#first few listens i was just marveling at the musicality of it

[radio-4-is-static]

KANATA HALUKA – RADWIMPS

[distantdarlings]

SHEER HEAT // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.1K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Gender-Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a month of Theo and his friends picking on you, you finally decide to stand up for yourself. It just doesn’t go exactly how you were planning.

+ WARNINGS - Gender-Neutral reader, Theo is picking on reader, language, kissing, kissing without permission, tension, not fully proofread (please lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Shameless - NAYM

- - -

The sky outside grew golden with the early morning sun. The rays of liquid gemstone shone across the windowsill, casting waves of reflection across the stone floor and your shoes. You tilted your foot back and forth and marveled at how the polished leather glistened.

There was a soft sweater across your shoulders and a small coffee cup in the corner of your desk with a sugar spoon, wandlessly swirling about the liquid.

Technically, beverages and food were not allowed in the classrooms, but Professor Flitwick was partial to you and didn’t mind if you sipped on a coffee or tea every once in a while.

Despite the early morning and your desire to be back in bed, you couldn’t help but feel the warm, content feeling spreading across your chest. You were grateful to be at Hogwarts, surrounded by your friends and—

“HELLO, TESORO!”

You jumped at the shrill shout coming from the door of the classroom. You and the other students glanced over to see a smirking Theodore Nott sprint across the room toward you.

You instinctively flinched at the sight and inched away from him just as he crashed his body full-force into your desk.

The wooden hull of it vibrated and sent your coffee mug flying through the air. You shrieked at the image and stood abruptly to avoid the brown liquid coating your lap.

Your breakfast coffee now frowned up at you from the ground with all of its shattered bits and splashed beverage.

You groaned and rolled your eyes.

“Theodore Nott, you’re such an asshole!” you shouted through gritted teeth. With a wave of your wand, the mug reformed itself perfectly, and the liquid swirled into a small bubble of liquid in the air before dissolving into bits of air.

“Ah, you don’t need that stuff anyway—it'll make you jittery and keep you up all night!” he chuckled to himself.

Just as he’d made the joke, his posse of equally annoying boys showed up behind him, laughing along with him.

“I think that’s for me to decide and not for you to send crashing to the floor!” you argued back.

“What if someone had done that to you?”

“Hmm,” he pretended to think. “Well, I suppose I’d give them what was coming to them…unless it was you, of course.” He quirked an eyebrow at you.

You sneered and rolled your eyes, realizing you’d never get anything through his thick skull.

“Whatever, Theo, just leave me alone,” you sighed and dropped back into your seat. He giggled irritatingly, headed to the back of the classroom, and selected a seat beside his friends.

You had no idea what you’d ever done to make him feel like he could harass you all the time, but you were getting to a point with his behavior. And if he kept it up, that point would be driven straight through his ugly face in the form of a fist.

At the sound of his continued giggling, you glanced back at him. Once you had, he caught your eyes and wiggled a few fingers at you.

You quickly turned back around and focused your head down on your newly-fixed mug. It was one of your favorites and—to be honest—had pissed you off entirely too much that Theo had broken it. It didn’t matter that it could be easily fixed; it mattered that he had broken it in the first place.

The rest of the class had passed relatively quickly, even though you could hear Theo and his friends’ little teasing giggles occasionally. You just did your best to ignore it.

By the time Professor Flitwick had announced that evening’s homework and dismissed the class, you were already out of your seat and halfway out the door.

You could still hear their little taunts all the way out the door and down the hallway. All you wanted to do was go back to the Great Hall, get yourself a refill of coffee and enjoy it in silence.

You had about a half-hour before you needed to be at your next class, and neither Theo nor his friends were there.

You rounded the corner to the Great Hall and slipped through the grand doors, allowing your mug to float from your hand and find its way to the nearest flagon of coffee.

If anything, coffee tended to be considered a Muggle drink around Hogwarts, but none could deny its excellent caffeine effect.

Wandlessly, you asked the mug to fill itself up to the brim and then watched as it did. You smiled a bit at the peacefulness of the Great Hall when no one else was in there.

You could hear the candles overhead and the fireplaces crackling softly, and the coffee trickling like a small stream. It gave you a sense of home, just like it always had.

When your mug was full, you took a seat at the empty Gryffindor table and settled your eyes on the flickering flames that reflected on the stone hearth.

“Hey, Tesoro.”

You jumped and turned toward the entrance. Theodore Nott was standing just there with a mischievous smile on his face.

You groaned audibly.

“Theo, I’m not in the mood. Haven’t I made that clear? I just want to enjoy my coffee while it’s not knocked into the floor.”

He laughed a bit.

“Aw, I’m sorry about that earlier,” he smiled. “It wasn’t my intention to knock it over.”

He crossed over to you and sat across the table from you. You refrained from tossing the coffee over him.

“Okay, so when I said I wanted to be alone—”

“I understood, and I’ll be here with you to support you through it.”

You frowned and stared at him. He wore a stupid smile branded across his face, obviously proud of himself for the dumb things he was saying.

“Alright, this was completely unpleasant, and I think I will enjoy my drink elsewhere.” You started to stand and head toward the exit, when Theo also stood and began to follow you.

“Theo! No! Leave me be!”

You increased your pace toward the doors, but he did the same. He matched your speed, ending up right beside you. His legs were significantly longer than yours, and he managed to keep up with you no matter how fast you were going.

You sighed and stopped right at the door, facing him.

“Where are we going?” he asked, with a shit-eating grin spread over his face.

“We are not going anywhere, dummy,” you said, rolling your eyes. “And I will stand right here until you get bored and leave.”

“I guess we’ll be here for a while, then.” He shrugged and shifted his weight against the wall, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked. You crossed your arms and took a small sip from your cup.

“Anything, Tesoro.”

“Don’t call me that, please,” you said. “Why me? What about me has struck your little group’s fancy the last few weeks? You never acknowledged me before, but suddenly, you’re interested in making my day a living nightmare.”

“It’s not that; maybe we just like picking on you…”

“How does that make it sound any better?” you asked.

“I think we both know that half of the Hogwarts student body would love to be picked on by me,” he shrugged.

His confidence was a thing of admiration—you had to give him that. He seemed to know exactly what to say to keep everybody on his side at all times. Perhaps it was the charm or the family or something else, but everyone seemed to love Theodore Nott, no matter how incredibly irritating he could be.

It didn’t matter if he and his friends were picking on you for the last couple of weeks. It didn’t matter how many times you’d asked them to stop. It didn’t matter what they did to other people because they were young, attractive, white guys. You’d just happened to, unfortunately, fall onto their radar.

“You’re a cocky motherfucker, aren’t you?” you asked, rolling your eyes.

“Always, baby,” he said, smiling widely. “Looks like you’ll be late for class if we keep hanging around here.”

“How do you know if I’m going to be late for class? I’m perfectly comfortable sitting here for as long as I have to if it gets you to leave me the hell alone.”

Obviously, that wasn’t entirely true, as your second period started in a few minutes, and you needed to be there. But, at this point, your pride and your distaste for the boy before you had you staying in place.

“Hope you like chicken.”

“Excuse me?”

“One of the elves in the kitchens told me that we were having chicken for dinner. I was saying that I hoped you liked chicken because we’ll be standing here until dinner is served.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Not really. I don’t think you understand how willing I am to stick around until you let me follow you.”

“You’re not following me, Theo.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t fucking like you,” you scoffed, in disbelief that he couldn’t possibly understand why you didn’t want to be around him.

“Ouch, that hurt,” he mock-frowned, pretending to wipe a tear away from his cheek. “Also, how do you know you don’t like me? We’ve never hung out.”

“Exactly! We’ve never hung out, and for some reason, you think it’s okay to harass me everyday!”

Your voice had begun to raise slightly with every stupid expression he flashed your way. He was trying to get on your nerves.

“But, maybe that’s my way of getting your attention,” he suggested. You were fuming.

“Getting my—? What the hell are you talking about?”

He parted his lips to answer, but the anger flashing through your body didn’t want to hear any explanation of his.

“Wait! Don’t answer that. I don’t fucking care.”

“I think you’ll be interested in the answer.”

“I highly doubt it.”

You pressed your hand to your forehead and took a deep breath, trying to repress the rage filling in your chest. You didn't care for any explanation he could have for you—all you had ever wanted to do was keep to yourself and enjoy your time at the most incredible school on earth.

But, for some reason, you had not been granted that for nearly a month.

What was worse was you genuinely didn’t understand why you were the target, and he’d yet to answer that, other than with whatever game he was currently playing.

You hadn’t gotten to enjoy your coffee, you were missing class, and—wait a minute. You looked back up at him. Why the hell were you even still here? You could just leave.

Theo’s eyebrows furrowed, and his head cocked slightly at the expression printed on your face.

It seemed he was trying to understand what realization had passed across your mind.

Your fingers tightened around your mug, and with your free hand, you quickly covered the top and—with a held breath—Disapparated.

There were swishing sounds all around you as if you were being pushed through a vacuum of sorts. You could feel your hair tickling against your forehead, and the coffee in your mug swishing against your makeshift hand lid, and something gripped tightly around your ankle.

The force of the process kept your head pinned upward so you could not see what was hanging around you. You just hoped it wasn’t Theo. If he had the audacity to come with you while you were trying to get away as quickly as possible, he had another thing coming. He needed to learn some boundaries.

You stopped suddenly. The whooshing and the coffee against your hand were still again.

You stood on the balcony of the astronomy tower. There were no classes during the day, and the professor rarely stayed in the tower past class hours.

You’d come to learn this the hard way when you had initially been practicing Disapparation.

You had been trying to pop up lakeside along the Black Lake and had ended up dangling on the wrong side of the guardrail.

It had been an unfortunate experience, but it had allowed you to find a space where you could enjoy studying or peace and quiet while having the gorgeous view of the campus spread out before you.

This time around, however, the view of the campus was not your focus. You turned and saw Theo standing just behind you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you shrieked, stomping over to him and pressing a rough shove to his chest. He stumbled backward slightly before catching himself against one of the student tables.

“I said I wanted to be alone! I’m tired of being followed and picked on. You’re pathetic and so selfish! I just want you to leave me alone, and if you don’t after this fucking warning, I’ll go to the Headmaster!”

He didn’t say anything; he just watched your heated vent.

“I swear to Merlin, Theodore Nott, if you bother me again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

He smirked ever so slightly. Just a tiny quirk of his lip in the upper left corner. That was it.

You screamed in frustration. “What the fuck do you want? What do I have to do to get it through your thick fucking skull? I want you to leave me alone! Do I need to hit you? Because I fucking will! Do I need to punch you, throw a drink on you, fucking kiss you? I mean, what is it that I need to do?”

Your cheeks were fiery and flushed, and you felt that you were close to tears, but still, Theo stood still, just watching and listening.

“Fuck—” Without thinking, you grabbed either side of his face and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. It lasted only a second before you pulled away, in utter disbelief with yourself.

Theo’s eyes widened, and his breaths came out in heavy pants. You knew you probably looked the same.

“Uh, I-I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I don’t know why I did that.”

There were a few moments of silence where the two of you seemed to be just glancing between the floor and each other. In reality, it was only a second or two, but in your head, it felt like hours.

Those seconds only filled the space between you for a breeze before Theo walked back over to you and mimicked your actions from earlier.

You grunted on impact at the sheer force he’d planted his lips on yours. Panicked, you shoved him away from you.

You figured you now looked precisely as he had when you’d kissed him. A second passed.

Then you were both reaching for each other, grasping at any and everything, and exchanging tastes between the others’ lips.

Your hands curled roughly into his hair, and his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back, pulling you as close as you would go.

His lips were soft but demanding, claiming exactly what he wanted and trying to force yours down into submission, but you refused. The sheer heat of your anger that had very quickly shapeshifted into lust seemed to push some adrenaline-filled strength into your body.

There was no way this jerk would force you to do anything.

You walked into him, forcing him back against the student table, where he sat against the edge of it. He pulled you in between his legs with a force like no other, never separating his lips from yours.

In response to your shove, he bit down on your bottom lip hard.

“Fuck, you’re such a dick,” you murmured in between kisses. You could taste a hint of blood spilling between your lips from his bite.

“I know,” he whispered against you.

You sucked in a breath and pulled away from him, stepping back just a bit.

“I don’t understand what’s happening…,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath.

“Me neither, really,” he shrugged. “I was teasing you because I wanted you.”

You stared up at him with widened eyes. “You mean like—?”

“What else could I possibly mean?” he deadpanned.

“Shut up. I was just trying to make sure. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Me neither. I’m usually pretty straightforward when I ask for what I want.”

“So, why was I any different?” you asked.

“I don’t know. It wasn’t as easy to talk directly to you.”

“But it was easy to pick on me?”

He shrugged and looked down to the floor. It seemed like he was a bit disappointed in himself, even after you’d been begging for him to stop for so long. Now that he was quiet and seemingly upset, you almost missed his mean quips and charming confidence.

“I’m sorry I made you upset. I wasn’t trying to,” he said. “I was trying to make you like me back. I don’t usually ‘flirt.’”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you snorted. “I just wish you would have talked to me. I’ve always had a bit of a crush on you—I couldn’t understand why you were suddenly being mean to me.”

“You had a crush on me?” he asked, eyebrows quirking up.

“Of course I did. You’re Theo Nott—everyone has a crush on you.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

He smirked just a bit, pride spreading across his face.

“Don’t take it so personally—it was just a little crush,” you laughed.

“No offense, but there’s no way I’m not taking this personally. I’ve wanted you since I first noticed you.”

You looked back up at him. His eyes were focused right on you, though they had switched from a kind of understanding to a flame of desire and ownership. You felt almost claimed.

Merlin, it was easy to see why so many people were so eager to be with him. The way he looked at you felt as if you were being devoured alive.

You swallowed thickly.

“I—”

“Do you want to go to my room?” he interrupted.

Well, shit. Wasn’t the whole point of the original conversation to get yourself as far away from him as possible? You’d already failed on that front, considering you’d just been sucking faces with him, but maybe you could drop this right now? You didn’t have to keep this up. He would probably play you until he was bored, just like everyone else. Fuck.

You bit your lip decidedly and nodded, accepting his outstretched hand.

- - -

Tag List: @lilymurphy03 , @mypolicemanharryyy , @clairesjointshurt , @bunbunbl0gs , @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303 , @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw , @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33 , @xxrougefangxx , @thatblackthorn, @robinyx , @starsval , @jolly4holly , @blvebanisters , @chgrch, @abaker74 , @ilovehotmenandwoman , @kissesbyarabella, @synicaljah

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[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hazbin Hotel Men - Take care of you

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, no use of Y/n, fem reader

Characters : Alastor , Angel Dust, Husk , Sir Pentious, Vox , Valentino

Info : So it is here my first work for the hazbin hotel fandom and I'm very excited. I'm in it again after watching years ago the pilot, the first few episodes of hb and the great/amazing music video adict. So have fun everyone and enjoy it ;)

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

Alastor : A smile always graces his lips and even if you're not used to it, he's quite disturbed when his loved one doesn't smile too. They've been through a lot together, but when he walks through the corridors of the hotel from his broadcasting studio and finds his darling sad, even crying, the static goes out of his voice for a moment. He will always worry about his darling, the only one in his dark, twisted heart. ,,Darling, what's wrong...who should I make scream?" he asked, his claw-like fingers resting on your hands, the strange charged static running through you strange yet familiar. Almost judging and somehow tickling. He would listen quietly to what was on his darling's mind and let a soft song play over his wand, the song that had played when he got the letter. Your letter of admiration in such a cruel place as hell the radio demon had marveled at. ,,Or I'll just stay with you mhhh a little show?" he asked, gently wiping the tears from your cheek with his fingers before pulling his sweet tone from the bed and flicking the room into a reddish dance hall. The radio waves turned to a song and he gently guided his darling around the room, brushing away her tears with each turn, reminding her of the things they had together. The time they had together, the things they had done for each other. His special affection, his gratitude and his love that belonged only to her. ,,You know I'm always with you darling, no matter what," he reminded his heart before leaving a gentle kiss on the back of her hand as the music faded.

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

Angel Dust : Angel Dust knew best what it meant when it came to money. He had lived it hell he was in that vicious circle and knew what it was like to be exploited for money almost every night. But in all this fire and poison he had found his own drug, so to speak. The one that had helped him when he was down, when he needed a break, when he couldn't sleep after night after night. She had sacrificed herself, Val had practically thrown herself at the throat, had taken it upon herself to become the number two in the business, something "enough" as Valentino called it. But Angel knew better than anyone that something like this didn't just pass you by. Which is why, with a warm tea in his hands, the spider heard the quiet knock on the door before he heard the ,,Come in." He didn't have to look to know that the runny makeup was from tears and other things. ,,Hey princess, come here," he murmured, putting the tea on the side table before slowly putting his hands around her. Never firm enough that she couldn't resist, always calm enough to show her that he didn't want what the others in the store wanted. The words flowed slowly over her lips and even though they both knew there was no point in talking about it, it felt good. It eased the pain and Angel was able to wipe away her tears before he gave her the tea. Because if there was one thing he had learned, it was that a cup of tea could work wonders in a few minutes and make you feel warm and safe. ,,I promise this will all end soon," he murmured, letting his beauty lay her head on his chest and he smiled gently as he saw the trembling of her body lessen with his calm heartbeat. At least they would both have something like hope for a while...a moment of calm and peace in the vicious circle.

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

Husk : The clinking of glasses was something that could always be heard at the bar, either when the former overlord was sorting, washing or serving the glasses. The bottles made about the same sound but darker. But something still filled his bar: sniffling and sobbing. The sadness of his favorite, lucky clover, sitting at the bar with his head buried in his hands. He had just blown away to take another order because everyone else was already off to Satan's place. The beating of his wings could be heard as he hurriedly came over to her. He didn't need to look at the sad face, ,,I know you've given everything we all know that" he said and reached for the right drink he knew her favorite order was the one she had brought him back when he was lucky. He handed her the drink and slowly and gently took her hands from her face before she took the drink with a slight look of gratitude. He nodded in acknowledgment as he saw them both just sitting there for a moment, he slowly wrapped his sweat around her waist and pulled her a little closer, placing a wing on her shoulder. Knew the feathers were something she wanted. Because he was right, she let her fingers wander over the pattern. She finally gave in and told him about her yet another failed attempt to get money and power for the hotel, maybe even a few free ones, but nothing had worked. Instead, only the usual cursing and swearing...as the cave was true. Without happiness and kindness. ,,But our happiness and togetherness will last forever," he said and handed her one of his golden dice before the two of them rolled it over the wood of the ceiling. But in fact, when Husk pressed a gentle kiss on her cheek, both dice landed as doubles. They knew that together they had the best luck they could have as a couple.

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

Sir Pentiuos : The airship's engine was loud, but the serpent demon was able to distinguish between the sound of an engine, the cracking of eggs and the sobs of its first officers. Turning away from the steering wheel, hoping that a cherry-scented bomb would not be thrown through the windshield, he made his way into the interior of his airship. ,,My beauty? Are you in here?" he asked as he looked into the individual rooms of the ship before he heard her from the craft room, where she was mostly developing her weapons. Weapons that had often led them both to victory, but this time it didn't work out. it was the third time in the last week that they had been caught by the bombs. He saw her sitting on one of the tables with another broken weapon in her hands, a mistake she took to heart. ,,Ohh darling please don't I'm here come here" he whispered and his forked snake tongue wetted her cheek lightly as he pulled her into an embrace. The kiss on her cheek made her smile as she saw that the serpentine demon was a little pink in the cheeks himself. His cuteness that he mostly didn't know about always cheered her up, he would always manage somehow. His snake tail curled around her body and his slightly scaly skin felt warm when she put her fingers on it. He knew his scales soothed her and his words dug into her like the bite of a snake. He slowly put her weapon aside and cuddled her again, encouraging her. ,,Shall I fetch the eggs? A big party, my dear, maybe a party," he suggested with a smile and shortly afterwards he lifted her into his arms before the two of them went to the little ones. The family sat down together and soon instead of crying, laughter and joy could be heard as Sir Pentious stood by their side.

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

Vox : Voices can get loud, programs can get loud and with the three Vees it can get very very loud. If not the models, then Val's employees or hookers suffer from this. But this stress for new eriesn, new porn shoots and new clothes became too much for every demon. And when Vox went back to his office/broadcasting station he had, as always, an overishct on everything. A look at everything and everyone, but a look at the one screen he always had closest to him. Just a second later, he showed up in her room using his skills to make the viewers go haywire. They were always surrounded by noise, so he knew how good it was to have silence. ,,Hey button we'll take care of the ratings later...what do you need mhh?" he asked taking her cell phone from the one she was using to monitor the other ratings. He used his hands to pull her towards him, moving her slightly around the room, not necessarily dancing but playfully looking for that spark. ,,Come on, tell dear Vox what it is? Something special you want me to take care of?" he offered a small spark on her body, seeing that she smiled briefly knowing she liked it, that little shock that made her heart beat faster, drove her nerves and dispelled her fear. ,,You know no one can do anything to the four of us, we're different...and hot," he reminded her, laughing with her as his mood brought her back to her proper self. She felt the loaded kiss on her lips briefly but like catching up on a television. Before they moved across the room they shared a drink and she rested her head against his shoulder as they looked across the cave knowing that if they all stayed together she would stay with Vox he would never leave her and everything would work out in the end.

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

Valentino : Obscene noises, neon pink signs, and a reclamation board and TV that gave a taste of the videos and movies that would come out if you went to the brothel in the compartment that belonged to Valentino. In this particular business, one thing mattered above all else. Stamina. Stamina if it was going to be a long night with twenty guys, stamina to film it all, stamina to count the money at the end and stamina when you were in hangover. It was exhausting for the employees and for Val, but especially for the assistant. The brothel mother, designer, scriptwriter and partner of the moth demon. It all just became too much at some point, which is why it took the Overlord a moment to realize that crying wasn't what he knew. In a flash of his smoke and the flutter of his wings, he made his way to their shared room. ,,My sweet kitty, what's wrong? No inspiration shall I fetch Angel or our favorite maybe Vox?" he suggested with a grin and took a puff on his cigrette as he approached the bed. Sha, however, that this only made him more depressed and his grin diminished as he extinguished the cigarette in the smoke and came to her, his wings blocking out the bright pink light from everywhere and the two of them a little darkened. Quiet and just the two of them. ,,Too much...I know it's a bit too stimulating sometimes," he mumbled, trying to find the right words, still not the best at taking care of others in his egocentric worldview of sex and money. But for her he would give anything and he could feel how it bothered him not to see her smiling, not shining with inspiration. He held out his hand to her for permission as she slowly cuddled up to him. ,,Here just the two of us just here and no one else just us" he whispered quietly trying not to hold her too tightly but not too loosely as the wings wrapped around them both like a blanket. As they both listened to each other's heartbeats, the sweet smell of Valentino was familiar but reassuringly true. It was just that hold they b oth needed in a place where they knew there was no going back.

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

[shycoconutt]

Fantasy Girl (Choso Kamo x Reader)

MDNI (18+)

Choso Kamo was obsessed with you the moment he laid eyes on you. His heart began to pound in his ears, his face flushed a bright cherry red, and he felt a burning arousal in the pit of his stomach. 

You weren't just beautiful, no, you were picture-perfect. When he locked eyes on your figure, the way your body swayed when you walked by, your choice of dress, your smooth skin, the contour of your face, the way your hair flowed in the wind, he was instantly transported back to his boyhood.

The nights he would spend alone, listening to music and sketching his ideal lover with pen and paper. He would meticulously pick out all of his favorite aspects of a woman and use his imagination to conjure images of her in different positions. Some were sweet and innocent, but most were highly provocative in nature. Pleased with himself, he would save his drawings in his sketchbook, and still, to this day, pulls them out every once in a while when he wants to get off to something as pure as his deepest, most sincere fantasy.

But, here you are, his woman, his girl, in the flesh. He has the primal urge to kiss the ground you walk on, to worship you like a goddess, to give you whatever you desire and more, oh so much more.

So when he finally gets you into bed, laid out all pretty for him, he can’t resist his desire to touch himself and cum just from looking at you. He owes himself this moment, to drink in your mere existence. Standing at the foot of his bed, he strips in front of you and takes note of the way your eyes trail up and down his body with a lick of your lips.

Wanting to put on a show for you, he brings one hand down to squeeze his pink tip, slowly spreading his pre over the sensitive skin, while his other hand comes up to squeeze his pecks.

“What do you think, pretty girl? Is my body good enough for you? Is it up to your standards?” Choso huffs out, bringing the hand on his cock down to stroke his whole length.

You nod, taking your plush bottom lip in between your teeth. Choso watches as your hands come down to the bottom hem of your shirt, planning to strip for him as well. But that’s not what he wants, not yet at least.

“No, baby, leave everything on,” Choso says between moans, “I want to look at you just as you are.” In this moment, he believes he hasn’t earned you yet, not all of you.

The subtle flash of confusion in your eyes makes him chuckle. You are so sweet, so beautiful, so amazing. Involuntarily, Choso pumps his cock with more ferocity, his ab muscles flexing in response. He is close, and he must act before it’s too late.

“Do me a favor, my love,” Choso nods towards his bedside table, “Open the drawer, take out the sketchbook, and flip through some pages for me.”

He sees your hesitation, but you ultimately comply with his wishes. He watches as your body contorts to reach over to the side of the bed, using the moment to marvel at the curve of your ass. His hand squeezes tighter, imagining what you’d look like bent over in front of him.

Snapping back to reality, he sees the green sketchbook placed on your lap, your fingers about to turn to open a page. “Good girl,” he muses.

Choso makes sure to study your face while you examine the first few pictures, not wanting to miss any emotion that crosses your expression. He feels his hands tingle in anticipation. Do you see it? Do you understand? 

He feels like all his prayers have been answered as a small gasp escapes your lips, your eyes widening in surprise.

“Choso…” you begin.

“Yes, baby? Tell me,” Choso is now curling into himself, not letting up on how he pumps his cock, now hot with desperation to release. His long, black hair falls onto his face, which he quickly brushes away with his other hand to keep eye contact with you.

“This is-,” you stutter, “is this me?” 

“Yes,” Choso grunts, “yes, sweet girl, it’s you.” 

“But we-” 

“But we just met?” he finishes for you, “Yes, I know baby. I drew these before you. When I was younger, I would imagine my fantasy girl. The girl I want to give my heart to, give everything to.”

The way your eyes gloss over with emotion, soaking in his words, makes Choso crumble. He notices how you subtly clench your thighs together, rubbing them for friction. You were reacting positively. Good.

“I didn’t know it then, but I wasn’t imagining you, I was envisioning you.” This is it, he is spent, about to release his seed out into his hands. Baring it all for you, like an offering.

What he doesn't anticipate is how you swiftly place the drawings next to you, sitting up on the bed to crawl towards the man. Choso sees a familiar glint in your eye, one of determination and lust. He’s taken aback.

“What are you-”

“I know you want to take your time with me, take things slow, but,” Choso’s grip around his length is carefully peeled off by your small fingers, only to be placed in your hair, “I don’t believe you envisioned just releasing in your hand or on the floor. Tsk, we wouldn’t want to waste it, right baby?”

Choso’s staggered breath catches in his throat as your hands come up to explore his abdomen, slowly grazing each muscle in his defined abs. After making your way down, each hand curls around his shaft, and Choso can’t help the drawn-out moan he gives when you give him a light squeeze. 

With half-lidded eyes, he watches as your glossy lips come to kiss him at his tip, sticking out your tongue to lightly lick the pre cum oozing out of his slit. He can’t help but revel in every small movement, body threatening to snap.

“Oh, gods, I can’t-” he gasps, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Only if you promise your dedication to me,” you smirk, looking up at him devilishly, “From here on out, your cum belongs to me. You understand?”

“Yes! Yes, I promise, oh gods, I’m only yours. All of my cum is yours. Now plea-”

In one quick movement, you took Choso’s full length down your throat, releasing your jaw and bobbing aggressively. Your hands leave his cock to grip both sides of his waist, using all your strength to fuck his body into you.

“Nnnn-aaaaaah,” he can’t hold it back any longer, gripping the back of your head, Choso brings you fully flush to his body as he dumps his seed down your throat. His cock pulses with every thick rope that spurts out of him.

After a pause and feeling your throat tighten, he brings your face off of him, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and a string of your spit connect your mouth to his tip. Still, in your exasperated state, you manage to give him the warmest smile he’s ever seen, nose scrunched and eyes closed tightly. Like a magnet, Choso’s hands come up to cradle your face.

No one, absolutely no one, has ever looked this beautiful. He's sure of it.

[neiptune]

i'm gonna kiss you like the sun cw: 3k wc, female reader, suggestive if you squint, barely proofread, this is sooo self indulgent and warm and fluffy and i just love him to the moon and back like trigger warning he's perfect

Brazil really is everything Shoyo said it would be.

He wasn’t sure about bringing you to Rio at first, insisted that São Paulo alone would’ve been more comfortable, but you really wanted to explore the city that welcomed him for two whole years so long ago. You’re so glad he decided to accomodate the request: witnessing the stars in his eyes as you wandered around the city, feeling the emotion laced into his tone as he described special spots and introduced you to old friends in confident portuguese, getting to observe how perfectly tangerine curls caught the soft light of sunsets on flawless beaches… made it all worth it.

São Paulo was nice too: ever the cosmopolitan metropolis, it reminded you of Tokyo albeit in a completely original way. Shoyo was given a nice, comfortable apartiment in Chácara Flora but you spent little to no time in there, too busy exploring Ibirapuera park, different museums, climbing all the way up the Farol Santander building and enjoying oh so much good food. However, as much as you loved the city and its locals, Rio is different.

The sky is so big it hurts to look at, an impossible shade of blue makes one feel as if each morning nature paints it the most marvelous nuance just to make sure you’d spend a little extra time with your head tilted back. Colorful streets are filled with music at all times, bubbly enough to persuade complete strangers to attempt a few improvised steps on the way home or right outside a bar, on nights when the mere fact of being alive makes the world feel just a tad bit more magical. Your taste buds have been blessed with the most delicious servings of feijoada, churrasco, coxinha and pão de queijo, one of Hinata’s personal favorites.

The amount of love Shoyo has for Rio makes more sense now that you get to experience his deep connection with the city firsthand. No wonder he calls it his second home: the first real gift he bought for himself was a luxurious penthouse in Ipanema, complete with terrace, a gorgeous view on the beach and a private pool. He never misses the chance to fly his family or friends for a vacation, certainly happy to have a well-situated life in both São Paulo and Tokyo but equally joyous at the prospect of making additional special memories in the city that is still so dear to him.

It’s the first time you accepted to visit, always more inclined to simply wait for him to return to either Tokyo or the Miyagi prefecture. Flying is not exactly your favorite activity and 20+ hours of planes have always been a pretty convincing deterrent. Turns out, missing your boyfriend too much is an equally strong incentive.

And so you’re here, on one of the most beautiful beaches on the other side of the world, sitting on a  comfortable towel and still a bit jet lagged as you excitedly recount the latest gossip about one of your colleagues, secretly planning to propose to her girlfriend soon. Except it feels like you’re the only one hearing the story.

“Shoyo”, you pout, “are you listening?”.

“No”, he says right away, blunt in his honesty as always, gaze fixed on something distant above your shoulder, brows furrowed in worry “sorry, I’ll be right back” and just like that, he gets up from the towel you’re sharing to walk off toward a destination you can only pinpoint when you turn your head around.

There’s a beach volleyball court, because of course there is, and a group of boys seems to be having a good time playing. For some reason the teams are not balanced, it’s two against three, but they’re all laughing and having fun. All except one, a kid sitting on the sand not too far away from those you can only guess are his friends, scowl deep and brows furrowed. While the others look like teenagers, he seems way younger with those lanky arms and thin legs. From the way he’s begrudgingly observing the game, it wouldn’t be unfair to assume that he wasn’t allowed to play.

Shoyo approaches him with the wave of a hand and a friendly inflection in his portuguese. It doesn’t take long for the kid to replace a deeply wary expression with a more relaxed one. He nods at some point and your boyfriend sits next to him on the sand, at reasonable distance to make sure the kid is comfortable being so close to a stranger, baseball cap pushed further down as he observes the game. Your best guess is that he asked the boy if it was okay for him to watch the match with him, probably introduced himself simply as someone who’s passionate about the sport.

You observe as Shoyo’s lips move but his eyes stay focused on the court, comments and possibly suggestions mumbled to himself, a few claps and cheers for good measure. It’s the boy that wants to talk to him now, he’s probably asking a few questions and Hinata can finally accomplish what was probably his mission all along. They chat for a bit, then the kid shrugs and angrily shakes his head, utters something under his breath and you can see the disapproval in the downwards curve of your boyfriend’s mouth. He’s up again after a while, as he walks off the boy yells something you don’t understand after him. When Hinata is back shortly after, there’s a ball in his hands and a wide grin on his face.

It takes some convincing and putting a good amount of distance between them and the group, but eventually Shoyo is able to convince him to play. When the kid gets up from the sand, you can’t help but smile: he’s not nearly as tall as his friends.

It starts with some easy setting drills, then forearm bumps. You’re lying on your tummy now, book in hand but still a few glances curiously directed to where they’re enjoying themselves. You can hear Shoyo’s laugh and see his companion’s now relaxed features, smile beaming as he digs to try and catch your boyfriend’s spikes. He most certainly willingly misses a few of the boy’s ones, dramatically throws himself on the powdery sand now sticking to their chests and backs. Yet, they’re having a good time. While probably risking a sunstroke but still, they’re enjoying themselves.

And so you relax, focus on your designated beach read, content to finally have some time to digest a few additional pages. The main character decides to spend the summer on a remote island in the middle of the pacific ocean, meets a group of friends and begins a dreamy intimate friendship with one attractive, local surf instructor.

You’re devouring the chapter following their one night stand when the shadow of someone crouching down in front of your towel makes your gaze flicker up.

“Hey beautiful”, Shoyo grins, all flushed cheeks and glistening shoulders, “wanna go for a swim with me?”.

He doesn’t apologize for having left so abruptly and, as you push back some of the hair sticking to his forehead, it’s a relief to find yourself not as bruised as you'd feel at the beginning of your relationship. Shoyo has taught you that not every gesture or word carries actual malice: he has his own way of looking at the world and will leave in the middle of a conversation if he witnesses a kid being unfairly tossed aside. It’s what makes him, him. And you love him so much.

“That was very kind of you”, he downplays your compliment instantly, with a shake of the head. Shoyo doesn’t always apologize but he never fails to explain.

“It was nothing, we just played a little. Then one of his friends recognized me and asked for an autograph, so I think Marcelo finally felt more confident. He’s really talented, you know? I told him about all the people who never wanted to play with me either and that he should never allow anyone to tell him that he’s not good enough to do what he loves”, he smiles and then softly grasps the hand still gently running through his locks to press it to his lips.

“Should’ve told him about the little giant”, you grin.

“I did! But he didn’t seem too interested in gringos, was wary of me too when I approached him”.

“Well, I’m pretty sure this particular gringo has made his day”.

Shoyo’s chuckle is soft and you press a kiss to the portion of his knee that is not covered in sand before closing your book with a loud thud and shoving it back into your bag.

“Was I gone for long? Did you get bored?”, he offers a hand to help you stand up and you bask in the comfort of his sincere worry. He may get distracted easily but you’re never not among his priorities.

“Didn’t get bored. Did miss you”.

“Oh no”, a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes, “whatever we should do about that”.

A yelp is heard when he pulls you into him and picks you up in one fluid motion, laugh like a melody when you grumble some nonsense about how sweaty he is and the amount of sand that is now sticking to your body as well.

“See? Now we both need a good rinse” Shoyo kisses your pout away and smiles against the comforting curve of your lips when he feels your legs wrap around his waist.

“Can’t stand you” the good natured affront only makes him chuckle harder as he carries you toward the shore, precious cargo clinging onto him like a koala bear.

“Ah, you were standing for me alright this morning against the wall”.

You furrow your brows as you meet his playful gaze. “I think you’re spending too much time with the wrong Miya twin”.

Tongue in cheek, Shoyo shrugs nonchalantly and tightens his arms around you when you shudder as the water hugs his waist and your ankles. He doesn’t let go and is glad you don’t seem inclined to pull away either, satisfied with being held as you gently wash the sand from his chest and shoulders once your boyfriend settles where the atlantic is deeper but still shallow enough for him to stand.

Shoyo never thought he could’ve loved Rio more than he already does but having you there is an entirely new kind of magic he didn’t believe he’d ever experience. If he didn’t think he’d scare you off and if the rational part of his brain didn’t acknowledge that it would be horribly unfair, it wouldn’t take but a second to ask you to move there with him. For him.

His life is perfect but never complete so long you’re not there to share it. He wants you always, will need you forever, and for a fleeting moment his stomach squeezes when the feeble vision of a white dress flashes before his eyes.

“I love you”, he utters softly, “I love that you’re here”. So much.

He thinks of the sunflowers sitting all pretty in a vase right below his kitchen window, an apartment instantly made all the more special. He receives flowers from fans and his family but you’re the only person who regularly gets them for him. Not because it’s his birthday, not to celebrate or as consolation. The first time you went out for dinner he had some red roses and you showed up with an identical bouquet. Then grinned: I just thought you’d like them. He did.

Shoyo knows you like the back of his hand, so there’s no chance he’d miss the slight hesitation in your smile as you murmur that you love him back.

“Something wrong?”,  he searches your features for any hint of discomfort. You huff, offer some sarcasm to cover up your worries.

“Sometimes I’m not entirely sure it’s good to have such a perceptive boyfriend”.

Alarm bells ring into his head, albeit the sound is distant. If something serious was on your mind, surely you would’ve told him.

“Wanna talk about it?” he doesn’t necessarily want to make this about himself but also desperately wants to ask if it’s him who did something to upset you.

“It’s stupid”.

“It’s never stupid if it troubles you”.

It takes a deep breath and the gentle roll of the waves to gather the right words, one of his hands calmingly rubbing soft circles on your back.

“I just… sometimes I guess I find it hard to believe that you miss me”.

Shoyo’s face falls, hand halts its movements.

“What?”.

“This is entirely on me!”, you hope the quick clarification is enough to alleviate the torment written all over his features, “it’s not something I’m blaming you for! You don’t do anything wrong, ever”.

It doesn’t work. The shock melts into genuine heartache.

“Why would you think that?”, his voice comes out thin and low, a broken whisper. Fuck.

“Because I go through illogical moments and feelings. It’s not you who makes me feel like that, it’s just my brain”.

“Where does your brain get that assumption from?”.

You sigh, loosen the hold around his neck. It’s really hard to put your insecurities into words, especially to the one person who never gave you a single reason to doubt about his affection. It makes you feel like an asshole.

Even during such a disheartening moment, Shoyo thinks of you first. He has no trouble sustaining your weight and keeping you pressed against him with one arm alone, as his other hand gently cups your face to tilt it upwards.

“It’s because I’m happy here”. Not a question. He really does know you better than anyone else.

“You are. And I love that you are. I’m just being a jerk”.

Truth is, you miss him so much it feels unbearable at times. You’d go through such horrible days, hours long crying sessions, only to then open up your instagram and find posts and stories of him laughing, smiling, always having the time of his life. You’d never want him to feel miserable, he deserves everything he has and more. But you’d lie if you said it didn’t occasionally sting. You’d lie if you said you never felt like he didn’t need you after all.

Shoyo hums as he resumes his soft rubbing, thumb gently skimming over the skin under your eye.

“I am happy. I love living in this country and the people in it. I love my job. I’m lucky, my life is perfect”.

“I know. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”, his thumb is now pressing onto your lips as a tiny smile stretches his.

“And yet. It’s only complete if you’re with me. Did your brain know that?” he tilts his head to the side “I always miss you. When I’m playing, when I’m not playing, if I’m out with the team, while having breakfast, as I go to sleep. If you’re not where I am, I miss you. I’m happy but I’m not whole. Tell that to your brain for me, yeah?”.

He chuckles when you just look at him, stunned.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper once more.

“Ah, man!”, Shoyo’s laugh is jovial, “I wish I could buy this beach. I wish it was just ours, no people around. Then I could show you just how much I missed you”.

“Shoyo!”, you click your tongue in disapproval.

His gaze softens, genuine affection oozing from a stare so sincere it makes your heart flutter. “I’d buy you this beach if I could. All the beaches. Hell, the entire country. You know that, right? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d buy you the planet, the entire world, then break the news to everyone else. Too bad, guys, you have to leave! It’s ours now”.

“You’re so silly”, despite the smile, there’s a tiny quiver to your voice and you hope to fuck you don’t burst out crying in the middle of the atlantic ocean just because your boyfriend is in love with you. He means it, you know he does. If someone told him there was a way to buy the planet for you, he’d actually do it. Hinata says what’s on his mind at all times, never been one to lie or exaggerate: he’s just like that, hand-on-heart honest.

“Yeah. And I love you. Please don’t forget that or I’m gonna have to purchase the earth”, his grin is infectious and you can’t help but mirror it as you run a hand through his hair, dampening the shorter bangs into a darker burnt sienna.

“Don’t need it. I have you, you’re already my world”, the second the words fall from your lips you gag so loudly a few tourists turn to look, Shoyo’s mirthful laughter filling your ears and heart. “God, I was never this corny. Look what you turned me into, I think I’m gonna be sick”, your grimace is adorable to him and, judging by the pinkish hue emerging on tanned skin and among freckles, he’s not exactly opposed to sappiness.

“I think you should kiss me”, Shoyo mumbles, but it’s a formality really, because his hand leaves your face cold as he pulls you into a breathless kiss by the back of your head. It’s not entirely appropriate to kiss like that with people around but he chases you whenever you try to pull back, determination burning fiercely as he keeps you pressed against his body.

It feels more than perfect. It feels whole. It feels like everything he’ll ever need.

[mothfables]

♡ Bunny Flops ♡ - Part Two

(Legend has like 0.5 seconds of angst cause ✨trauma✨, but then it’s just fluff <3)

The second time it happens, the Chain is taking a much-needed break at Lon Lon Ranch. Several weeks have gone by since the first Incident (as they’ve taken to calling it when Legend isn’t around to hear), and it’s mostly passed from everyone’s minds by now.

Legend refused to answer any of their questions, growing embarrassed and awkward any time someone brought it up. Eventually they gave up and let him be, to his relief. He doesn’t want any of them knowing it’s a holdover from his Dark World form - or that he suspects that isn’t the only reason for his more...rabbit-like tendencies. Luckily (or, perhaps, unluckily in this case), those tendencies really only show themselves when he feels truly comfortable and safe, with a few exceptions.

(He doesn’t want to think about what it means that it’s happened around the other heroes. Thinking about it means acknowledging it, and acknowledging it means he has to face the fact that he’s let himself get close. Close to people who will just get taken away go away again.)

(He can’t go through that again. He can’t.)

As it is, Legend is curled up on the rug in front of the fire in the main house, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug and a fluffy blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Quiet chatter mixed with soft music flows around him. Chores are done for the day, none of his weapons are in need of maintenance, his belly is full, and he’s warm and cozy in a house that makes him feel as safe as he’s ever been.

Legend feels himself start to drift, his mind growing hazy and soft. Each blink is longer than the last, and he fumbles to keep from spilling his drink as he begins to drift off. Someone takes it from him, their hands gently easing it from his own, before patting him on the head. Half-asleep, he barely registers giving a soft chirring purr in response to the affection, hearing the other chuckle warmly as they continue petting his hair.

Sky smiles down at him as the younger hero begins to doze. He pauses for a moment to twist around, searching for the coffee table so he can put down the mug he’d taken from sleepy hands. Once that’s done, he turns back around to continue his ministrations, only to blink as he realizes the other boy is not where he’d left him.

He glances around, confused, before looking down and seeing Legend curled up on his side before the fire, blanket clutched in his thin hands and violet eyes blinking sleepily into the flames. Giving a relieved sigh, Sky shuffles closer and lays a hand on soft pink locks. Legend starts purring again as Sky gently pets his hair.

He only half-listens to the sounds of the other heroes in the room with him, most of his attention on the cozy bundle before him that is the young hero. As he weaves his hand through his hair, marveling at the softness of it, he senses more than sees someone moving to sit next to him.

“He’s doing it again, huh?” Warriors’ voice, hushed in the quiet peace that’s settled over them all, comes from his left. He joins Sky in reaching out and laying a gentle hand on Legend’s arm. The Vet sniffles once before sighing. Wars runs his hand along his arm in a soothing motion, and his eyes slip shut as he finally nods off.

“So, it’s not anything to worry about then, do you think?” Sky asks, keeping his voice low. “Since he’s just sleeping when he does this?” ‘This’ being tipping over and falling asleep with ease as compared to the restless, guarded nights they’re all used to.

Wars shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. This is-” he stops, looking for the right words. Sky nods; he understands what his brother means.

This is an incredible show of trust. For the Veteran, prickly and snappish and guarded to his core, this may very well be the equivalent of lowering every wall he has and opening the door straight to his heart. Sky’s own heart warms at the realization. He lets himself trust that they will not hurt him, and in turn allows them to protect and care for him at his most vulnerable.

The Chosen Hero turns his head to meet the Captain’s eyes. They both nod, coming to an unspoken agreement that they will do everything they can to keep this trust. Their brother deserves to be able to let his guard down, to be able to open himself up, to know he has people he can depend on, and that none of it will be taken from him.

With a content sigh, Sky lets himself lean into Warriors, resting his head on his shoulder. They each keep a hand on their sleeping brother, protective and soothing both. The two of them will keep watch over their brother tonight, here in this house of safety and warmth and love, to make the most of every ounce of trust they’ve been given.

<< First : Last >>

[flowercrowngods]

✨🤍 some steddie softness for @thefreakandthehair's birthday, i hope it's the very best so far! 🤍✨(please please your day comes first, read this whenever you have time and space to breathe 🤍)

Eddie is not a religious man — far from it, actually. But there are a few things that make him believe in higher powers. In angels. In destiny and luck and a love so strong it could conquer everything. 

This very moment is one of them. 

Stevie, soft and sleepy beside him in the back of the car as Nancy is driving, the dim light of the passing street lamps painting his face in hues of gold like the light itself favours Steve Harrington, caressing his features with the softest of shadows. 

He’s beautiful. Ethereal. Perfectly angelic with his eyes closed, his whole body turned towards Eddie in the warmth of the car.

It takes Eddie’s breath away, his heart taking up space where before there were his lungs and ribcage, growing in size until he feels like he is about to burst. And even then he keeps looking, staring at that pretty face that looks so at peace with the whole world right now. Eddie has never seen Steve like this, but now he understands why people start wars. Why people defy gods and death itself to be with their one true love. Why Orpheus looked back. 

He understands. Because Steve, his Stevie, warm and safe and perfectly fine in the backseat of a car? That is everything. He doesn’t even need to kiss or touch so long as he just gets to look. And be. Oh, to be at the same time that Steve is. 

That might just be life’s greatest gift to him. 

A tiny sigh falls from Steve’s lips and Eddie really, really might be about to burst. 

“Hey, angel,” he whispers, because moments like this aren’t made for anything but hushed words, their truths too heavy, too sincere for the world to hear and keep on spinning. He doesn’t need the world to spin as long as there is Steve. 

“Hi,” Steve whispers back, his eyes still closed but the smile lighting up, luring Eddie in like he is but a moth drawn to the flame. 

Eddie leans in and rests his forehead against Steve’s, his hand coming up to cradle a light-kissed cheek. Steve leans into it, following Eddie’s hand like maybe they are twin stars pulling each other closer until there will be an explosion of light and creation. Steve nuzzles against his palm and leans further into Eddie’s body until they share the same breath — but still it’s not enough. 

Eddie wants to say so many things now that their hands are entangled, their soft exhales mixing. But after a while he notices that Steve is humming before gently singing along to the song coming quietly from the speakers. 

“Take it easy with me, please. Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze. Take your time, make it slow. Andante, Andante. Just let the feeling grow.”

Eddie knows the song, recognises it instantly, and his breath gets stuck in his throat once more. Because he has a secret. He loves it. He has imagined for the longest time that one day, someone would make it his song. Sing it for him, to him. 

He’s never told anyone because he has a reputation to uphold and more than enough metal music to listen to, but of course Steve wouldn’t care about his secrets being secret, and just oh so casually make his deepest, most private of dreams come true. 

He’s an angel, that one. A hero. Myths and fairy tales should be woven around that heart of his, folklore speaking of his name until history itself wouldn’t dare to forget. No one can convince Eddie otherwise. Not in that moment, not with Steve singing so quietly, so gently, so adoringly. 

I think I love you. I think I can’t ever stop, not when I’ve seen you like this. Not when you’ve just shown me what life can be about, what it should be about. Gods, I love you and love you and love you. 

That’s what he wants to say. 

But all that comes out is a marvelled, “Shit, Stevie.”

It has the desired effect of a huffed breath, an even wider smile, and Steve cuddling further into Eddie’s side, eyes still closed. Eddie brushes a kiss to Steve’s forehead and feels like maybe his love can make it into the fairy tale, too. 

It will. Oh, it will, when Steve finally lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder and looks at him through hooded eyes, all soft and sleepy and safe. A moment passes like this and Eddie can’t breathe, maybe he can never breathe again — but it only lasts until Steve slowly, so very slowly begins to lean in to claim Eddie’s lips with a kiss so gentle it could bring him back from the dead. 

Eddie kisses Steve back just as slowly, because in moments like this there is no rush, no hurry. There’s only them, there’s only this. Only a kiss until there is another. 

And with Steve, there is always another. 

Nancy smiles as she is taking the long way to Steve’s house, rounding Loch Nora twice because she knows how comfy Steve gets in cars at night when he doesn’t have to drive and there is soft music playing. 

Eddie kisses her goodbye on the forehead, fully aware of what she’s done. He doesn't tell her about the sun and the myths and all the wars he would start for Steve.

Nights like this are not meant for telling anyone about them. They can hardly be believed as it is. They can only be lived, hand in loving hand.

[runningfrom2am]

kinda famous - d.s

summary: after your debut album charts in the top 100, you somehow get invited to the obx3 premiere. you went there to make connections- but maybe not the exact kind you ended up leaving with.

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: no warnings! just a meet-cute :), drew x musician!reader

requests

nav/masterlists

February 16th, 2023

Not a day went by this past year where you didn't consider yourself incredibly lucky. Your debut album saw some medial success, landing you in the Spotify top one hundred with the help of a TikTok trend to some of the lyrics from your first single. You could hardly believe it was real, sometimes. What always helped, however, is having connections.

Your best friend was a makeup artist to the stars. Working on movies like Avatar and even a few marvel films, but most notably and most recently, she's been working with Madelyn Cline. They've taken a liking to each other, having been in touch about every event, shoot, and movie she's been working on in hopes of having her new friend styling her look for the occasion. Luckily for you, your best friend is your number one fan- and hardly ever does she have a client who isn't forced to sit through your album while she's blending out the makeup on their faces or curling their hair.

Madelyn, apparently, had taken a liking to it. In the words of your best friend, "She was just gushing over it! She requests your music every time she's in my chair. I swear." So that, is how you ended up at the OBX3 premiere, shaking hands with one of the most beautiful actresses of your generation while she complimented both your dress and your music.

"I am seriously such a big fan. B/F/N put me on and I am literally obsessed." Madelyn smiles, dropping your hand.

"Oh my god, you're such a sweetheart- stop." You laugh, waving her off.

She smiles and leans in, resting her hand on your shoulder as she whispers in your ear. "Between us, I can't confirm anything just yet, but I'm working on getting you a soundtrack offer for season four."

You gasp, your hands flying up to cover your mouth to hide your shock. "No- you're literally joking!"

The blonde smiles and shakes her head, giggling and clapping her hands together excitedly. "We all listen to you on set- it's growing on the producers I think."

"Oh my god- Obviously I am so down! Allegedly, of course." You smile, winking at her.

"Yes, of course, Allegedly." She laughs, matching your wink. "I have to run, but we'll jump in for some photos together on the carpet, yeah?" Madelyn grins, giving you a quick hug and brushing past you in the direction of the curtain where everyone lines up for photos.

Feeling absolutely giddy, you're quick to lift your dress and shuffle over to the makeup room, where B/F/N was still working with some other clients doing some touch ups. "Oh my god!" You smile as you approach her chair, where she's just wiping up. You cringe internally at the sound of your music playing over her desk speaker, hearing the way you swore that the man you wrote this song about was the love of your life, and you'd be a fool to let him go. It wasn't long after the release that you ended up having to, discovering he was cheating on you with a girl from his hometown.

"Y/N! Hey girl! Did you get to talk to Mads?" She asks, looking back at you over her shoulder.

"Yes! And I have some serious tea to tell you later. Well- not serious, but good! It's definitely tea." You explain vaguely, knowing she'll understand.

"Yay! Okay, we'll debrief after." She nods. "Did you talk to anyone else?"

You instantly shake your head as she turns to face you. "God, no, I'm petrified." She doesn't answer, holding her finger up in your face and digging through her kit and pulling out a brush.

"Look up." She says, pointing to the ceiling and you oblige as she touches up the shadow under your eyes and brushes away some flaked mascara while she talks. "You need to. You've got to make some more connections- I can't carry you forever." She teases, placing the brush back in her belt when she's done. "They're a lovely cast, trust me."

You nod a little, taking a deep breath. "I just like... don't know what to do. Do I just walk around and talk to people?"

"That's the beauty of it! You're already doing it. Just show that stunning face of yours to the cameras with this beautiful dress, smile, make small talk, and opportunity will fall into your lap. I know you- everyone will love you regardless." She muses, quickly adjusting the waistline of your dress. "And report back to me- of course."

"You're not gonna come? I want some pictures with you. The world needs to see the artist behind this face." You grin, gesturing to your face of makeup and wiggling your eyebrows.

"Yes, of course." She giggles, smacking your shoulder playfully. "I'll change and come find you."

You smile and clap your hands together, bouncing in your heels. "Let's go together! I think I have to because I'm basically your plus one."

"No- absolutely not." She dismisses you quickly, closing up part of her kit and doing some quick organization. "You, my dearest Y/N, need to prove your independence in the industry. Just because you put out your Lover Era album doesn't mean you can't stand proudly on your own after the breakup. Your energy will draw all the cute boys to you. I just know it." She jokes at the end, but you know she's serious about her sentiment.

Your breakup wasn't fresh anymore- she was right. It didn't hurt and keep you up all night over heartache that you had assumed would never get better. You're thriving now, you feel like yourself again. "That's not why I'm here and you know that." You giggle.

"Of course not... It just would be a nice bonus." She shrugs. "Now shoo! You're distracting me. I'll see you in a few." She pushes you away, winking at you before returning to her cleanup duties.

You take a few breathes as you turn around, making a conscious effort to smile as you walk over to the curtain where crew is organizing people and sending them out onto the carpet.

Luckily, you spot the bar not far away, and quickly make your way over to grab a quick glass of wine before you have to step out. You try to sip on it casually, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, but craving the buzz and freedom that comes with being a little tipsy around strangers.

"You're Y/N L/N, right?" Someone approaches you, and you quickly turn to the source of the voice.

"Yes, that's me." You smile, securing your glass in one hand before holding out your hand to shake. The woman takes it, smiling politely as she shakes it.

"Lovely. We're ready for you whenever, just go check in with that lovely gentleman by the curtain and you're free to walk when you're ready." The woman smiles, quickly taking off to go deal with more crew business.

You lean back against the bar, nursing your drink still and glancing in the direction of the dressing rooms and hoping your best friend would walk out in time to join you. You give it another minute as you finish your drink, feeling adequately warmed by the alcohol in your system before approaching the curtain.

"Hey! Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N L/N." You greet the man with the clip board and he nods, giving you a thumbs up and holding the curtain back for you to step out. You take deep breaths and focus on smiling (and not tripping) as you take the few extra paces behind a wall before you'll be in view of the many cameras you can already see flashing at the cast and their friends standing already in their full view. You hear lots of voices as you walk up, but they somehow get a million times louder as you step into the lights.

This isn't your first red carpet, but it is your first premiere. Besides the backdrop curtain, they have a variety of props from the show, including the Twinkie itself, making you giddy with excitement. You make a mental note to yourself to not leave without a picture of you behind the wheel for your instagram.

"Y/N! Look over here!" You hear a dozen voiced calling your name and you decide your best move is to smile and wave, stopping and placing one hand on your hip and just glancing across the whole crowd of camera men and interviewers behind the small fence. You give it a few moments to capture hopefully enough photos for their portfolios before an interviewer pulls you over to chat with them.

"Y/N! So nice to meet you. You look absolutely stunning!" They grin, shaking your hand and holding the mic up to your lips.

"Hello! And thank you so much! It's lovely to meet you too. What's your name?" You ask, smiling at them and giving a quick wave to the cameras still flashing in your face as they record you with one closer up.

"I'm Noah. I'm with Netflix just documenting everyone here tonight." He grins. "So, we were all excited to hear you would be coming tonight! Are you a fan of the show?"

"Oh my god, I'm a huge fan." You gush, looking around at the other people on the carpet. "I was just so lucky to be invited- I was ecstatic when I got the invitation from Madelyn. So nervous, though. So, so nervous."

"I can't imagine!" He chuckles, agreeing with you. "If it makes you feel any better, we've heard from a few members of the cast that they were looking forward to meeting you."

"That does actually help a lot, thank you." You giggle, a blush covering your cheeks. "You mind telling me who, though? I'd love to know who wants to talk to me and who I should probably not bother." You joke.

"Oh, nobody to avoid here. This is one of the nicest casts I've ever worked with." Noah assures you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "That being said, the boys seemed extra keen." He winks, making you laugh.

"Oh god, okay, I'll keep that in mind." You go along with it, looking around and seeing the rest of the cast goofing off a little ways away.

"So, I have to ask, Y/N- keep in mind you don't have to answer if you don't want to, about your breakup- how are you doing? Your album is absolutely amazing, you told a beautiful story, but we've all heard about what happened afterwards." He says, and you glance down nervously, trying to maintain your smile as best you can.

"Yeah, totally. Uh-" You pause for a second. Your ex has never been in the public eye- you were highschool sweethearts, which gave your album a sense of purity and authenticity that was almost rare in modern music. With that, however, comes a responsibility to keep him out of public scandal in the fallout of the albums success. "I am doing really well. I believe my ex is as well. Of course he was always a huge inspiration for me, and he always supported me and my dreams, so I know he's still cheering me on, which is a nice feeling." You nod, smiling as Noah drops his arm from around your shoulders, patting your back.

“Well, you’re stronger than I am because I would want him to be punching the air right now.” Noah laughs.

“No! God, no, I’d never want that for him. I wish him all the success in the world, which just means something different for both of-“ You try to explain, when you get bumped from behind and stumble slightly forward. You let out a little squeak and try to turn to look what happened when someone steadies you by your waist.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to knock you there.” A man chuckles, making sure you’re steady before letting you go. You’re met with blue eyes that reflect the lights and the matching colour of his suit just beautifully, and you quickly recognize him as Rafe- quickly racking your brain for the actors name. Drew- yes. That’s it.

“No! No you’re fine- I was in the way.” You say sheepishly, laughing it off and adjusting your dress again.

“Drew, Welcome back! While I’ve got you both here,” Noah says, holding the microphone up to him as he nods, leaning down a little in anticipation of the question. “Have you listened to Y/N’s album? We were just talking about it.”

Drew nods, smiling and locking eyes with you again briefly. “Yes, of course. It’s both Maddie’s favourites right now, they’ve always got it playing on set. If it wasn’t so good I’d be sick of it.” He chuckles.

“Aw- thank you!” You grin. “Thanks for listening even if it’s against your will.” Your eyes connect again and you feel yourself blushing once more, he just has this aura about him that shows he’s really listening and really cares what you have to say. “Not to plug it here or anything, but we’re almost at ten million streams on spotify so I’m feeling really proud of it, it truly was a passion project for me. Sorry…” You explain, looking back at the interviewer again, trailing off when you realize you’re acting selfishly.

“No, don’t apologize. You worked hard on it- you deserve to talk about it.” Drew cuts in before Noah can speak. “Everyone stream it- you won’t regret it.” He says, pointing to the camera.

“Yes, absolutely.” Noah agrees. “We won’t take up any more of your time, but I’ll let you know we’re all looking forward to your next album already.” He smiles, giving you a quick hug.

“Thank you!” You wave as him and his crew are quick to move onto someone else. You take a deep breath, turning and jumping slightly when you see Drew still standing there, looking down at you as you clasp your hand against your chest. “Oh, gosh. I didn’t know you were still there.” You giggle, quickly adjusting your hair.

“Sorry.” Drew chuckles, holding his hand out to you. “We haven’t properly met. I’m Drew. Or you might know me as Rafe, I guess.”

You smile, taking his hand and shaking it. “Y/N. You might know me as the girl who got cheated on right after releasing an album about how amazing her relationship is.”

This makes him laugh, dropping his head back as he lets go of your hand. “Hey, it’s good to have a sense of humour about it I guess.” He says, locking eyes with you again. His charisma is truly captivating- it’s rare you meet someone in the Hollywood scene who seems to care about anyone other than themselves.

“I’m coping.” You shrug, laughing it off with him.

“Let’s grab a few pictures together, then maybe a drink?” Drew suggests, guiding you back towards where the rest of the cast was taking photos with the beat-up van parked on the carpet. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

“Yeah! Yeah- thank you.” You smile, glancing over your shoulder and seeing your best friend stepping out. She quickly waved at you, giving you an excited look and a thumbs up, which you return behind his back.

No doubt the pictures of this moment will embarrass you tomorrow, but at least the debrief with your best friend in the uber home will have a lot of good things to cover.

taglist: @slut4drudy , @madelynie , @mutual-mendes , @sadfury (i just tagged some mutuals who like my other stuff so if you want to be added or removed lmk!!)

reblogs and feedback are very appreciated as always :)

[fictionismyreality3]

Hold Still

Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Tags: Tattoo Artist!Bucky, innocent!reader if you squint, sorta mutual pining, comfort, fluff

Warnings: tattoos and everything that comes with them

Word Count: 3k

Notes: EEEEEE this is my first oneshot on this blog 🥳 as always not really proofread im not sorry 🤓 I wanted to add like grumpy x sunshine underlines and BARK BARk tattoo artist Bucky 😩🙏🏻 Peace out my homies ✌🏻

The sound of your shoe tapping against the checkered linoleum floor tile filled the waiting room of "Brooklyn's Best Tattoos". It was raining outside and the streets were quiet aside from the occasional horn of an angry driver or a street seller trying to get their final deals for the day. Your bright yellow umbrella stood out against the walls of chipped black paint and a smokey atmosphere.

You kept your gaze flitting about the room, landing on the magazines on a coffee table and stickers placed haphazardly across various furniture. The few people sitting across from you reflected the vibe of the tattoo shop perfectly. Darkly eccentric clothes, skin painted with ink, and a tired look to their eyes.

When you had booked this tattoo appointment you didn't know what to expect. And now, sitting with an awkward stiffness in the hardbacked waiting room chair, you began to question your decision. How embarrassing would it be if you just got up and left? Surely you could get a refund?

It had been 3 months since your Grandpa Henry had passed away, and you didn't want his existence to be some fleeting memory, you had to get something permanent for him. You had been planning on getting some art commission to hang up in your apartment, but that fantasy was quickly dashed by your rather thin wallet.

Even though it was a leap in your confidence, you settled on getting a tattoo. For the past few weeks, the nerves have been building up as you spent your free time researching tattoo shops and what a tattoo would even feel like.

The idea of having your skin permanently marked by something that could end up horrible to look at was more than a bit troubling. That's why you settled on something small and somewhere inconsequential. Sorry Grandpa, but you're going to have to be content out of the spotlight.

Calling the shop was the easy part. It was effortless to talk to the nice lady on the phone about your ideas and listen to her babble on about the latest news. But, now that you were sitting in the waiting room, anticipating the pain of the needles that were soon to be in your skin, you couldn't help but squirm in your seat.

You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts as a woman with tawny skin and bright, neon-pink hair came into the waiting room and called over another young woman to follow her. They walked into the back, or wherever they kept the tattoo rooms, and you noticed with a sigh the ease at which the young woman walked towards inevitable pain.

"Are you the 6 o'clock?" A familiar voice broke through your haze of thoughts. You vaguely placed it as the woman you spoke to on the phone when you booked you an appointment.

Scanning her over, you took in her friendly smile and ostentatious (and probably fake) jewelry, putting a face to the voice. "Yeah, that's me." You answered after a second.

She smiled brightly. She had an almost motherly look to her and a warm and comforting demeanour. Looking around at the peeling linoleum floor, the sticker-covered walls, and the various riff-raff who were inking memories and stories onto their skin, you had a passing thought that she was like the empress of the little tattoo parlour. Her beads and glued-on rhinestones would make a marvellous crown.

You had a quick discussion about price and confirmed what you were getting and then she led you down a short hallway and into a room. As you broke the threshold your ears were filled with 40s music and the soft, low sound of a man humming along. Your eyes drifted over to the source of the voice, who soon spun his stool around to reveal an alarmingly handsome face. Bright blue eyes met yours and your heart did a little somersault in your chest.

"Don't you worry, baby. This is Bucky, he'll take real good care of you." She patted your back and drifted back out of the room, her ebony skin disappearing down the hallway and out of view. As you stood awkwardly near the door, your gaze took in the rest of the room. It was dark and moody, and you figured that each artist must get to decorate their studio to their liking. The cart holding the ink, needles and other supplies stood next to one of those lay-down chairs that the person getting tattooed sits in. The man, Bucky, was already looking at you when you met his gaze again.

"Nervous, huh?" He chuckled lowly.

Your cheeks lit up in a hot blush as you were suddenly aware of how long you had been spacing out. "This is my first tattoo. Why? Was it that obvious?" You asked.

"Pretty obvious, yeah. S'okay. Why don't you sit down for me?" He grinned.

Ignoring the way his voice was like butter, you hopped up on the chair in the middle of the room. The leather was soft against your skin and you traced the tiny cracks in the fabric with your fingers, thinking about how many people had sat there before you. Rolling his stool over to the side of your chair, he grabbed a sketchbook from the cart next to you.

"So, what are you thinking of?" He asked casually as his eyes focused on you.

"I wanted to get an anchor for my grandpa." As you spoke, you got out your phone, pulling out the inspirational photos you had been endlessly looking over, tilting the screen so he could see. You watched as he scrutinized the photos, his brow furrowed in focus as if he was translating the pixels to ink in his mind.

After a second, he looked back up at you with a lazy grin. "Yeah, I can do that no problem."

He was already reaching over for his pens to start sketching the drawing onto transfer paper, and your eyes followed the careful movements, tracing the ink that covered his arms. There was barely an inch of uncovered skin.

The whole drawing took less than fifteen minutes, and the silence was comfortably filled with Bucky rambling about when he got his first tattoo. His low, slightly raspy voice covered you like a blanket, settling over you and calming your nerves. By the time he was finished with the sketch, you had already begun to warm up to him, making small talk that was somehow not awkward.

As he showed you the final version of the sketch, your nerves were calmed even more. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. You talked placement and sizing until the time finally came for the sketch to be transferred onto your skin.

"Alright, so.. on your thigh?" He said warmly.

"I read that it was one of the less painful areas." You said as you ran your fingers over your skin which was soon to be filled with ink. You had worn a skirt so that you didn't have to change or lose any modesty. The last thing you wanted was to flash your tattoo artist, especially now that you got one who was incredibly hot.

"Smart girl." He muttered in passing as he prepped the transfer paper.

You were sure it was just a casual expression, but you couldn't fight the way your cheeks flushed at the compliment. No sooner than you had that thought, Bucky had rolled his stool back over to the chair and had the transfer in his hand.

"Can I?" He asked expectantly.

You looked at him confused for a second before you caught up and inched your skirt up so he could transfer the tattoo onto your thigh.

"Right. Sorry." You watched the way he chuckled to himself as he pressed the sketch into your skin. His hands were warm even through the black latex gloves.

He started getting his needles and ink prepared and you fell back into easy conversation. "Why the anchor? Is your 'pops navy or something?" He asked curiously.

"He was, yeah." You said softly.

You didn't miss the way his hands, which were going through the motions of prepping the tattoo gun as if they had done so a million times before, stilled for just a second. His jaw ticked and he cleared his throat and resumed his preparations.

"Sorry for your loss. My family is army." He said quietly after a moment. You took the distraction of his past eagerly, wanting to think of something other than your Grandpa.

"Are you?" You asked carefully.

"I was, yeah. Now I do this." He said and gestured around the room. "You ready?"

Your awareness was suddenly brought back to the impending pain you were about to feel as your eyes locked on the tattoo gun hovering closer and closer to your skin. Your heart rate spiked as a pang of anxiety ran through your chest and your thoughts began to spiral. How long would it take? How much would it hurt? What if it got infected? As if he could sense your suddenly fearful thoughts, Bucky lowered the tattoo gun.

"Hey, it'll be fine. I've been doing this for years and you chose a really small design. It'll be over before you know it." He spoke reassuringly.

With a nod from you, he raised the tattoo gun, one hand on your thigh to steady himself, and made the first line. The pricking pain hit you instantly. It was sharp and stung like you were getting a vaccination or blood drawn. You always had a low pain tolerance, and don't know why that piece of knowledge decided to hide in your brain until now. If you knew it would have hurt this much, maybe you would have changed your mind. A whimper bubbled past your lips embarrassingly. Bucky's eyes darted up to yours, his brows furrowed with a little too much concern for someone you just met.

"Hey, hey, hey.. deep breath. You're okay. That's it…" He cooed soothingly.

You resisted the urge to hide your face in your hands and tried to mimic the way Bucky was breathing. Even though he was actively tattooing you, he kept his hand on your skin, watching your expression carefully. It was big enough to cover the entire width of your thigh. The latex of his glove suddenly felt far too thin. When he was satisfied you reached somewhat of a calmer state, he resumed his work, the needles pricking your skin once more.

"Alright, sweetheart, let's get this done." He muttered, almost to himself.

You closed your eyes to distract yourself, but it only made you more focused on the pain of the tattoo gun. But then the pain was paired with the calming touch of Bucky stroking the skin of your thigh with his steadying hand. Your eyes peeked open to the sight of him focusing, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in concentration. Well, that's certainly distracting. You were all too aware of the way your skirt was pushed up. Even though it was for the sake of the tattoo, it was beginning to feel far too hot. As if he could feel your eyes on him, Bucky's gaze snapped up to yours and you quickly looked away.

The silence was filled with the quiet buzzing of the tattoo gun and Bucky humming along to the music playing on the radio. You were doing okay. You were gritting your teeth and bearing through it, not wanting to embarrass yourself further in front of your stupidly attractive tattoo artist. But it was late and you were getting tired. The pain was steadily growing from a dull ache into an overwhelming sting. You didn't even realize you were whining until the needles were no longer pricking your skin and Bucky was putting the tattoo gun down.

"Shh, it's okay, princess. We can take a break, yeah?" He said gently.

His hands were on your thighs as he rubbed your skin comfortingly, and you couldn't help but want to whine for a different reason.

"How much longer?" You asked with a wavering voice. Bucky's eyes softened, and he glanced at the half-finished anchor on your thigh and back up to you.

"We're almost done. You ready to get going again?" He asked as he picked up the tattoo gun.

Not trusting your voice, you elected simply to nod. As the pain returned, your nails dug into the leather of the chair, and you wondered if that's where the cracks you saw earlier came from. You knew you were beginning to get shaky, and even though you read about it during your anxious preparation, it was still upsetting. You looked around the room, trying to take your mind off the literal needles that were stabbing into you hundreds of times per second. Maybe you could distract yourself from figuring out the darkly gorgeous man tattooing you.

He kept the lights of the room low, probably to keep people calm, and the posters on the walls were at least nice to look at. There was a pair of dog tags hanging off a lamp on the desk in the corner, and you chalked that up to his army past. There were some plants, but the only one still alive was the cactus on the windowsill. But, you couldn't preoccupy yourself for long. Every time you thought you were getting used to the pain, a new wave of discomfort would hit you, leaving you whimpering in the chair. Your breath was getting a little shallow, and your other leg started bouncing to release some pent-up energy.

Bucky's hand which was comfortingly rubbing the thigh that he was tattooing shot out and grabbed your other leg, his fingers gripping your skin so firmly, the sudden sensation distracted you enough that your squirming stilled.

"Fuck, you gotta hold still, dolly." He rasped. "How 'bout you tell me about your 'pops?"

His voice was strained and you bit your lip to stifle a whimper. Your skirt was pulled up enough that his hand on your non-tattooed leg was high enough to be considered intimate. At least, it certainly felt that way to you. He squeezed your thigh, focusing your attention back on him, before he put it back on the leg he was tattooing.

"Talk, princess. You're almost done." He commanded softly.

The pain was still at the forefront of your mind, but now it was fighting with the heat in your core that was slowly growing.

"Um.. he was a sailor. He.. his name was Henry." You began to recall fond memories of your Grandpa, and the pain of the tattoo slowly faded into a manageable ache.

"That's a good girl. Keep talking, sweetheart." He muttered quietly.

The praise made your breath hitch and the sound that fell from your lips wasn't from pain anymore. The only sign that he noticed your breathy whine was the little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"And… all done." He announced.

The buzzing of the tattoo gun ceased and Bucky had already put it down, as if the tattoo never even happened. The only evidence of what you'd struggled through for the last hour was the perfectly executed anchor on your skin and the dull ache of your thigh. Bucky had already moved back over to you and was starting to clean and wrap your leg. His hands brushed the skin of your inner thigh, causing you to suck in a sharp breath, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment. There was that smirk again.

"That's it?" You asked breathlessly.

"That's it. You did so well, princess." He said as he finished wrapping your thigh. After putting his supplies back onto the cart, he pulled your skirt back down almost protectively, his hands lingering a little too long to be professional.

"Here. You even get a lollipop for being such a good girl." He grinned as helped you off the chair, his hand brushing yours as he handed you the candy.

He said the praise so casually, but it still sent your head spinning and your cheeks burning with a dusting of pink.

"Thanks…" You mumbled.

"You can pay at the front. Call us if you have any questions. Be safe, princess." He said as his eyes drifted down to your thigh.

Your heart sank as you kicked yourself for thinking there was even a sliver of attraction that he felt for you. Obviously, the hot tattoo artist must get girls fawning over him all the time, you weren't anything special. Biting back a frown, you nodded and thanked him one more time before heading back up to the front of the store to pay. The friendly babbling of the same dark-skinned woman who had taken you to Bucky's tattoo room went in one ear and out the other. Your head was way too messy to pay attention.

After thanking the staff one more time, you grabbed your umbrella and coat and headed back out into the rainy Brooklyn streets. As you walked back to your apartment, your thoughts endlessly drifting back to Bucky, you pulled the lollipop out of where you'd put it in your pocket. If you couldn't have him, at least you had candy. Just as you were about to mindlessly crumple up the wrapper, you noticed something scrawled in pen on the plastic. It was an address and a phone number.

'Dinner this weekend. Don't be shy, doll.' It read.

You stopped in your tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, ignoring the dirty looks of the pedestrians who nearly walked into you, smiling like an idiot. It wasn't even written as a question and you could hear his low, slightly raspy voice saying the words in your head. The ache in your thigh, the ache in your heart, and even the now permanent marking on your body were all worth it. You had the passing thought that maybe your Grandpa was setting you up from wherever he was.

"Thanks, Grandpa.." You whispered to yourself and walked home with a spring in your step.

[pillowspace]

NOTE: although I've now finished Ruin, this was written for fun when I had only seen the first half. Its relation is limited

(Wasn't) Worth Fixing by clutterspace

You find the Daycare Attendant of your childhood hidden behind your apartment building, severely damaged.

You... probably weren't intended to.

G | Words: 1,386 | Chapters: 1/1

∘₊✧────────────────────✧₊∘

Your mother used to work as a technician at the pizza place half-way across town when you were little. It took some time for you really memorize the name—Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizzaplex—when all you did as a young child was raise your hands up high to your mother so tall and ask when you could go to pizza.

For every day she had gone to work, she brought you with her. You boundlessly scribbled in Freddy Fazbear themed colouring books with crayon on the near silent bumpy car ride there, as she had always requested the quiet before the cacophany of shouting noise the mall offered its full family guests. And much too young to be let loose among the older children, you had always been dropped off at the establishment's daycare before her shift.

The place had once held a charm to it, a brightly coloured wonder of dizzying family fun that evolved into a more thoughtful appreciation for the advanced robotics you eventually grew old enough to possess. Even the daycare had been attended to by a single machine, and to this day, you genuinely wondered sometimes if the bounciness of life its creaky frame held had really been there at all, a marvel of technological advancement, or if it was only the low standard magic that all little eyes saw the world through. Your memories were few and far between, but it had been a joyous place that looked upon you kindly, and much of that credit went to that very machine in place.

It was enough to make you feel a little bad for just how much you begged your mother to let you freely roam outside of the daycare later on, but life went on and on for little minds, and it wasn't a thought worth lingering upon.

When you blessedly just barely became old enough for it, you had gotten your wish granted to you by your exhausted mother, and stuck closely around the Glamrocks and their masses of crowds from then on. It was an endlessly exciting change from the norm, and the musical daycare of childish screams and brightly enthused words of encouragement that had welcomed you with open arms became an afterthought.

You had asked your mother one day where Bonnie went. The older kids had spoken in jokes that fell like cruelty upon your ears, and it was only your mother who might as well have been the CEO in your eyes who you could trust. Older now, you knew there was no harm in the jokes the other children had made among one another, but that a mind so easily swayed could only listen in horror.

Your mother had not sugar-coated it, much too used to the more grown-up side of her occupation to bother. You would have been fine to hear that he was on vacation, or off to bigger and better performances across the globe. You would have smiled, proud to hear of his accomplishments. But the words she told you had been without care.

He wasn't worth fixing, so they got rid of him.

It had been a nagging fear that crept over your spine for a year afterwards that the same could ever happen to you, childishly lacking in the understanding of your differences in value to the surrounding world.

And it was as you silently stared back into the wild, frozen, broken eyes dimly illuminating the dark, filthy alleyway between apartment buildings in vibrant yellow and red hues, with a right hand on your own open back door's handle and a left hand tightly gripped around a filled garbage bag at your side years later, that those very words rung back to you.

Police sirens blared in the distance, but that was the usual.

People talked, but knew little. There had been something off from the usual in town lately, police cars circling the area endlessly. They were looking for someone, or something. And your neighbours speculated, but they all speculated different topics amongst themselves, bringing all that mystery down to a he said, she said, who cares anymore. It all became naught but a backdrop with no follow-up.

Maybe no one wanted to hear a possibly dangerous animatronic was on the loose. Or- no. Maybe just no one wanted to admit to the potentially catastrophic failing, what with the previous rumours already spiralling out of control. A silent capture was in play.

The animatronic looked banged up, shattered holes all along its body. Fabric was littered with rips and tears, while not an inch of casing went uncracked. Its rays adorned with a familiar blue hat were broken, and its faceplace was almost entirely shattered in half. But despite all of the horrific damage it bore, you could recognize the animatronic for the daycare of your early childhood from anywhere, even though only an hour prior, you would not have recalled its form. It held itself still under your gaze, and you too did not move, for there was a shocked terror in the way it held itself firmly pressed against the bottom of the wall, too-thin metal fingers cracking the pavement beneath it.

It looked so scared for something (someone?) that could easily do to you what it was doing to the pavement. Though you doubted that it had any desire to do so.

You didn't know how long you two stared, until finally, you took the slowest step you could towards the garbage bin that stood only a couple feet away in the dim alleyway. The second you moved even an inch, a mechanical hum rose in volume from the wary animatronic's metal body that reminded you of the sounds your own computer makes. It didn't move, didn't talk, only watched you out of the corner of your eye as you ever so slowly made your way towards the bin. You lifted the garbage bag into it, and the clattering sound of its contents shifting within rung out much too loud for the careful silence you required. You internally recoiled from the noise, but outwardly showed not a reaction as you inched your way back towards your door as if nothing out of place had been seen at all.

Your hand fell upon the door as you stepped up across the threshold. You did not walk any further, and instead looked over your shoulder at the vulnerable state the broken, hiding animatronic you had unintentionally spotted was in. You inhaled, feeling doubtfully uncertain, but reminiscent for the sounds of shrieking laughter and the ever so foggy memory of a large sunshine grin poking into a play structure to announce that you had been found. As advanced as its facial recognition likely was, you sincerely doubted that it could connect you back to the toddler you had once been. It had no idea who you were, and therefore had no intentions of ever having been seen by you. But even if it did, would that matter at all? You couldn't be but a single file and a brief, fading memory to its systems.

(It seemed smaller like this, but you knew that you had only grown taller.)

He wasn't worth fixing, so they got rid of him.

"They check this alleyway," you whispered into the cool night air. A small clicking sound of an unknown origin sounded out from the animatronic at the sound of your voice. It did not respond, but you did not expect it to.

You turned away and walked inside of your home, intent on brushing your teeth and going to bed.

You did not close the door behind you. An unspoken invitation, because surely you would not be to blame if the ever so frightening machine found its way into your home all on its own.

You stayed in your bedroom for the rest of the night, and when the muffled sounds of police sirens finally circled back towards your street, you just barely heard the almost inaudible sound of your back door quietly clicking shut. You did not emerge, no matter what shuffling noises you heard afterwards, and instead rolled over in bed to play a song from your phone's lit screen into your newly pushed in earbuds.

If anyone asked, they had been in all night.

[sailor-aviator]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Alcohol consumption, Sassy Bob, Flirty Bradley, Supernatural elements, Siren calls. I think that's it?

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: Here is chapter one!! I hope you enjoy this story as much as I am enjoying writing it lol I'm so excited to continue this one. Just a quick reminder to you all that I will be out of town Wednesday-Saturday, so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to update as I will be attending a wedding! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also follow me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I will be posting updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

You crossed the bridge to North Island a few hours later, the sun hanging low in the sky, but not quite to the point of setting. You marveled at the expanse of water that stretched on beneath you as you drove.

“Not sure why the founders wanted to settle way the hell out here,” Bob grumbled beside you. “We’re too small to even have a damn Walmart.”

“Walmart is overrated,” you told him, turning the radio down. “Besides, small towns are so cute!”

“Not when you’re forced to live there every day,” Bob retorted with a roll of his eyes. You rolled your eyes back at him, repositioning Rusty who still sat on your lap.

“You’re too close to it to see all the charm it has to offer.”

“I give it two weeks before you eat those words,” he smirked. You reached over to smack his shoulder lightly, and he looked over at you in mock shock. “Don’t hit the driver!”

“Well, maybe the driver shouldn’t be such a cynic,” you teased, leaning back. Bob chuckled as the car reached the other side of the bay, passing the crowded beaches. “Does North Island get a lot of tourists?”

“Only during the summertime, really,” he replied. “It’s a calm, quiet little town with white beaches and pretty views all over the island. The founders have really played into the local legends over the years, so we have a lot of souvenir shops dedicated to those.”

“What local legends?” you asked him, quirking a brow. Bob flushed, the tips of his ears turning a bright red.

“It’s dumb,” he grumbled, but you were listening intently now.

The two of you drove through the downtown area, people milling about and enjoying the end of the summer day. The dinner crowd was beginning to pick up and you could hear the music blaring from several different buildings.

“No, come on,” you grinned. “You can’t drop that little tidbit and then not tell me.”

“Alright, fine,” he sighed, glancing at you. “For as long as the town has been around, there have been stories of…things in the water.”

“What do you mean? Like a really big fish or something?”

He shifted in his seat, turning down a side road that led away from town.

“I mean,” he hummed, “things like mermaids.”

You laughed at that, and Bob grimaced. “I told you it was dumb,” he muttered.

“No, no,” you giggled. “It’s cute, really. I love mermaids!”

He rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t if you grew up surrounded by them.”

“There you go being all cynical again,” you scowled. “I would have killed to live somewhere like this with such fun local legends.”

Bob pulled down a gravel driveway and past a grouping of trees. You saw a grand, white house perched at the edge of the hill overlooking the water. A porch wrapped around both the first and second floor, and you saw a path lead down the hill towards the beach.

“I’m glad one of us is excited to be here,” he chuckled, coming to a stop on the blacktop as you stared at the large house in front of you.

“You live here?” You asked, looking over at him in shock.

Bob had the decency to look sheepish as he turned off the car. “Yeah, this is home.”

At that moment, a small, blonde woman opened the door with a wide grin. She rushed out onto the porch as a burly, spectacled man stepped out behind her. Bob opened his door, and you followed suit. Susan Floyd rushed down the steps and up towards you, wrapping you in a warm hug before turning to give her son a matching one. Richard Floyd gave you a warm smile as he clapped his son on the back.

“You two must be exhausted after that drive,” Susan cooed, ushering you into the house as the two men moved to get your luggage out of the car. You smiled warmly at her and allowed her to lead you into the house.

“I’m not too tired,” you told her as she sat you down in a stool by the island in the kitchen. It was a spacious room, opening up into the dining room. A set of glass doors led out onto the back porch, the ocean sitting front and center in the beautiful view of the beach below.

“That’s good,” she hummed, stirring the pot on the stove. “Are you hungry, sweetie? I made some of my special spaghetti. It’s Bobby’s favorite, you know.”

Bob groaned as he stepped into the kitchen with his father. “Mom, I’ve told you. It’s not Bobby, it’s Bob.”

Susan smiled at the younger man affectionately. “Yes, of course dear. Were you hungry?”

“Starved, actually,” he smiled, plopping down in the seat next to you. Susan began piling noodles and sauce onto two different plates before setting them down in front of the two of you. Bob uttered a thanks before shoveling a healthy fork full into his mouth. You giggled, watching as he ate like he hadn’t eaten in months. You took a much smaller bite than he had, humming at how good the sauce tasted. It had a hint of red wine that pulled out the flavors of the garlic and herbs.

“How’s it taste?” she smiled at you, leaning against the counter.

“Ifs delisus,” Bob said through a mouthful of noodles. She scowled at him before throwing a napkin at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful,” she scolded before turning to look at you expectantly. You chuckled before nodding your agreement.

“It’s delicious, Mrs. Floyd.”

“No, none of that,” she scowled. “Call me Susan.”

“Yes, Susan,” you smiled. She smiled at you before turning to clean up the rest of the kitchen. Bob inhaled his first plate of spaghetti, and Susan was quick to load his plate up with more.

“Has Bob told you any of the town’s history yet, y/n?” Richard asked you from his spot at the dining room table. Bob groaned, hiding his face in his hands as you smiled.

“He told me about the mermaid legends,” you grinned. You saw Susan pause out of the corner of your eye as Richard gave you a wry smile.

“I don’t know if I would call them mermaids,” he mused, giving a pointed look at his son who refused to meet his gaze. “But our town has a long, storied history, yes.”

“Oh?” You asked, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

Richard hummed, leaning back in his chair. “No, mermaid is an insulting term for what these creatures are. They’re fierce hunters, preying these waters with deadly accuracy. Sometimes they even hunt on land.”

“What do you mean?” You frowned. Susan gave him a warning look, but he continued.

“They say these creatures come out of the depths to prey on humans on the land, dragging them into the depths never to be seen again.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Susan snapped at him, Richard giving her an apologetic look. “I don’t want to hear any more of that nonsense tonight. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go take out the trash?”

Richard heaved a sigh, standing to obey her. He passed you with a wink, dropping a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, y/n,” he smiled, turning to head out the door. Susan sighed, turning to look at you once she heard the door close behind him.

“I’m sorry about him,” she grumbled, shooting a glare at where her husband had just disappeared. “He loves those crazy stories. Don’t even pay him any mind, okay?”

“I don’t mind!” You assured her. “I think it’s all very interesting. The most anyone talks about where I’m from is Bigfoot.”

“As much as I would love to hear you go on your bigfoot theories tirade again,” Bob spoke up, rolling his eyes. “I thought you might want to go out tonight.”

“Bobby, I’m sure she’s tired,” his mother started, but you shook your head, turning excitedly to look at your best friend.

“No, it’s fine!” You chirped. “I think it would be fun to go out and get to see the sites. Where did you have in mind?”

“I was thinkin’ I could take you down to the Hard Deck,” he mused.

Susan rolled her eyes at him. “You want to take her to a bar of all things?”

“Why not? The gang is going to be there tonight, I already texted them to make sure. They’re anxious to meet her.”

Susan seemed to brighten at that. “Oh, you’ll love’em, y/n! They’re such a good group of kids, and I just know they’ll love you too.”

“So we have your blessing then?” Bob joked, earning another scowl.

“Yes, you kids go out and have a good time, but don’t be out too late! I think your father said something about wanting to take the boat out tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He mock saluted, earning a smack to the top of his head this time. You chuckled at the two of them as Bob rubbed the back of his head. He turned to look at you with a scowl at your obvious amusement. “C’mon, I’ll show you your room.”

The night was warm despite the cool breeze blowing in through the window from the ocean, and you chalked it up to the densely populated bar you now found yourself sitting in. You had followed Bob inside, having to grab his hand in order to keep from getting separated amongst the crowd.

“Bob!”

You turned to see a group of five seated at a large table on the far wall next to the patio. The only woman in the group raised her hand to grab his attention, and Bob eagerly dragged you over to them.

“Hey, college boy,” grinned a tanned man with long, curly hair that was slicked back. “How’s it hangin’?”

“More importantly,” said the dark-skinned man across from him, looking at you, “who’s your friend?”

“Guys, this is y/n, my best friend from Duke,” he gestured to you with a grin. “Y/n, this is Mickey, Reuben, Natasha, Javy, and Bradley.”

Each of them waved to you at the mention of their name, and you waved back with a small smile. The mustached one, Bradley, grinned up at you before shuffling over on the bench.

“Ain’t no need to be shy, sunshine,” he winked at you, gesturing to the now open seat next to him. “We’re all friends here.”

You sat down slowly next to him, Bob scooting onto the bench across from you and next to Natasha.

“So, y/n,” she smiled, leaning forward with intrigue clear in her eyes, “where you from?”

“Oh, I’m from Missouri,” you smiled at her.

“Missouri?” Mickey snorted, earning a ribbing from Javy. You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, it’s not glamorous or anything, but it’s home,” you explained.

Reuben leaned around Bradley to look at you. “So you were in the same major as Bob, right? How did you even get into that?”

“Oh, I’ve always had a fascination with the sea, I guess. Felt like I might have been a mermaid in another life,” you joked, and the group chuckled, earning a look from Bob as you looked around uncertainly. “Did I say something funny?”

“Nah, sunshine,” Bradley grinned. “It’s just cute is all. Imagine you being a little mermaid.”

“In fairness, I was five,” you blushed, and he reached down to pinch your cheek gently.

“Don’t go gettin’ shy on us again,” he drawled. Javy rolled his eyes, taking a sip from the glass of beer in front of him.

“You’re almost putting Jake to shame right now,” he chuckled, causing Mickey and Reuben to both snort. Bob looked around the bar, brow furrowing.

“Speaking of, where is he?” He asked the rest of the group. Bradley let out a low chuckle, resting his arm behind you as Natasha rolled her eyes at the name.

“Mandy has been especially clingy, as of late,” Reuben frowned, peering towards the bar with a pointed look. Bob turned, frowning at what he saw. “Been dropping hints left and right for weeks. She barely leaves his side.”

“Well, yeah,” Bradley scoffed, taking a swig from his bottle. “I’m not surprised since it’s almost time for-”

Natasha cleared her throat, giving a pointed glance to you.

“Almost time for what?” you asked, looking around at the table. No one said a thing, giving small glares at Bradley who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat and looked down at you, an easy smile spreading across his face.

“I just noticed that you don’t have a drink, sunshine,” he said. “Why don’t you come with me to the bar, and I’ll get you something?”

You gave one last look around the table before nodding slowly. “Yeah, okay. I could use a drink.”

You stood, Bradley close behind you, and you looked over at Bob. “You’re usual?”

“Please,” he said, giving you a tight lipped smile. You returned it softly, following Bradley up to the bar.

“Bradley,” hummed the older woman behind the bar, green eyes narrowing in on him as she saw you next to him.

“Penny,” he smirked, leaning against the counter. She walked over to the two of you, placing a hand on her hip as she frowned at him.

“What can I get you?” She asked him.

“Two beers and?” He turned to you, eyebrow raised.

“A jack and coke, please,” you smiled at her. She returned the gesture warmly, moving to make your drink.

“You best be careful around this one, honey,” she drawled, eyeing the man next to you. “He has a habit of goin’ around breaking hearts.”

“Penny, you wound me,” Bradley cried in mock hurt, gaping mouth quickly turning into another grin. He shot you a wink. “I would never do that to sunshine here.”

Penny snorted, handing him two beers and you your glass. “Right. You’re no better than Seresin over here.”

She jerked her head to the other side of the bar. You followed her gaze, seeing a blond man turn at the sound of his name. He glanced over to where Penny was looking at you and Bradley leaning up against the bar. He had an easy smirk on his face that rivaled Bradley’s, and when he turned his green eyes to you, you swear your heart stopped beating for a moment. His eyes were like sea glass, a frosty, almost moss colored green. It was like the world faded to black around you as you looked at him. You felt something that you could only describe as a tether snapping into place as his eyes bore into yours. If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn his eyes started glowing as he continued to stare into the very depths of your soul.

“Y/n?”

Your eyes snapped to the side where Bradley was watching you worriedly. You shook the silly thoughts from your head. “I’m sorry, what?”

Bradley chuckled down at you, a hint of worry still tugging at his lips.

“I was just asking if you were ready to head back to the others?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, glancing back at the stranger across the bar. He was still staring at you, face unreadable. The brunette standing next to him looked very put out as he continued to ignore her.

“Jake!” She hissed at him, gripping his jaw and turning his face to look at her. “Are you listening to me?”

Jake looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “Huh?”

“You are so dense sometimes,” she snapped, dropping her hand back to her side. The stranger, Jake, glanced back over at you, and the brunette followed his line of sight, scowling when she saw you. Bradley let out a low whistle before nudging you with his elbow playfully.

“Would sure hate to be him right about now,” he joked, an exaggerated grimace making you giggle. “Mandy is no joke when she’s pissed.”

“Jake!” Mandy shrieked. You chanced another look across the bar. Mandy looked like she was about to blow a fuse as she stared daggers between you and the man at her side. Said man was now frowning, eyes darting between you and Bradley. “I’m talking to you!”

“C’mon, sunshine,” Bradley said with a roll of his eyes at the couple across the bar. “If we stay any longer, I might lose my hearing.”

You followed him back to the table silently, still feeling the heavy weight of two green eyes on your back.

You slept with the window open that night, eager to feel the sea air on your skin as you slept. Your curtains billowed lightly as the moonlight poured into your room. You tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. Your bed wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite in fact, so you weren’t sure what had woken you up. You glanced at your phone, the numbers on the screen showing that it was far too early in the morning to still be awake. You huffed out a sigh, listening to the waves as they crashed against the shore below. That was when you heard it.

You weren’t sure what it was at first, it was so unlike anything you had ever experienced. It was a low hum that slowly turned into a lamentful cry amongst the breaking waves. You tossed your blankets back, quickly getting up and padding over to the window. The cry turned into what you could only describe as a song, not too dissimilar to one a whale would make, but this sounded almost…human? You peered out the window, heart racing as you continued to listen to the strange song. You felt a yearning unlike any other crescendo inside of you, calling to you from a distance almost like it wasn’t even your own. Your mind began to feel heavy, hazy with what, you weren’t sure. The song continued, calling to you, begging you to follow. Your eyes grew lidded, skin warm as you felt the call seep into your skin, drowning everything out but the inherent need to obey. You turned, taking a step towards your door.

A dog began to bark, causing you to jump and the song to stop. Shaking the cloudiness from your mind, you looked out the window once again. You caught sight of what you could only describe as a fish’s tail, silver scales gleaming in the moonlight, rising up before disappearing back beneath the waves.

[g0ry0re0]

Josh Futturman (Future Man, 2017, TV Show) - Headcanons

Description: [18+ MDNI] AU where the reader experiences the show's events with Tiger, Wolf, and Josh. This takes place at the end/after the show where you and Josh live together as a couple. / Josh Futturman x GN!Reader

General Notes: Established Relationship, Reader Show Insert, Slight Spoilers For The Ending Of Future Man, Gender Neutral Reader, Romantic Headcanons, Sexual Headcanons Mixed In, No Use Of Y/N, Slight Cursing

Author's Note: Needed to do some headcanons to fill the JHutch void on Tumblr right now, and to get myself back into writing actual fics lol. Also, I can't believe this is only the second thing I've done for my baby boy, Futturman. I love him so much. Hope y'all enjoy! <3

Word Count/Bullet Point Count: 523 Words/30 Bullet Points

You and Josh road trip from Iowa back to California soon after stopping the existence of time travel

You find yourselves doing odd jobs to keep yourself afloat, Josh often doing cleaning jobs

Y'all find a dingy little apartment on the outskirts of L.A.

Despite the smallness of the shitty apartment, you and Josh declared that you didn't need that much anyway, as long as you had each other

Josh definitely gets back into gaming once you come to terms with being stuck in the 2000s

He particularly enjoys Street Fighter EX3 and Tekken Tag Tournament on the PS2 (until Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy 10 come out in the next few years)

You also acquire a Gamecube system once it comes out the next year

You liked playing Pikmin and Mario Kart: Double Dash together (you always played as Luigi to spite him)

You both also try to get into taking care of small plants

There's a lot of dead plants on your kitchen windowsill

Though, Josh has the first flower you ever grew together pressed and hung in your bedroom

After everything that happened, Josh is pretty clingy

When you wake up in the morning, Josh does not leave your side

Whether you're making breakfast, coffee, or just trying to get ready, Josh is practically attached to your hip

He gets especially clingy at night when you two make dinner together and watch a movie y'all rented from Blockbuster

He likes to cuddle A LOT, which can often lead to some more intimate activities

After the events at Haven, Josh was a little nervous about sparking any private moments between you two

But, after the first time together, he quickly got over it

He was worried he would hurt you at first too, but the things you went through in the past few "however-much-time-has-passed", you showed that you can take a little pain

He loves how good you take him, as if you two were made for each other

Unless Josh gets pissed for some reason, he is a definite sub

His favorite position is having you on top in any way, shape, or form

Josh is a sucker for pleasuring his partner, first and foremost, to where he can nearly get himself off just thinking about it

Besides being sexually intimate, you both just love physical contact in general

Josh loves taking you out on little dates, taking you to his favorite places in L.A. (sometimes forgetting what year it is and finding out that place doesn't exist yet)

Josh especially loves taking you to Little Tokyo and the Arts District

Josh also loves when music he enjoys is released and he can finally listen to it again (instead of humming it to himself in the shower)

Same goes for films, he really enjoys being able to go to the theaters to experience it for the "first time" with other people. especially the Marvel movies later on

When Josh observed his parents for the first time, he cried

The last time Josh visited his parents, you took him away with the promise of a picnic in the park before his dad could say anything to him

Masterlist Link

Divider: saradika and saradika-graphics on tumblr

Gif: marlosrph on tumblr

[sprunkrat]

I have some thoughts about Amazon's Fallout TV Show.

The show is of course disrespectful to West Coast Fallout, but in a more insulting way than just having the many iconic elements of the classic games be reused over and over again. You start to really feel as though that Bethesda resents the success and continued interest in New Vegas, and while that may be true, it doesn't explain the mountain of references to both the classic Fallouts and New Vegas.

I assume there was need to appeal to the fans of the West Coast, as the TV show is a large event and they would make a portion of viewership. There's all sorts of things sprinkled in, the Brotherhood is fashioned to be more medieval with monk robes and rituals, one of the props used for a pistol is a recreation of the stupid Hard Boiled magazine-fed revolver from Fallout 1. These references are all just borrowing from the aesthetics from prior games, though. It was probably expected that FNV fans would be happy with this representation alone.

Maybe they didn't see that there would be such a negative reaction to flattening all that has been built up in the West Coast, people would just be happy to see the NCR and New Vegas, even though they were nuked or left in ruin. Maybe people would point at the screen when they saw Robert House, not caring that his inclusion contradicts his ideology and goals in FNV. Why would they change the West Coast so much? Well, maybe they don't know what to do with it after FNV. Or that the fact that the West Coast has actual nations and progress doesn't fit well with Bethesda's view of the series of just being a perpetual apocalypse where you can explode raiders' heads while listening to 50s music. There is another reason I haven't seen discussed, but I need to first write about another part of the show that bothered me.

There's definite anti-capitalist themes in this show, as there is in all of Fallout. The Fallout show is different in the way that they aren't particularly background, just told in old world terminals and other storytelling. They are front and centre to the final few episodes of the series, but told in a very bad way. It's not the general system of capitalism caused America to keep declining to it's eventual fall anymore, it's rather disappointingly been changed to simply a shady cabal of evil capitalists that decided to drop the bomb because it would be profitable. And don't worry, the group trying to fight back against this aren't actual communists, they are rich Hollywood actors, so it's all good, they aren't like actual communists who deserve how they are treated under this America. It's rather a boring way of going about it.

It's the use of the line "War never changes." in the scene where this is all revealed that made me realise a potential reason why the slate in the West Coast was wiped clean. I think they are interpreting "War never changes." as "The world will always be in a state of perpetual war, new societies will arise but they will always fall as violence and cruelty is innate to human existence." rather than "War doesn't change despite how it's fought; no advance of technology or reasoning will change how pointless it is and the end result of suffering and destruction."

To demonstrate this, the NCR must fall. Just have Vault-Tec nuke it like they did for the old world, no matter how unsatisfying of a fall for the NCR that may be.

With the Marvel-esque sequel stinger of New Vegas being a setting of season 2, I'm morbidly curious if they will continue to mess up further, but maybe it's time to just let go and stick to the old games that I actually enjoy.

[brairslair]

Hey!! I loved your Peter Parker fic!!

I hope you're taking requests, if yes can you please write harry potter x ravenclaw!reader? Where reader is a muggleborn and loves muggle music, she does this thing where she gives all her friends a song which reminds her of them, even multiple to Hermione (who secretly loves it and listens to those on loop) and ron( who tries to act like he doesn't care but secretly feels loved) but she's never given harry a song, despite him being her best friend. But after one of DA meetings they are alone and harry asks her why doesn't she give him a song (fallin' all in you- Shawn Mendez) and she plays it for him a and that it reminds her of him, AND THEY KISS!!

I'm really sorry if it's too specific, please feel free to change anything! THANK YOU SM!! I LOVE YOUR FICS!!❤️❤️✨

definitely not too specific! i love that you gave me so much to work with, so ty anon! i did switch it up a little bit, but i hope it turned out to your liking!

318 Hours 43 Minutes ˗ˏˋ H.J.P ´ˎ˗

“Be my summer in a winter day, love”

harry potter x ravenclaw!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

REQUESTED: yes requests are open! fandoms: marvel, stranger things, harry potter (any era), scream

WARNINGS: fem reader, not proofread, fluff fluff fluff, muggleborn!reader, reader is described as somewhat of a musical prodigy, modern music, mobile phones, and spotify all exist in this timeline, 7th year, kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lover ig, joking mentions of death, lmk if i missed smth!

A/N: i'm sure there are tons of grammatical errors in here but lets pretend we don't see them!

ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE 18+ remember to like, comment, and reblog to support my writing!

If there was one thing you couldn't live without, it would be music. It was almost impossible to recall a time you had left your dorms without your headphones. Music had just always been a huge part of your life. Growing up, your parents got you into piano lessons, and you were playing Beethoven by the end of the first month. After that, you picked up as many instruments as you could afford, starting with violin, then guitar, the flute, and now the harp. Your parents had to soundproof the house.

Once you got your acceptance into Hogwarts as a witch, your whole world turned upside down. You were sorted into Ravenclaw, which felt very fitting, and were assigned a dormmate, Padme Patil. The two of you clicked immediately and became instant friends. After a few months of hanging out with the Patil sisters, you were introduced to three Gryffindor students in your year; Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter. Instantly, you felt some sort of a connection pulling you to them, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

You started hanging out with "The Golden Trio", as you affectionately called them, all the time, and the four of you eventually became a quartet. You had grown especially close with Harry, and the two of you did almost everything together. Well, everything except study.

After one particular study date with Hermione, you were thrilled to learn that she shared the same love for muggle music as you did. The two of you rambled on and on about your favorites, uncharacteristically losing track of your studies.

"The song Rises the Moon reminds me a lot of you!" You mindlessly exclaimed, watching as Hermione's eyes lit up.

The rest was history. You were known to associate songs with the people around you, and you had no shame in telling them. You had given Hermione, Ron, and the Patil sisters a countless number of songs over the years. In fact, you had given them so many, that a few had made playlists to keep track of all of them. Ron was the most hesitant to accept the recommendations, but Hermione told you she had caught him singing along to them in the common room on multiple occasions.

Every once in a while, you would even see another student studying in the library, maybe one you had only said 'Hello' to in passing, and a song would just scream out to you so loudly that you had to leave them a note about it as you left.

It was like your own personal love language, and you loved being able to make people smile, even if they never listened to the song.

The one person close to you whom you had never given a song to, was the infamous Harry Potter, and it was painfully hard for him to ignore. After almost seven years of being best friends, you would think he would have been worthy of at least one song, right?

He watched as you expertly conjured up the Draught of Peace potion the class was supposed to be working on, smacking Ron's hand away when he goes to touch it. Watching you was the only thing that made this class somewhat bearable.

He can't get it out of his head... the fact that you've never given him a song. He's been thinking about it non-stop since you gave that Hufflepuff boy a song in the dining hall a few days ago.

It wasn't news to him that he had been in love with you since 5th year, probably longer than that before he had even realized, but he would sooner die than admit it out loud.

You were the most important person in the world to him, but he was almost positive you didn't feel the same way. He would never be able to forgive himself if he ruined your friendship. So, he just kept his big mouth shut and pretended like there was nothing there.

He thought he was really good at faking it too. He wasn't.

Anyone with eyes could see the way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way his smile looked ten times brighter when you were around. It was blatantly obvious he had it bad for you.

What wasn't as obvious was that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you. You may have been much better at hiding it, but anyone close to you could see it clear as day. I mean, it was silly really. The way you were both so stupidly in love and too scared to see it.

Harry snapped to attention as Professor Snape called on him, spitting out to 'straighten his spine and get back to work'. He grumbled something under his breath before following instructions. When he looked back at you, he found your eyes already on him, giggling at the scene he had caused before returning to your schoolwork. He loved hearing your laugh.

As the class ended, Harry gathered his things into his bookbag, slinging it over his shoulder as he straightened his robes. Snape was the first to leave the classroom, followed by a small swarm of students who were anxious to get back to the common rooms for some much-needed free time. Harry looked over to where you and Ron had been sitting, watching you pull out a scrap of parchment with messy little scribbles on it, before sliding it over to the red head.

"I found a new song the other night, and it reminded me so much of you, I just had to write it down before I forgot the title." You smiled, watching Ron look over the writing, thanking you awkwardly as he shoved it into his pocket.

Harry suddenly felt his pockets get lighter.

"I'll be in the library with Hermione tonight. Wants to tutor me for Transfiguration." He said in an annoyed tone, though you knew he was secretly looking forward to it. "You wanna come? Could use all the help I can get."

Harry secretly hoped you would say no.

You packed up all your belongings, making sure not to forget any of your notes, "Yeah, sure! Just have to do a few things first, but I can stop by in a bit." You smiled, the way you always do, as you shoved folders into your bag.

"Alright," Ron nodded, "I'll see you." He said as you waved each other goodbye, Ron heading for the exit. "Oh hey, Harry." He threw out casually as he left the room, calling attention to the boy in the back of the otherwise empty classroom.

You quickly turned around, smiling brightly when you saw him still sitting awkwardly in his seat. "Oh hey, Harry!" You repeated, "You're still here?"

Harry regained common sense then, now realizing he had been staring at you for the past hour, he stood from his seat and walked over to you. "Yeah..." He trailed off dumbly, still in his own thoughts. He head got cloudy as your perfume surrounded him.

He had debated on bringing it up for the past few months, but was to scared of your response. Honestly at this point, he could barely focus on anything BUT asking you about it. He figured that at this point it would be better to just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid.

"Hey, uh... Could I ask you something?" His voice cracked.

"Yeah, of course!" You finally slung the bag over your shoulder, giving Harry your full attention. "Ask away."

Your voice sounded sickly sweet, and it somehow made him more nervous. "Alright... Well, uh, I was just wondering-" He felt far too vulnerable to look into your eyes, so instead he looked at your shoulder. He had to clear his throat, "I was wondering why you've never given me a song?" He slurred out, trying to act casual about it while his heart was beating at top speeds.

Your smile immediately dropped, and Harry's stomach fell into his shoes at the sight. Now it was your turn to avoid eye contact, looking down at your feet and chewing on your cheek as you debated a response.

Harry felt like he was about to pass out. His hands grew clammy, and he could hear his heart hammering in his ears. The only times he had ever seen you not smiling were when something really terribly tragic had happened, or when your friends were upset themselves. This had to be a bad sign, right?"

Meanwhile, a million thoughts swirled through your head. You had hoped he hadn't noticed the exclusion, but you knew it was only a matter of time before he brought it up. You felt sick to your stomach. How could you lie your way out of this one? You hated lying, especially to Harry, and you didn't want to hurt him. Could you really risk telling him the truth? What if he freaks out and goes running for the hills and all your years of friendship are ruined?

"You know what, it doesn't matter." Harry brushed off weakly, starting to back away from you, "I don't need to know! It's no big deal, just forget I even said anything-"

"Harry, wait-" you instinctually grabbed his hand, making him freeze. You let go to reach into your bag, Harry cautiously getting closer. His confusion increased when you pulled your phone out, rapidly typing on it to pull something up. When you finally found it, you took a deep breath. Once he saw what you were about to show him, there would be no turning back. Finally, you made yourself turn the phone around so Harry could see the screen.

It was a private playlist titled "For Harold", and the cover photo was a picture that Hermione took of the two of you after a snowball fight last Christmas break. Falling all over each other in laughter, completely covered in snow.

You handed the phone to him, limbs shaking too much to hold it steady. He looked below the title to see the timestamp read 318h 43m.

You felt like your stomach was being tied in knots.

"This is why I've never given you a song." You admitted quietly. His expression was hard to read. Brows furrowed and mouth slightly open in shock. "I just... There were too many that reminded me of you."

Harry still hadn't looked at you or said a word, and you started to feel like you'd bounce right off the floor with how much you were vibrating.

Then he stopped scrolling, staring at the title of one particular song much too long for your liking. Even worse, he pressed play. As soon as the song started, you shrunk down into the desk behind you.

Sunrise, with you on my chest No blinds in the place where I live Daybreak, open your eyes Cause this was only ever meant to be for one night We're changing our minds here Be yours, be mine, dear

You busied yourself by playing with your fingers, looking absolutely anywhere but at Harry.

So close with you on my lips Touch noses, feeling your breath Push your heart and pull away, yeah Be my summer in a winter day, love

You started to feel incredibly antsy, regretting ever showing him the playlist. "We really don't have to listen to the whole thing-"

I can't see one thing wrong Between the both of us Be mine, be mine, yeah Anytime, anytime

You squeezed your eyes shut to try and save yourself from some embarrassment, but when you opened them, you found Harry looking at you with the biggest smile you'd ever seen in your life. Your belly flipped.

You are bringing out a different kind of me There's no safety net that's underneath, I'm free Fallin' all in you Fell for men who weren't how they appear, yeah Trapped up on a tightrope now we're here, we're free Fallin' all in you

Harry was beaming, putting the phone down on the desk beside him. He slowly made his way closer to you, and no matter how badly you wanted to look away from him, you couldn't.

He was now so close to you that you could feel his breath fan across your lips, and the song faded in the background as your heart pounded. "Is this how you really feel? About me?" He asked as his cheeks turned pink, and you couldn't help but find the silly question endearing.

You nodded your head, deciding that your voice would give out if you tried to speak right now. The eye contact was almost unbearable, and you broke it with a quick glance down to his lips.

The second you did, his lips were immediately on yours, pressing hard into you. You gasped against his lips in shock. You felt like your whole body was on fire.

He pulled away too soon, mumbling a boyish "Sorry about that-", before you chased his lips and pulled them back down to yours, muffling the rest of his apology. This time it lasted.

Your lips felt like they were home against his, moving slow and sweet, like you had all the time in the world. You sighed happily into the kiss, pouring the years of pent-up feelings out for each other. His lips tasted like pumpkin, and butterbeer, and the sweet vanilla chapstick you gave him. It made you giggle a little against his lips.

You melted as he mindlessly cornered you against the desk, his hands gently holding your face like you were made of glass. You wrapped your arms around his neck to ground yourself. His lips curled up into a smile against yours, and you involuntarily matched the expression. It all felt so... right. Like all of the pieces were finally falling into place.

Unfortunately, you both need oxygen, so you were forced to pull away. He rested his forehead against yours, as you share the air between you. You pulled him impossibly closer, nudging his nose with yours, both knowing you felt just as lovesick for each other.

Then your phone dinged. Harry looked down at the message from Ron, reading "Hey, you still coming tonight?"

He picked it up to respond, "Can't, sorry!" before flipping it over carelessly, both of you giggling as he pulled you back for another kiss.

i had so much fun writing thissss ugh this was such a sweet prompt. tysm anon!

[deardoiloveyou]

˚Bittersweet ೀ⋆｡˚

GN!reader x Draco

Based on this request

Notes: Fluff, romance, no mentions of smut/violence, reader's house not mentioned, unestablished relationship, draco's perspective, I reccomend to listen to music while reading this (it helps the reading experience sm😵‍💫)

Draco was always seen as the cold Slytherin prince. Merciless, ruthless, insolent, were words that frequented conversations of Draco Malfoy. He didn't mind it obviously, he grew up with a bitter reputation and was conditioned to get used to it (especially at home). Yet when he saw you, you were like the sun, beaming as you spoke to your friend. Draco's heart gave a small flutter, he realized he had been staring at you far too long when you glanced at him. Your eyes locked with his. Draco was always confident, so when a flurry of emotions hit him like a tsunami, he had no idea what was happening. He couldn't even begin to comprehend the idea that you were his crush.

So, over the next few days Draco quietly observed you from afar, until one day,

"Hey! Draco, isn't it?"

Draco harshly blinked, making sure this wasn't another one of his daydreams, he straightened back up and his composure returned as well as his confidence, "Yes, I'm obviously Draco Malfoy."

Draco really didn't mean to sound as impudent as he did, bad habit he had to assume. He hated that he sounded so rude, and you were the polar opposite, a sweet voice that made him melt instantly.

Merlin's beard. They just kept getting prettier and prettier. Whether or not Draco was close or afar from you, he never failed to marvel in your beauty.

"Ah- sorry about that, well, I'm y/n/l/n! You're looking lovely by the way.."

You were very nervous around Draco, struggling to make coherent sentences yet your words flowed out with that same sweet voice, the same voice that made Draco melt. You began wondering if your feelings had finally seeped through and turned into blush, you had a tendency to blush, especially around Draco.

It seemed like you were blushing. Or was he just dazed and couldn't tell daydreams from reality? No. This was real. You were real. And god, did it shake him.

Draco finally spoke,

"Well, thank you. I best be going n-"

He needed to slither away from this situation before he started blurting out nonsense like a madman. Well, he was mad, for you.

You didn't want your one chance to slither away, so you slipped out a very quiet sentence,

"Wait! Er- Draco, would you.. like to study with me after class?"

Draco's cold expression wavered.

The silence was practically unbearable and you felt like you were about to scream out "please just answer already!"

"Sure, let's see if you can even hold a conversation with me."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You did so much more than just hold a conversation with Draco.

Draco was practically staring a hole through your head while he was seated in the quiet and expansive library, right next to you. You both did everything but study.

You made Draco smile in ways he never thought would be possible. You made him gleam, he was shining as brightly as you did in this moment.

Your cheeks were fully flushed with red by the fifth smirk Draco slipped out.

Draco really didn't mean to smile that much, but it just felt natural around you. Letting his genuine emotions flow out, not having to shut everyone and everything out.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, you were very funny. And excruciatingly charming. The ways you made him feel was practically indescribable, your smile made him smile, Draco was drawn to you in all different sorts of ways.

Even though this was his first time ever truly hanging out with you, he felt as though he'd known you for years.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Draco ended up spending so much time with you, that he started to forget his awful habits of bullying people for no apparent reason. Even when he did have a reason, he didn't even feel like telling them "Piss off" (and many other vulgar phrases Draco used) anymore.

He was just, becoming nicer?

How in merlin's beard would that ever hap-

Oh wait

Draco had started picking up your habits. Certain phrases you would say, he found himself saying in his chaotic mind, Draco found himself actually excusing himself and apologizing.

Draco couldnt tell if he was disgusted, dumbfounded, or delighted from this revelation. Probably all.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"hey, y/n"

"hmm?"

"I love you."

Your cheeks started burning (again) and you felt the world spin around you. Is this real life? Did Draco really just say "I love you"? You didn't know how to reply, but you really tried and choked out

"Draco..."

Before you could finish your nervous sentence, Draco interrupted

"I love you, I love it when you fidget with your hair when you're trying to remember something, I love it when you call out my name, i love it when you accidentally touch my hand and turn into a red mess, I love you, y/n."

God. Draco was going to make you turn into a red mess again.

"Draco, I love you, too."

A/N: Im so so sorry this took forever, I had a classic case of writers block and some other personal stuff😭 either way, I hope you enjoyed this one!

[mayiwritesomething]

Echoplex (One-Shot)

This is a oneshot from LIAUN Series (Masterlist here)

Wordcount: 2,3k

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Warnings: +18 MDNI, SMUT, teasing, sex (p in v, no protection), oral sex, cursing words, etc.

A/N: I wrote this a while ago while writing the chapters of love is an unfamiliar name (still 2 more chapters to go), i didn’t like it at first but anyway i decided to give it a chance haha. Considering the upcoming chapter 8 will be quite sad, let smooth things with a smut one 😜

Btw it fits somewhere between chapters 6 and 7 but can be read as a one shot on it’s own.

You jetted off to LA on Monday night. Since you and Pedro hadn't met before your departure, you kept exchanging messages. Back at home in your satin sleep dress, feeling gorgeous, you decided to send him a selfie lounging on your sofa with the caption: Movie night. Wish you were here 💔

Almost immediately, you heard the notification sound. It was Pedro. His response was, "Don't you tease me like that baby." Smiling and feeling a rush of heat, you replied with a picture in front of the mirror, the dress slipping from your arms, revealing the curves of your breasts, and the caption, "Or what? Gonna make me pay? 😇"

Forgetting that Pedro preferred calling over texting, you were surprised when he video-called as you returned to the sofa. He was eager to see you, and you wanted him right then and there.

"Oh my god... this looks perfect on you," he said mischievously, then added, "It makes me wonder so much about what's underneath it—why the fuck do you do this?"

"Well, I can show you if you want," you replied with a naughty smile.

"I do, baby... I really do want to see—fuck," his smile faded. "Baby, I have to answer this; it's my manager. I'll be right back."

"Okay," you muttered, frustration taking over as you sank back onto the sofa, scrolling through your Mubi main screen.

Ten minutes turned into twenty, but there was still no call from Pedro. You decided to watch Bowie's Labyrinth, a movie that always made you feel at home.

Nearly two hours later, Pedro finally called, his excitement palpable through the phone. "I've got a fantastic project opportunity," he exclaimed while you listened, intrigued and staring at the screen. "Sorry for the delay in getting back to you, baby. I had to sort a few things out."

"It's alright," you replied, feeling drowsy. "I understand we can't ignore a manager's call."

"Well, the good news is I can make it up to you in person," he teased, causing you to melt a little inside. "Are you free on Thursday?"

"I'll be working on some mixes in my studio, but you're welcome to stop by. I’ve seen you working much more than I’d like; now you can watch me do my thing," you said with a smile.

"I'd love to," he responded eagerly. His enthusiasm was endearing, and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip in anticipation; you couldn’t wait to see him in person.

On Thursday morning, anxiety enveloped you as you meticulously organized your home, ensuring everything was precisely in place. Seeking distraction, you headed to the studio on the other side of your yard to begin mixing a song you were producing. A few hours later, Pedro arrived, bringing your favorite coffee in a thermal cup along with a pack of peanut butter M&Ms.

Engrossed in conversation throughout your mixing session, you were captivated by Pedro's curiosity and respect for your work. You knew that for someone not directly involved in music production, watching someone tinker with synthesizers and create sounds could be quite boring.

"You're like some kind of witch with this whole hocus pocus thing," he marveled, seated in front of you.

Walking over to him, clad in a tank top and sweatpants, your inner music nerd emerged as you explained, "It's not that complicated; I just piece things together and tweak transitions. I'm not sure if it's good yet; I'll have Tim take a look tomorrow."

Pedro rose, drawing nearer to you, his hands gently tracing your face. "Sometimes, a simple 'thank you' is enough when receiving a compliment babe," he whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead, leaving you feeling a bit sheepish.

"I'm sorry, thank you," you murmured.

"No need to apologize, mami," he reassured, cupping your face to kiss you tenderly. Chuckling at the new nickname, you kissed him slowly, feeling the desire building as he lifted you onto the wooden part of the mixing table. Craving his touch, you pulled him closer, kissing his neck and sensing his longing for you as well. While trying to position you on the table and removing his shirt, his hands accidentally slipped, nudging some buttons.

"Careful, man! This is some expensive shit," you cautioned between kisses as your hands fumbled.

"Sorry," he responded, stepping back. "Don't be mad at me, but I'd love to fuck you right here on this table, like right now." You felt a surge of conflicting desires—a battle between primal urges and rational thoughts raging in your mind. Drawing nearer to kiss you again, you reciprocated, feeling his intensity.

"I want you to fuck me now," you confessed, beginning to remove your top.

"Leave it," he instructed, laying you back on the table, as your primal instincts won this round. "Let's not rush," he whispered in your ear, kissing your neck, as you moaned softly, feeling him between your legs, yearning to shed your clothes.

In a frenzy, you attempted to reach for his pants, but he firmly grasped your hands and gently guided them back to the table.

"Come on," you pleaded in exasperation between kisses as he began to trail kisses along your collarbone, slipping a hand under your top to caress the softness of your breast. Sitting before him, his warm touch in the air-conditioned room momentarily stole your breath, causing you to gasp silently.

"We have no neighbors now, baby. I want to hear you; I know I haven't seen everything yet," he murmured, locking eyes with you as his hand continued to tease beneath your top. Your attempts to remove it were thwarted once more. "I told you to leave it," he gently reminded you, guiding your hands back to the table, leaving you burning with frustration inside.

"Seriously? This isn't some master and servant kinda shit," you snapped, annoyed.

"You can have your revenge next time," he whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your skin as he gently removed his hand from under the top and adjusted it on you, the fabric showing how stimulated you were. "These are your words, not mine." He said it ironically.

Frustrated and conceding defeat, you seethed, "I fuckin hate you," while he chuckled, slipping a hand inside your pants and teasing you slowly. Involuntarily, you parted your legs, moaning softly and closing your eyes as he continued to explore.

"Are you sure of that?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on you. "Cause your body is telling me otherwise... Or are you wet like this all the time?" You could see how he was enjoying his little torture session.

"Stop—ah—stop fucking teasing me," you protested, feeling a mix of pleasure and anger.

"One word is missing, baby. Where are your manners?" His voice dripped with lust as his touch alternated between pleasure and torment.

"Please," you mumbled, trying to resist the urge to give in completely.

"I know you can do it a bit louder; I almost didn't catch that," he taunted, quickening his movements before abruptly stopping, holding your jaw with his other hand. You couldn’t think straight anymore.

"Please... PLEASE… PLEASE DON'T STOP," you cried out of sudden, your hand gripping his arm as you bit your lower lip, urging him to continue. "Please, Pedro—please, baby, don't stop," you pleaded, a mixture of desperation and desire in your voice.

“I didn’t see that coming this fast,” he said, still holding your jaw with one hand, then kissing you as you moaned, grinding on him. Surprised and aroused by your response, he resumed his ministrations, and as the pleasure intensified, you could only whisper, "It feels so good... it feels so good—please," your plea trailing off. "Just like that—please keep going like that, baby," you urged, locking eyes with him as you kept moaning adrift in the moment.

"It's so beautiful to see you swallowing this pride of yours and begging like that," he remarked, cupping your face tenderly. "I'd do anything for you—fuck, you’re so wet—I want to hear you scream for me," he whispered in your ear, his words causing you to melt in his arms.

"You could start by letting me do what I want," you protested, a hint of playfulness in your tone. “What about that?”

"Today there's no negotiation," he laughed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Really?" This time, you drew him closer and whispered, "Not even if I ask you nicely…”Taking his hand from inside your pants and gently sucking his fingers. “Please?”

Once again, he maintained control better than you. "Not today, baby," he reassured, planting kisses along your neck and holding your face tenderly. "Just lay down," he instructed, gently guiding you onto the table and slowly taking your pants off, though you felt a pang of worry as your knee knocked against something. As you settled into a comfortable position, a sudden intrusive thought crossed your mind: There goes a $10,000 synth.

Letting the tought aside, you longed for his touch as he focused on taking you to new heights, his attention focused between your tights. Gripping his hair, you let go of any concerns about the noise of your pleasure filling the room as you were fully immersed in the moment with him. It was just the two of you, lost in pleasure, clearly enjoying the experience.

As you finally screamed his name and struggled to maintain your balance, he crawled closer, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss so you could taste yourself. He was so caught up in his own pleasure in between your legs that he didn't even notice you slipping off your top, the last piece of clothing remaining.

Drawing you closer, he whispered, "You're so perfect," his words a mix of adoration and desire as he gazed upon your exposed body, then kissing it as you tried to hold him closer. You wanted to feel him inside.

"Tell me something I don't know," you chuckled playfully.

"Your humility brings tears to my eyes," he teased, planting kisses on your breasts. Your hands roamed freely over his body, eliciting goosebumps from feeling him as he teased you before giving you what you wanted. Returning to kiss you, the sensation of him finally being inside you was fenomenal. Suddenly, your hand accidentally hit a button, causing a burst of bass sound that startled both of you, leading to shared laughter.

"I'm pretty sure I broke something this time," you fretted, concerned about the unexpected noise.

"Wanna go down?" he suggested, worried, ensuring he kept you close. You nodded in agreement, indicating the armchair where he had been seated.

Taking a seat, he maintained eye contact with you, holding you close. The desire burning in his eyes was a sight to behold as you gently pushed him back and cupped his face, a smile playing on your lips. "I want you inside again," you whispered almost inaudibly, your words filled with longing.

"Babe, please," he murmured in response as you trailed your fingers over his lips, settling on top of him to ensure you could move and fully feel him.

The way he gripped your hips left you with no control over your own movements; he was once again in charge after the brief moment of stillness you both shared. Your hands clung tightly to his back as one of his hands guided your hair gently, not forcefully, exposing your neck as you ground against him, feeling every inch filling you. Even the fact that he was controlling your movements didn’t bother you this time.

You wouldn’t let him know this easily, but he knew what he was doing. You loved to feel how harder he would grip you each time you moaned. His laughter ringing out, asking, "Does it feel good?" at every curse word that escaped your lips. How lovely he kissed your body, muttering “es tan rica” while hitting you firm but slowly. The way he touched you. How In those moments of almost silent, heavy breathing, your eyes locked in a wordless understanding as you both discovered the perfect rhythm.

The pleasure building within brought you to tears as you reached your climax. Right after hearing his voice calling out your name as he held you close tightly in his own moment of release, which felt so warm inside of you, a mix of cries, laughter, and trembling filled the room. Struggling to kiss him back, you felt his heavy breathing and sensed his shaking body as he rested his head against your chest, muttering words you couldn't quite make out.

Seeing his smile, you returned it, both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath. He tenderly kissed your chin as you held him close, both of you sweaty despite the air conditioner running. Without a word, you simply gazed into each other's eyes for a while, sharing smiles and kisses.

"If we keep this up, we could compete in Iron Man," you remarked with a chuckle.

"Sure," he agreed, clearly out of breath.

"You should quit smoking, old man," you teased, laughing. He shot you a playful yet judgmental look in response. "Don't give me that look; I’m aware of my glass ceiling," you defended yourself, a playful glint in your eyes.

“You destroyed me,” he laughed while kissing your breast, his beard tickling you and causing you to chuckle.

“Want to take a shower?” You asked shyly.

“Yes, we made a mess.” He adjusted your hair and kissed you, pulling you as close as he could.

“Consider yourself lucky because I’ve never had sex here,” you laughed.

“I’ll help you tidy things up,” he said, trying to be useful, “and we can check if everything is working because if it’s not, I—” You sensed his anxiety.

“Well, it’s nothing I can’t afford,” you said, kissing him. He just gave you a surprised look. “All I want is to have a shower and another round, if you’re up to it,” you teased.

“I think I can handle another one,” he smiled back at you.

"So, what are we waiting for?”

I can't believe that life's so complex

When I just want to sit here and watch you undress

This is love, this is love

That I'm feeling