#i'm thinking of actually beating star road

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Hello, how are you? Can I ask for a college AU scenario, where Jason is a star student and Readee is the delinquent who always skips classes, (but always has average enough grades to pass) and they fall in love with Jason first?

Rivals with Benefits

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 2.2 K summary: The star student of your college isn't what everyone thinks he is. warnings: angst/comfort, injuries, no y/n used a/n: I'm good, thank you!💗 I imagined Jason similar to Spider-man (specifically Andrew Garfield!!!!!) but grumpier..... have fun! (@anitalenia - divider!)

The icy roads and sidewalks prevent you from walking too fast out of the campus, but you try. After promising your aunt that you‘ll actually attend to your classes today, you try your best to swallow down the guilt and just leave the brooding atmosphere the school gives you. Sighing out, you balance your footing better and focus on finding spots that aren‘t covered in ice. A loud thud escapes from around the corner. It‘s already dark enough in this morning, but it was clear that the shadow must‘ve been a person. Or at least a very large animal, you aren‘t too sure with your lack of sleep from refusing to sleep all night.

Glancing behind your shoulder to make sure if anyone else noticed that, you decide to check it out.

Your breaths fog up in front of you, making you fit your scarf tighter around your neck. With quiet and slow steps, the darker corner with the containers comes clearer into your view. There‘s a light sound of someone breathing heavily, making you pause in your steps. Contemplating, you stare at the ground covered in snow. There‘s droplets of blood.

Typical for Gotham, but still alarming enough for a harmless citizen like you. The uneasy feeling only rises and rises in your gut, but still, you won‘t back down. Even if it‘s just a wounded animal, you‘ll have a good excuse to skip the first period of your class. Nearing closer, the shadows around you grow bigger, swallowing you whole once you step fully into the tight alleyway.

The pants grow softer and more even, slowly settling to a more normal pace. It‘s silent, the only sound being the faint conversations of other students who file into the other building. You clear your throat, finally attempting to speak up.

»Is anyone here?«

A stupid question, really. Of course there‘s someone, clearly hurt or out of breath for some reason. Even if it was an animal, it would still make no sense that you started to speak, considering it wouldn‘t answer back.

»Is someone hurt?«

»Can you stop talking?«

A much deeper word cuts through, sounding irritated. You step back, not having expected to actually get a response. Waiting a beat of silence, you step closer to where you think the person is located at. A lower grunt escapes from the same spot again, making you hesitate once more.

»Are you hurt?« You genuinely try to be helpful and see if there‘s something you could do, already feeling bad enough that you got on his nerves without meaning to.

A low grunt of agreement comes through and you finally manage to figure out a sillhoutte of someone being slumped down on the cold ground. Still, you can‘t exactly figure out who it is, yet.

You decide to crouch down in front of him, still having some distance between the two of you.

The person doesn‘t move much, just controlling their breathing before sitting up straighter and slumping forward more.

»Hey, what happened?«

You try again, only receiving silence in return. But eventually, he speaks up and you recognise his voice.

»You should go to class, you know?«

Finally, now that he spoke more than four words, you get who he is. The infamous star student of your college. A very strange and concerning coincidence.

»Mind explaning why you‘re bleeding out before class?« Your more aggrivated voice brings him a small whince, keeping his arm slung around his torso under the jacket.

»You know, you should really stop skipping your classes. The teachers are talking about you.«

A distraction. So much is clear, and he isn‘t exactly good at it too. Still, you play along this time and sigh out.

»I know. At least I have enough knowledge in the medical field, so if you need a hand, I could always— «

»Not a chance.«

He snaps back, interrupting your attempt of patching him up. Luckily for him, you respect boundaries even though you are dying to know who or what hurt him. With a small groan, the star student gets off the ground while holding onto the brick wall behind him. You follow, also standing up again.

Still feeling unsure, you try to get a better look at what his wound looks like.

»And, what are you gonna do now?«

With a small huff, Jason finally meets your eyes, hair falling over his forehead from his hood being pulled over his head.

»Class.«

You pause, taking him in again before you. »You are hurt.«

»So what? Just leave it be.«

He sounds so sure of himself, confident that his injury won‘t affect him during class, or won‘t bleed out during one of the lectures.

Still, you don‘t dare to actually say something against him and feel like it‘ll just get worse from then on.

The short meeting ended with him actually going to class, playing off the light limp while keeping an arm at his side for some support. Thinking about the interaction, you mind your own business, eventually returing for lunch into the cantine.

Getting some snack to eat, your eyes settle onto the taller, brooding figure from before. Now with a smaller bandage at his cheekbone, hood still up as you remember. With your spiked curiousity and load of concern, you approach him before he can get out of the cantine again. Jason notices your sudden presence at his side, he speaks up first.

»Skipping classes but not lunch time, I see?«

You ignore his teasing comment, instead confronting him again.

»Who hurt you back there?«

A short scoff leaves him, shaking his head lightly.

»Nothing happened back there, okay?« Another lie, another distraction and you know it. The cold breeze blows past you after stepping outside, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself.

»Clearly, something happened. And if you think I‘ll tell someone, then you are wrong… I may be stupid, but not that idiotic.«

Finally, Jason pauses in his steps to glance down at you, his gaze contemplative.

That sums up the way you ended up, hunched up together on your bedroom floor, currently patching up the new cuts and bruises Jason got on the same night. He‘s a frequent visitor now, always coming in through your window at obscure hours, asking for a nice patch up from you.

This time, it‘s less serious, being both glad and relieved that no cuts are as deep that they need stitches. Jason watches your hands silently as you work on him.

»How do you keep up with me?«

The question took you by surprise, making your movements pause briefly.

»It‘s not difficult.« You answer back simply, glancing up to check on him.

»Yeah, but… I don‘t give anything in return.«

Again, you have to pause, but you use that moment to fish out another bandaid out of your small medkit and work on the next cut at his shoulder.

»You don‘t have to.« The quiet response makes his expression soften, his eyes studying your focused expression as you carefully patch up the larger wounds at his left shoulder.

A comfortable silence spreads out in the room, finishing up on the brief medical treatment he refuses to admit he enjoys.

»I‘m guessing you‘ll skip the first two periods again tomorrow? Considering it‘s… four in the morning?«

His teasing nature comes back, the corners of his lips tugging up faintly.

»Seriously, what sane person goes to class with two hours of sleep?« You huff out in response and sit back after pushing the medkit aside, under your bed.

»Well… I was just asking. Not that you‘ll miss anything anyway.«

Truth be told, Jason has a positive effect on you. You actually try not to skip as many classes as you did before, mostly coming to college just to see him. It may seem weird, but you tell yourself that it‘s because you finally made a real friend in years. Your aunt is happy that you are starting to change for the better anyway, so it‘s also making you feel lighter these past few weeks.

Still, he won‘t let you copy his work or answers in tests. All because he thinks it‘s too funny to see you struggle and pout at him in frustration. It only serves your luck that you have most classes together, having found out that both of your favourite subjects are literature and english.

You never thought he‘d be into books, or let alone literature, but it makes sense after having had one or two conversations with him.

He also came clean to you about his secret identitiy, having roughly explained what he does and why. You are still struggling with the part of grasping what he does to get injured so frequently, but you stopped questioning it at some point.

»Where you even there on the first day? How can you not get what sinus means? We learned that before college.«

Stuff likes this happens rather frequently, amazing him with your lack of knowledge in maths. Yes, you skipped every second – if not every lesson back in Highschool and now in College too. But it‘s not like he can blame you when it does nothing but bore you to no end.

At least he is willing enough to give you some half-hearted turtoring lessons in the library to help you catch up on your work. It would help even more if he wouldn‘t get your heart racing every time he leans in a little closer to hear you better, or look over your work.

Often times than not, he pretends to not know you in the hallways and look around confused when you try to get his attention during lunch breaks. The joke is getting old, but it still never fails to crack a small smile from you. And that‘s all Jason wants to see anyway.

But sometimes, when he feels more confident and playful, he packs out all his flirtatious moves on you randomly, then expects you to behave normally afterwards. Boxing you up against your locker, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, winking and grinning at you after blabbering on about Jane Austen is his favourite part.

Of course, he notices the reddening of your ears and loss of eye contact whenever he teases and flirts, and it only fuels his urge to go further without crossing the line.

But there are also days where he prefers to stay quiet and just go about his day without getting noticed. And the same goes for you; you prefer to stay quiet, still skipping some classes throughout the week.

One night, Jason stumbles in through your window rather messily, almost buming against your desk before he slumps on the edge of your bed, breaths ragged and trembling. Asking what happened won‘t do anything, so you learned from these past few months.

Getting on with it, you carefully remove his brown leather jacket and asses the new wounds. Seems like most of the impact landed on his shoulder, his chest littered with purple and blue bruises. There‘s a faint red mark around his neck, looking like he was getting choked somewhere during the fight.

Focusing on patching him up, you start to notice more signs of his exhaustion. The trembling form, making him look even more hurt than he already is, the bags under his eyes and thin layer of sweat lingering across his skin. The ragged breaths, pale skin; it‘s clear now.

Quickly securing the largest cut at his shoulder, you scoot closer and hug him in a way that won‘t hurt him. His breathing pauses before he relaxes into your embrace and exhales heavily. You remain like this, drawing little circles against his shoulder blade with your thumb.

After a few silent moments, you notice the trembling has subsided, but now your shirt is getting wet from his tears. You need a moment to catch up on that, but when you do, it‘s when he fists up your shirt tightly, desperately needing to hold on to something. His cries are getting worse, sobs escaping his throat while he tries to speak up at the same time, either trying to apologise or explain himself to you. Even when you can‘t understand him like this, you gently shush him and rub his back as gently as you can.

Eventually, after several longer moments, he manages to calm down and remains quiet this time. He lets you patch him up, letting you take care of him with more gentleness than ever before and lays down together next to you. His heartbeat settles into a much calmer and steady one once he falls asleep, gripping onto your hand as he does.

You didn‘t get an explanation, but you don‘t need one, wanting to make sure he is safe and feels safe as well.

That‘s one thing Jason also admires about you. Having the strong will to take care of the important things in your life, and not get caught up in stuff that like school work. It may sound stupid or even illogical, but he still finds a way to be fascinated by your acts.

After all, this is the first time someone managed to eat trough his heart and stay there like a strong vessel, warming up another place he didn‘t think existed ever before. He tries to show you his appreciation even in his sleep, tightly holding you against his chest, breathing against your hair peacefully.

a/n: I like to imagine that they get together after this :3

←MASTERLIST

[redroomreflections]

How Not To Become A Tiktok Star

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Reader has a tiktok account and she decides to do the "I think you're bad in bed" prank on Natasha.

note: I really don't know what this is. I saw it on tiktok and decided to write it. if i cringed you also have to experience it.

this can be any universe really.

w/c: 1k

You and Natasha are about to head out for a drive, and you had a fun idea to capture a bit of the day for your TikTok account. You'd set up the camera before she slid into the driver's seat. You placed the phone on the dashboard, using a small, inconspicuous car mount that you’ve cleverly tucked away. The mount is just the right height to capture both of you without being too obvious. You adjust the angle, making sure the camera is aimed perfectly to catch the both of you.

"Are you recording us?"

You nod silently. "Just for memories." You inform her. You sit back into the passenger's seat and watch the scenery go by.

"So…I was thinking of going to Target later and getting us a few things for the house," Natasha tried. "I think I can get in and out without being recognized."

"Sounds good." You nodded. "If we need more detergent, I'll add that to the list."

"Ok, and maybe some new sheets. Those are getting pretty old."

"They are pretty old, aren't they?" You continue. The car ride is silent for the next few minutes and you glance at the camera to make sure it's still recording.

"You're awfully quiet today," Natasha mentions. She's so used to you talking up a storm whenever you get the chance.

"I'm just tired." You shrug. "It's been a long week."

"I feel that." Natasha nods. "Anything on your mind?"

You pause dramatically, picking at your nails before you look at her. "I need to tell you something and I kind of don't know how to say it." Your heart beats in your chest. How could you explain this? It's a prank so of course she will be clueless but you are unsure of how to go about it.

"You can tell me anything," Natasha said.

"Ok, so the truth is," You begin. "Lately, I've been feeling like you've gotten a little lazier in bed." You say.

Natasha looks over at you with a blank expression. "What?"

"Like you've been kind of boring in the bedroom." You repeat.

Natasha shakes her head in confusion. "What do you mean by that? Boring?"

"Well, last night, for example. It was your turn to go down on me and it wasn't really your best work."

"Really?" Natasha asks, surprised. "You didn't seem to have a problem."

"I was too embarrassed to tell you."

Natasha's face falls. "Wow. I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's been like that for a while and I didn't want to hurt your feelings," You reach across the console to grab her free hand. "I just want us to have fun together."

"That's what I want too." Natasha agreed.

"We used to have fun."

"Yeah." Natasha agrees.

"So much fun." You nod. "I just think maybe you can practice a bit more? Try some new techniques or something."

"Oh...well," Natasha's face turns a bit pink and she glances between the road and you. "New techniques? Where do you suggest i practice this?"

"I don't know." You shrug, keeping the smirk off your face. "Maybe start with me?"

Natasha stares straight ahead. "Oh, well, I can try. But I'm not really sure where to start. Can you give me a specific?"

"Hmm, yeah. I'll just go into more detail." You decide.

"Go ahead."

"I guess when you have sex with a woman, you just have to remember the pearl is the center of the universe," You censor yourself for Tiktok of course. "I don't know if you've forgotten where it is or..."

"No, no," Natasha shook her head. "I'm very familiar with where it is. Yours especially."

"Ok, because I'm not sure if you're aware, but when you go down on me, you don't pay enough attention to it," You tell her. "It's almost like you don't like the taste."

Natasha makes a face. "What? That's ridiculous. I love your taste."

"But you're not doing enough."

"Ok."

"You need to be better. Not even just licking around my pearl, but actually sucking it. Really, just doing all that. All the things that are important."

"You know, I'm very confused about where this is coming from," Natasha turned on her indicator to turn into the parking lot. "Like I said last night you were very happy with my performance. Unless you were faking it."

"Of course, I wasn't faking it," You shake your head. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while but I didn't know how. But it's not only that, there are other things too."

"What other things?" Natasha asked.

"I feel like you're not very experimental. Like, I want to have sex in more than just the bed." You say.

Natasha nods. "I guess Tony's lab wasn't experimental enough."

"Babe," You gasp. You turn to the camera and sigh. "I'm going to have to edit that out."

Natasha parks the car. "Why are you saying all this? Is something going on? Are you recording still?"

"Yes, I'm still recording," You admit. "This is for my Tiktok. It's a joke."

"A joke? I knew it had to be," Natasha shakes her head. "Are you going to upload that?"

"Probably."

"Oh, wow." Natasha finally gets a good look at you. "I know this wasn't one hundred percent the truth. You're always so exhausted after we finish. Also, the things you say there's no way you're not getting what you want."

"What does that mean?" You play dumb.

"Oh, baby, fuck me," Natasha pitches her voice higher. "Don't stop. Don't stop." She fake moans and pretends to be you in the moments of passion and pleasure.

"Oh, shut up." You playfully swat her. "I don't sound like that."

"Yes, you do," Natasha chuckles. "Some days I can barely get you to go multiple rounds. You practically fall asleep with me still inside of you."

"Shut up!" You laugh.

Natasha shakes her head at the absurdity of it all. "I can't believe you got me so good. I really thought we were having problems."

"You're cocky," You scoff.

"And you're the queen of the universe, baby." Natasha grins, leaning over to kiss you. "Let's get this over with so we can get home and you can show me how much I don't suck in bed."

"I can't upload this to Tiktok," You sigh.

"Well put it with the other videos that we can't upload."

"Good idea," You reached for the camera and shut it off. So much for being a tiktok star.

[dollfacefantasy]

Meant to be Broken ♡

pairing: corrupt cop!naoya zenin x fem!reader

summary: on your way home from work, you accidentally hit naoya zenin with your car. you believe you're in huge trouble when you find out he's a police officer. luckily (or unluckily) for you, he has a few ways you can make it up to him in mind.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (m receiving), degradation, car sex, misogyny (it's naoya lol)

word count: 3k

a/n + tags: comm for the bestie @nexysworld @gor3-hound picture of naoya by @/sso_s__ on twt

Your fingers thrum against the steering wheel as your car glides along the road. You match the beat of the music playing in the background. It's a good distraction for you. It was a nice enough day out, but your mind wasn't as sunny and serene.

You'd had a shitty day at work. You woke up late and got shit from your boss for it. Your computer wouldn't log in, so you had to work at the outdated one towards the back of the office under a drafty vent. On top of that, you had a killer headache. You really just wanted to get home.

The sun was setting over the horizon in the distance, the sky a pretty hue of pink. You take it in while making the turn into your neighborhood. Only a few hundred yards till you could pull into your garage and walk into the comfort of your home. You just have to get down one more street.

You're making the final turn on your route. You can nearly feel the soft fabric of your sweatpants and oversized t-shirt when there's a blur in front of your windshield and a sound thud against the hood of your car. You slam on the brakes as fast as humanly possible, jerking yourself hard against the seat. Whipping the car into park, you sit there for a moment. There was no fucking way you just hit someone. If asked, you would swear on everything that no one had been crossing.

After a couple moments, you unbuckle your seatbelt and get out. Your movements are a little slow, simply for the fact that you're still questioning if this is some kind of joke.

You round the front of your car and gasp at the sight before you. You'd actually hit someone. A man lies crumpled up near the bumper, writhing in pain.

"Oh- Oh my God. Are you ok?" you ask him. You rush over and crouch behind him.

He turns to face you, and your heart drops. His face is stained with scarlet, blood oozing from a cut on his forehead. He's got a nasty scowl aimed at you too.

"What do you think?" he snaps. You're pretty sure you hear him grumble something about how of course it was a woman that hit him, but you can't be sure. Your pulse is pounding in your ears too loud to focus on mumbling.

"Jesus, I'm so so sorry," you say.

"Instead of wasting your time with apologies, you could try helping me up," he says.

"You're right. My bad. Here," you say, offering your hand. He takes it but doesn't stop glowering at you for a second.

You help him to his feet again. Once he's stable, he lets go of your palm and wipes it on his pants. A bit rude, but you supposed you deserved it.

"Are you hurt? Could I take you to a hospital or anything?" you ask. 

You try to sound as sweet as possible. He could be as pissy as he wanted, you were just praying to any higher power you could think of that he wouldn't sue you.

He simply rolls his eyes at your question. Your cheeks burn, and you awkwardly avert your eyes. You notice he'd dropped his wallet on the asphalt, so you reach down to retrieve it for him. Once you pick it up, your blood runs cold. Inside the wallet is a shiny silver star. A police badge.

Panic runs through you. The last thing you needed was a ticket, let alone a criminal charge. Your eyes dart up to him. He's wearing the smuggest grin you'd ever seen.

"Officer. Sir, I am so so sorry. Again, please let me know if there's anything I can do to help you. It was my stupid mistake. I swear, I'm normally a super safe driver," you say.

He chuckles and shakes his head. "It's cute how you little girls try to get out of trouble once you see how helpless you really are," he taunts.

You're speechless. If he was going to be like this, you were truly fucked.

"Don't tell me that's all you have for an apology. I've heard better from a mute," he says.

"I really didn't mean to hit you. Please, I'm just having a really bad day," you start timidly, but he cuts you off.

"Stand up. You look like a bitch begging for scraps down on your knees like that," he says, flicking two fingers to beckon you up.

You rise quickly at the command. You hated obeying a total asshole like him, but he held so much in his hands right now. There was nothing to do but follow along.

"There we go," he says and brings his hand to your face. It runs down your jawline to your chin. He tilts your face around, getting a look at you from all angles. "You're cute. No wonder you hit me."

Confusion flickers through your eyes. "What's that mean?" you ask as non-confrontational as you can manage.

"Well you know what they say: a pretty face or a brain, women don't get both," he mocks.

Now it's your turn to scowl. You can't even help it. The expression shows itself before you have the chance to hide it. Your previous mindset shatters in a matter of seconds.

"I didn't hit you cause I'm a woman. I hit you cause you darted into the street," you say.

His eyes brows raise with amusement, and the urge to bicker with him dwindles inside you.

"Really?" he asks, "Are you high then? Drunk maybe? Those are the only other reasons why you'd make such an egregious error."

Internally your blood pressure rises, but externally you keep it cool. "I promise it's neither. It was an accident. I just didn't see you," you explain.

"An accident? I don't know if I believe that," he tuts, "Before you said mistake. That could imply some intention."

"Accident and mistake mean the same thing," you dispute with a little desperation.

"I don't know... changing your story, cause to suspect intoxication, arguing with an officer. Things aren't looking good for you. I have reason to write you up at the very least," he chides.

"Please don't," you practically beg, "I'm sorry for arguing, but I swear on everything that I'm not on anything and it was absolutely not my intention to hit you with my car. Please there has to be something I can do."

That grin from earlier spreads across his face again. "I suppose there's a few things you could do. Don't think we should talk about them in the middle of the street though."

"Oh um, did you want me to pull my car to the side of the road?" you ask.

"Sounds like a good start, don't you think?" he asks.

You nod and quickly turn around to hop back in the car. Alone in the interior, you let out a shaky breath. You had a feeling as to what was coming. It wasn't ideal, but you guessed it was better than hundreds of dollars for a ticket or thousands on bail. Maybe he didn't get laid often with an attitude like that, and you could make him cum quick.

You drive a little way down the street before putting the car in park again. It crossed your mind to speed off and drive away, but you'd bet your life he had your license plate by now. You let out a final deep sigh before the backdoor opens, and he slides into the car.

"Get in the back with me," he says.

You obey again, opening your door and transferring to the rear seats of your vehicle. You look over at him with a mix of apprehension and annoyance. It entertains him all the more.

"You look like you know what I want," he says.

"I have a pretty good guess," you say, your voice quiet compared to his.

He leans in closer to you, nuzzling the side of your head and taking in your scent.

"You get yourself in this kind of situation often?" he asks before nipping at your earlobe sharply.

You wince and pull away slightly. His hand comes up and keeps your head close before you can move too far away though.

"No," you scoff.

"Good," he chuckles.

Despite his pretty face, everything about this moment is absolutely vile. He teases your ear and down your neck with a mixture of his lips and teeth. Simultaneously, his hands slide up your body to fondle your breasts. He gropes the mounds haphazardly, digging his fingers into them a bit too hard.

"You got nice tits, I'll give you that. Think I should've frisked you first," he whispers, "Maybe taken you back to the station for a strip search. Though then some of the other guys would've wanted a turn, and I don't like sharing my toys."

You scowl and look in the other direction. He was repulsive, but at the same time, some heat was beginning to pool in your belly from the combined touches of his mouth and hands. Though just as you're coming to enjoy the sensations, he takes them away. He pulls back from you, his hand going to the hardening bulge in his pants instead.

"I wanna try out that cute mouth first. I know there's a better use for it than talking," he says.

He's quick to undo his fly and whip his cock out. He gives it a few lazy strokes. It's pretty like everything else on him, the head already starting to glisten with pearly white precum.

He smirks at you taking in the sight. "What're you waiting for? I don't have all night."

Reluctantly, you get on your knees on the bench and lean forward. Your fingers wrap around the lower half while your mouth engulfs the top portion. The salty liquid spreads over your tongue, and your eyes flutter shut.

You hear him grunt from above you. One of his hands comes to rest on the back of your head and pushes you down a little more. You suck him deeper, laving your tongue against the underside of his cock.

"There you go. Take it," he moans quietly.

You tune him out and begin to bob your head. Soft slurping noises come from your mouth. Your hand lazily strokes the base. He was long enough to give you a little challenge but not thick enough to present a real struggle. You pick up a little speed, still wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.

He hums with satisfaction and relaxes against the smooth leather seats. His head tilts back and a low, whiny purr leaves his lips. You give his dick a gentle squeeze and suckle on the tip, letting some of your drool dribble down to his balls.

His hips buck up at the onslaught of sensations, and you gag a little. The noise isn't too loud, but he hears it. His eyes glow with desire at the thought of making you do it again.

His hands find their place on either side of your head. He acts as if he's guiding you at first, but he doesn't have the patience to truly ease you into having your face fucked. Before you can really register it, his hips start to thrust upward. His tip rams against the back of your throat, his shaft sliding between your lips over and over.

You give him what he wants and gag again. Spit seeps from between your lips onto his length. Your eyes water as he forces his cock as deep as physically possible.

"Think your throat was made for this. With lips like yours, it has to be," he mutters.

He keeps going, using your mouth as his fleshlight for the next minute or so. Your nose is nestled against his pelvis before he finally yanks your head off and sits you up again.

You're a bit dizzy when you're upright again. It's a relief to get a full breath of oxygen without the obstruction of him in your throat. He laughs quietly at the dazed look on your face, your teary eyes, and your saliva-coated lips.

"You liked that, hm? Think you needed it more than I did," he mocks.

You don't give him any indication either way. You're occupied with your vision coming back into complete focus.

"Now, face down ass up for me," he commands.

You go to move, but then pause and stare at him.

"In the car?" you ask uncertainly.

"Yes, in the car," he says, "It's cute how you ask that as if you have a choice."

"But- but why? I could make you cum if you lemme use my mouth a little more," you offer, but he shoots you down.

"I don't want your mouth. I pulled you off for a reason. I want a taste of that pussy before I cum. If you know how to give a blowjob like that, you must have something worthwhile between your legs," he says.

It's hard to fight off the heat creeping to your cheeks after hearing that. But you still don't move just yet.

"But someone could see... that's more obvious," you try to reason.

"Yeah? And what's anyone gonna do about it besides live with the knowledge that you're a slut?" he asks.

Just like that, you're really reminded of what this situation is. You flip over and pull down the clothing on your lower half to expose your cunt to him.

A whistle comes from behind you. You feel his hand come up to cup one of your ass cheeks. He drags his thumb up and down your folds, feeling the small amount of arousal that had collected there from giving him a blowjob. He dips the digit inside for a moment before pulling it out again. He just wanted to hear the sweet little noise you'd make. He wasn't disappointed by the whine he received.

"Are you on the pill?" he asks.

"Mhm," you hum.

"Clean?"

"Yes," you scoff.

Your attitude amuses him. It doesn't discourage him from rising to his knees behind you in the slightest. He balances himself on the seats before nudging his tip at your entrance and sliding in. The both of you moan and groan at the feeling.

Your nails claw at the seams of your seats as he sinks all the way in. He grabs your hips and makes sure you can't squirm away. He goes in until he bottoms out, completely wrapped in the warm wetness of your tight heat.

He doesn't give you time to adjust before he begins thrusting. He starts rocking right away, chasing his own pleasure like it's running from him. Your cheek rubs against the leather as he bumps you back and forth. You can tell the car is shaking from his movements, you just hope it's not too obvious to anyone who passes by. Though it wouldn't really matter. Even if they didn't see the car's motion, they'd surely spot the silhouette of the man in the backseat.

"Fuck," he whines, "You're tight. Think this might feel better than that mouth of yours."

You simply mewl in response. His cock was sliding deep, reaching all the little spots that didn't get as much attention as they needed. Your breathing turns to panting which only makes Naoya thrust harder.

"There you go, puppy. I knew you'd like it. This is what you're good for," he says as he continues pistoning himself inside you.

You try to hold in your shameful moan, but it slips out anyways. Your toes curl and your eyes flutter shut, rolling back behind the lids. From above, Naoya continues speaking. You're pretty sure he gets off to the sound of his own voice.

"I could've fucked you right in the middle of the street and made you thank me for it," he grunts, "You would've done it too, you little whore. Knew from the moment I saw you that you'd let me do anything I wanted."

You whimper because in a way, that was partially true. You gasp as you start to get closer. He smacks your ass hard while he continues rutting into you.

"Dumb slut. Not so concerned with people seeing now that you're about to cum, huh?" he taunts.

Shaking your head in agreement, you press your cheek further against the seat. You'd have preferred if you could at least maintain the story that he didn't make you cum, but it didn't seem like that was going to be the case. And honestly at this point, you felt too good to care.

He knows that he's getting close too. He can feel how his dick is pulsing with the need to empty his balls, fuck you full of his load.

He goes faster, gripping your hips strong enough to bruise. He's going so fast that it's like a blur. That's what pushes you over the edge. You clamp up on his cock which in turn causes ecstasy to spike through him and drag him to the finish line.

The two of you cum in tandem, you gushing on his cock and him stuffing you with his release. Even with your disdain for him, being fucked full of cum gives you the warm feeling of satisfaction. By the time he's finished, you're practically a puddle in your backseat.

He pulls out quickly, not caring to let you adjust to the emptiness as you would have preferred. He doesn't rub your back after or tell you that you did good. Doesn't let you curl up to his side or stroke your head. He simply pulls his pants up again and wipes the sweat from his brow.

He glances at your fucked out state. It brings him nearly as much satisfaction as his actual orgasm had, seeing how totally ruined you were.

Patting your ass, he scoots to the door and steps out.

"Have a good night, miss. Make sure you watch out for any pedestrians on your way home," he says, imitating a professional tone.

And with that, he’s gone, leaving you to scrape yourself back together.

[safination]

Partners in Death…And Life

Part 4: The Radio Stars’ Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes

|Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted| Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Parings: Alastor x wife! Reader. Tags: fem!reader established relationships, hopefully not but just in case ooc!Alastor (I'm trying my best, guys) Reader is in hell for a reason, Warnings: Very brief dissection of the human body. Kidneys Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me. I am sorry :D. These past *checks notes* three weeks (yikes) have been really busy for me. But I’m finally posting?

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The light from the bus stop illuminates Alastor’s block handwriting. Smiles are drawn on the edges of note with different colored ballpoint pens. Dear God, it was like looking at kindergarten art, but you appreciate it nonetheless. Alastor’s instructions tell you that his house is a ten-minute walk from the bus stop.

You flip the note, studying the map Alastor drew.

A bird caws from the patches of trees across the road. There’s no living soul out here besides your own for miles.

You tighten your grip on the straps of your bag, and walk until you find yourself standing before a wooden gate. The hatch unlocks easily, and you hike up the path until you’re stepping on to the porch.

Alastor’s house isn’t much—well, it’s much more than the tiny apartment in the city that you call home, but besides that, he has a very normal looking house. You don’t know why you expect anything different. The flowers on his windowsill brighten the place, and the rocking chairs by the edge makes it homier.

You smoothen your hair, fiddling with the note. A deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another—

Fuck it. You knock on the door.

A beat passes, and then another beat passes, and then another. Oh God, did he not hear your knock? Should you knock again? Your father always said that it was rude to knock twice, but you’re sure the knock should have been heard. Alastor was probably at the back of the house. You’re just going to knock again.

Alastor swings the door open, smiling at you. “You are right on time!”

Soft music plays behind him. The lights inside make his living-room look warm. “You said to be here by eight  . . .  so  . . .  Here I am!” you say with a light laugh. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “I’m very fond of being punctual.” Okay . . . hmmm . . . why did you say that?

You smoothen your hair, and fiddle with the straps of your bag.

 “I admire punctuality.” Alastor smiles at you.

You smile back.

He opens the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

‘Yes.’

‘Right.’

‘Of course I would!’

All proper responses to his question. It’s a shame you don’t say them. You reach into your bag instead, and shove a paper bag into his arms. “It’s raw.”

Alastor lifts the paper bag, studying it with careful eyes until they flicker to the wet patches at the bottom. “ . . . I’m almost afraid to ask who it came from.”

You step through the door, and take off your coat. “My father, actually.”

Alastor tilts his head. “This is your father—am I supposed to cook him or something?”

“It’s venison!” you say, and run your hand through your hair. “Dad went hunting last week, and he gave me a bunch of meat and well . . . well, I thought you'd appreciate it more than I do. There’s too much for me to eat alone. And it’s always polite to give a gift when you’re visiting a home.”

Alastor secures your gift around his arms, and takes your coat. He’s smiling. You think he’s being genuine—you can’t really tell. “Thank you.”

He hangs your coat on the rack, and ushers you deeper inside his home. Alastor disappears into what you think is his kitchen, but you stay planted in his living-room floor. His house is nice for someone who lives alone. Things all have a place, they’re not necessarily organized, but it’s neat. It makes you smile.

It’s easy to see Alastor between the walls.

This is a home that’s been lived in. You count at least three portable radios in the living-room alone. There are books on the coffee table by the window, and the spines are creased as if it’s been read over and over and over again.

There’s a chair next to the window as well. It has stains, and the cushions sink as if they’ve been loved for decades. You can practically see Alastor in that chair, a warm drink in his hand. He’ll reach across, and twist the knob of the radio that already has his favorite station tuned.

Alastor strides out of the kitchen, your gift probably inside his freezer. “Follow me,” he says with a wave of his arm. “I have something to show you.”

“Oh . . . okay.”

There are photo frames lining the wall of his stairs.

You observe it as you follow deeper into this house. Some are photographs of what you’re going to assume is Alastor, and some are certificates. You don’t have time to poke around and read each and every one of them.

Alastor opens his arms, shaking them as he presents you with a door.

A single door . . . One door at the back of the house. A door you don’t know where it will lead.

You stare at him, and take one single step back. “You’re not going to kill me in your basement, right?”

Alastor laughs at you, wiping a tear for the sake of showing you. “Good heavens no! Why would you ever think that?”

“Because I’m inside a man’s house, and he’s currently leading me to the basement. A man, might I add, dumps bodies in the forest,” you tell him with a wonky smile. “I hope you don’t go around asking every lady to your murder basement.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“My goodness, you really know how to make a lady feel extra special.” You fiddle with the straps of your bag, tightening your grip to stifle the urge to smoothen your hair. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Alastor tilts his head. (It’s kind of cute.) “Do what?”

“You know . . . uh . . . . You’ll  tell me to run,” you say, then motion to the china vase behind. “Then I’ll grab this really nice and expensive looking vase and smash it over your head.”

“Please don’t.”

“And then I’ll make a run for the door.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You weren’t interested in running last time.”

“And I’m still not,” you say. “So there’s no point in killing me.”

He chuckles a bit and his glasses slide down his nose. He pushes it up. “Think of this as a gift! Or more like an offer of partnership.”

“A gift of death?”

“I've already told you I wasn’t planning on killing you anymore,” he says, sighing. “Just . . . just follow me, and you’ll see!”

You huff and cross your arms. “I detest being lied to.”

Alastor opens the basement door. The hinges creak. It appears as if darkness itself lives inside, swirling and eating up whatever light that passes through. “Yes, that’s good to know.”

You take another step back. “That’s a really creepy basement.”

“You haven’t even been inside yet,” Alastor says. He places a light hand on your back, practically pushing you down. “Now, now, don’t be so stubborn.”

You grab the door frames, and push against him to resist. “I’m not going without knowing what’s down there.”

Alastor presses on your back. “If you go down there and see what I’ve prepared, you will feel very silly for causing such a ruckus.”

You push back harder, using the door frames as support. “As first dates go, this is giving really mixed signals,” you say, trying to smile. “I hope you don’t treat all ladies like this.”

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Just the stubborn ones.”

You and Alastor are at a stalemate. He pushes. You push back. The classic dilemma of an unmovable force versus an immovable object. “If you kill me, I will haunt you,” you say, digging your feet into the wooden floors. “I will haunt you, and hide all your tacky bow ties.”

Alastor stops pushing, and you fumble backwards from the lack of his opposing force. He points his nose to the air, straightening his bow ties. “It is not.”

You frown at him. “Oh . . . I’m really sorry.”

“You should be.”

Taking this opportunity, you press against the wall like a hissing cat. “I’m sorry you actually believe that!”

Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes one deep breath. He strides to you, and the world goes upside-down when he flips you over his shoulder. Alastor carries you like a common sack of worthless potatoes.

“I really don’t like this!” you shriek, angling your head to glare at him. Alastor has a surprisingly really nice back. Like . . . a really, really nice back.

Alastor meets your eyes and smirks. “You’ll like it in a second.”

He tightens his grip around your hips, and his boney shoulders dig into your stomach. You keep your eyes ahead. “You have a really flat butt.”

He pauses for a second. “Stop looking at it.”

“I will do as I please,” you say with a huff, and go limp in his hold as you accept your fate. “It’s just all pointy. Maybe some squats will be helpful?”

“If it’s such a horror to you, stop ogling my buttocks like a pervert.”

“Now you’re just putting words into my mouth,” you say with a weird giggle. “These pants suit you well.”

He shakes you like a wet noodle. “I will drop you.”

“Please don’t.”

Alastor flips you, and your feet land safely on the ground. His basement is totally not creepy, totally not creepy at all. The fluorescent light bulb swaying around totally does not add to general horror. The blacked-out windows, and the spiderwebs on the wood make you not want to sprint to the top.

The cadaver bag on the table makes you stay.

It’s filled. You walk to the table, and observe the lump. Grasping the zipper, you pull it until the face of a dead man greets you. He’s fresh. Killed less than a day ago.

Alastor opens his arms, wide, as if to present to you. “Your studying can all be done right here!”

You stare at him, accepting the smile that creeps on your face. “Really?” you say, and trace this man’s nose with your fingers—his skin is cold. He is cold and dead, and full of organs you can poke around and observe. “You’re going to just allow me to dissect this body?”

Alastor smiles at you. “See?” he says. “You were making all the fuss, and now your smile could light up this very room.”

The laughter starts as a soft giggle that builds into excited glee. “I could kiss you right now.”

Alastor takes a step back. “Please don’t”

You roll your eyes then observe the person lying on this table. He wasn’t as big as the one before. This man still has the colors on his face, a bit pale, but he looks like he could just be in a sickly sleep. “Did you like this person?”

“Not at all,” he says. “He’d be alive if he was.”

“Then do you like me?” you say with a grin, placing a hand on your hips. “All this to get my attention, I see. I prefer being dined first, but not the worst first date I’ve ever been on.”

Alastor glares at you as he makes a face. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

“So quick to answer that it’s almost insulting,” you say. “Well, it was your decision to keep me alive.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that pierces your very core. The lightbulb makes a shadow pass over his eyes, and you swear his eyes glow. Every single cell in your body screams as Alastor looks down at you from his glasses with a smile and darkened brown eyes that match his well-kept brown hair. “And I’m currently debating my choice,” he says. “I do not like being mocked. I can still change my mind if I find you a weak link.”

“Oh . . . I . . . oh . . . .,” you say dumbly, coughing a little bit.  The words aren’t doing their job.

“Do you understand me?”

Basements are supposed to be cold—you definitely don’t feel cold right now. “I’m sure you can—I don’t doubt that at all.” To break your gaze on him, you turn to the dead man between you and Alastor. “This man didn’t suffer.”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. “And?”

“I’m not a total idiot when it comes to . . .  uh . . .  hunting,” you say, tilting the dead guy’s chin to see his neck. It was a bit stiff. “There’s a single deep slice on his neck. He was probably still high on adrenaline when you killed him, but with the other body, you took your time. That guy suffered—this one didn’t”

He crosses his arms. “I don’t see your point.”

“Nevermind . . . just . . . ,” you start and smile a bit. “Thank you for preserving this body so well, but unfortunately, I think I’ll have to refuse.”

Alastor’s eye twitches as he takes a step closer to you. His shadow towers over you. “You’re refusing?”

You zip the man back into his bag. “You don’t need a partner,” you say. “If anything, bringing him back into your house is risky. If it’s my silence you want, you already have it. There’s no need for all this.”

“I never asked for your silence.”

“Yet it’s yours nonetheless,” you say. “Thank you for the gift or offer for partnership, but I’m not interested in going into business with you.”

“Is this not beneficial for you?”

“It is . . . it really is, and every fiber wants to give in but it’s not wise for me to get mixed up with you,” you tell him. “I think you’re mistaking my sin for gluttony. I know trouble when I see it, and I’m not afraid to flee from it.”

Alastor’s face twists as his smile turns into a snarl. “All you could ever want right here.”

“You obviously want something from me,” you say. “I know you’re not above using tricks to get what you want. Although, I don’t understand why you take such time out of your day to do such consuming things.”

He glares at you. “There’s always the chance that you’d say no,” he says. “And I can’t have that happen.”

“I decide if something is worth my time or not,” you say. “I will only ask once: what do you want from me?”

Alastor exhales, and pushes his glasses. “I’d like to watch you work. There’s something I want to confirm.”

You study him for a second. “That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“Then hand me a pack of gloves please,” you say. “I can show you all the things I’ve learned.”

Alastor tosses gloves to your face. It whacks you and lands on the table. You curse at him, and roll your eyes.

There’s a large container of formaldehyde under the table. You don’t know where he got it or how, but still, you take a stray brush forgotten on one of the tables, and brush the skin with chemicals. The sharp smell stings your eyes, but you’ve learned to tolerate it. Alastor scrunches his nose, taking a step back.  

Opening the window would probably be wise, but you could do that later. Your father always did hope that you’d grow out of your bad habit. But with such an exhilarating opportunity, caution is at the back of your mind.

The scapple fits into your palm as if it was made for you. Throughout this Earth, no . . .  not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

Alastor laughs, not the breathy and light kind, but in a loud and triumphant way. His eyes bulge out, looking like they could pop out any second “It seems I was not wrong,” he says. “You have the most precious smile I have ever seen.”

“Okay?”

Alastor leans closer to you, jerking your chin to face him. “All this time I’ve seen you; I have never seen your smile as true and honest as now.”

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The bristles of the brush tangle on your feathers. It’s a struggle to smoothen the feathers at the back of your head now that you live alone.

The clock strikes an hour past noon, and work will call for you soon. It would be nice to be one time if this motherfucking brush would do its fucking job! You tug on the handle, cursing when it jerks your scalp. The smack of your forehead on the vanity table echoes around the room. The feathers bundled on the floor make you screech. That’s it. It’s over. You are not taking another second of this.

Discarding the brush, you head to the kitchen.

You grab two mugs, and take two spoonful of coffee ground and feed it to the coffee machine. With only a press of a button, you make the most perfectly perfected perfect cup of coffee. You take both mugs and take a seat on that little side table inside the kitchen.

The second mug steams with coffee.

You plop your chin on the table, unable to draw your eyes aways as you stare at it. Making a second cup is a waste of your money. Deep down to your very core, you’re aware that it’s a waste. It strikes you with the gentleness of a plane crash every single morning you make it, and every single night you have to throw it away.

Silence is your companion in this empty house. Where are the days when soft music plays on the radio? Where are the days where light footsteps walk around the carpeted floors? Where are the days of stories over dinner?  These days watching television is the only way to fill that silence.

A knock breaks your pathetic moping.

The knocking starts out soft and hesitant, until it’s replaced with loud banging.

Swiping your mug from the table, you stride to the front door and swing it open. Charlie and Alastor stand in front of you, big smiles on their faces.

Your husband pushes a small ugly statue right up your face, presenting it to you with a self-satisfied smile. “I was told it was polite to bring a gift to a person’s home,” Alastor says. “Do you like it?”

“Oh no . . . ,” Charlie says, frowning a bit. “I didn’t bring anything.”

Alastor places a hand on her shoulder. “No worries then! This gift shall be from the both of us.”

The mug slips from your hold. Charlie catches it, not a single drop spilling, and plops it back on your hand. You blink at Alastor and frown. “Why are you knocking?”

“We’re here on super serious business talk,” he says, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders to bring her closer. “Charlotte here has something to ask you.”

Charlie smiles. “Just Charlie, actually.”

You shake your head, tightening your grip on the mug. “No.”

Alastor tilts his head. “No?”

“No, this is your home,” you say, opening the door wider. “There’s no need to knock.”

Alastor and Charlie step inside, and you take a sip of your coffee—a long, drawn out sip. Alastor walks to the shelf nearest the door, placing your ugly little statue on the shelf that’s meant for all other ugly knickknacks. It blends in with all the other gifts Alastor’s given you.

Charlie’s eyes bounce around the walls, eyes wide as she looks around. “Wooooaaaaah,” she says. “This is a really nice house you guys have!”

Alastor glares at the television. “Why, thank you!” he says. “I put in a lot of care into how it looks. It seems you’ve redecorated—I don’t like it.”

“Oh, you never do,” you say. “Let’s move to the kitchen, shall we?”

Alastor’s ears straighten. “The kitchen?” he echoes. “Oh yes. Let’s go the kitchen.”

Alastor hooks his arms around yours, pulling you to the kitchen. There’s determination set in each step. You and Charlie take your seats by the kitchen table. Charlie continues to look around. You see it in her eyes as they flicker around to count each radio.

It seems you’ve made a mistake.

Alastor goes straight to the refrigerator, and swings it open.

With horror, you watch as his gaze observes each level meticulously, humming as he does. There’s not much to look at, considering the only thing inside are a couple of eggs, empty plastic containers that you’ve been too lazy to wash, last week’s takeout, and a couple of sauces and condiments.

When he finally closes it, your shoulders sink as you exhale . . . until, of course , Alastor wraps his fingers around the freezer’s handle.

“Would you like anything, Charlie?” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. “I think we have juice or lemonade—”

“We don’t have any of those,” Alastor says, and his gaze bears down on you. “It makes me wonder what will be inside our freezer, my love.”

Charlie smiles brightly. “I don’t need anything,” she says. “I had tea with Rosie this morning, and Alastor and I had lunch on the way here.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” you say, chuckling nervously. “You know what? It’s such a hellish day today, and it would be a waste to spend it here. Why don’t we move to the garden?”

“No.” Alastor crosses his arm. “We are staying right here.”

You sulk in your seat, drooping a little. “ . . . okay.”

Finally, Alastor opens the freezer door. His twitching eyes and pursed lips tell you everything you need to know about how the next fifteen minutes will go. Carefully, with the tips of his fingers, Alastor pulls out one of those microwave meals you buy at the grocery. He glares at the frozen chicken nuggets and pork cutlets, and all the processed frozen food you store there for easy meals.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say, giving him your most innocent smile. “And I barely eat those anyway. Those microwaved meals are just there for the occasional meal, I swear!”

Without uttering a single word, Alastor opens the cabinet under the sink where the trash can stays, and pulls it out. Empty microwave meals fill the brim. He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh dear . . . ” Charlie winces. “That’s a lot, even for me.

You sulk deeper into your chair.

Alastor inspects the cabinets above the sink. The only things that greet him are a bunch of pots and pans. Relief pours into you . . . until of course, Alastor grabs the largest pot at the back of the cabinet and opens it, smashing any sense of relief with a metal bat.

Alastor pulls out a large pack of instant noodles. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asks. “I remember telling you that I don’t like you eating these.”

“But they’re delicious,” you say, pouting a bit.

“These aren’t healthy,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re full of chemicals!”

“Everything is full of chemicals!” you counter. “And I only had a few. The dosage makes the poison.”

Alastor opens the trash can and tosses what was supposed to be your dinner. “The plastic said it was a pack of twelve?”

You cross your arms. “And? I don’t see your point.”

“There’s only two left.”

You fiddle with the handle of your mug. “I . . . I was busy . . . ?”

“We’re all busy,” he says and you could pick out the faintest sound of static. “Not a single fresh fruit or vegetable, or any proper meats. Have I taught you nothing?”

Your pout deepens. “Do we have to do this in front of Charlie, my deerest?”

Charlie raises her arms in surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she says. “Aren’t you a doctor?”

“Yes, one would think . . . .,” Alastor trails off. His eyes land on the second mug of coffee on the table, and his neck tilts to angle until it snaps. Static scratches that air until it warps. His eyes darken to reveal radio dials. “Expecting a guest today?”

You blink at him a bit dumbly, and take a long and drawn-out sip of your coffee to try and compose yourself. It doesn’t work. “I don’t make coffee for guests.”

Charlie panics a bit. “There, there Alastor,” she says. “No need to get all crazy!”

Alastor’s antlers grow. “I’m aware you don’t. So, who is it for?”

“Oh . . . .” Dumbly blinking at him continues, and the words don’t seem to be doing their job.

Alastor leans closer, his voice morphing a bit. “I’d appreciate an answer, my love.”

“It's yours,” you find yourself saying. “ . . . If you want it, that is.”

He blinks at you. You blink at him. Charlie blinks at the both of you.

Gone are the growing antlers, and the static that buzzes your skin. Alastor stands before you with that never ending smile, perfectly normal—well, as normal as he can be. “You weren’t aware I’d be visiting.”

You frown at him. “It’s not a visit if it’s your own home.”

“I didn’t tell you I’d be coming home,” he says. “Why make one for me?”

The heat on your face makes you turn away. “Just take it, deerest.”

“Taste lovely as always!” he says, taking a swig. Your frown turns into a soft smile as your watch him drink. “But don’t think you’re getting away from this conversation.”

“It really isn’t my fault.”

“Oh, really now?” Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I’m positive I taught you how to cook nutritious dishes.”

You flick the mug, and a soft clink echoes a bit. “I still cook proper food for myself,” you tell him, showing him your saddest smile. “But . . . I find myself hating the dishes.”

Alastor twirls his microphone, and it strikes the ground with a soft thunk. “And you think saying this will get you off the hook?”

You stick your tongue out. “Is it working?”

Alastor sighs at you, and turns to the ticking clock. “We’re wasting time—go talk to Charlotte.”

Charlie smiles awkwardly. “Just Charlie, actually.”

With a triumphant smile, you turn to Charlie. “So,” you begin, “what business are we going to talk about today?”

It’s Charlies turn to sulk into the kitchen chair. “Extermination is a month away,” she says. “And Adam is heading straight to the hotel first! It’s just one bad event after another because Heaven refuses to listen, and I’m running out of options.”

Alastor steps behind you. Suddenly, a brush combs through the back of your feathers, smoothing those parts of your head that you’ve never been able to reach by yourself.  Sometimes, you think Hell gave you feathers so someone could brush it for you. A part of you warms at the fact that you didn’t even need to ask your husband to smoothen your feathers. It’s a job he’s been doing since you first spawned in hell, and it seems it’s work he’s keen on continuing.

“Extermination,” you echo. “I love the extermination. There are so many desperate and poor souls who want to keep their limbs. I get rather busy—prime deal making opportunities right there.”

Charlie winces a bit. “Oh dear . . . um . . . okay. That sounds fun? And a little violent.”

Alastor speaks up from behind you, still running a brush through your feathers. “We can from Cannibal Town! Charlie was able to convince Rosie’s people to take arms.”

“Then, what brings you to me?” you ask, stiffening your back as you try not to lean into the brush that combs through your feathers. Alastor always was better at preening you. “I’m not much of a fighter.”

“Alastor suggested that I ask for your help,” Charlie says. “He said you’re one of the few people who knows how to fix wounds that come from Angelic Weapons.”

You bat your eyes at Alastor. “Spilling all my secrets, I see.”

Alastor glides the brush over your hair, leaning close to your ear. “Oh, not everything.”

You laugh and glance at Charlie. “In front of a guest, my deer?”

Charlie cringes with the most hilarious frown.

“It’s just a matter of counteracting the holiness of their weapons,” you say, clearing your throat. “After that, it’s purely medical.”

“How is that even possible?”

Alastor trails through your feathers, and it tingles and flutters. You keep your expression emotionless. “I’m surprised you don’t know this,” you say. “Did Belphegor never tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, eons ago, Belphegor found out that angelic weapons are considered holy, and that’s very bad for a Sinner,” you explain. “So, she and a bunch of her team found out that if you cut off the holy site or embed a large amount of Sinner energy, one will be able to treat it.”

Alastor leans closer, butting into the conversation. “I prefer it when you cut it off.”

“Of course you do,” you say with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Embedding the wounds with your magic takes too much energy from you, and because of that you always come home to me with sunken eyes. That is, if you don’t pass out before you reach the front door,” Alastor tells you. “I don’t understand why you go out of your way when they’re not worthy.”

“Worthy?”

“Yes, worthy,” he says. “Had they been competent, they wouldn’t need to go to you in the first place. It only proves that they’re weak.”

You smile at his words. “I guess I never thought of it that way.

Charlie rolls her eyes at the both of you. “So, you could help us?”

You twist, turning to Alastor. “I think you’ve gotten all my feathers straightened out,” you say. “My love, can you do me a favor?”

Lightly, Alastor taps your head with the tip of his cane. “Of course, how can I help?”

“I think the plants need some watering.”

The brush on Alastor’s hand dissolves with a poof. He leans closer once again, trailing your cheek with his finger until they hook on your chin. He captures you with his stare, and you allow him to trap you. He presses his lips on your cheek, and disappears into his shadow.

You take an even longer sip of your coffee.

Charlie massages her forehead, eyes twitching. “Dear Satan, it’s like watching my parents all over again! I can leave, you know,” she says, snorting. “Give you two a little privacy?”

“Oh, don’t bother,” you tell her. “There wouldn’t be enough time.”

Her brows furrow. “Time?”

“After all, extermination is in a month,” you say, brightening your smile. “We’re going to need at least two.”

“ What the fuuuuck,. ” Charlie whispers underneath her breath, her voice a pitch higher.

“Every couple of years, there will be certain seasons where it takes six!” you say. “Sinner bodies are just so exhilarating.”

Charlie chokes on her spit, and her eyes bulge. “Are you serious?”

“Hmmm, I could be—who knows?” You raise your mug to toast, and take a drink.

“You’re joking,” Charlie says. “ . . . Right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“My dear, is that a question you would want an answer to?” you ask. “Would you be prepared if the answer happens to be no ?”

Charlie sinks deeper into her chair. “Okay, then! Moving on, now.”

Leaning on your palm, you laugh. “My deerly beloved husband wouldn’t give all this information for free,” you say. “What did he ask for?”

“We made a deal.”

Your hands drop to the table. “Oh Charlotte,” you say. “That was a foolish mistake. You don’t know what Alastor does to the so—“

“I still have my soul!” Charlie exclaims, balling her fist. “From Vaggie! From you—his own wife! I did what I needed to do to keep my people safe . . . Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be so reliant on Alastor,” you tell her with a small smile. “You can’t trust him.”

“He’s given me no reason no to trust him, and . . . ,” Charlie trails off. “And Alastor is my friend.”

Your smile brightens a bit. “Friend?”

“Yes?” Charlie says. “Everyone at the hotel is my friend, and he’s been a tremendous help.”

You place your hands over Charlies and give it a squeeze. “Convince me to help you.”

“W-what?”

“Alastor isn’t asking me to go play medic in the middle of a warzone.” Your brush your feathers out of your face. “If he was asking, I would say yes without a second thought because that’s who we are, but he isn’t asking me, Charlie, you are.”

Charlie hums, placing a finger on her lips as she thinks. “I heard from Angel that you and Alastor got married whe—“

CRASH!

She grips the table, eyes wide as she looks around. “What was that?”

You take a long and drawn-out sip of coffee, contemplating your choice for marriage. “Nothing to be worried about,” you say. “That was just my television.”

“Your Tv?” Charlie frowns a bit. “Did . . . did Alastor just throw away your Tv?”

You laugh, swatting your hand in the air. “Not at all!” you say. “It probably tripped out my window—those picture boxes are always so clumsy.”

Charlie raises her eyebrows. “You’re saying that your Tv . . . just tripped out the window.”

You smile at her. “You were saying something?”

She sighs, massaging her forehead. “You got married when you were alive, but continue to stay together. It’s very rare for Sinners to do such a thing,” she says. “And with all of that . . . uh . . . Alastorness.”

“It’s alright, you can just say bat-shit crazy.”

“I’d prefer not to,” she says with an awkward laugh. “So, how were you able to stay together for so long

“Are you . . . ,” you trail off, blinking. “Are you asking me for relationship advice?”

“A bit? If that’s okay,” she says. “Rosie already helped but, well, she did eat her first husband.”

“I don’t think I can be of much help.” Your lips purse. “Alastor and I don’t exactly have the most conventional marriage.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1927

“Do you like it?” Alastor offers you a spoonful of the simmering sauce.

You lean closer, shifting from your seat on his kitchen counter. Alastor dips the spoon in your opened mouth. “It’s spicy,” you say, lips twisting when you cough. “Is it supposed to be like that?”

Alastor tilts his head. A lock of his hair falls to the side. “No . . . it’s not.” He takes back the spoon and dips it into the pan. Alastor coughs as soon as it hits his tongue. “How many peppers did you add?”

Your legs sway, and the heels of your foot tap the cabinets below you. “I added what was written on the recipe! Exactly twelve peppers.”

Alastor twists the stove’s knob, killing the fire. “Take a look at the notebook again,” he says and reaches over your legs, grabbing his book full of recipes. “If you use these things called ‘eyes’ and ready, you’d be able to see that it says, ‘one to two’!”

“No, it does not!” you huff, grabbing the notebook from him. You read through the list of ingredients. There, near the bottom, pass the four cloves of chopped garlic, half a shallot, and a pinch of pepper, ‘one to two peppers’ is scribbled with blocky letters. “Oh . . . that’s my bad. Yeah, that’s on me.”

Alastor adjusts his sleeves, pulling it back up his forearm. (Hmm, not a bad look.) “There’s no point in teaching you how to cook this if you don’t know how to read!” he says, eyes twitching. “Go . . . Just go over there and let me fix this.”

“I already said I was sorry!”

“No, you did not!” Alastor says, throwing his hands into the air. “What you said was,‘Oh . . . that’s my bad. Yeah, that’s on me’, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s on me,” you repeat with a snort. “That’s my bad.”

“Get out of my kitchen before you ruin dinner.” He leans on the counter, crossing his arms. You hum to yourself. Alastor should pull his sleeves up more. “Go set the table or something. And wash your hair when you get home—it smells like chemicals.”

With a huff, you do as you're told.

You slide off his counter, opening the cabinet and grab two bowls with one arm and reach for the table placemats with the other.

Two sets of utensils, glass cups, and paper napkins. It’s one more set than what you prepare when you’re at your own home. Two . . . Two. It’s becoming quite the word in your vocabulary.

There’s a proper table waiting to be used in the other room, but this smaller one you’re setting, with its fraying edges and turmeric stains suit the both of you much better.

Three ice-cubes bobble at the top of Alastor’s water. It’s how he likes it. It’s funny. You don’t remember Alastor disclosing this particular information. It’s just something you noticed one day, and you’ve never stopped noticing. What else have you unconsciously learned about him, and what have you unconsciously taught him about you?

Alastor walks to the table, a large steaming bowl in his hands. He places it between the bowls, and you reach into the drawer for a ladle.

The taste tingles your tongue. It’s good. Better than anything you could possibly make for yourself.

You reach into your pocket and toss a handkerchief at Alastor’s face. It lands on between his hair. He tilts his head, shaking it, and the cloth slides on the table. “It’s yours,” you tell him, taking a spoonful of your food. “Thanks for dinner.”

Alastor studies how his name is embroidered in near letters, thumbing the music notes framing it. “Dinner was a way to thank you for this week’s meat.”

He tosses back the handkerchief. It smacks your face.

You peel it from your skin, and trace the letters you’ve threaded during your very scarce free time. “I can’t go around with a handkerchief that has your name on it.”

His smile widens. “Why not?”

“People would think I’m a fan.” You hand Alastor the handkerchief this time. “Just take it as a gift then.”

Alastor takes it from you, and places it into his pocket.

You hum into your spoon with a pleased smile. “Hey Al,” you say. “Tell me what you did today.”

Alastor takes his time chewing and swallowing his food. “As you can see,” he tells you, “I’m eating.”

“I’m bored,” you say. “Eat while you talk.”

He reaches across the table, and his fingers catch on the knob of the radio to turn it on.

Classical music plays out of the speaker. It was correct to assume that Alastor pre-sets radios to play his favorite stations. Although, you didn’t imagine that each of his many radios would have their own specific station. A different radio for different stations. You questioned Alastor about it, but he didn’t say much.

Once the bottom of the bowls has been scraped into your stomachs, you take the dishes and go to the sink.

Your nose scrunches at the sight of the piled dishes. Alastor watches you with a smile. You turn away when you notice.

Alastor takes a container from the cabinet above your head. He’s warm. Always warm.

He takes two containers, placing the leftovers inside. And there it is again, that word—Two. Not one, but two. One for him. One for you. You didn’t ask for leftovers. You’ve never asked at all. Alastor will just hand you the container like it’s the most automatic thing in this world for him to do.

You take the first of many bowls, and rinse the stubborn pieces with your hands. “There’s too many dishes,” you say. “It’s like you have one for every ingredient. Did you really need to use separate ones for each and every ingredient we used?”

He leans on the counter, slotting himself next to you.  “I don’t like mixing the flavors until it’s time to add them.”

Alastor adjusts his pulled sleeves and crosses his arms.

The bowl slips from your grip.

“Oh . . . I . . . uh . . . sorry,” you say, picking up the bowl. “I mean, you really didn’t need one for the salt and pepper. They already come in containers—why couldn’t you just, I don’t know, eyeball it?”

“Eyeball it?”

“Yeah, or feel it with your soul or something,” you say and pick up the measuring spoons to show him. “You had to measure three pinches of salt instead of actually just pinching it.”

Alastor laughs, and strands of his hair slide down to his eyes. “And how did it taste?”

Your shoulders slump when you sigh. “Good.”

He bumps his shoulders with yours. “That’s just the way I was taught.”

“Well,” you start, “your way creates more dishes for me to clean.”

Alastor pivots from the counter, and takes his place in front of the second sink. He grabs the dish you’ve already rinsed and sponges it with soap. It’s quite the system you’ve created. You grab a dirty dish, rinse it, and pass it on to Alastor who cleans it with a sponge.

The next minute goes something like this:

Alastor flicks water at your face. You ignore it.

Flick. Ignore.

Flick. Ignore.

Flick. Ignore.

The water damps your hair. You kick his leg. “Stop that.”

Alastor drenches his hand under the faucet, letting his fingers accumulate water. He flicks it at you.

The grip you have on the plate tightens. “I am going to smash this on your head.”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. He glares. You glare back. He cups his hand under the faucet like a bowl. The water pools between his hands. He throws the water at you. It hits your eyes, blinding you. That does little to stop you.

You grip the plate, swinging it in his direction.

The plate doesn’t connect with anything . . .  Sadly. You rub the water out your eyes, and find Alastor kneeling on the floor with a triumphant smile.

Alastor stands up, brushing dirt from his pants. “You missed.”

“You ducked.”

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” he says. “What if you actually hit me?”

You pass the plate to Alastor before you scratch the urge to swing at that smug smile of his. “Hey Al,” you say. “Tell me what you did today.”

Alastor closes the faucet. “You always ask me that.”

“That’s because you say it in entertaining ways,” you say. “It’s boring to wash the dishes without something to distract me.”

Alastor soaps the dish. “Your lessening attention span worries me.”

You roll your eyes at him, and flick water at his face. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says. “I find myself having no reason to deny you.”

Alastor’s glasses slide down his nose. He leans close enough for you to smell his perfume. He’s warm—always warm. It takes a second for you to understand. You dry your hands on a stray towel and fix it in place.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1928.

The metal bench cools the back of your neck.

The sun blinds your eyes, but you keep a steady gaze on the afternoon beams. When was the last time you felt the heat of the sun kiss your skin? As the seconds tick by. As the birds fly above you. As the leaves fall from their stem, melting on this bench seems like a heavenly idea.

But as the clock will eventually strike. But as the birds will eventually find their nest. But as the leaves will eventually land. So, too, must you eventually go back to work.

A shadow blocks the sun.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Alastor’s upside-down face smiles at you. “Good morning to you!”

With a yelp, you swing your forehead forward.

Alastor leans backwards, narrowly missing your head by centimeters. “Not the greeting I imagined, but hello to you as well,” he says. “The receptionist said I could find you here.”

You twist, turning to him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

Alastor slides over the bench, and takes the free seat next to you. His legs cross. “Why would I not be, okay?”

There’s some bag slung over his shoulder, but that’s not important right now. Your eyes trail his body. Hair? Fixed. Smile? Wide. Clothes? Perfect. “You’re at a clinic.”

Alastor swats his hand. “I was in the area.”

That classic city stench attacks your nose, but it’s just nice to feel the way your hair sways from the breeze. “You’re not going to kill me, right?”

Alastor nudges his leg with yours. “You say that every single time!”

Your smile turns smug. “I’ll stop saying it when it stops becoming funny.”

Alastor rolls his eyes, showing it off to you. “It never was.”

“It is to me,” you say and wave your hands in the air. “Just imagine this, the great Alastor had to stalk me!”

“I am great, but remind me again,” he begins, propping his arm on the bench to lean on it, “how long did you have to follow me?”

Sighing, you lean your head on the backrest to count the clouds. It’s nice to be able to see actual clouds for once instead of the drawing of children who wait. “ . . . Three months.”

“Exactly,” he says, and you hear the smugness in his words. “And I didn’t need to do any stalking—you led me straight to your house.”

You blow a raspberry at him. “Why are you even here then?”

Alastor props his legs on your lap. You push him off. He brings it back. It’s not worth fighting him right now. “I actually was in the area,” he says, and hands you the bag slung over his shoulder. “The director thought it would be a grand idea to bring the staff out to lunch.”

You unzip the bag, and packed lunch greets you. And there it is again. Two. Two. Two. One for you. One for him. Maybe both for you? “Al, tell me why I’m currently looking at two packed lunches?”

Alastor beams at you, and slides his legs off your lap. “I accidentally cooked too much today,” he said. “I thought it would be a grand idea to share.”

Your frown. “But . . . you already ate.”

“Oh . . . I was already planning on dropping by,” he says. “It was quite the stroke of luck that you’re only taking your break now, and that we happened to have lunch nearby. I thought I’d bring you a treat.”

Questions bubble on your throat. “Thank you, Al,” you say instead. You open the container and take a bite, savoring the taste. “It’s delicious.”

Alastor leans closer, and picks a leaf off your head. “That’s because I actually followed the recipe.”

You point your spoon at him. “That was just that one time!”

He smiles at you, chuckling softly. “Three actually.”

Before the clock strikes, it will tick. Before the birds find their nest, they will fly. Before the leaves hit the ground, it will fall. And before you eventually go back to work, you will eat on this bench, Alastor to your side.

He stares ahead. As you eat, you watch his eyes flicker. It goes from the kid then to a plant then to an old lady. This, you don’t question. You’ve stopped wondering what he could possibly be thinking years ago.

Alastor leans closer to your ear. “Do you see that lady?” he asks, voice low. His breath tickles your skin. “That one over there with the feather on her hat?”

You scan the people around the area, spotting the lady old enough to be your grandmother. A scarf wraps around her neck, despite the sun beaming with the afternoon heat. She lazily walks around. “What about her?”

“Do you think her name could be Edith? She looks like an Edith,” Alastor says. “She probably had three children, and married young when her parents forced her to marry this ugly but rich man she could never love.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. It’s like a mantra that plays in your head. There’s no reason not to play along whatever nonsense he’s spouting. “Sure, why not?”

“But no!” he exclaims into your ear. You jerk away and shove him with an elbow. “Oof . . . .Edith just had to defy all expectations, and she chose to elope with her childhood sweetheart. He’s not the richest man, but they survived.”

“That’s sweet.”

“And to this day,” he says, “everyone still calls her, ‘Edith the Penguin’.”

“Edith the penguin?” you echo. “Now I’m just confused.”

Alastor’s eyes shine. “Because she walks like a penguin with their ass on fire,” he snorts. “Your turn, now.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. And you would love to be brought lunch again.

“Fine.” You place your spoon down, and look around to the first person who grabs your attention. “That little kid over there—His name is Thomas, and he likes balloons.”

Alastor blinks at you. “And?”

You take your time chewing and swallowing your food. “That’s all.”

He gawks at you, and rolls your eyes. “It must be so boring to be you.”

“It is not!” You huff at him, and kick his leg. “I am a very interesting person, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh really, now? Thomas, and he likes balloons?” Alastor says,and points at the kid with twitching eyes. “He’s holding a balloon!”

You wave your arms, the spoon still in your grip. “So, he probably likes it!” you say. “Thomas wouldn’t get a balloon if he didn’t like it.”

“I pity your sense of imagination.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. And you would love to be brought lunch again.

You swallow what remains inside the container, and pack it up. “Is this what you do when you zone out as I’m tal—and you’re doing it again, aren’t you?” you say. “You are an incredibly judgmental person.”

“It’s called using my imagination. Something you apparently don’t have,” he says with a snort. “So . . . tell me what you did today.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “That’s my question.”

Alastor shrugs, taking the closed container and zipping it inside his bag. He hands you a tissue. “Well, I’m asking it now.”

You prop your arm on the bench, leaning on it. Alastor’s hair spikes out in odd places today. It must have quite the trek to the clinic. “I’m not as good a storyteller as you are.”

He props his arms on the bench, mimicking your pose. His eyes stare straight into yours. “ I don’t need a story,” he says. “I just want to know what you did today.”

You press your palm on his face, pushing him away from your face. The sun’s heat is really getting to you. Alastor’s nose crinkles as he rubs it. “Why would you even want to know what I do?”

Alastor props his elbows on his knees, observing the people around him. “You always ask me what I did,” he says. “I want to know if there’s something special about it.:

“There’s nothing special about it,” you tell him. Was there actually? You’re not sure. “I just like knowing, and it always entertains me.”

Alastor meets your eyes with a wide smile. “Then tell me what you did today,” he says. “Entertain me.”

The clock ticks closer. The birds are already close to their nests. The leaves are already floating to the ground. You are already close to going back to work, closer to this moment becoming nothing but a distant memory. “That was my first meal of the day.”

Alastor’s eyebrows furrow and his lips twist into a hard scowl. “That’s not healthy.”

You shut your eyes and sigh. “I never said it was.”

“How would you live without me?”

Remember, Alastor brought you lunch, and it would be nice if he could bring you lunch again. “I’m going to hit you.”

Alastor bumps your knees with his. “Lovely,” he says, and you can hear the smile he’s wearing. “I’m sure it will be very painful because you’re so full of energy right now.”

Eyes still shut, you bump his knees back. “I’ve been busy,” you say. “And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Alastor hesitates for a second. “First of all, we’re all busy,” he says. “Second, I didn’t roll my eyes.”

“You did—it was audible,” you tell him with a soft chuckle. “Anyway, there’s nothing new with my day. It’s just the usual, people to see, files to file, blood to draw, pee to get on me.”

Alastor digs his finger into your cheek, twisting it as he presses down. “Wow, you really are a horrible storyteller.”

You know what, maybe you don’t need Alastor bringing you lunch. You peek open an eye to stare at him. “I’m going to smash a plate on your head once we start doing the dishes.”

Alastor mashes your cheek like some button. Over and over and over and over again. You swat his hand, and he rubs it with a grimace. “Were you planning on dropping by today?”

You place an arm over your eyes, blocking out the sun. “Will I have to do the dishes?”

“You don’t have to specifically do the dishes.”

You comb through your hair with your fingers. “That wouldn’t exactly be fair to you.”

“If you're so insistent, we can find something else for you to do,” he says. “I mean, if you hate it so much you don’t have to do it.”

“I don’t hate it,” you say with a sigh. A church bell sounds. It echoes through the buildings and through the trees. “Al . . . I’m tired.”

“I know,” he says, and you hear how softly he chuckles. “Your eyes are drooping so low I could fill the entire ocean in them.”

“I want to sleep, Al.”

“I know.”

“I hate this job.”

Alastor pauses for a second, and he bumps his shoulders with yours. “You don’t.”

The clock hasn’t struck yet. The birds haven’t flown to their nests. The leaves haven’t reached the ground. And so too will you stay in this moment of time.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1929

Footsteps creak on the wooden stairs. The sound is ignored, just like every other thing that isn’t relevant to you.

The dead cadaver under you has weird kidneys. The one on your palm is too small for a kidney that belongs to someone of his size. You take your scalpel, slicing it to observe the cross section.

“It’s time to stop,” Alastor tells you. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Him and his smile is not important right now. “You’ve been here all night.”

“Leave me alone,” you mumble. The human body continues to be amazing. The medulla is clearly outlined. The colors of its cells were so different from the cortex. “ . . . Kidneys, Alastor. He has weird kidneys. Hehehehe weird kidneys . . . ”

Alastor says your name in a way that forces you to listen.

“ . . . Oh . . . yes?” you say a bit dumbly.

“It’s nightfall,” he says, and the tone of his voice buzzes your skin. “Come on now, do as you're told. Be upstairs in fifteen minutes.”

It’s not an easy task to do as Alastor says, especially when this man’s left kidney is a whole different size from the right. However, with a frown, you slot the kidney from the opened chest cavity, and pack up the body.

You step out of the basement, and walk to the kitchen.

There’s a plate waiting for you on the table. It’s still hot. Muffled music plays from the porch, and you see Alastor’s outline through the windows. Taking your plate, you step out the front door and into the outdoors.

(Something you really need to start seeing more.)

And oh . . . he’s not listening to the radio. Alastor plays the recording of his show. It was a present you got him a few months back.

You take your seat on the matching rocking chair.

Alastor watches you settle into your seat. He turns the volume down. “Tables were invented for a reason.”

The chair rocks when you swing your legs. “It’s nice out here,” you say, and take a bite of vegetables. “The sky is much clearer. It helps that there’s no stench of piss.”

He turns to you with a small smile. “That’s because you live in the city.”

The wind blows your hair into your face. You push it out of the way. “Hey, Al,” you say slowly. “Tell me what you did today.”

“Why should I?”

You lean back into the chair, letting the rocking sway you. “Well, you got home late,” you say. “I had to use my keys.”

Alastor leans back on the chair, using the tips of his shoe to rock himself. “Yes, that was the point of the keys,” he says, humming. “It would be a shame to come home to another broken window.”

The taste of the vegetables mixed with the meat makes you smile in delight. “Are you still holding on to that?”

“Always.”

“I paid you back, eventually,” you tell him, pointing your fork at him. “Why are you still holding a grudge for an honest accident?”

On his cheek , where it’s always been and where it’ll always be, his smile strains. “You expect me to believe that a rock smashing my window was an honest accident.”

You offer him your most innocent smile. “Yes.”

“Well, I hope your windows are much sturdier then,” he says, mimicking your smile. “One of these days, I might cause an accident.”

The stars twinkle in the sky. There’s a vast amount of knowledge those gassy balls hold. Maybe your life would be less horrific if you were interested in the stars instead. “In my defense, you were late.”

Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose. “You couldn’t wait fifteen minutes?”

You take another bite of your meal, and sway happily to do a little dance. “Just . . .  okay? Just tell me what you did before I finish my meal.”

Alastor reaches into his pocket and tosses a keychain at you. It lands between your legs.

You set the plate on the coffee table between you, and hold the keychain to the light. It was a cute, little cartoon alligator. “What’s this?”

“It’s yours.”

“I can tell that much,” you say, twirling the gift between your fingers. “You never give me nice knickknacks. It’s always the ugly ones

Alastor huffs at you. “That doesn’t sound like my problem anymore,” he says. “I thought you would appreciate something that looks halfway decent one and for all.”

“I find the ugly ones really charming, actually. They’re very funny to look at,” you say. “So, where did you get this?”

Alastor clasps his hands, resting it on his stomach as he rocks himself. “Saw an advertisement. Went to the zoo.”

You scrunch your face. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“Go finish your meal.”

You pocket his gift, and grab the plate on the table. “Master of storytelling right here, ladies and gentlemen,” you say, barking a laugh. “I figured you would love the excuse of hearing yourself talk.”

Alastor ignores you, reaching for his notepad instead.

You watch Alastor as he writes on his notepad. The breeze sways a strand of his hair. His lips twist when he thinks, just like he’s doing right now

Your eyes fall on your plate, to where vegetables and meat were carefully tossed together. Alastor cooked today—he always cooks.

When you finish, you’ll grab the plates, and begin the mountain of dishes. Even when dish soap stings your fingers, even when the feeling of wet food grosses you, and even when thousands of dirty dishes wait for you . . . it’s something you don’t mind.

Once this meal is finished, you and him will step inside. He’ll properly tell you about his day, and you’ll take the pan and scrub it.

Ah . . . there it is again. That word—Two.

But it’s not two of anything. It’s simply just two. You and Alastor.

“You’re frowning,” Alastor says. He stares at you from the corner of  his eyes. “Why?”

It’s weird.

Very weird.

You don’t . . . You don’t understand. How do you say the words you do not know how to explain?

It’s almost as if . . . “We should get married.”

Alastor’s laughter rings across the open land. “No.”

The inside of your cheek stings from how you bite it. You turn away to hide your flushed cheeks. “I . . . It just came out, okay?” you mumble. “I’m really trying not to be offended that you turned me down without a second thought, and with a laugh as well.”

Alastor turns back to his notepad. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m nothing you want.”

The moonlight reflects off his brown eyes.

“Sometimes . . . ,” you begin, and a small smile appears on your lips. “Sometimes I wish you see yourself the way I see you.”

Alastor laughs at you again. “You’ve been having such thoughts about me?” he says. “What an absolute honor! I’m deeply flattered.”

“And then you say words like that, and I immediately know it’s not worth it

Alastor lifts his eyes from his notepad to peek at you. He fixes his eyeglasses. “You don’t actually think we should get married.”

To be infuriating, you take a bite from your plate, savoring each flavor with drawn out chews.

“I have no idea,” you say. “But . . . I mean, why not? There are many good reasons for me to marry you—it’s advantages for me, and everyone already thinks we’re dating.”

Alastor turns back to his notepad, shaking his head. “That’s the most absurd idea I’ve ever heard.”

“What, being in a relationship with me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s twice you’ve managed to offend me.” You laugh to hide your frown. “But that friend of yours. The feathery one from the lounge you like taking me to.”

Alastor tilts his head. “Mimzy?”

“Ah yes, her,” you say with a hum. “She asked me if you um . . . uh . . .  well, if you liked vanilla or hot and spicy.”

“If I had to answer, Id say hot and spicy?” Alastor says, and you laugh at the confusion on his face. “I got a bottle of this pepper flakes infused with old. It was quite the treat.”

“That’s exactly what I figured you would say,” you tell him.“Unfortunately for you, Mimzy was talking about sex.”

Alastor scrunches his face.

“Oh don’t make such a face, there is absolutely no need to be afraid of the prospect of such activities.” The final bite of your meal bursts with so much flavor that you revel it for a second. “Al, let’s get married.”

Alastor glares at you. “No.”

You place the plate on the coffee table. It can be  washed after this conversation. “Why not?”

He points his pen between you and him..“We aren't even dating,” he says. “And . . . I can’t express such passionate displays of affection.”

You rock the chair with your shoe. An owl hoots from somewhere beyond the trees. Huh, you weren’t aware owls lived in this area. “Don’t be a child—just say sex.”

Again, his face scrunches. “I will not.”

“It’s a really good thing,” you say, sighing, “that no one’s asking.”

Alastor searches for your eyes. He holds it. It was only ever his to hold anyway. “I’m not even sure I’m interested in romance.”

You look around, whipping your head. “I think I’m missing the part where someone asked.”

“Be serious.”

“Okay fine. This is me being serious because I am when I say that all I don’t need your romance—Al, you accepted me for who I am, and to me? That is enough,” you say with a soft smile. “You are all I could ever ask for.”

Alastor stares at the stars, his eyes capturing each one. “I can’t love you like a husband should.”

The stares are really beautiful. Each shines in their own way. Alastor sees the beauty in them, but you aren’t going to be beaten by a gas ball.

Tonight, you will be the only star Alastor should keep his gaze on.

“Alastor, look at me.”

He keeps his eyes on the stars.

Huffing, you stride to his chair, and block his view of the night sky.

You plant your arms on the armrest for support, and inch your face so close that you are the only thing he will see. “Alastor,” you say his name, voice oh so soft, “look at me.”

Oh . . . his eyes are browner than you thought. It’s a deep and dark brown that pulls you in.

“You can love me in ways that matter.” You press your forehead against his, and close your eyes.

There are more words to be said, but right now you and him stay in this moment of time. Just . . . for . . . a second.

“I will never force you to love me in ways you cannot,” you whisper. The ends of his hair brush against your skin. “Alastor, I could never reject the type of love you can offer me. I can never deny you.”

Alastor caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Friends don’t get married.”

Impulsivity was such a bad habit of yours. It’s a fact that makes you bear the consequences, but consequences be damned. You take his hand, holding it in yours. The pads of his fingers have different textures. Some are smooth. Some are rough. But the whole thing warms you to the touch.

It’s unfair. He’s unfair. How could something as simple as taking his hand intoxicate?

Your lips hover over his skin, brushing it a little. Alastor doesn’t pull away. With a smile that Alastor always seems to put on your lips, you plant a soft kiss on his ring finger.

“We aren’t normal people. There’s no reason to force ourselves into a conventional relationship.” You meet his eyes with a smile. Every word you utter brushes your lips yo his skin. “This marriage will be defined however we want. You offered me a partnership in death . . . .This is me offering you a partnership in life.”

You press your lip on the back of his hand one final time, and return to your chair.

Alastor doesn’t speak.

You rock yourself with your foot, enjoying the sway of the chair.“There is that added benefit that the police won’t be suspicious of a doting husband.”

Alastor scrunches his face. “Doting husband?” he echoes. “I thought we wouldn’t be having a normal marriage.”

“That doesn’t mean a lady doesn’t want to feel special,” you say, snorting. “I’ve always dreamed of a doting husband.”

Alastor rips a page out of his notepad. He folds it with his hands.

His vets match his shoes today. The hair on the back of his head sticks out and curls. Did he take a nap today? “I could be like this every single night,” you say softly. “You and me. The two of us under the stars until our hairs turn gray.”

Alastor’s gaze stays locked on the piece of paper he’s folding. “Why me?”

You stare at him with a smile, and lean your face on your palm. “Does it need to be said?”

Alastor glances at you with those brown eyes of his. “I’m asking.”

“It’s because . . . It’s . . . I . . . ,” your trail off. How do you summon the words to describe something you don’t understand?

There’s a smug smile on Alastor’s lips. “What, is it because you love me?”

“Would it be so bad if I did?” you say, chuckling into your arm. “But . . . well, I don’t exactly know how to properly say this.”

“Just open your mouth,” he says, rolling his eyes, “and let the words do it’s job.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” you tell him, and your cheeks tingle. “Maybe even past life. Can you imagine that? You and me in hell, doing our dishes together.”

There’s an odd look on his face. “Sure.”

“We can listen to the radio,” you say. “And I’ll ask you about your day, and you will tell me the wildest and most grandiose story while we clean a pot.”

Alastor smiles at you. “You hate doing the dishes.”

“I do not.”

“You do. I see it—I always do,” he says with a soft chuckle. Alastor taps his nose. “Your nose scrunches every time, yet you never ask for help.”

What expression are you making right now?

You bring your legs to your chest. “I’m willing to give up everything for dirty dishes if it means I have you as a companion for the rest of my life.”

Alastor turns back to whatever he was folding.

You hide your face in your legs, face flushed and warm. “Say something . . . please,” you say, whispering. “I just poured out my heart for you

You hear Alastor rise from his seat. He places a hand on your head. “Today’s dinner . . . ,” he says, and his voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Did you like it?”

You smile even if he couldn’t see it, and lean into his hand. “It was one of the most delicious thing I have ever tasted.”

“I wouldn’t mind making it for you for the rest of my life . . . if you’re willing to wash the dishes with me for the rest of yours,” Alastor says, and you think this is the most honest thing he’s ever told you. “It’s yours. Even if you don’t want it, this is yours now.”

You peek out of your knees. Alastor’s smile is soft. He opens his palms and your eyes flicker to them. He shows you what he’s been folding. It’s the paper of his notepad folded into a ring—a paper ring.

“Do it again,” you say with a beam that could rival the stars. “Ask me again.”

Alastor caresses your cheek, the back of his finger brushing down your skin. “Doting husband?”

“Exactly,” you say with a laugh and lean into his touch. “You catch on very quickly.”

Alastor takes your hand in his, and his thumb brushes over your ring finger. Does he feel your skin the way you feel his? He kneels on one knee and the paper ring is presented to you. “Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

You insert your ring finger into the paper ring. “The honor would be mine, my dearest.”

Alastor stares at you.

You stare back.

 The moment your eyes settle on one another, laughter echoes across the land. It’s loud and breathy, and it echoes so far that the local wildlife gets disturbed. Alastor settles back on his chair, rocking himself.

Alastor calms down first. “Oh . . . uh . . . Should we share a passionate kiss?”

The stars shine above you. Not a single gas ball can beat the brightness of your smile. “Do you want to?” you ask. “Be honest, my dear.”

Alastor hesitates for a second. “Not particularly—Do you?”

“Maybe? Sometimes?” you say with a shrug. “I could live a happy life without such passionate kisses.”

“Really?” he says, and the surprise in his voice makes you laugh. “You would be fine without one?”

“Well, since you’re so insistent, I’ll allow a kiss.”

Alastor snorts into the air. “And where and when would you want such a kiss?”

You hold him in your gaze. There’s so much to learn, so much to figure out. It’s alright. There will be time. “Anywhere and anytime, you want, my love.”

“You’re going to give me control?” he asks. “Is this not something you would want as well?”

“I’ll make this easy enough for you to understand,” you tell him, tracing the paper ring around your finger. “I demand a kiss whenever you are completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.”

Alastor hums, looking away to study the woodcarving on his chair. He picks on them. “I supposed if you need anyone to fulfill your needs I only as—”

“Just say sex, my dearest,” you say, and Alastor sinks into his chair with a huff. “That will never happen. This isn’t a friendship, my love. I am entering a relationship with you. No matter how unconventional, it is still ours.”

Alastor locks your eyes with a pleased smile. “Good.”

The rocking chair rocks you into a small lull. “My dear.”

“Yes?”

“My love.”

Alastor sighs. “Yes?”

“My dearest,” you say. “Would you want to share a bed?”

Alastor stays silent. There’s hesitation on his face. You see it in the way his lips twist. You see it in the way his eyebrows furrow. You see it in the way he leans back on his chair to stare at the stars.

“Okay then, we can circle back to that later,” you say with a soft chuckle. “How about a room—Do you want to share one?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows, staring at you with silent judgment. He is a book that you are allowed to learn. There’s so much to read, and so much still left to be read. That’s okay. There’s time. No matter how long. You have time.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, we can share a room without sharing a bed,” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. “We can even have bunk beds. That would be cool. I’ve always wanted a bunk bed.”

Alastor rests his face on his palm to look at you. There it is again, the breathy and light laughter. “We are not sleeping on a bunk bed.”

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Charlie’s smile slowly morphs into a frow that you cannot decipher. It makes sense that you can’t. Afterall, she is not the book you’ve spent your life learning to read. “You . . . You don’t actually love each other?”

There’s a frame hanging on your kitchen wall that says otherwise.

It holds an art piece you embroidered for the sole purpose of giving it to your husband. The color of the wooden frame compliments the colors of the thread as if it was carefully chosen to match. The one here in the kitchen is but one of many frames around the house. Alastor keeps every single item safe beneath the glass to to be admired.

There’s a shelf standing on the living-room carpet that says otherwise.

It holds ugly knick knacks that Alastor bought for the sole purpose of giving it to his wife. It’s a pain to dust the shelves, but not a speck of dirt touches its surface, as if it was carefully taken care of. The one in there in the living-room is but one of many shelves around the house. You keep every item spotless to be admired.

“We’re not heartless,” you say. “Alastor and I don’t have the same relationship you and your girlfriend have.”

Charlie sways in her seat, a hand rests on her chin when she hums. “ I am so sorry,” he says. “I think it’s great and all that, I’m just having trouble understanding.”

“It’s not exactly for you to understand.” You take a sip from your mug.

“So it’s not a relationship,” Charlie says. “Sooooo, is it like a really really deep friendship?”

“The lines between us are so blurry that it’s become deeper than friendship,” you admit with a small smile. “I just know that my soul is connected to him in ways I do not know how to tell him.”

“Is that really possible?” Charlie asks. “To just . . . love each other so differently?”

“Can our relationship not just . . . exist?” You lean on your palms. “Do you really think it’s so impossible for two people to just . . . to just look forward to cooking and washing the dishes together?”

Charlie’s eyes brighten. “I think I’m starting to understand,” she says. “So like—”

“Charlie . . . if I sit here and answer all of your questions, we’re going to waste time.” You play with the fiddle of your mug. “You didn’t come here for relationship advice.”

“Oh . . . yes.” Charlie sits there. Her smile slowly falls into a frown. “I’ve been thinking of how to convince you to help me, but I can’t think of a single thing to say, and I don’t want to force you either.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You haven’t exactly asked for my help either.”

Charlie blinks at you. “ . . . Huh?”

You raise your mug to toast to her. “If you want my help, just ask for it.”

Charlie grabs your hand with a tight grip. “Please, help me,” she says, voice shaking. “I don’t want to drag Cannibal Town into an all-out war without knowing there was a way to keep them safe.”

“Sure, why not?” You pull your hand away.

A loud squeal bounces off the walls.

Charlie pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. She hauls you with all the strength of a hellborn princess.  Your feet drag against the floor as she pulls you out of the kitchen and into the living-room.

Charlie drops you with a wince on her face. She stares at the broken window, and the obviously missing television.

You trip out of her hold.

Alastor wraps his hand on your shoulders, steading you against him until you find your balance. His touch lingers on you.

The television shaped hole on your glass window makes your eyes twitch.

Alastor steps away from you, twirling his microphone. It strikes the floor with a harsh thunk. “Oh, yes that,” he says. “It seems there was an unfortunate accident.”

“Oh, really now?” you say, placing a hand on your hips. “I would love to know exactly how that happened.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and his arms wave the air. “The clumsy boxed tripped right out the window.”

Your smile strains. “That is rather unfortunate,” you say. “What a shame, I rather liked that television. It’s been a constant companion, and never has it once disappeared on me for several years.”

Alastor glares at you.

You glare back.

“I would love to help you clean this mess,” Alastor says with that triumphant smile of his.

Would a second broken window be worth trouble if it means there would be an Alastor-shaped hole?

“Perfect!” you say. “I’m sure you still remember where we keep the broom.”

Alastor boops your nose. “Unfortunately, the cannibals will be meeting us at the hotel,” he says. “I think it’s time we take our leave. Say goodbye to my wife, Charlotte.”

Charlie opens her mouth to correct him. She changes her mind at the last minute, choosing to sulk with a wave instead.

Alastor opens the door, allowing Charlie to step out first. She strides to the flowerbeds, kneeling to observe the plants.

Alastor stills by the door frame.

He inches close enough for you to reach him. The fabric of his lapels smoothen as you adjust its fit on him.

A breeze tussles Alastor’s hair. You swipe the stray locks, brushing his hair away from his forehead, until . . . until the x that marks the gunshot catches your eyes. Frowning, you thumb the mark, caressing it with oh so soft touches. There was a time where you believed that you and him had all the time in the world. Death laughed at you that night.

Alastor watches you, taking your wrist to pull it away.

He leans closer, and picks a feather on your head. “Will you indulge me?” he asks. “There’s just something I want to ask of you before I leave.”

“Say it, and it will be yours.”

Alastor pokes his cheeks, mimicking a smile. “Just one of these from you will do—Something to power me through the day.”

With a soft chuckle, you widen your lips to show him the brightest smile you can muster. “Is that much better, my love?”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek. “Indeed,” he says. “You’ve been frowning for a while now.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Have I?”

Alastor boops your nose. “You have,” says. “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

“It’s nothing serious to you,” you tell him with a shake of your head. “It’s nothing worth listening to.”

Alastor taps his fingers across his microphone. “It’s not nothing. Especially when you frown like that,” he says. “If it’s serious to you, it is worth listening to.”

“Sometimes . . .I still find myself wondering how you feel,” you say, smoothening the feathers on your head “Even after being married for so long, there are times where I still do not know

“You’re not a mind reader,” he says. “If you want to know, you should just ask.”

“Alright then,” you say with a smile. “How are you feeling today, my love?”

Alastor caresses your cheek. The back of his fingers brush down your skin until it hooks around your chin. You tilt it to the side, offering your cheek, ready for him.

Alastor tugs your chin, adjusting your face until your eyes are drawn into his own. And oh . . . Has he always looked at you like this?

Alastor inches closer, his nose nudging against your own. Your heart thumps in your ear.

A minute has never felt so long as you stay frozen. It’s a whole minute  if his lips brushing inches above yours. It’s a whole minute of his finger stroking the skin of your chin. It’s a whole minute of feeling his breath on your skin. It’s a whole minute where inches of space separate your

Alastor tortures you with the simplest of sensation that intoxicated you to your very core. You don’t move away, not from him—never from him.

Your eyes close when Alastor presses his lips across yours.

The taste of this morning’s coffee is dizzying. The soft tickles of his breath make your fingers curl around the fabric of his coat. You were never a poet. It’s Alastor who was better with his words. You cannot describe the way he kisses you with sweet metaphors or soft analogies.

Alastor pulls away.

You inch closer to chase him, until self-control takes over. It splashes you with the warmth of a bucket filled with ice.

Oh . . . oh.

There are words to be said, questions to be asked. The heat tingling of your cheeks and the electricity buzzing your lips make it hard to find the words.

You bury your face into the fabric of Alastor’s chest, curling into him to hide how red your face flushes. The back of his coat crumples when you grip it.

Alastor wraps his arms around you, tightening the hug. His finger stroke your shoulder blade. “Does that answer your question?”

You inhale into his clothes. It’s warm. He’s warm. So warm that int transfers to you. “No, not at all,” you mumble. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Alastor leans back, pushing you away to search your face.He stares at you.

You stare at everything but him.

Alastor squishes your cheek, giving it a light shake. “Stop demanding things from me when you’re not going to remember.”

“I did no such thing.” You swat his hand away. “Will I be seeing you soon?”

Charlie catches your eyes. She quickly glances away before eventually looking back. You bring out your hand, folding your fingers to indicate the number two. Charlie cringes so deep she creates a double chin.

Alastor brushes feathers out of your face. “You wouldn’t need to ask if you accepted Charlie’s offer to stay at the hotel,” he says. “ I was given a room there. I think you would like it . . . but, there’s still thousands of unused rooms if you wish to stay somewhere else.”

“My deerest, are you asking me to stay at the hotel?”

Alastor’s silence makes you chuckle.

With the tips of your toes, you reach to press a kiss on his cheek. “I will see you soon.”

“You always will.”

Charlie and Alastor leave with a wave. You close the door before they reach the gate, leaning on the door. The wood does little to settle the way your skin buzzes. Demand a kiss? You would never do such a thing.

The clock strikes. It’s time to leave for work. You take your coffee mug, scrubbing it with soap. (If you drop it twice, then that’s your business.) You open the cupboard, placing your matching mug next to Alastor’s clean one.

Today . . . Today will be a good day.

For today, there’s no need to throw away cold coffee mugs.

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Next Part: |Glimpse of Me and You: Part 1| First of all, you will never catch my Alastor cooking jambalaya. It’s a great dish, I know. But I refuse to fall into the curse. Part of the reason why this chapter took so long to publish, besides work getting in the way, was because I didn’t know how I would want Alastor and Reader to love each other. Like do I make it purely romantic?  But I like keeping this as canon as possible. And I know that Alastor is only canonically ace. This problem struck me until I realized that to be accepted is to be loved. So I decided to write a story that will make me happy to show you. There are so many other fics with pure romance, and I wanted to respect Alastor’s asexuality and everyone who relates to him. This is my love letter to him and to you. Also, I’m just going to put it out there, just in case someone might ask why there’s a kiss on the lips? This is a reminder that you can define a relationship any way you could want. I debated whether that kiss should be on the cheek or on the lips. A cheek kiss isn’t inherently romantic, so I could have just done this. The lip kiss just felt…correct. I wanted to showcase that the relationship between Alastor and Reader isn’t a conventional one, and that it’s fine to have one that differs from what is considered normal. So the best way would be to take something that everything thinks is very romantic and twist it in a way that it could mean something different. And thus, any kiss before and after this chapter really just means that Alastor is completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.

Taglist: @mybrainautocorrect @ray-rook @teavibesaf @valentique @qardasngan @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @holymusicialmothman @lyralibra @alastorssimp @aestheticglas-blog @slaggylemon

[pinkthrone445]

~Partner in crime~ Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:soft, cute, young Melissa, friends to lovers, slow burn

Warnings:I don't think so, smut in the next chapter

Summary :When they send you to work back in your home town, you start to recall all your memories from your teen years involving the redhead.

The months continued to pass and your feelings for the redhead grew, it was easier and easier to identify that those nerves when she touched your hand or the way your heart beat every time she paid attention to you was because you were madly in love with her, that was how love felt.

Your little crush on the redhead grew little by little, at every step of your life and every moment you needed her she was there with you and that only made your feelings grow more.

More months passed and your 17th birthday came, and even if you weren't expecting nothing special to happen, Melissa's mom somehow convinced your father to let you go with them to a little road trip for the weekend.

The redhead's mother drove a car with her grandmother and the younger siblings, and in the other car driven by Melissa, you and the older siblings tagged along.

The trip started very early on a Friday and was filled with impromptu road games, radio karaoke, snacks and some naps, along with a few stops at gas stations so you could go to the bathroom and refill supplies.

After several hours, when the sun began to go down, you arrived at the house where you would be staying. The rooms were distributed in an organized way and you ended up sharing with Melissa and one of her older sisters, since a four-room house for eleven people was not enough for everyone to have a private room.

After unpacking the bags, everyone went out to eat a pizza.

Although Melissa's family didn't have a dad present, his absence wasn't noticeable, and even though there were a lot of siblings and they were fighting almost all the time, they were comfortable and fun to be around. They felt more like family than your own home.

After pizza and some ice cream, everyone went home to sleep early since almost everyone was tired from the drive. But you, with how much fun you were having and how peaceful it felt to be away from home, you were not very sleepy, which your friend Melissa immediately noticed and invited you to go to the backyard to see the stars since in this house there was no way to climb to the roof like you did in your house.

After taking a blanket, the two lay down on the grass, enjoying the tranquility and silence of the night, talking about random things

-"Have you thought about what do you want to study now that you are about to finish school?" - You asked and she nodded, very sure of her answer

-"I would like to be a teacher... Help those little kids that sometimes don't know where else to look for help, that's what I want to do... Well, that's my plan unless I win the lottery first" - she jocked and you laughed - "What about you?" - she turned her body to face you

-"I would like to be a cop..." - you murmured and she opened her eyes big

-"What?! A pig!? Come on! Don't do this please" - she couldn't contain herself and you frowned

-"I wanna help the helpless, I wanna be a good cop... Change the system from inside out. Protect people..."-your voice was smaller every time a word came out of your mouth, her approval was important to you, more important than everyone else's. She saw the shame in your eyes, trying to avoid looking at her because she wasn't very supportive of the idea

-"Hey kiddo...I'm sorry... You're very brave and I'm proud of you, I'm sure that everything you want to do, you will be the best at it and you will do everything right... You will be the first cop that my family actually like" - she jocked a little and you smiled again-"Come here"-She moved a little closer to you and hugged you to her chest protectively. It was a very intimate and safe moment but at the same time so fragile that you were afraid that someone or something would burst that perfect little bubble of perfection-"You need to follow your dreams, and I know it sounds cliché, but never let someone make you doubt about your dreams and goals, not even me. Support is important and I know it, but I also know that you are strong enough to fulfill your dreams even when you are alone or when you have the whole world against you... I can't wait to watch you be the best version of yourself, being free doing what you dream... I will be here rooting for you forever... I will be your number one cheerleader and your partner in crime if you need to kill someone...I will forever be by your side"-Although she was joking, what she said hid much deeper feelings. Her voice grew softer by every word she said and her arms hugged you tighter by every breath she took, like if she wanted to engrave her words on your skin and in your head so you would never dobut yourself and your dreams again, she wanted for you to know that you would never be alone again. Your eyes were watery from everything she was telling you, you carefully hid your face in her neck hugging her tightly

-"Promise?..."-you whisper with a broken voice and she nodded kissing your forehead

-"I promise" - she said without letting you go.

Without realizing it, a few minutes later you had fallen asleep hugging her. You didn't notice it until the next morning when the sun caressed your face. Slowly you opened your eyes to notice that you were in the room sleeping on the chest of the redhead who was going up and down slowly and peacefully. Not wanting to wake her up, you curled up in her chest again. But the beautiful moment was interrupted when you heard footsteps outside the room followed by a soft knock on the door

-"Ragazze... Wake up, we have a reservation for breakfast" - Melissa's mom said from outside the room and you untangle from the redhead to stretch your body a little bit

-"Okey mom, see you downstair" - The redhead talked with a raspy voice stretching behind you, you blushed a little because you thought she was still asleep when you curled in her chest-"Good morning monkey" - she said in a playful tone because how you were hugging her moments before

-"Good morning Mel... Did you brought me here last night?" - You asked and she nooded

-"Yup, I didn't wanted to wake you. Did you had a good night sleep?" - she asked and this time you nodded-"That's exelent... Now let's get ready, mom doesn't like to wait" - she got up from the bed after kissing your forehead and went to the drawers to pick something to wear.

When you were ready, Melissa's mother got in the car with you, ready to drive you to the reservation. For a moment it seemed strange that no one else from the family were on the house, but her mother explained to you that they had already left there earlier so you wouldn't lose the reservation.

After a few minutes in the car, you arrived at a small party hall with a large park and decorated tables, confused you got out of the car and Mel took your hand smiling, looking at her mother as an accomplice of something, which made you more confused. Before you could ask about the place, Mel's entire family and some of your old friends where you lived before came out of the small building carrying balloons and a beautiful cake decorated with your name on it

-"Happy 17 birthday (Y/N)!" - Everyone screamed at the same time taking you by surprise. You were so surprised that you even stood in the same place unable to react. It wasn't until your eyes scanned the crowd, that your eyes started to water so much making it impossible to stop, in the middle of it all of them you saw your grandmother sitting in a wheelchair holding a couple of balloons in her hands, with the brightest smile you'd ever seen, the same smile your mother had when she was alive. Before you knew it, you were already running and kneeling at her feet so you could hug her with all your love

-"Abu... What are you doing here? How? I missed you so much" - You said between sobs and she hugged you tightly letting the balloons go

-"My baby... I missed you so much, you look so big and pretty... Your friends somehow got a permit to take me out for the day so I could see you, this is all I wanted, seeing you again and be together on your birthday... I'm so glad to see that you have someone taking good care of you... I love you so much, you look just like your mother, I'm so proud of the young lady you have become"-she kissed your forehead and hugged you again.

After a few more moments of hugging your grandmother, you ran to hug the redhead, her mother and her grandmother thanking them for what they had done for you. You never imagined that they would remember your birthday, much less that the reason for the trip was to be able go to the city where you grow up to take your grandmother out of the residence so she could be present on your birthday 

-"How did you manage to pull this off? How did you take her here?" - You asked still with teary eyes of happiness

-"We know a guy"-that's all the explanation you got from the redhead's grandmother.

The party was full of food, games, music and people you loved, it was perfect.

It lasted late into the night, it was so perfect that no one wanted to go home and although it was hard for you to say goodbye when your grandmother was taken back to the residence, you were so grateful to have had her at your party.

You and Mel took her back and you were able to hug her a little more before saying goodbye.

Your grandmother thanked the redhead for everything she had done for you and asked her to take care of you, which she assured her she would do.

When you were about to get in the car, your face hurt from smiling so much and you couldn't avoid hugging the redhead again to thank her. But the excitement played against you, because before you could think about what you were doing, you grabbed her cheeks and kissed her.

Melissa froze for a few seconds, but when you were about to pull away in panic, she grabbed your blouse in her hands preventing you from moving away and kissed you back. You couldn't help but close your eyes enjoying her lips on you, letting your hands travel down her neck and play a little with the hair that held her tie.The redhead tried to move away from your lips a little to get some air after a few seconds of kissing, but you didn't let her and started giving small and short kisses on her lips, not wanting to be separated from her

-"Honey... What are you doing?" - she asked between kisses and cute laughs

-"This feels so good" - You said kissing her back

-"Kissing? Haven't you kissed before?" - she asked confused

-"I have, but it has never felt this good... I don't wanna stop" - You said bitting her a little bit and she couldn't avoid letting a small whimper go out. Her hands caressed your waist

-"I don't wanna stop either, you feel too good" - she said kissing you again.

[billthedrake]

MY SON THE PORN STAR (PART FIVE)

I tried not to go wild. I still was married and still had my normal corporate guy life in Kansas City.

But doing porn turned out to be addictive. It was the combination of a deep exhibitionist streak I was discovering in myself and the access to incredibly hot men willing to suck me or get fucked by my big tool. It made me feel like a total stud... less middle-aged, I guess.

And work trips were the perfect cover. I really was doing the road warrior thing for my company, so I wasn't lying to Kate THAT much. But I did sometimes add a night to my travels.

Like the week after Easter. I had a business trip to Denver, but I added an extra evening and squeezed in a quick connector flight to San Francisco on my dime with miles. Muscle Pup Mike, my son's friend and escort/pornstar buddy, set me up with a versatile OnlyFans star there. I shot two scenes with him, actually, one oral, one with me masked as we had a nice, long 50-minute fuck scene. I didn't feel a deep chemistry with Kevin, aka "Jeff Reed," but I felt a deep chemistry with the two cameras that were on us. Besides, sex with a muscular 28-year-old hunk was hard to beat.

Turns out, the next night would beat it. I flew to Denver bright and early in the morning and had my sales meeting all day. I was rolling my business-style carry on into my hotel room right around dinner. I undid my tie and sat down to unlace my shoes before calling Kate to check in.

Yeah, I felt pretty bad knowing I was stepping out behind her back. I'd deal with that guilt later. Either stopping porn cold turkey or making a break or separation with my wife. At this point I wasn't ready to do either.

I wasn't a frequent poster, but managed a video every 2-3 weeks. And I had a growing following of fans willing to pay a modest subscription for just that. Sure, I got some comments complaining that I never took my mask off, but apparently I had the body and blond-furred looks a lot of guys went for. And my cock size helped - a lot. I was careful about not talking on camera, or I just edited those parts out, but I'd learned to be verbal with my grunts, to show appreciation for my sucker/bottom and to let viewers get that thrill. It worked.

I sat, alone in that quiet hotel room, thinking just how wild my double life had become, and I fiddled with my phone again. Chicago was an hour ahead and now would probably be a good time to call. I pulled up Travis's contact and FaceTimed him.

"Hey Dad," my son greeted.

"Hey," I said, leaning back and feeling my boner ride up in the crotch of my trousers. "I didn't catch you at a bad time, I hope?"

"Nah," he said. "Just getting back from the gym." Indeed, he had a workout zip-up on and I could see the familiar kitchen from his condo in the back.

"All sweaty?" I teased.

That got a laugh out of my son. He was surprised how horny I was sometimes, how much I'd leaned into this weird affair we had going on. "Something like that. How'd your shoot go?"

"Real well," I replied. "Kevin is a real professional. Made it easy."

"Just a professional?" Travis asked, with a teasing smile on his cute face.

"Just fucking," I said. "Not a ton of chemistry, I'm afraid, but I think I got some good footage for the next two vids." I'd always sent Travis the digital files via encryption, and he did the editing magic on the material. As amazing as my son was at being on-screen talent, he also had a knack for making great porn behind the camera.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Dad," he said. "But I think you're a natural adult performer."

I smiled. "Is that what the kids call it?" I joked.

That made my son laugh. I loved seeing and hearing his laugh. "OK... you're a natural porn star, Dad.... You know, it's really hot to say that. I get so hard watching you perform, you know."

My throat got dry. Travis knew how to work me up. "Jesus, Trav. You have no idea how much I've watched your videos."

That made my son laugh again, those dimples forming. "I have a pretty good idea, Dad. You've told me before."

"I lied," I teased. "I figured if I told you the real number, you'd get freaked out."

"Turned on is more like it, Dad," Travis said. "Why don't you show me how much you like em. You hard now?"

"Rock hard," I said. I turned the phone down to show off the rod forming a ridge in my trousers.

"Fuck," Travis hissed. "My dad has a real porn star dick. I have a shoot in a couple of hours. I'll definitely be thinking of your cock."

"Who's it with?" I asked. This was the wild phase Trav and I were at now. Father and son, lovers, flirts, and professional colleagues in the adult entertainment business.

"Bud and Spike," he said. I recognized the screen names of two muscle daddies from Dallas, into the more hardcore stuff.

I made a wince of an expression. "Go easy with those guys, buddy," I said. "For real." I felt strangely protective of my son. Which was weird, because in general he was the one looking out for me as I began doing porn more regularly.

Travis smiled. "I will, Dad. Promise. We're planning a more vanilla scene than they normally do." He gave me a wink. "Listen, I gotta go get ready, actually."

"All right, buddy," I said. I wished we had time for some phone sex because just talking to Travis was turning me on big time. "I can't wait to see your scene. And I'll be in Chicago in a couple of weeks. We'll catch up then, OK?"

"You bet, Dad," he said. "Love ya."

"Love ya, too, Big Guy."

We hung up.

I let out a hiss of air. I was horny now. Turns out "Jeff Reed" hadn't drained me. I did have a back up idea. There was some University of Colorado kid who'd been emailing me on the anon account Travis set up for me and linked to my OnlyFans. Call me a narcissist, but I'd been eating up the fan mail, and something about this college dude Bryan won me over. Maybe it was the pics he sent. Cute as fuck, brown haired, boy-next-door looks. And the nude pics that showed a surprisingly built body for a college kid - either a jock or someone who hit the college gym regularly. Smooth body with just a dusting of a treasure trail, creamy white skin, washboard abs, hard cock, amazing bubble ass.

Or maybe it was the request that I hit him up if I was ever in the Denver area.

So far I'd only done pro-amateur porn stars in the OF circuit my son and MusclePup Mike worked in. Some of it was the self-justification that it wasn't fully emotional cheating, just porn I was doing. Some of it was caution. All the arrangements went through Mike and because of my mask, no one knew my identity.

But I was horny now and sent this Bryan kid a message. I didn't expect a reply, but it was worth a shot. I set down my phone and undressed to take a quick shower. It was only 6:30, but it had been a long day.

There was a message waiting for me. "God yes, man," Bryan wrote. "I could be there in about an hour and a half," he wrote. Then almost nervously, there was a follow up. "God, I must seem overly eager. But fuck you're so hot. Let me know what works for you."

"How bout 8:30?" I typed back and gave my hotel name and room number. I wanted to get some food in me.

"Awesome. Yeah. See you soon," came the almost immediate reply.

I had only business casual clothes packed, so I got dressed to grab a bite at a restaurant near my hotel. I got back to my room with about ten minutes to spare. I brushed my teeth and checked my appearance in the mirror. I wasn't crazy about getting older, I had to admit, but I could see the "DILF" look that Travis and Mike were always raving about. Well-preserved was the expression, I suppose.

I was actually a little nervous when I heard the knock. I had no business fooling around with a guy like this. Not making a porn vid but actually having a cheating hook up. The messed up thing is that most guys would consider the videos a worse infraction, but this felt naughtier in a way.

Bryan looked great. Better than great. He was cuter than his pictures, and I think his nerves made him more attractive to me. He forced a smile but was shaking.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," I smiled. "Come in, bud."

He was shorter than me, and his size made his collegiate muscle look more compact on his build. Maybe not collegiate wrestler exactly, but definitely that wrestler body type. A little thick, even. MusclePup Mike would have called him a twunk.

"I didn't know what you'd look like," Bryan said softly. His gray eyes were taking me in.

I remembered now he'd never seen me outside of my videos, all masked up. "You came over anyway," I observed.

"Oh yeah," he enthused. "You're my favorite porn star, hands down." He blushed but didn't stop gushing. "You probably know this... I guess most guys don't pay to watch your videos, but I subscribed to your site so I could email you."

"For real?" I laughed.

"Yeah," Bryan replied, that nervous smile growing bigger. "You're not on Twitter or Insta," he explained. His eyes swept up and down my frame. "God, you're even hotter in person. I knew you'd be hot, but... wow."

I was eating up his flattery. "You're not so bad yourself, buddy... bring it in..." I held up my arms to gesture him to come in for a kiss. He did. He was nervous and that turned me on for some reason. But once we started making out, Bryan got real into it, meeting my tongue with his, before practically sucking me into his mouth.

His hands were feeling it up, tentatively at first, then all over. He chuckled as he pulled back so he could feel me up better. I stood there and let his hands roam over my button-down shirt and the gym-toned muscle underneath. At that moment I was VERY glad for the personal trainer Travis set me up with.

"I hope you don't mind my saying," Bryan said, "But it's so wild to be with a porn star."

"Don't mind at all, buddy," I hissed. I was now experiencing the other thrill of doing porn. I knew I was into the exhibitionism of it all, but now I was feeling the hero worshop, the adoration of a young guy like this. I was rock hard.

He gulped as I reached down to undo my khakis, unzipping them and reaching in to haul out my dong. "I guess you really like my cock, then, huh?" I growled.

This wasn't me. At least it wasn't Brad Connors. Married father of three. Road warrior corporate guy. But being MaskedDaddy gave me the sexual confidence and freedom to be someone else.

"Fuck yeah," Bryan gasped as he saw my prick. "That cock's so fucking big..." His eyes were wide, taking in my size before he looked up at me. "OK, if I touch it?"

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, buddy," I said. "That's why you came over isn't it?"

He nodded, like a chastised kid. Then tentatively he stepped in again and reached forward, like he was afraid of being branded by a hot poker. But once his fingers made contact, the hesitation was gone. The college dude circled his fingers and round me, griping my hardon and gently stroking a couple inches of it to get a feel of the girth and heft. "You don't know how much I've jerked off to your videos," he said. "I wasn't gonna admit to that you, but fuck...." His voice was heavy in his ragged breathing but still had that frat-bro collegiate kind of tone.

"I think we talked about you sucking that dick," I grunted. In our texts, Bryan had offered a blow job, and his presence now was making me really want this. In a surprising way, his realness was making me click with the college kid more than I did with a megahot porn star. Maybe it was the opposite of what Bryan was feeling, where he was living out his porn dream.

"Yeah," he nodded. But he gave me a sheepish shrug. "I, um, don't have a lot of experience."

I patted his cheek. "Give it your best, bud. Please. Daddy's really fucking horny." Yep, this was porn me talking, but it was the magic words for Bryan, who couldn't get down on his knees fast enough.

The young stud actually whimpered as he pulled my dick to his face and began licking it. It was slobbery and impetuous, and his attempt to take me into mouth was more urgent than skilled.

"Easy, buddy..." I urged as he choked a little on my size. "Daddy's got a big cock... take your time."

He nodded and moaned around my prick, flashing those gray eyes up, a little teary. Fuck.

I wouldn't say he got the hang of, but he got a lot more comfortable. Slowly, he sucked me, a few inches at a time, working up the focus to get an extra one back into his throat. The young dude was so excited to blow me, and I was loving this. Slowly I stroked his hair and encouraged him. "That's it, sport... you don't need the training wheels do ya? You go right for the big ones. OH FUCK, that feels nice."

"Yeah?" Bryan asked as he spit out my cock and swallowed the excess spit. I could tell he wanted to make sure he was sucking me right, but more than that he struck me as a young man who craved positive feedback in sex.

"You're doing great, buddy," I said.

There was something about this connection which was night and day different than "Jeff Reed." Bryan was a real guy, a college stud eager for me and not just playing out sex for the camera. And yet...

"You interested in filming this, Bryan? It's SO hot to watch you, buddy."

I could see two reactions in his face at once. A fearful shock at the idea. And an excitement to even consider it. "Oh man," he responded, not giving me a hint which one was the bigger emotion.

I slowly stroked my rod in front of his face, working in his spit over my dong and letting it get steel hard for his gaze. I had toyed with using viagra for my shoots, but even with my size I didn't have an issue getting real hard erections like this. I just loved sex too much.

"If it helps, I packed a spare mask," I offered.

Maybe another dude would have wondered why I had a mask with me, much less more than one mask. But Bryan had been used to seeing me in one, so maybe it just seemed normal to him.

"This is crazy," he said, his fearful look breaking into a smile.

"Is that a yes or a no?" I asked, gently tapping his cheek with my dong.

"Yes," he muttered excitedly before taking ne into his mouth once more.

I let him work me for a few seconds then pulled back. I went to my carryon back and retrieved the masks. I wouldn't need one, I suppose, but I tossed both over Bryan's way while I got my portable tripod, a compact digital camera, and a spare cameraphone, an old Iphone I used for extra handheld footage.

I was worried I was killing the mood setting everything up and fiddling with the lights. But I loved shooting porn, and if anything my dick was harder in anticipation with shooting a different kind of scene. Me with an amateur costar. Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced I just knew this would be a hot video. And if not, I'd enjoy jerking off to it.

Fortunately, Bryan seemed excited too. I could see the excitement in his eyes, even behind the mask. He'd taken his shirt off, maybe to be less identifiable but was on his knees still, hands braced on his thighs. "I can't believe I'm going to be in one of your vids," he said. Yeah, the dude was into this.

I sauntered back, my dick leading the way. "If you're not comfortable with the results, we don't have to post anything," I said, remembering how important that veto power was for my comfort level for my first vid with my son. "Otherwise, I'll take this as your consent."

"Got it," he nodded.

The second his lips touched my prick again, I let out a gasp. He looked up at me, excited, and I took in his green eyes looking up through the mask holes. I pointed the phone camera at him to capture that. I wasn't gonna shoot that angle the whole time, since I preferred to enjoy getting head instead of playing cameraman the whole time. But the snapshots of him looking up would add to the effect.

Bryan's technique wasn't better this time, but his enthusiasm had tripled, at least. I set down the phone and eased my stance back, my posture upright. I was still in my business casual attire as this horny college kid blew me. I urged him to go slower at first with a quick deep grunt.

I heard the guy moan around my meat as something relaxed in his throat and he was able to more steadily take more of my dong into his throat. Working me up and down, I reached behind his head and massaged his scalp through the mask, gently urging him deeper.

"Yes," I choked in response. "Suck me." I'd gotten pretty good at deguising my voice. Using my porn voice. "Suck Daddy."

That did it. Bryan pulled off for a quick breath, then descended all the way down. I'm a big guy, and even some of the OnlyFans studs had a hard time swallowing my sword. But they weren't feeling the crazy sexual thrill this kid was.

He held a second then it was too much, and he pulled off with a sputtering cough. I could see his eyes watering even through the mask holes.

"Sorry," he breathed, as he tried to regain composure.

"It's OK... take your time," I said in my normal voice. Travis would have to edit that out. All for the best. I gave Bryan a second to catch his breath and then I leaned down and met him for a sensual kiss.

"You're doing real good," I said. Then leaning up, I offered my hard dong again. It had gone down a little, but was still pretty heavy. "Ready for more?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah," he said, his gray eyes looking back up at me.

His mouth on me got me rock hard once more. I pulled out some to let the camera catch my full hardon, then pushed back in between his wet lips. Bryan was novice, but that was OK. I was turned on from a change of pace from the OnlyFans dudes. This was a real guy, young and eager. I let him suck and get into sucking.

"Yeah," I grunted, I ran my fingers through his hair again and took the chance to push him down on my meat some more.

Byran was up for the challenge. He grunted around my prick but his throat relaxed and swallowed more of my thickness.

I started cumming. I wanted to ride out the orgasm in his college kid's throat but instead I pulled out and shot a couple of jets onto his mask and his lips before pushing back in just a few inches to let him suckle the remaining dribbles of semen.

I caught my breath a half second then picked up the cameraphone again. I hadn't taken too much handheld footage, so now I got a good view of Bryan slurping on my sated meat, licking up and down and outright worshipping my cock. Thankfully I wasn't too sensitive after nutting, and even if I lost a little of my rigidity, my dick kept a heavy firm meatiness that looked good.

I finally pulled back and turned both cameras off. "You were amazing, buddy," I said with a smile.

Already Bryan was pulling his mask off. I was glad. The guy was real fucking cute. "Dream come true for me," he said.

I could tell he was still horned up and at full sexual arousal from servicing me. "Get on the bed, kiddo," I urged. "Lie back."

He didn't seem to know what was going on but he complied. His body was shaking some as I undid his jeans and yanked them down.

"What are we gonna do?" he asked with some apprehension. Still he raised each leg to let me pull off his jeans. And his boxers showed a thick boner beneath the cotton.

"Your turn to get off," I said, not really answering his question.

Still, Bryan nodded and hooked his thumbs in the elastic of his boxers to slide them down. I let him take them off as I stepped into the bathroom to get lube out of my toiletties bag.

Bryan was now lying back on the bed, fully naked, his creamy white muscle looking even better than I anticipated now that he was stripped nude.

"You an athlete?" I asked as I flipped open the cap on the lube.

Bryan's eyes were nervously only the lube. I think I knew what he was worried about, and a part of me enjoyed playing with his nervousness. I'll give him credit, he put on a brave face as his eyes met mine to answer me. "Yeah. Wrestling.""

My guess had been spot on. "It shows," I said. "You have an amazing body."

"Thanks," he said, watching me get on the bed, me making a show of drizzling some lube on his hardon. His dick twitched, untouched, he was so turned on. "You have more the football build."

"Baseball was my sport," I answered. "And golf. But my trainer has helped me bulk up."

"You're my fantasy," he said softly. "The whole package. None of the guys know I'm into this, though." I could read in his face that he wasn't sure if he should be getting emotionally open like this.

I patted his thigh and set down the lube on the night stand with my other hand. I was fully dress, with my cock sticking out of the fly of my khakis still. I wasn't sure I wanted to get off again, but I knew I could. Bryan was hot as fuck, and I was grooving on his clear attraction to me.

"A shame," I winked, trying to make the conversation sexy again. "Maybe you could have some fun. With you coach, too."

That got a laugh from him. Bryan had a sexy smile. "I've definitely thought of Coach. A lot."

I rubbed his legs some more more, outright caressing them now. His quads were solid as fuck, hard brawn that contrasted with the soft collegiate fur. I copped a feel of his ball sac, lightly haired and ran my fingers up the lubey length of his shaft.

"Lift your legs, bud," I urged, my tone friendly even as my words were commanding.

He got that deer in the headlights look. "I've never done this," Bryan said softly.

I had a good idea what he meant. "You a virgin?" I asked. My eyes doing their best friendly look I could manage as I played with his hard dick and his balls. Not stroking him, more exploring his rigid younger dick. Getting him excited to play more.

"For fucking, yeah..." he replied. "Sorry."

I don't think I realized till then how much I wanted to tap this hot wrestler's ass. Maybe his innocence was fueling some of my desire, too. "Not gonna do anything you're not ready for buddy," I said. "Come on, just lift your legs for Daddy."

Maybe that was the magic word, because Bryan leaned back and raised his legs up.

"You can pull em back," I instructed, taking a good look before leaning forward and crouching down.

"Holy FUCK!" the kid gasped at the first swipe of my tongue. His hair down there was light, and I enjoyed the contrast with hairier guys or even the OnlyFans dudes who shaved smooth. It was a delight to lick up and down the trench and then focus more on his tight pucker.

"Jesus," Bryan gasped. He wasn't naturally verbal, but I could tell his mind was being blown. Surprised, maybe a little ticklish but he definitely loved getting rimmed.

I pulled back. That ring was drum tight all right. It made me realize I'd never eaten out a cherry hole before. My son's certainly wasn't virgin. "Go ahead and stroke off," I urged. I relished the ability to speak in my normal voice now that the cameras were off, even as some of my Masked Daddy persona came out anyway. "I want you to come kiddo."

I watched as he excitedly gripped his boner and start to stroke it. Then I dove back in. Not just rimming but fully eating him out, munching the tightness of his asshole.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," the kid gasped. I knew his orgasm was starting. I held onto the back of his meaty thighs and even pushed back a little to angle him perfectly to got to town with my tongue and my sucking mouth.

"NMNGGH!" came the grunt of his cum. Bryan's whole body was tensing up and I knew he was giving up his load in a big way.

Indeed as I pulled back I saw that beautiful creamy white wrestler muscle sprayed with splotches of his sperm. I began licking it up off his abs and chest, saving it in my mouth before I finally met him in a kiss to share it.

The snowballing caught him by surprise but he was way into it, accepting his own cum then pushing it back into my mouth, our tongues working it back and forth and frothing it up with our own saliva.

He had a big, content smile on his face when finally parted, swallowing what little seed was left on our tongues. "I thought..." he started then stopped himself.

"I know, buddy," I said. I patted his chest gently. "I won't lie... I came THIS close to pushing your boundaries."

He nodded, emotionally raw. I could tell he half wanted me to. But only half. "I know. I don't know how, but I could tell."

His hand reached up and ran along my arm through my button down shirt. "I'll probably be kicking myself for not going all the way. But I wasn't ready," he said.

"It was all great, buddy," I assured him.

"I should go," he said. "I got a long drive back to Boulder."

I pulled back and gave him one last pat as I eyed up his nakedness one more time. Bryan was the real deal. Not a "jock" for pay. I felt a strange emotional connection even with the sexual chemistry. I'd have to process why I was feeling that.

For now, I let him up and I went to piss while he got dressed again. When I stepped back from the bathroom, he was mostly dressed again, and had a dreamy, moody expression.

"Thanks for that... fuck I don't even know your name."

"Will 'Daddy' do?" I asked with a wink.

"Guess it will have to," he said with resignation. "You've made my dream come true."

I stepped up for a final kiss, then I showed him to the hotel room door.

***

I was glad Bryan didn't sleep over. I needed a good rest and I had a busy schedule with my client visit the next day.

It felt like naughty fun messaging Bryan when I got a chance, though. It started off with "had a great time" kind of texts, but Bryan admitted how he wished he'd gone all the way.

"Maybe if you're in town again, I'll have the courage," he admitted.

"I'm in town another night if you manage to get that courage, kiddo."

There was silence on his end. Like an hour and a half before I got another text, and even then it was a half hour before I had a break after my afternoon presentation.

"Sorry," Bryan wrote. "Was in class and my prof goes apeshit if we're on our phones LOL."

I texted. "I worried I'd spooked you."

This time the reply was quicker. "Dude, you don't know how horny I've been all day. You're definitely not spooking me."

I bit my lip and looked around. I probably looked like I was doing business texts on my phone. But fuck I was getting horny too. Somehing about this Bryan kid got under my skin. "Is that a yes?" I wrote. "You gonna give me your cherry?"

I was pushing boundaries now for sure, but Bryan seemed up for it now, more than the previous night. "I wanna. Yeah."

"Daddy wants to get in your hole SO bad, buddy." Then, "I'll go easy on you."

"God yes," came his reply. "I'm hard as fuck now."

God this was gonna happen. One more boundary to push. "Will you let me fuck you on camera?"

There was a pause now. Then, "Masked?"

"As you like," I wrote, almost hoping Bryan wouldn't wear one, even if I knew he would. To coax him, I added, "I'll tell you my first name if you let me film us."

"Deal. LOL."

I looked up. Folks were filing back into the conference room. I hoped my chubbed cock wouldn't show. "I gotta go. But maybe plan for 8:30? I have a work dinner before."

"God yes. I can't believe we're going to do this."

"We're going to do it, Kiddo." I assured him. "I want you so bad."

I got a blushing emoji in return and had to smile. "All right," he wrote. "Talk later."

I went into my meeting and was able to get my mind off Bryan's creamy smooth wrestler build and his cherry hole. Somehow.

I checked my messages after we wrapped up, before heading off to a business dinner. It was close to my hotel thankfully and these things never ran late. I hoped to see a message from Bryan, but there was nothing.

I did google some instructions for preparing to bottom. With the OnlyFans guys and my own son, that routine was down pat, but a newbie like Bryan could use some guidance, and I wanted the ease and comfort of topping a clean hole. I forwarded the site to Bryan.

I held off to one glass of wine during dinner. I wanted a clear head for later. By 7:40 I'd paid the check on my corporate card and bid good night to my client contacts. I had to laugh at myself by how excited I was to get back to my hotel. I did have time to stop at an office supply store and pick up a spare small camera. I figured this scene would be worth the extra vantage point.

Bryan texted when he was on his way. I stripped down from my business clothes and hung them up in the closet. I was rock hard already, and dripping in anticipation. I hadn't felt this excited since my last time with my son. I took a quick shower and put on the plush hotel robe, tying it to cover up my midsection.

I spent the rest of the time setting up the cameras. The lighting wasn't perfect but it was enough.

The knock made me realize I was a little nervous myself. I'd gotten comfortable doing porn, maybe a little too comfortable, but taking Bryan's cherry felt like a certain responsibility. I wanted it to be an incredible experience for him, and I was realizing I was totally green when it came to easing a guy out of his virginity.

Still, the sight of him made my heart beat. He was just so fucking cute and hunky. Particularly was we realized each other was nervous.

"Hey, Daddy," he said stepping in.

"Brad," I said. "You can call me Brad. Or Daddy," I smirked.

Our kiss was soft, surprisingly soft given the act we were about to do.

"You good for his, buddy?" I asked, running my hands along his outer arms.

He nodded. "I'm nervous as hell, but I'll be kicking myself if I don't do it."

"You feel like stripping down?" I asked. "There's a mask for you on the table."

I pulled mine on and then went around made sure all the cameras were on. I was pleased to see Bryan's naked body, that thick muscle lean and compact with just a dusting of hair. God, even with that build he looked every bit the 20 year old he was. Like I say, the real deal.

And I was doubly pleased to see him throwing hard. That thick five spike standing up from his lightly furred crotch, nerves notwithstanding. I watched him pull on his mask. It was a shame the viewers wouldn't see how cute he was but his body rounded out that college jock look for sure.

I pointed the camera at him. "So... we're about to have sex for a video that will be released through OnlyFans. Do you agree for me to share what I film?"

I half expected some questions, but he just nodded. "Yes."

"Good boy," I said with a laugh. That made Bryan chuckle, too, which made me glad. "Why don't you lie on the bed, face down?"

I could sense his nervousness. Maybe he anticipated face to face for his first time. "Don't worry buddy, I'll ease you into this."

He nodded silently and then complied, walking over to the hotel bed, while I filmed him with his natural jock gait. It was hot as fuck, seeing him strut and that ass of his work. Then his full body stretching out face down.

The other cameras would get a good angle - one angled on each side nightstand, the other from behind where I stood, just a little off to the side. I held the camera phone as I stepped closer, letting the camera rove over his strong back and amazing ass, up and down his legs. Maybe more jock-worship footage than we'd use, but Travis could work his magic.

Finally, I stepped back and propped the camera phone off to the side. maybe it would work for another angle. Bryan turned back to look at me, and I got off on how his back muscle flexed with his motion. Stepping up, I ran my hands along his calves, working up the length as I climbed on the bed.

I knew I'd be in good view of the cameras now as I kissed from one side of his hamstrings to the other knotted leg. I took my time working my way up.

Bryan was ready for the rim job now. Hiking his ass up, he parted his legs enough to let me in. My hands gripped his buns and did the rest.

The college kid's sigh was deep and sexual as I began licking. I wanted to put on a show. I loved rimming a guy and sometimes felt there was never enough of it in porn videos. It was always a quick lick before the top was lining up. I went full in now, eating out Bryan for a solid five to ten minutes, alternating speed and tonguework. Sometimes Bryan relaxed and let me do my magic, sometimes he bucked up against my face to maximize the contact.

I pulled back and with a hungry growl gave him a light pat. "Turn over," I urged in my deeper voice. Spittle wetted down the chin of my mask. I really wished he and I could do it without these, but the masks allowed us to fuck on camera, both of us.

I was amazed to see Bryan's prick hard and leaking clear sap everywhere. He was majorly turned on. I pulled up enough to let the cameras get a good view of his ripped, modestly jacked body.

"How many guys have fucked you?" I asked tersely. I sure hoped the "MaskedDaddy" voice was enough fo a disguise.

Bryan didn't change his voice, but his soft response was sexy as hell. "No one yet," he said.

I leaned in and kissed him. Just enough sexual urge, and enough romantic finesse. Bryan responded in turn, sucking my tongue into his mouth and moaning against me. He was nervous, sure, but also getting the case of the major horns.

I loved this, putting on a show and yet connecting one-to-one with this fine young man. I pulled up and muttered, "nice," patting his chest. I rolled off to the side and undid my robe. My hardon bounded out and both Bryan and the camera could see my exposed body with its blond fur. I pulled him to me and we started making out again.

Silently I guided him down and the kid knew what to do. Slowly he began kissing and worshipping my big prick, wetting it down with his tongue before taking me into his mouth. Practice hadn't made perfect, but he was getting much more accustomed to my size and better at blowing me.

I was determined not to get overheated. I just lay back and enjoyed this, the sensation of Bryan's soft, slow blowjob and the view of his nakedness kneeling in front of me in servicing position.

Soon, though, it was feeling too good. I nudged him off. He came up to meet me for a kiss, taking the initiative now, until I regained the upperhand in rolling him back on his back, with me on top. I could feel his hardon against mine and the warmth from his body.

Placing my mouth at his ear, I whispered, "You like being a porn star too, dont ya kiddo?"

"Yeah," he grunted back.

I knew I needed to be a little verbal with him. If the camera picked up my words, Travis could edit them out. "You're just about the hottest guy I've ever fucked, Bry."

His body actually shivered at that. The time seemed ripe. I lifted off and leaned over to pump out some lube.

He let out a hiss of air the second my greased fingers touched his pucker but he didn't flinch. Instead he spread his legs and looked into my eyes. This was gonna be good.

I pushed a digit in. Bryan was real fucking tight. But I worked him slowly. Back and forth, in and out.

"Another," I said curtly.

"God," he hissed as I penetrated him with two fingers. It wasn't bad-uncomfortable for him, but it was certainly unfamiliar to him. We stood still eyes locked, him lying back, me between his legs. Until I started finger fucking him again. I applied more lube and fingered him some more.

Finally I pulled back and removed my robe entirely, slipping it off my body and tossing it aside. Bryan's hands were on me, excited to feel up my DILF body. I let him. Between his attention and the cameras I was getting real excited. I was the one dripping now. I caught a thick thread of precum in my fingers and brought it down to his virgin hole. I fingered him up with that too.

The third finger was slow going, but I got him to relax.

"No rubber?" I have asked and half said.

"No sir," came his excited reply.

I was gonna get blue balls soon if I didn't fuck. I scooted up and pressed my prick head in place. I pressed super slow against his ring, working against the spit-slick tightness and smearing my precum against him.

I could feel Bryan's body shake beneath me, and he looked up, a real deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes beneath the mask. I worried if I waited longer his nerves would get the best of him. I pushed in.

"UNNH!" he whimpered loudly. I felt bad the entry hurt and bad that he was doing his bravest to pretend it didn't.

"Easy, bud..." I hissed, reaching down to run my hands along his hot body. This fine young man was giving me a major gift. My prick jerked an inch or two inside him, feeling the tightness of his ass clamping down on him, as I held still, then gave the shallowest of thrusts, back and forth more than in and out.

I looked at him, trying to communicate silently. Then I leaned in, pushing his legs back with my body. "You're doing good," I said.

We kissed. My cock slipped out of its toe hold but I didn't care. He needed this, and I wanted it. This was about the only time I lost track of the cameras. When I wasn't putting on a show. I connected with this college kid in a deep, soulful kiss. And kissed him som more.

I pulled back. This time I didn't rush, but I didn't delay. I pushed back into him. Bryan somehow trusted me, because his ring gave way more easily. He was virgin tight a few inches inside, but I gently thrust back and forth, working that knot inside him. I pulled out and added more lube. Now showing off for Bryan and the cameras both. Then I placed his ankles on my shoulders.

"OOH FUCK!" Came his cry when I broke through. But he wasn't in pain, just overwhelmed by feelings he didn't have word for. I plowed all the way in and held it. I could see his muscular chest rise and fall, taking deep breaths.

"Got your cherry, kiddo," I hissed.

"Thank you," he actually replied, his voice heavy in emotion. That got me going. My dick felt like stone inside his warm, tight guts.

"Feel good buddy?" My hands massaged his calf muscle as I looked down on him and restrained myself from just plowing his hot ass.

Bryan nodded.

I pulled and out thrust in. Then again. I was fucking for real now. Bryan's first fuck. Maybe more than he bargained for when he came over the previous night. But I knew this was his deep fantasy and why he reached out to me.

I wasn't hard or rough, but I fucked with a steady determination. I wanted to give this kid the best first time experience possible now. I puffed my chest and used more of a swivel action of my hips, in and out, in and out, as my eyes stared down at him. I'd probably read his facial reactions better without the mask, but his eyes and mouth were enough. I was getting to him, hitting that spot.

I paused just a second and reached to pump out more lube. This went onto his prick. He gasped as I slicked him up then got the picture once I pulled my hand away.

I grabbed a pillow and slid it underneath his hips. It made for the perfect angle, and I took quick advantage, resuming my steady plow of Bryan's no-longer virgin hole.

Turns out his masturbation was just what Bryan needed, flipping the switch to full pleasure now.

"Yeah?" I asked. Fucking heavier now.

"Yesss," the college hunk hissed back. He was jerking faster now, not frantically but eagerly and in synch with the fuck.

I saw his pisslit dilate and a clear spurt fly out. Not his ejaculation yet, but the prelude.

"Fuck yes," I grunted, throwing my hips into harder pounding. I was getting close to the finish line, and I wanted to speed up to catch up with this stud.

My harder thrusts felt amazing giving how much his ass was clenching and releasing on my dick spasmodically. But it really made Bryan's prostate sing. His pale skin grew pink and flush and his wrestler muscle tensed up.

"Shit!" he yelled and timed with each shove his nuts gave it up, and his prick spurted heavy ropes of semen over his perfect body.

I went at it even harder, leaning in some, powering my hips in rapid jabs. I didn't say anything but my grunt was unmistakeable as I shoved in and unloaded. My cum threw off my rhythm, but I held deep a second, then my hips jerked involuntarily for another hard shove to discharge my seed deep inside Bryan.

The kid winced at that one, which made me feel bad. I got myself under control and held myself steady, gently massaging his leg and then easing back. He'd been a trooper but now needed a break. I leaned back and showed off my slickened dong, though most viewers eyes would probably be on the cum-covered collegiate muscle of my bottom.

Leaning over I picked up one of the cameras. Time for the money shot.

Even if Bryan wasn't an experienced bottom, he'd watched enough porn to know what I was after. Rather than drop his legs down, he pulled them back, spreading them enough to show me and the camera his fucked and seeded hole. No longer drum tight, it has a slight gape and was thick with my cum. I'd shot a lot.

I got a good shot of it, then angled the camera up to capture his whole ripped and cum-wet body. Nothing would ever top watching my own son in porn, but Bryan was a close second.

I finally set down the phone and pulled off my mask. That was the cue Bryan was waiting for and he eagerly peeled his off.

"You OK, buddy?" I asked. My normal voice returning.

He nodded. "God yeah. I'm so glad we did that."

I gave a sly nod to the camera. "Your first time's preserved as a memento," I said. A little teasing in my voice, but checking in where his head was.

He smiled and god he was so fucking cute with that pearly white smile. "I didn't think I was gonna enjoy it at first," he admitted. "But damn..."

I ran my fingers through the cum that had turned liquidy on his chest. "You shot like gangbusters," I said.

"My cums are pretty big normally," he said. "But your dick did something inside me that made me go wild. I've never felt anything like that."

"I'm glad," I said. I leaned forward for another kiss, this one tantalizingly soft and slow.

Afterward, I let Bryan get up and shower off while I checked my phone. Then I figured I'd join him. The look on his face told me my presence was quite welcome.

"Hey," he grinned, shyly. God, he was star struck and that made me feel like a real stud.

"Hey," I said. Our wet bodies connected and we took the time to soap each other down.

"You married to a man or a woman?" he asked as he nodded to my gold band.

"A woman," I said. "I'm not the best husband."

He gave a nod of acknowledgment. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm glad you share yourself."

"I have news for you kiddo," I said, turning off the water and running my hands over his wet muscled body. "You've shared yourself now, too."

"Still can't believe it," he said. "When will you post it?"

"In a couple of weeks," I said. I wasn't going to bring up Travis or my process for putting the vid together.

His hands reached up to feel my body too, my chest but also my shoulders and arms.

"I'm hard again," Bryan said. "I can't believe it."

"You're 20," I joked. "It happens."

"Yeah," he laughed.

I patted his arm. "Feel like sleeping over?" I asked. "I have a morning flight to catch but you're welcome to stay."

He nodded, like an eager puppy. We dried off and made our way back into the room. I downed a bottled water to rehydrate and tossed him one. "Remind me to tip housekeeping extra," I said as I pulled down the sheets. "We made a fucking mess."

He slipped into the bed next to me. His body was cooler now, and felt great against my warmer bod. We made out. His dick was a spike and I got hard once more, but I wasn't eager for another fuck. And Bryan seemed to go with the flow.

"So..." I finally said. "No longer a virgin..."

"No sir."

"Any regrets?" I asked, leaning back in the bed against the headboard, pulling my hands behind me. Bryan nestled in, resting his head against my upper chest and running his hands along my fur.

"None. It was hot as fuck," he said. "But even if it hadn't been, I just feel relieved, you know?"

"Not exactly," I smiled knowingly.

"Ha," he said, picking up on my meaning. "I'm surprised your so good at breaking a guy in if you're cherry too."

"I'd like to say I had some secret," I admitted, "But I just did what felt right."

Maybe it was the sex. I mean it was getting late, but not that late. Bryan was dozing some as he rested up against me. I ran my fingers through his hair.

"Ready for bed, kiddo?" I asked.

"Yeah, Brad," he said and rolled off to the side.

***

My son did his magic crafting two separate scenes from the footage with Bryan, as well as a very hot teaser. "Taking College Jock's Cherry" was the title of the second. The on-screen chemistry was real, and it was clear that we weren't faking it. I really did take the young dude's virginity on screen.

"God, Dad, this is fucking incredible," Travis said to me on the phone before he posted the scene. "I've shot three times to it."

I smiled. I was in a semi-public place and had to be a little discrete. "I'm very glad to hear that," I smirked. "A little payback to the one you did the other week."

"Bud and Spike?" he asked.

That one was one was OK, but not my favorite. "No, the other one," I said, cagily.

That got a laugh from Trav. "Oh, MiamiMuscles... dude's a crazy power bottom, right?"

"Yeah," I said, my throat getting hoarse with lust I was trying to hide. "I like watching you in action like that."

Travis picked up on my need to be discreet, though he had no constraints on his end. "You prefer watching me fuck, Dad?"

God, my son knew how to drive me crazy. "I do," I admitted.

I detected a hesitation on his end, which wasn't Travis's normal response to anything. He paused. "Dad... you ever think about, you know, me fucking you?"

Just hearing those words were going make me go from chubbed to boned. "It's a little scary to think about," I replied. "But yeah... I do."

"Oh fuck," Travis hissed. Only then did I realize he'd been dreaming of that very act. Topping me. Taking my anal cherry, like I'd done with that Denver kid. It surprised me actually, given our bedroom chemistry with my son bottoming for me, eager for his dad's cock. "We'll talk about it next time, OK?" he said. Not pressuring me but letting me know this was on his mind.

"Yeah," I said. "I'll probably chicken out, son. But I wanna explore the idea." I was nervous just vocalizing this.

"Sure, Dad," Trav said. "God you know I love everything we'd done together. If I were there right now, I'd suck your cock, you know that." My son was getting into deep lust mode now.

"Fuck, Trav, I should probably go," I said. I knew if I kept talking like this, I'd get in trouble. "Later, son?"

"Yeah, Dad," he replied, his voice rich with lust. I knew he was probably going to jack off when I hung up. I was going to find the time myself at the first chance. Pull up one of Travis's videos where he topped and stroke off imagining him pounding me, too.

****

My Denver videos were popular. I wasn't surprised that my fans responded to the realness of them, but I was surprised by the messages I got. They changed my porn career and it's probably not an overstatement to say they changed my life.

The first one came two weeks after the video with Bryan dropped.

"Dear MaskedDaddy, I loved your latest video. God, it's like my deepest fantasy. I'm 23 and live in DC. I don't have that college jock's bod, but I'm working on it. I've been too scared to let a guy fuck me, but if you want to be my first, I'd love to star in one of your vids. I wouldn't even need a mask."

It was a wild email, and I figured the kid's horniness doing the thinking for him. I pawed my crotch and laughed at how forward the offer was. I started to send a polite thanks but no thanks reply.

But then I thought about it, and I figured what the hell. I asked for the young dude's pictures. He was cute as fuck. Not quite as twunky as Bryan but still good looking, kind of that boy-next-door type.

Travis handled the OnlyFans money my site brought in. I didn't do porn for the money, and in any case I didn't want my finances impacted lest Kate find out.

I sent two more texts that night. One to DC guy. "If you're serious, lets plan for something three weeks from now." I knew I had some work travel on the East Coast I could piggy back on.

My other I sent to Trav. "I need your help arranging a DC visit. Gonna pop another dude's cherry."

[aventurineswife]

yk the penacony trailer and at the beginning aventurine was dancing with caelus?

what if reader walks in on him dancing or something :3

-:3 anon

Don’t Stop the Music

Summary: On a quiet, neon-lit street in Penacony, Aventurine steals the show with his charismatic dance performance, dazzling onlookers with sharp, effortless moves (inspired by Michael Jackson). When you stumble across the scene, he draws you into the spotlight, turning a casual encounter into a playful and unforgettable duet. With his signature charm and bold flair, Aventurine shows you the magic of letting go and embracing the rhythm, leaving an indelible mark on the night.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Street Performance, Dancing Together, can be read as platonic or romantic, Playful Banter, Michael Jackson-Inspired Dance, Lighthearted Interaction, He calls you and Caelus “Darling”.

A/N: WHEN I FIRST WATCHED THAT VIDEO, I WAS LAUGHING CUZ BRO THEY LOOKED SO GOOFY!! 💀😭 BUT then I remembered where I came from and that I can't dance or pull moves like em 😕😔💔 decided to change it a bit and write it in my own way totally not because I'm not good describing the actual scene 😙

The streets of Penacony were alive with a nocturnal glow, the soft hum of neon signs and the glimmer of string lights strung between lampposts creating an otherworldly ambiance. The city seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, the empty road reflecting the light like a stage waiting for its stars.

Aventurine stood at the center of it all, his flamboyant overcoat billowing slightly in the cool night breeze. With the magnetic ease of a performer born for the spotlight, he commanded attention. The steady beat of music from a nearby speaker set the rhythm, sharp and rhythmic, each note pulsing through the air like an electric charge.

At his side was Caelus, shuffling his feet awkwardly, trying to match Aventurine’s precise, popping movements. Aventurine’s laughter rang out, bright and teasing, as he spun on his heel, moonwalking effortlessly across the reflective asphalt.

“More flair, darling!” Aventurine called out, his magenta and cyan eyes flashing under the streetlights. “Think less ‘marching soldier’ and more… oh, I don’t know, ‘unstoppable icon.’”

“I’m trying!” Caelus huffed, attempting a spin and nearly losing his balance. Aventurine caught him with one gloved hand, steadying him with a playful grin.

“You’re killing me here,” Aventurine said dramatically, wiping an imaginary tear. “But don’t worry, darling, I have enough style for the both of us.”

It was then that you turned the corner, the sight of the impromptu performance freezing you in your tracks. The music, the lights, and Aventurine’s dazzling charisma made for a scene straight out of a dream. He caught sight of you immediately, pausing mid-spin, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Well, well,” he drawled, running a hand through his hair as he stepped toward you, his signature grin firmly in place. “A curious audience, or perhaps a future partner in crime?”

You blinked, caught off guard by his intensity. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said quickly, heat rising to your cheeks. “I was just—”

“Passing by?” he interrupted, tilting his head in mock disappointment. “Darling, no one just passes by when I’m performing.”

He extended a hand toward you, his fingers adorned with rings that glittered under the lights. “Come on, join me. Let’s give this sleepy street something to remember.”

“I don’t think I can keep up...” you stammered, glancing nervously at the sleek, polished moves you’d just witnessed.

“Nonsense,” Aventurine said, his voice warm and coaxing. “I’ll lead. You just have to trust me.”

Before you could think to refuse, he took your hand, pulling you into the makeshift dance floor. The music swelled, and Aventurine wasted no time demonstrating a quick, sharp move, his body snapping into angles and gliding with unnatural smoothness.

“Like this!” he said, showing you the basics. His movements were impossibly fluid, his feet tapping and sliding with precision, his body swaying in time with the beat. Tentatively, you mimicked him, feeling awkward but determined.

“There we go!” he encouraged, clapping once. “Now loosen up, darling. Feel the rhythm. It’s not about perfection; it’s about presence.”

With every step, Aventurine’s infectious confidence began to rub off on you. He spun you around with a flourish, guiding your movements until you matched his energy, if not his finesse. When he threw in a dramatic slide, you followed, the frictionless motion exhilarating.

“You’re getting it!” he laughed, his voice filled with genuine delight. He popped his shoulders and tilted his hat that he seemed to have conjured out of nowhere, adding a theatrical edge to his routine.

The final beat of the song came to an abrupt halt, and Aventurine struck a pose, his arm outstretched and his grin wide. You stumbled to a stop beside him, out of breath but laughing.

“Bravo, darling!” he said, taking your hand and bowing dramatically. “You were magnificent.”

“Thanks,” you managed, your cheeks warm from the exertion and his praise. “But I think you carried the team.”

“True,” he said, his tone teasing as he pulled you closer. “But even stars need a little gravity to keep them grounded.”

Before you could respond, Caelus reappeared, a drink in hand and a raised brow. “Are you done showing off?”

“Never,” Aventurine replied, spinning on his heel to face him. “But since you’re back, shall we try again? You’re still my project, after all.”

As the two resumed their playful practice, you stepped back, watching them with a smile. The memory of Aventurine’s bold moves and even bolder charm would stay with you long after the music faded.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ♕ This is gaudy as shit and I don't care. Idk. There may be inconsistencies with the story, so, sorry. I've been working on this all day. 8 pages on Google Docs so you're in for a read. Good stuff starts at page 3 (mind you, this is from Google Docs perspective.) I read, reread, rereread, rerereread, rererereread .... until I couldn't. This is a little headcanon-y and a little fic-y. It's just what I was feeling. I know you know what to do if there's anything horribly wrong. For real, though. This is so fucking long I never want to see my laptop again.

C/W ♕ Unprotected P->V, F->M & M->F Oral, M->eating his cum (sorta) from F, kinda rough sex but they like it. I'm so brain dead right now that I can't remember everything. Soft broken Hanma eventually. I like you, no shit? I like you too. Kiss kiss. Snooze snooze. Happy happy.

Funsies ♕ A link of the playlist I made while I was writing this in case anyone wants to check it out. I don't think the read will exhaust the playlist so pick any song you want and it should, theoretically work at any point?

WC ♕ 3,915 (ISH - I change things once I get it here on Tumblr, but it's around that.

♕ You'll never forget the first time you rode on the back of Hanma's bike with him.

♕ He wasn't really keen on the idea of taking you home. You weren't even his responsibility.

♕ But it was a favor for one of his captains.

♕ Hanma put his helmet on you, tightening the strap under your chin carefully so he wouldn't pinch your delicate skin.

♕ He was so pissed when he noticed how pretty your eyes were, staring so intently back into his. He had to shake himself out of the distraction.

♕ "You're not wearing a helmet, Shuji?" You asked.

♕ "This's the only one I have, obviously. And you're going to wear it, got it?" He was so adamant about that.

♕ He got you settled in the helmet and threw his leg over his bike. Looking at you impatiently, waiting for you to get on, he put his hand out and you took it.

♕ You hopped on behind him and wrapped your arms around his straight waistline. And you're not sure if your heart skipped a beat because you were so nervous about being on the back of a motorcycle with him for the first time or if it was how you felt with your cheek pressed to his back

♕ He also noticed how nice your arms felt wrapped around him. He turned his head before he took off and told you you'd better hold on tighter, he doesn't drive like a 30 year old.

♕ Hanma thought he turned his head enough from your line of vision before he smiled. But you saw it.

♕ So you did what he asked and squeezed him tighter, pressing your chest harder against his back.

♕ He started the engine and the vibrations sent shockwaves throughout your cunt body like you've never experienced.

♕ Both you and Hanma thought it wasn't possible for you to get any closer to him, but you both somehow managed to impress the other.

♕ He was at a stoplight about 3 blocks from your house and he reached back to give your thigh a little pat.

♕ "Hold on to me, hana. I'm gonna go like hell when I see that light turn green."

♕ His hand stayed on your thigh even after he took off. Stayed there for so long, actually, that you were getting concerned about the upcoming turn in the road. But he pulled his hand forward just in time to take it with ease.

♕ The wind against your face that carried his scent - which you could NOT place, (Sandlewood? Cedar? It was DELICIOUS to say the least) was starting to make you feel drunk.

♕ You could just barely hear the music playing through the small (but strangely loud) speakers --- Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away), Deftones. You had heard the song before and liked it but now it held a certain heaviness over you. Everything about this moment felt right. The night was warm. The stars were out.

♕ How the fuck had you not realized this before?

♕ Hanma is ... he's fucking sexy.

♕ He pulled up to your place and he stopped the bike, letting it idle while sitting in your driveway.

♕ "Ok, you have arrived at your destination. You're welcome, for the ride of your life." He seemed a little more lighthearted now than when he first was roped into taking you home.

♕ "Yeah. Yeah, thanks. Um, thanks. Do you - maybe ... want some ..." you just couldn't fucking talk. He looked so handsome in the soft yellow lights that lined the street.

♕ "You got some food? I could eat, yeah." He kicked the bike stand out and turned it off and reached up to remove his helmet from your head.

♕ If he missed the blush that washed over your face he'd have to be a blind man. But you noticed a faint smile on him, too. So you think he caught it.

♕ "What do you feel like? I just went shopping and I'm fully stocked." You stood with your back to him, he was in the living room looking around at the shit you had all over your walls. Weird art that made him feel things. Stuff he's never thought himself capable of feeling - not bad things, either. But new things.

♕ And you felt comfortable with all of this. Knowing he was in another room than you. Except, he wasn't in the living room anymore. He was right fucking behind you. You stopped to look up into the cupboard you stood in front of to see what was there, if it was easy and quick to fix up.

♕ He reached out and traced the curve of your waist and leaned in, putting his face to the back of your head. "You going to feed me, y/n?"

♕ Your first thought was who's going to perform CPR on your right now because you're about to die. His breath was so hot on the back of your neck you were able to document the time that your heart actually stopped beating for a second.

♕ Hanma put his hands on your shoulders and ran them down your arms. When he got to your wrists, he pulled them behind your back more roughly than you've ever been touched by any man before.

♕ And he's so much taller than you, so he has to bend over so he can talk right into your ear.

♕ "I'm sure it's ready for me to eat right now. Not much prep is going to be required. I guess, in a way, you could almost call it fast food?" He yanked you so you were standing up straight and your back was flush with his front.

♕ You didn't know what to do with your hands so you just left them where he placed them. He had his free hand back on your waist, squeezing and exploring.

♕ "I don't think I've ever wanted something so bad as I do right now, hana." He said, letting his fingers dip lower and lower. You threw your head back and it fit into the dip between his neck and shoulder.

♕ You couldn't help but think he was such a fucking gentleman, waiting for your permission before he took anything. You leaned back against his chest and turned your head to kiss him. "Then take ... take it. Take what you want, Shuji. Take it all."

♕ Hanma's hand went back up to your throat and squeezed just enough to make you gasp.

♕ He leaned around and pressed his mouth to the corners of your lips, teasing you into giving yourself fully over to the kiss and sliding his tongue down your jawline to your neck. Ending up at your ear once more.

♕ "Good girl, hana. You're so wet for me right now, I can fucking smell it. Tell me what you want me to take. Hm? You want me to take you? You're going to be so good for me. Or maybe not? Maybe you're just going to be a nasty ... little ... bitch. I think I'd like to see that. This sweet girl act you put on. I've seen you walking around like you're just the best thing around here. Well? You going to prove that to me, hana? Huh?" He said, his voice dropping an octave as he ran his hand down your stomach and dipped his fingers into your panties.

♕ He moaned into your ear, "Oh fuck, hana. You're dripping for me. I'm going to fucking ruin you."

♕ He turned you around more roughly than he had to and hoisted you onto the counter, yanking your pants down and kneeling down before you, inhaling your scent. Deeply.

♕ Hanma looked up at you with such fire in his eyes, you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. He traced his finger over your pussy, feeling your wetness before leaning forward and dragging his tongue over the same invisible line his finger forged on your trembling skin.

♕ You arched your back and gasped as he brushed his lips against your thighs. You could feel how heavy his breathing had gotten. He pushed one finger passed your folds, then two, and you could feel yourself tightening around him.

♕ "Shu, f-fuck. Please, I need ... I need ..."

♕ He looked up at you with his eyebrows raised. "What do you need, hana. Use your words."

♕ You reached down and grabbed him by the ears, pulling him up to your face. "I ... fuck me, Shuji." You kissed him, tasting yourself on him.

♕ Hanma didn't waste a second. He pulled you off the counter and dragged you into your bedroom. You turned around and yanked at his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops all at once and threw it across the room, unzipping his pants and pulling them down.

♕ He leaned you over the bed, spreading your legs and reaching up to squeeze your ass. You looked back at him, wanting him to fill you up.

♕ Hanma rubbed his tip up and down your slit, teasing you. "Shuji just ... just fuck me."

♕ You were so whiny and needy. It was making him so hard. He wanted to fuck you right then and there. To give you what you were so desperately and metaphorically, on your knees for.

♕ But the sadist in him, found it hard to acknowledge your pleas so soon. He didn't want you to work for this, per se. But he wanted to make good and damn sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you. So what if he had to deny himself instant gratification. The look on your sweet, flushed face was already worth having to drag this out.

♕ "You've been so good for me, hana. I'm going to give you exactly what you need. But I don't want you to come too soon." He said, smirking as he pulled you back to your feet and turned you around, pressing his hands into your shoulders until you were on your knees.

♕ Hanma reached down and pulled his cock out of his boxers and he patted your chin a few times. Urging your mouth to open so he could slap it on your tongue before pushing his tip into your mouth. You let him guide you as you took him down your throat. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you struggled to take him all the way in.

♕ "Fuck, y/n. Look at you. Taking me like a good little slut. I knew you were going to act like a little bitch in heat. Choking down my cock like that." He praised you through gritted teeth. Despite sounding so volatile, it made you feel so good to be used by him this way.

♕ He pulled out of your mouth and pushed you back onto the bed, flipping you over onto your stomach. He pulled your hips up and guided his tip into you, slowly pushing himself in until he was all the way inside you.

♕ Hanma held himself there for a minute, feeling you tighten around him. He started moving again, in and out of you.

♕ You felt like you were on the edge of an orgasm with every thrust. The disgusting way he used you for his own pleasure and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad.

♕ "Shuji, fuck ... I'm gonna cum."

♕ He pulled out and turned you onto your back. He spread your legs apart and leaned over you, pushing himself back inside you and pressing his lips to yours.

♕ "Yeah? How close? How close are you?" He dragged his teeth over your ear and on down to your visibly beating pulse point and left a purple mark in his wake. You clenched up around his cock so hard when he did this that he had to stop moving and pull himself together. "Fuck! Hana! Keep that shit up and this is over. I'm fucking finished."

♕ He thrust into you harder, his balls slapping against your ass wasn't helping you hold off cumming all over him. You felt your orgasm building up inside you. You reached down to rub your clit, but he saw where your fingers were aiming and he brushed your hand aside and started rubbing soft circles on it for you. It made you moan - the most whorish, slutty sound you have ever let out.

♕ It was out of your control at this point. His dick pounding inside of you, hitting all the right spots at all the right times was making you more cock-drunk than you have ever felt. If you could even consider yourself aware of anything other than his golden eyes burning holes into yours and the rise and fall of his hips against your spread legs.

♕ Your cunt swallowed his cock so perfectly. The thought crossed your mind that you were made for each other. But that's ridiculous. Hanma hates you. Right? He didn't even want to take you home. So why, then, is he balls deep inside of you right now. Don't fucking ask, you thought to yourself. Doing any and every little thing you could to stave off your imminent crash.

♕ He could see your eyes start to roll back and he knew what was happening. He pressed his thumb harder against your clit and started circling it faster.

♕ "Cum for me, hana. Show me how much you wanted this, how much you wanted my cock inside of you." He sucked on your nipple as he fucked you. Balancing over you on his left hand, his right hand still trifling with your pulsing clit. You tried to buck up against him for any extra stimulation but he only pulled back. "Aht! I make you cum. You ... you let me. Understand, hana? I ... make ... you ... cum." He growled through his clenched jaw directly into your ear. Punctuating each word with driving his hips harder and harder against you.

♕ You couldn't hold it in anymore. You came so hard and you didn't even care that he was watching you so closely. You let your body relax and gave in to the moment. You'd pretty much checked out mentally, but whatever connection remained between your brain and your body was otherworldly. You felt his cock sliding in and out of your soaked cunt. It was so thick and long. Nothing like you imagined it would be by just looking at his tall, thin frame. (But aren't those guys always the wildcard?) It was all you could focus on.

♕ Hanma was ready to cum, too. He pulled out of you and turned you over onto your stomach again. He slapped his wet cock against your ass before pushing back into your pussy, making you moan into the sheets.

♕ You were still twitching against him. As close as he was to blowing his sticky load of cum inside of you, as hard as his cock was twitching, he was so transfixed by how you felt around him. So fucking hot. So fucking soft. So fucking beautiful. Like a goddamn flower. Your pussy made him think of the most beautiful flower and nothing would ever change his mind about that. (And he would never figure out why - but he wondered if it had to do with the weird art in your living room).

♕ "Fuck, hana. Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! You want me to cum inside this pussy? Want me to cum in my pussy, huh? Yeah? Fuck, cumming so fuck- hard, holy shit. Fuck!" Hanma came with such force, you could feel his cum pouring into you. And soon after, seeping out of you from around his cock still inside of your stretched hole. He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily. He didn't want to move, not yet.

♕ And he felt like it should bother him that he was still here with you. Still, physically, a part of you, as much as you were a part of him. But he couldn't think of a single reason why he should leave. Let alone why he'd want to leave.

♕ "Shu, you ... I ... well," you tried to speak but couldn't form a coherent thought just yet. "Um," it was useless. You couldn't think. So you just laid there underneath him. Feeling more and more empty with each passing second as the sadness of this being over filled you instead feeling full from Hanma. It was not a good placeholder for him. It was not feeling nearly as good as he did. And you felt like crying.

♕ Whether because it was just too much for you or it was just nothing to him. What if it were both? Shit. You're starting to cry.

♕ He felt you tremble underneath him and he rolled off of you, turning you over to face him.

♕ "Hey, what's wrong? Hana? Look at me, now. Did I hurt you? Did I do something?" He looked more concerned that irritated. And that's probably what surprised you the most. You tried to hide your face, but he grabbed your chin and pulled you back.

♕ "No, it's ... it's nothing. I just ... it was too much. You were too good." You said, laughing hard through the tears, wholly embarrassed by your generous assessment.

♕ "Oh, what now?" Hanma smiled and kissed you on the forehead. He reached down and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth and kissing it. "You say I was too good? Were you even here? I mean ... I guess it's impossible for you to feel yourself. But, I guess ... I guess I'm only as good as who I'm with? And, hana," he cupped your face in his rough, slightly grease stained and scarred hand, "you were good, too."

♕ You laughed again, shaking your head. "Don't ... don't be nice to me. I can't handle it. And that's not even ... you don't have to say that to me. I know you don't like me. You can't fucking stand me. I knew all of this when I asked your captain to make you give me a ride. How embarrassing is that. I fucking am so pathetic sometimes." You rubbed your eyes with the heel of your palm. "God. You can go. You don't have to stay. It's alright. I'm ... I'll be ... fine. I always am."

♕ Hanma sat up on his elbow, looking down at you with his brow furrowed. "Hana. I can't believe you're this stupid." He rubbed the back of his neck and looked out into the hallway.

♕ "Shuji! Who the fuck is Hana? And why do you keep calling me that? My name is-" great, now you look sad and insane.

♕ "Chill, crazy. Hana means blossom. And I think, ffffuck. Ithinkyou'reprettylikeaflowerplusyourpussyispretty." His words ran together but you heard every single separate syllable. You're pretty sure you fell in love with him a little bit, too. The fucker.

♕ He leaned over you again, pressing his lips to yours. You moaned against his mouth and reached to grab his cock, but he stopped you. "No. I wanna make you feel good. It's your turn." He kissed your neck and made his way down to your pussy, licking up his own cum that had dripped out of you. You bucked your hips up into his face, reaching down to grab a fistful of his hair.

♕ He looked up at you with wide eyes, smirking. "Hold on, hana. I got you." He sucked your clit between his lips, pressing his tongue against it and making you cry out in pleasure. He pushed two fingers into your pussy and started pumping them in and out of you, hitting your g-spot while he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue.

♕ "Fuck, Shu! Fuck me!" You screamed.

♕ He looked up at you with his eyelids still heavy. "That's what I'm trying to do, baby." He said, chuckling. "Just this time, it's with my mouth. Ok? So sit back and enjoy the ride." He leaned back down and continued sucking and licking and pumping you until you couldn't hold on anymore. You came for him, all over his face. And he didn't seem to mind one bit.

♕ He crawled up to you and laid beside you again. You looked over at him and smiled. "You're such an asshole. But I kind of like you."

♕ He leaned over and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on him. Again. "No shit? I've liked you for a while. But I ... hell, I don't know. I guess I thought you were too good for me or something." He put his head against your chest, subconsciously counting the heartbeats coming from your body. "That's usually what people tell me. The guys and stuff. They always give me shit about anyone I like. Except ... except for you. They respect you."

♕ You nodded slowly, spacing out on the chunk of blond hair above his forehead. "Yeah, it helps having a cousin who's a captain. But Shuji, I do. I really do like you. I just wanted you to know that."

♕ Hanma looked up at you with a softness in his eyes you had never seen before. "I know, hana. I know." He kissed you again, pulling the sheet over both of you. He didn't want you to see him get worked up. Not over you. Not emotionally. Not just yet. But he was pretty sure he was starting to fall in love with you. And that was just something he wasn't prepared for. Though he'd have to face up to it. Sooner, rather than later, he thought.

♕ He turned over onto his back and let you snuggle up next to him, throwing your arm over his chest. He closed his eyes, thinking about how much he'd like to do this again. Just like this. Just you.

♕ You reached over and turned off the lamp, laying your head against his chest and simply being in the darkened room with him. It was so easy, you thought. And you hoped it would always be that way, though you knew better than to believe that. Because Hanma was a very complicated man on the outside and inside. And you wanted to be the one who could be there to understand him. The one who could get to know him. The one who could make him laugh and cry and feel any and everything he ever wanted to feel. You wanted to be the one who'd be there to listen to anything he had to say. Softly spoken or screamed out.

♕ And that's all you wanted. To be there for him. And with him. And with him.

♕ "Good night, little hana." He said, pulling you tighter against him.

♕ "Good night, beautiful Shuji." You smiled in the darkness and drifted off to sleep.

♕ And you didn't care how much you'd regret saying it or how much you'd try to deny it. It was true. You were in love with him. And you knew it would be some time before he could admit he felt the same way. But you would give him whatever amount of time he needed.

♕ He hoped he would be worth it. Hanma wasn't necessarily a good man. He has never been called a good man. Never has he ever really felt like one.

♕ But he heard you talking to him in the morning before you got out of bed to fix the coffee. Telling him how you'd be there for him as best you could. No matter what.

♕ He thought to himself that he hoped he'd never disappoint you. No matter what.

Taglist ::: @katkitkats @darkstarlight82 @arlerts-angel @viburnt @kazutora-kurokawa

[ape-apocalypse]

Road To The Kingdom - My Planet Of The Apes Retrospective

With the hype for Kingdom Of The Planet Of The Apes on the rise, I decided to do a bit of a deep dive into the trilogy of reboot movies starring the incredible Andy Serkis and the various tie-in titles.

Why ramble on about a series that most people seem to overlook? Well, I think back to an interaction I had here on Tumblr in 2017, just one week before War For The Planet Of The Apes came out. While scrolling through the POTA tags, I found a post that wondered if anyone was actually excited for the new film or if the studio hadn't gotten the message and was making it for an audience that didn't exist. I responded that I was genuinely excited for the new film, that I loved the motion capture apes and the action scenes and the surprisingly engaging story, and would be seeing it opening weekend. The other person seemed surprised by my honest answer and apologized for their snarkiness (a truly shocking turn of events in the history of the Internet!).

I explained that I'd gone into these films thinking of them like Jurassic World series; I wasn't there for a great story and deep writing, I just wanted to see dinosaurs destroy things. So when I went into the POTA films, just expecting to see fun action movies with monkey chaos and apocalyptic results, I was surprised that I was swept up in the characters and their stories. I loved seeing the life of Caesar from tiny carefree baby to resilient revolutionary to fearsome leader, and the lives of all the humans and apes around him. The other poster said they hadn't actually seen the movies, just expected them to be shallow cash-grabs on reboot nostalgia, but they might have to reconsider giving them a shot after my enthusiastic response.

So if I can sway the minds of anyone who has written off these films, more movie tickets sold might mean more films and other media told in this ape apocalypse world!

And even if you already know and love the films, I also want to give some love to tie-in materials. Books, comics, YouTube shorts, video games; POTA has a surprisingly large catalog of bonus material for a series not considered mainstream like Marvel or Lord Of The Rings or Star Trek. I don't see them get many mentions in the fandom so hope a little spotlight on them can help them shine. They have delicious tidbits of world-building and character backstory, filling in gaps between the movies. I already have my fingers crossed there will be some tie-in material covering some of the huge time jump between War and Kingdom. With three hundred years passing between them, there is so much to learn about the ever growing and changing ape societies. I'm eager for any scrap of info they'll share!

But really, even if nothing I write changes anyone's mind about this franchise, it's still fun to gush about one of my favorite fictional universes.

My brief history with POTA was that I didn't know much about the original films before going into the new Andy Serkis trilogy. I'd heard enough about the original film to know the main beats of the first movie (quotes like 'damn dirty ape', the reveal of the planet being Earth with the Statue of Liberty). I saw the Tim Burton film which didn't leave any kind of impression other than the incredibly realistic costumes/make-up, so much so that I was apprehensive of the CG apes. Since getting into the new films, I've started watching the originals and may cover those just for fun.

So whether you're a long-time die hard fan or a fresh face to Caesar's legacy, I hope you'll enjoy my thoughts on the Planet of the Apes franchise!

Links to all my posts as they are released:

- Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes Film

- Prelude and Contagion Comics

- Motherboard YouTube Shorts

- Firestorm Tie-In Novel

- Fall Of Man Comics

- Dawn Tie-In Comic

- Dawn Of The Planet Of The Apes Film

- Revelations Tie-In Novel

- Last Frontier Video Game

- Crisis Video Game

- When Worlds Collide Comics

- War For The Planet Of The Apes Film

- War Tie-In Comic

- Caesar's Story Novel

[archivallyfound09]

Stars & Stripes pt.2

Summary: Jake meets a new girl on base and pursues her, not realizing that she may be exactly what he needed all along.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader (no y/n, afab) Warnings: Everything is mature folks, swearing, drinking, adult-y stuff- the usual rules for my stuff :)

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

"I'm sorry....you...went for a JOG?"

Horrified, her hands flew up to take her phone off of speaker.

"Yes, sometimes I do actually enjoy going out and getting some fresh air and being near the-"

"Oh cut the shit, who is he?" The stuttering that happened on the other end of the line confirmed the suspicions. "See- I knew it. You pick up a weird random hobby when there's a guy around."

"Actually, if you must know," her tone was still a bit shaky, but the confidence was returning, "I went out for a run hoping to avoid the guy I literally ran into last night."

The loud male chuckle on the other end made her blood steam. "You went for a jog on the one road that leads to the military base and it's hangers to avoid the one guy who was clearly going to go to work on the military base and it's hangers...."

"Shut up, Edward," she tried to growl, a smile pulling at her lips, "maybe you should've left me a map!"

"I'm back in two weeks. You think you can handle yourself until then, Magellan?" She rolled her eyes and gave an affirmative. "Alright, good. Stay out of trouble, okay? Can't beat anyone up for hitting on my lil' sis!" She groaned at the nickname- though they weren't related Eddie had been in her life far longer than any of her other siblings. He had certainly been around enough to know all of her annoyances.

"Goodbye Edward."

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

Jake tapped his eraser on the tip of his front tooth, clearly not interested in the recounting of Rooster's latest conquest. This time, Coyote wasn't the only one to notice Hangman's clear disinterest. Normally, it would become a one-upping contest, with someone making an outrageous lie, being called on it, and then the liar being forced to get the first round of drinks that night.

The day had passed relatively uneventfully. Hangman had been correct- Maverick had swapped him for Rooster to fly with Phoenix and Bob. Their unsuccessful kill made him feel much better about the decision.

He had gone up with Harvard and Yale and, though unsuccessful, they had come much closer to hitting their target. Hangman internally clung to his two confirmed air kills and puffed out his chest and shrugged when Maverick asked what went wrong. He partook in his push-ups silently (shockingly according to Phoenix) and then had wound up here, sitting on top of his desk ignoring Rooster's antics.

Fanboy had had enough. "Alright, Hard Deck, let's go!" Everyone let out a halfhearted cheer and looked at the clock, thrilled to see they had meet their training requirements. Normally, Monday was a bit early for drinks, but with the impending mission looming in the distance and the inability of anyone to complete the simulation successfully, it was the one thing Fanboy knew they needed.

He also got no resistance and ignored the voice in his head that said "You're all crazy and alcoholics."

-------

For a Monday night, the Hard Deck was just about empty. A few booths were taken up by a couple or two, a rescheduled first date, and a small group of women who were clearly just trying to get away from their kids for a few hours.

Penny looked up from the bar amusedly. Her arched eyebrow asked "that bad, huh?" and Fanboy and Coyote's fervent nods confirmed her fears. She was still figuring out her stuff with Pete, but whatever this mission was, he was putting these kids through hell.

"Alright, first round on me. After that, your problem, ok?" There was a tired, but relieved cheer that went around as Penny pulled the draft pull and started filling pints. Hangman took one of the first poured and raised it up to their fabulous bartender, winning a smile from Penny.

Soon the group had settled after a beer or two (or 4 in Bob's case...) over near the pool table and the darts. Hangman had played Coyote twice and smoked him, so he had moved on to Fanboy and pool. Rooster had tried to go to the piano twice but had been persuaded away by Phoenix and Halo, begging him to wait until Friday night (and not wanting to disturb literally everyone else in the bar).

"Hey Penny- tried to find the screw setter bits for the drywall in the back, but hardware store was fresh out. They say they'll have them in Thursday- want me to hed back then?"

Fanboy had spotted her first. Then Coyote, then Phoenix, then-

"Hey, Hangmaaaaan. Look who's here!!" Rooster's voice cut through every conversation like a knife. Hangman rolled his eyes, half expecting to see Jesus Christ himself at the bar after Bradshaw's introduction.

What Jake had not intended for was that the woman he had met last night (and again this morning on her run) was standing in the same, semi-empty bar that he was in. She had heard Rooster's idiocy and peered over Penny's shoulder to lock eyes with him. She gave him a small smile, doe-eyes twinkling, and then it turned into a stifled laugh, her lips curling into each other as he looked down.

It was then that he felt it: Jake had managed to spill was was left of his beer on his lap. As the cold liquid settled on his thigh, he jumped up, pushing it further down his leg, into his sock and onto the floor. The entire squad around him had seen the fiasco and were losing it. Over the cackled and jeers, Coyote had made his way up and placed a sympathetic hand on Jake's shoulder.

"Smooth move, Seresin! You gotta leave some ladies for the rest of us!"

Hangman rolled his eyes and headed away from the group and up to the bar. In the moment since he had held her gaze, she had vanished. Penny handed him a dry bartowel and gave him a bit of a smirk.

"You hurt my girl, Lieutenant, I'll make sure you never see the sky again."

Jake smiled and finished wiping down his pants, handing the rag back.

"Yes ma'am," he shot her his thousand dollar smile and headed out the front doors, leaving the crew to their laughing fits.

-----------

"Hey Stripes!"

She froze, her hand on the key in the ignition. She had left the window down due to the cool ocean breeze (and the broken A/C), but she was thrilled that she had. Here came sex on a plate, running out to her car, calling her name (kinda), and wanting to talk to her. THe butterflies had migrated up into her ribcage and she felt like she was vibrating.

In the bar it had taken everything in her to waltz in as cool as she did. She had spotted Jake's car from this morning in the parking lot (along with the rest of the team- she didn't exactly get new neighbors in military housing) and she had spent 15 minutes outside trying to get her cheeks to stop flushing and her heart to stop pounding out of her chest.

"This is ridiculous," she told herself over and over again, pacing a line into the gravel parking lot, "You met a guy, IN THE DARK, and are now acting like this? Come on, you're not that shallow...but maybe he's nice and sweet and-" She could hear Eddie's voice now "HE'S A GUY. And a military one at that! You know what he wants..."

She finally had calmed her conniption down enough to go in (after rehearsing the line to Penny over and over again in her head), but when she saw him in the back, the orange glow of the lighting and the wood against his tan skin, his blond hair a bit more tidy than when she had met him last night, the top of his uniform undone, she froze. It felt like a magnet had locked her in place and all she could see in the room was him.

Once the beer had started to tip, the magnetic field broke. She stifled a laugh and Penny rolled her eyes, nodding towards the door with a knowing glance. She had heard Penny give "the talk" to Eddie lots of times when she was visiting, but this was the first time it was going to be threatened on her behalf.

She walked slow, countered step to the Jeep and sat in the cool air and silence for a few moments. Everything seemed like an eternity, so just as she was about to turn on the ignition and play (literally) hard to get, she heard his voice.

His forearms crossed and were over the precipice of her open window in seconds. She could see the slightest shine of sweat near his hairline and the few freckles that coated his nose. He was so close that-

Her eyes finally met his. She was completely lost in the pale green eyes that stared back at hers, the smile lines crinkling in the corners, the slight glint of the setting sun. She felt time slow down and could feel every pinprick of sweat start to form on her skin.

What she didn't know is that the man standing in front of her was even more enraptured by the woman in his view. He tried desperately to capture every detail of her face, every fleck of color in her eyes, every dotted freckle, the way her lashes curled at the ends, the slight pink that dusted her cheekbones- Jake was terrified he was going to forget something.

It was her smile that finally broke him out of his panic. She had taken in a deep breath, her lips slightly parting as she adjusted herself in the driver's seat. She handed him a small piece of paper.

"We can't keep bumping into each other like this, " she said, confident but also completely unsure of herself. Jake quickly opened the paper and smiled. He saw a name and a phone number.

"Nice to officially meet you, Stripes," he smiled, giving her a small Texas bow. She giggled.

"Nice to officially meet you too, Hangman."

------

[qsycomplainsalot]

So I watched Furiosa

Furiosa Road: a Star Wars Story. It wasn't likely to live up to Fury Road, and it didn't. It would have been a tall order. While it was well worth paying to see in theaters, I was still a little disappointed; I'm going to explain why, without spoilers, and then after a very visible cut I'll comment on a few specific things in the movie.

First of all it felt long, but not two hours long so I guess it speaks to its quality. Going through the cast, everyone did a good job, although I wasn't blown away by the on screen chemistry of Anya Taylor-Joy and Tom Burke. More on that later. Chris Hemsworth as the overarching antagonist is this movie's standout performance, in a way that I'm somewhat conflicted about. More on that later too.

Overall it feels as if, after making Fury Road a trim and thrilling movie, the creatives behind it strung together all the piles of amazing ideas they had left on the cutting room floor into another complete movie, but not a very cohesive story with a beginning middle and end with enough connective tissue to captivate an audience. There's no shortage of props, costumes, characters, stunts and just straight up visuals, although the music is not up to the standards set by Fury Road. What's really missing is a tight knit script.

I'd say watch it if you like the franchise, otherwise I'd just wait for it to release on small screens.

My biggest complaint with this movie is that it's split between two relationships, between Hemsworth as Dementus or Tom Burke as Jack with Furiosa, when really with how it's paced it could barely afford one. I am just completely confused by people saying Jack and Furiosa's relationship was the highlight of the movie, it was vague, bland, and Jack died before I could really care about him. All this relationship did was explain how Furiosa became so good at driving a war rig, despite the fact that by this point in the movie she'd fended for herself just fine, presumably using what she'd been taught by the vuvuzela tribe. Likewise Dementus as a character is extremely simple, in a good way, and is the a better representation of time passing in the movie than literal text onscreen telling you it's been fifteen years or some such. It's on the nose, but Chris Hemsworth is acting his heart out and it's always a joy to see him on screen. He's spiraling his way through the movie in a perfect exemple of what Furiosa must avoid becoming. So knowing that, the main plot should be about Furiosa having to lose her way home (the star map tattoo on her arm, which we know she lose by Fury Road) and choose to stay at the Citadel to kill him, setting up a bitter ending where she's gained nothing and is stuck killing more people instead of letting go of revenge and going home. Unfortunately Furiosa: the video game: the movie very much lives in the shadow of its 2015 sequel, and so the plot is split further to set that up. I've talked about how it hurts the pacing and how much screentime the other characters could have gotten, but I think it actually greatly diminished the ending. The end of Furiosa has her catch up to Dementus, bind him and beat him up, asking him to give her her childhood and mother back, only for Dementus to refuse to play along in anyway. He tells her that revenge achieves nothing, that he knows from personal experience and that she can kill him however she wants, that he doesn't particularly care. I don't do it justice it's a pretty good end to his arc this movie. Instead of Furiosa killing him there and then and validating that speech for a cohesive theme to the movie (keeping the hope stuff for Fury Road where it works), the history man voiceover tells us that although the true end of Dementus is disputed, Furiosa told him the truth, that she kept him alive with a peach tree growing out of his dick ?? And then she brings the peach to Immortan's wives in the Citadel, and then the credits are interspersed with shots from Fury Road. I can excuse the impossibility of keeping someone alive while a tree is growing on them for the sake of Mad Max movies very much being wasteland fairy tales, but I think directly linking Furiosa: Road One with Fury Road like that is both pointless and very hamfisted, on top of being a big disappointment when it comes to Dementus' character. Like the guy was clearly fucked up from losing his daughters just kill him and be done with it. Anyway yeah I don't think I'll rewatch this movie nearly as often as I rewatch Fury Road. Shoutout to the Octoboss though, he's the Most Valuable Sidecharacter of this movie.

[happilychaengs]

spontaneous combustion

huh yunjin x gender neutral reader

synopsis: a night spent with yunjin free of restrictions and limits. one filled with spontaneity, confessions, and the night sky.

word count: 845

triggers/warnings: originally a post on my second blog i am trying new stuff but no warnings. yunjin is just a little simp 😒

-

you weren't expecting today to be any different than the rest. a day full of well-deserved rest, and maybe just a smidge of selfishness as you ordered pizza to your doorstep, ready to snack on it and relax on the couch watching some stupid drama.

so when the doorbell rang and you got up off the couch, you weren't expecting much except a delivery person with a big round pizza in their hands that you'd most definitely enjoy. but when you swing the door open, you're... met with something out of your expectations. there she stood on your porch, hands in her pockets as she smiled at you, her head nudging towards her car behind her.

"do you want to go somewhere?"

and now here you were. your hair was blowing in the wind, and the windows rolled down as the trees started to blur all in one, passing you by. cold enveloped your entire body as you crossed your arms tightly around your chest, a deep sigh coming out of your mouth. your mind couldn't be any further away from your now cold pizza as you glanced over at her, bobbing her head up and down to the quiet tune on the radio.

"where are we going?"

the cold didn't seem to faze her as she smiled and her eyes crinkled, continuing to stare down the long road ahead of you. "you'll see."

you lay beside yunjin on the cold, soft grass, hands intermingled as you looked up at the dark, dreamy sky. stars scattered all across as you felt yunjin's warm hand tighten ever so slightly, a few faint breaths coming from the both of you.

"it's beautiful."

you can hear her smile through her tone, "mhm. you are beautiful."

"cheesy." you rolled your eyes as you turned your head over. you meet her longing gaze and to say it was more beautiful than the night sky itself would be an understatement. her dark hazel eyes were filled with such raw unadulterated love, a small smile playing at her lips as she continues staring, not a single care in the world.

"you're it for me, y/n." she turns over on her side as she brings your hand closer to her, leaving a small kiss on your knuckles, "and i know its maybe too soon to say it but... i think... i'm falling in love with you."

the sound of it makes your heart swell as you close your eyes and let out a small sigh, the words making your heart beat a little too fast for your liking. but it's addictive. "can you... say it again?"

you hear her precious laugh as the same few words escape her mouth. "now i'm definitely falling in love with you."

her thumb begins to draw small circles on the back of your hand, "you're perfect, you know."

you laugh as you feign ignorance, an irresistible heat building up in your cheeks, "stop..."

"no, it's true!" you hear a small rustling as you finally open your eyes again, yunjin sitting up as she stared at you. "would you like to list everything i love about you?"

"no!" you whisper, "i don't think i can handle it..."

she smiles as she ignores your comment, beginning to rattle on, "well first off, there's that adorable thing you do when you taste some really amazing food. you like purse your lips together and you furrow your eyebrows and it's just simply... amazing."

embarrassment fills your mind as you sit up alongside her. did you actually do that?

"and then there's your smile. i can't... i don't think words could do it justice. it's just... amazing."

you shake your head as inevitably you actually do start to smile before quickly putting your hand up to cover it. yunjin quickly pulls your hand away as she smiles as well, "i wish you could look through my eyes. if you could see what i saw right now, i think you'd agree."

you turn away, being a hot and flustered mess as you hear her prattle on again, thankfully not saying anymore compliments. you might just burst.

"i'll spare you this time, y/n..." she drags on as she points at you, her eyes squinting, "since i think we'd be here all night if i decided to say everything on my mind but i'll be sure to bring everything next time so we can camp out and i tell you all about your great qualities!"

and you were so not ready for when that time comes around.

the walk back to the car is one filled with comfortable silence as you tug at yunjin's red shawl. she turns around, her curiosity piqued, "is everything okay?"

you nodded your head quickly as the words struggle to come out of your mouth, "i just wanted to say... i'm... i'm falling in love with you too."

and then her eyes seem to sparkle like the stars above as she just smiles, the brightest you've ever seen. oh, how you loved hers as well.

[iguana-eyanna]

When I'm Not Quite Myself

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader, Marc Spector x reader, Jake Lockley x reader

Summary: On your wedding day, each of you share something special to the other

a/n: a film that makes me ugly sob is "A Star is Born" and I was inspired to write something. My fav song from the soundtrack was Is That Alright?

Tonight was the night of your wedding to the men you fell in love with: Steven Grant, Jake Lockley, and Marc Spector. It was small as you didn't want to have a big celebration. All you wanted was each other, and that's what mattered.

You were in the car with Jake as he drove you two back home. You were still in your wedding dress as your hands were intertwined in the middle. He smiles at you, thinking how lucky he was to have you in his life.

You look back at the road, noticing that you passed your shared apartment.

"Tesoro, we just passed the apartment." You said, thinking he was distracted.

Jake just smirks as he takes your hand up and kisses it.

"Don't worry, Mi Cielito, we wanna show you something."

You didn't understand what he was telling until you two drove out of the city. Then, you finally understood.

You were now in a quaint neighborhood, as you saw families at each house and old couples walking by the sidewalks, waiving to you two. Jake pulled over to a house that didn't look occupied.

Your eyes widen as you twirl around to him, your hand placed on your beating heart.

"Is this what I think it is?" You ask, your voice hitched.

Jake smiles and takes your free hand, kissing it.

"Si, it's our home."

The boys and you always talked about moving out of the dungy apartment as you all wanted to find a bigger space. You were expecting to go house hunting in the following year, but you had no idea that they were already looking. You started to tear up and hugged him tightly, already flying to the door handle.

"Aye, no wife of mine will be opening doors." Marc called out. You roll your eyes as he got out and opened your door, offering a hand. You took it as he unexpectedly took you off your feet as he scooped you up.

"Marc!" You yelled.

"Hey, let me do this for you. Please." Marc begged with his soft, brown eyes.

"Okay, baby, take me home." You said.

Marc broke out of a grin and carried you to the doorstep. He dug into his pocket and found the key and unlocked it. He walked in with you, giving you a loving gaze.

"Welcome home."

He helped you to your feet as you walked along the house. Marc decided to explain.

"The boys and I knew that we wanted to give you a real home after we proposed. Steven did most of the searching and found this place through a catalog, Jake did the payments, and I repaired some things around the place."

There was an empty hallway where you were envisioning picture frames along the walls. By the living room, you saw the fireplace where you knew you'd be cuddling with the boys. The kitchen was the perfect size for you to cook and bake. Often times it will all go in disarray as everyone would be throwing flour, but you had fun doing the small things.

"It's perfect," You said, looking out of the glass door to see a backyard, already envisioning children running around as their dads chase them.

"There's actually um, one place I'd like to show you." Steven stuttered out. You turned around and see how nervous he was, shifting his feet up and down.

You walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Steven, darling, it's just us. No need to get nervous around your wife." You said.

Steven holds you by your waist.

"I'll forever be nervous. You make my heart beat faster every time you walk into the room."

You start blushing as you give him a sweet kiss as you tuck in a strand that was out of place. He smiles at you as he kisses the back of your hand.

"Come, I think you'll like this surprise." He said guiding you in the house. you turn into another hallway as he leads you to a closed door. He turns the knob and opens it, motioning you to go in first.

Once you see what's inside, you gasped as you cover your mouth.

The room was small with white walls. In the corner, you saw a guitar on a stand and a desk. But what you reacted most was the black piano that you had your eye on for some time.

You were a musician, and you were singing covers at a local cafe where you first met Steven who was there to buy some pastries. Once he heard your voice and saw how beautiful you were, he knew he was a goner.

On your dates, each boy loved at how you were passionate about performing and that you wanted to write your own music. Renting a studio was pricey, so you were often found in the cramped kitchen table trying to write.

And now, your husbands made you your own studio.

"Do you like it? Oh no, you're crying. See, I knew that we should've stuck with the white piano, but no, Marc wanted black because it's 'classic'- "

"Steven... it's wonderful. Thank you." You said, running towards him as you held onto him tightly.

He was shocked, but he held onto you tightly as he closed his eyes, leaning in your shoulder.

"We wanted you to be happy." He whispered.

When you started off, it was hard to book gigs or have meetings with record labels. The boys were your number one supporter, as they went to every gig you performed.

You break apart as you give a tearful smile.

"What do you mean? I'm always happy when I'm with you three." You said.

Now it was Marc who was staring at you, as he tried to not to cry.

"Me and the boys just want you to continue what you love."

You look back at the piano and an idea popped in your mind. You grab Marc's hand as you two sat on the bench. You played a few keys, hearing that it's in tune.

You turn back to them, feeling the same nerves Steven was talking about.

"I've been trying to find the right words to say when we got married. I wrote my vows and restarted every time. Nothing sounded right. This is me, giving my vow to you. I hope it's okay if I love you forever."

You played a few chords as Marc, Steven, and Jake listened to the words you've been wanting to say.

Life is so simple A little boy, a little girl Laughing and loving Trying to figure out the world It felt like summer When I kissed you in the rain And I know your story But tell me again

Nothing you say wouldn't interest me All of your words are like poems to me I would be honored if you would take me as I am

I want you to look right in my eyes To tell me you love me, to be by my side I want you at the end of my life I wanna see your face, when I fall with grace At the moment I die Is that alright? Is that alright?

Marc was speechless. He was never a perfect man. But in your eyes, he was everything you needed and more. You picked up the broken pieces he had and made him whole.

I hope you're still with me when I'm not quite myself And I pray that you'll lift me when you know I need help It's a warm celebration of all of our years I dream of our story, of our fairy tale

Family dinners and family trees Teaching the kids to say thank you and please Knowing if we stay together that things will be right

Steven couldn't help but smile brightly at you as his eyes brimmed with tears. He always wanted that fairytale life: to fall in love with a beautiful woman and ride away to the sunset. He doesn't know how he got to have such a breathtaking person in his life.

I want you to look right in my eyes To tell me you love me, to be by my side I want you at the end of my life I wanna see your face, when I fall with grace At the moment I die Is that alright? Is that alright? Is that alright?

You look over and see Jake now, whose eyes were bloodshot red.

"Tesoro? What's wrong, Jake?" You ask, already wiping his tears.

He stops you as he holds your hand softly and gives you a look that you couldn't describe.

"I thought I was... destined to be alone. All I knew was how to kill, but you've changed our lives. The reason why I call you Mi Cielito is because... You are my little heaven."

You started tearing up, and soon, your lips smashed against his. You hold onto the back of his head as you deepen the kiss. You connect your foreheads together, as both of you were overwhelmed with emotion.

"I love all three of you." you whispered.

Jake smiles as he peppers kisses around your face.

"We love you most."

"That's not possible, I love you all to infinity." You replied.

There was an infectious chuckle that came from Marc.

"There's only one way to settle this." He said, grinning.

You were about to say something until Marc scooped you from your seat and carried you out again.

"Where you taking me now?" You ask, squealing as he carried you upstairs.

"What every bride and groom do on the day of their wedding night." Steven hinted, making your cheeks flush.

You had three men who loved you with every ounce of their body, and swore to protect you as the knights of shining armor they were.

You were always flustered at how the boys treated you so well like a goddamn queen. You found your happily ever after with your knights in shining armor.

[peach33melon]

PAC - Relationship with your current person?

Before I start, remember that these readings may not be accurate. Do not take it to heart, if it's not for you then it isn't for you!!

PILE 1:

Right off the bat, I think you may need to move on Pile 1. There seems to have been a situation involving lies, manipulation, or even this person not being who you thought they were. Whoever it is in this connection seems to be unfit for a relationship right now. They might not be able to fulfill your needs, emotionally and physically. They could also be insecure, aggressive, or just generally unstable.

The best advice I can offer you right now is that you should probably move on, and focus on making important moves. Your person might even be holding you back from rapid, needed growth. Take time for yourself, self care, hobbies, etc. Work on blooming into who you were meant to be, or want to be.

Maybe one day you'll find each other again, but that seems unlikely if there is not change. You will have probably moved onto bigger, and better things.

PILE 2:

Okay, first of all, I think this person and you could be vastly different. Or at least, one or both of you is different to what the other is used to. Someone in this connection could see the other person as more confident, popular, and attractive.

I get the feeling that someone could have been in an unhealthy relationship in the past. This could've caused a large amount of uncertainty and insecurity to fester. As a result, they could've built a large wall around their heart. Now, due to these sudden romantic feelings it's like their whole world is being torn apart. Every negative preconceived notion that they had about about relationships is quickly crumbling.

You make them feel safe and secure, but also so free and nervous. They might want to build a family. They want the big house, long road trips, and bonding time.

It is all SO DIFFERENT to what they're used to, but they're willing to try. A little reassurance is needed I think.

(Also, some of you could already have children and I think this person would not/does not mind, and would actually like having a family around.) They could also just feel comfortable around your family.

PILE 3:

There's so much going on in this pile, dawg. So, you guys either haven't admitted your feelings for each other yet or you're fighting for the 5th time this week alone.

There seems to be a lack of commitment on one side, and perhaps that's what's causing or could cause a disagreement. You might also be apart, or have a star crossed lovers type beat. It's really giving me, "I wanna make out with you so bad rn, but also I need to work on myself first", tbh. There seems to be so much tension but that's kind of what makes it work. One or both of you seems to have so much on their plate at the current moment which might've led to other conflicts. I feel like this is what's kind of causing this rift.

If I'm being honest, both of you might need to take a step back and get together when you feel ready. Don't think you have to be held down or do the things you're used to just because you're involved with someone romantically. This is also what might be causing them to be flighty as well. They're scared of commitment because they think they have to change who they are. You both seem like very dominant people, and it's scaring them because they feel as if they finally met their match.

There could be a problem where one of you drops everything or makes your partner the main priority in your life. Whoever this is needs to learn to balance everything appropriately and take care of themselves first while also communicating with said partner.

That's it!! Sorry if it didn't resonate :(

Tags: @lalalibrah

[jennaflare]

Nextfest Game Demos You Should Try

I've been playing a ton of demos during nextfest (going until 10/21 if you want to try any of these yourself!) and figured I'd spread the good word about some games worth checking out. Naturally, all these demos are free. I trawled mostly through the "story-driven" section, but there's a range of genres I tried. If you like games like Disco Elysium, Pentiment, In Stars and Time, or Night in the Woods, we might have similar taste! (Here's a longer list of games I've enjoyed)

Citizen Sleeper 2: Starward Vector

The sequel to the fantastic sci-fi RPG Citizen Sleeper (which if you haven't played it yet, what are you doing! go! play it!). This game is a Discolike that has its own identity and mechanics. Big emphasis on space capitalism and how awful it is. This one introduces an actual crew to the familiar gameplay of the previous game, which I'm very excited about. I love the idea of actually having my own ship + people aboard it who are a continuous presence in my game. Check! It! Out!

The Rise of the Golden Idol

An extremely good puzzle game where you collect clues and fill in the blanks (literally). I still haven't played the first one (only played the demo for that too) but man! The game mechanics are fun and I love the art soo much. I love solving puzzles and I love how these are decently challenging without feeling like I'm beating my head against a wall.

The Scarlet Deer Inn

An adventure game inspired by Slavic folklore where you play as a mother and innkeeper. All the characters are embroidered!! It's so cool!!! Visually, it evokes Ghibli and Pentiment. The story quickly took a dark turn in the demo, and I am extremely intrigued to see where this project goes. Highly highly recommend checking this one out.

Keep Driving

A lowkey management RPG with great pixel graphics and fun music. You're a young person on a road trip, so you need to maintain your car, work odd jobs to buy gas, and most importantly, have fun! I can easily see myself losing entire days to this game. Fun little gameplay loop. Give it a try!

Mushroom Musume

Raise a mushroom daughter in this pixel RPG! Just in the demo, there's something like 30 endings. I've played through three times and gotten three different mushroom daughters, and the final version (out later this year) will have double the content that's in the demo. The art is great and the game is well-written. I'm going to keep playing this demo until I've exhausted it!

Loco Motive

Point-and-click murder mystery comedy on a train. Great voice acting, fun & bouncy pixel art! Had a great time playing this one. Not a lot to say about it aside from it's fun and made me laugh.

Urban Myth Dissolution Center

Ooooo it's spooky! Another pixel game with really, really fantastic art. You're a new investigator for the Urban Myth Dissolution Center and it's your job to look into rumors of urban legends. This one's also a point-and-click investigation game, though with a bent towards horror. Really looking forward to getting to play the full release for this one.

The League of the Hustlers

A point-and-click adventure game set in 1700s France. You play as the members of a group of rebels who rob & murder nobility, specifically those tied to an organization called the Sons of Sun (I think they said that was the name anyway). I'm intrigued by this one! The demo was short and some of the mechanics are stupid difficult (looking at you, swordfighting minigame), but I was able to skip the section after a few failed attempts. There was very little in the way of instruction on the minigames, so I hope they add that in. I like the art style.

The Edge of Allegoria

Pixel turn-based RPG that takes inspiration from classics of the genre. It goes a little too hard on delivering on the steam store's page promise of "this ain't no f@#%ing kid's game" imo. Like ok I get it, you say fuck a lot and murder squirrels. That said I did have fun with the mechanics, and the humor could probably work for some people. Feels like the kind of game I really would have liked between the ages of 16 and 20 because it was "edgy" and "not for kids." ymmv.

Button Man

Set in 1920s Nova Scotia, you play as an enforcer for a local gangster. I love the vintage comic book art style with the halftones and comic book panels. The controls were a little weird (for some reason I couldn't use WASD for movement) and there's like two different interact buttons and they don't explain either? Didn't get to see too much of the story, but I had fun with it.

My Party Needs an Alchemist

Extremely cute. You play as an alchemist struggling to gather ingredients in a dangerous world. Luckily, you find a party to help you out, you just have to keep them alive! I have been craving an alchemy game that I actually think is fun (aka something that breaks up the monotony of making potions with story or some other minigame or whatever) and this looks very promising! The characters I've met so far are sweet and the art style is adorable. Looking forward to the release for this one.

Rooster

Another cute one. You play as Rooster of the Chinese zodiac, sent back to ancient China to learn a lesson. About being a decent person, I think? The art is cute and the music is nice. It's a very casual experience and feels like it's meant for a younger audience.

Polismos

An ancient Greek citybuilder. It seems very intricate and could potentially be fun! The UI is a bit busy, but that's kind of how citybuilders tend to be. I didn't play too much because I always WANT to like citybuilders but I never find them all that fun. Worth a look if it's your genre, though.

Demos I played so you don't have to

Divinastros - Card game using tarot suit cards & zodiac influences. You're fighting against Olympus (often mispelled in the game as "Olimpus," though the misspelling is inconsistent). I never really figured out how to play because it felt like the rules and objectives were poorly explained. Mediocre art and the game is rife with misspellings and grammatical errors I would have overlooked if the game had been fun. Maybe you'll get the hang of it, though.

Grimfield Mystery - This one was sooo disappointing. The art & vibe of the trailer made me think of Gravity Falls, but the gameplay was clunky, poorly explained, and not really fun. Maybe the full release will improve upon what's here but for now, I don't recommend it, and I'm not wishlisting this one.

Ad Agency Simulator - Another in these weird specific simulator genre. Fun enough, if that's the kind of thing you like. Drag-n-drop ad maker thing. Possibly uses AI art but I really didn't look that hard or play that much so. shrug.

[joju-but-trek]

Star Trek: Prodigy Season 2, Episode 4: Temporal Mechanics 101

It was a long road, but some answers are here.

This whole episode was amazing, but too much of my brain is on the wham shot at the end. More and more, I wish we'd had this as a weekly release because I want to corkboard about this to an unbelievable extent. I genuinely might make a separate post with that disclaimer because there is a lot to go with.

Anyway, the other 24 minutes were even more fun time travel shenanigans, and they did good character work! So really, what more could I ask for? 9/10.

The time travel in this show is so janky. I love it. I especially love that they're exploiting it. The way they got back to the past in this episode was brilliant, and it allowed Jankum some good character beats.

Gwyn having the moment with Ilthan was also nice. I appreciate how the show was able to explore the ways that Ilthan and the Diviner are different, and I do hope we see more of Ilthan as the series goes on.

I also like that Murf is the one who has the twist at the end. Seeing Murf do things as a character is going to be fun. I've never really been a fan of the cute pet characters - it's more a me thing than anything else - and seeing Murf move away from that is nice.

Maj'el and Zero are a great team and I can get behind this. Seeing them work in this episode was fun, especially how they bounced off each other to get the temporal mechanics to work.

Erin MacDonald is back as a science advisor! That's fun, I'm glad she gets to do this recurring bit. I'm so curious how having her record the scene explaining time travel went, because it is sci-fi and having her take it seriously had to be fun.

OK, the Future Guy thing. I don't think that's actually Future Guy, I think it just looks like him. But if I'm wrong and they actually answer one of the biggest unanswered questions from Enterprise, this could be one of the best Star Trek plots ever. I respect that they pulled the reference, though. I'm a fan of Enterprise and it's always nice to see it being acknowledged. Now have Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather show up and this will be my favorite season.