#look I think I cracked it - I think I solved all the problems

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Of my 2% capacity to be attracted to anyone, my type is like 90% women, 5% pretty men and 5% men you would swear are super fucking manly, and never questioned being straight and cis, but are now suddenly *stressed* that they can't figure out why their attraction to me [fully socially interpreted as a woman and labelled that way up until relatively recently] feels incredibly fucking gay

[awesomebutunpractical]

I'm gonna cite "Ford's middle name is Filbrick, which suggests he's the eldest son" as evidence for my 80s Kid Shermie Pines propaganda.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

TF141 reactions to "can you get this thing off the top shelf for me?"

inspired by @cod-dump's height hcs :)

chronologically:

you ask PRICE first. seems like a harmless enough question to you but he just says, "what kind of captain would i be if i solved all your problems for you?"

what the fuck, you think.

"you can do it," he says. "problem-solve. think tall thoughts."

then SOAP walks by, so you ask him next. he sees price standing there looking highly amused (and you looking highly irritated). soap would never, never miss an opportunity to cause problems on purpose, and if price is already picking on you, well...

you're relieved for half a second when soap reaches up and grabs the box you wanted. he opens it, grabs a handful of the granola inside (THAT YOU WANTED) and tosses it into his own mouth. then he puts the box back. on a higher shelf.

by the time GAZ notices what's happening, you're halfway climbing up the shelves to get it your damn self. he sees the shelves leaning away from the wall dangerously and obviously he pushes them back into place with one hand and pulls you back to the ground with the other. does not understand your exasperation with him; he was keeping you from cracking your head open??

so finally GHOST comes up behind you both and grabs the box you want. he turns. offers it to you. finally.

when you go to grab it from him, he keeps ahold of it and leans in. he would like you to share.

...

more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

[coffeebanana]

i headcanon that gabe and emilie would want to create a sentibaby that's a mix of their own DNA--which, why can't they do that? Dusuu's got to use some sort of genetic material

but what if they wanted to test the possible combinations of their DNA before deciding on their perfect designer baby? what if you're adrien agreste model 1.0? it's a little weird when you come into the world, fully grown, and the first thing you're asked to do is turn around slowly on the spot. there's some lady in a mask and a peacock dress, smiling as you stand there, awaiting judgement. her counterpart, standing behind her, seems uncertain. but you don't think much of that. there's no time to think much of that--not when all of a sudden you're sitting at a desk, with pages of equations written on them. problems you're meant to solve.

somehow, you know you've learned this math somewhere--even if you don't remember when or how. but they keep watching you--scrutinizing every line of your pencil. you finally dare to ask them about it--because it's weird, right? and god, if they could just leave you alone for ten minutes, you could probably finish this easily. but your examiners' lips turn down at your outburst. and you're snapped away before you even manage to look back down at the page

what if you're adrien agreste model 13.6, and everything you do elicits little whoops of joy from the peacock lady? in your several hours of existence, you've spoken five different languages and carried out a slew of endurance, agility, and cognitive tests. and most importantly--although you don't know why your examiners seem to praise you for this--you never talked back once

the peacock lady claps her hands together, and even the man behind her--who you've come to realize isn't nearly as easy to crack--can't seem to stop smiling. and you don't understand why something about that fills you with dread, but it does. it's a sort of all-consuming, impossible to shake dread. but you smile through it anyways

you don't know that once you disappear, a smaller version of you will come forth into the world. or that, years later, you'll feel that same sort of sick feeling in your gut

you're adrien agreste model 13.7, and you don't know there's anything weird about the way you came into this world. you don't realize your mother sometimes misses 6.8's dimples, or that your father often wishes they'd gone with 11.2--who would have had a real head for business

and you never do figure out why something always feels just a little bit wrong

[nvuy]

doctor, doctor — veritas ratio

summary. you’re the worst person ever, distract him from his work, beat him at chess, and yet doctor ratio still can’t seem to hate your presence as much as he lets on.

notes. “nvuy please update your fics” NO.

my favourite person ever informed me that when owlbert lists all of ratio’s degrees, chemistry is not one of them, so i thought that was funny. but anyway i always lowkey forget ratio exists but then he appears in game and i go Good Lord and then go about my day. that man’s arms do something to me.

warnings. suggestive content, one intense make out session, you’re a freak LMAO, ratio thinks you’re a freak too, this is lowkey crack, i wrote this tipsy, gn reader but you do wear lipgloss.

“Hi, Doctor.”

Veritas’ fingers slid against the screen like nails on a chalkboard. A headache was already starting to form behind his eyes, and he squeezed them shut for a moment before he unwillingly opened them again.

“Yes. Good evening to you.”

Keep the pleasantries. Don’t yell. Don’t throw a punch. Don’t slam another book on anyone else’s head.

You sat down in the seat beside him with a purple soda can in your hand. “Whatcha doin’?”

Veritas cleared his throat. “I’m working.” He glanced up at the top of his screen. “And, judging by the time, you should be working as well.”

You weren’t even listening, choosing instead to pick up a stray notebook that he’d left on the desk. The page was filled with scribble and stupid math symbols—actually, that was not scribble. That was just his handwriting.

Gross. You grimaced at the page before you turned it. The next page, and the next, creased and scarred with harsh pen markings, looked undoubtedly the same.

“Work is for losers,” was all you remarked. You obnoxiously sipped at your drink.

Ratio scoffed. “How you even landed a position working for Madame Herta is beyond me. You are clearly a liability.”

You snorted. “I got hired because I’m sexy and smart.” You were picking at your nails, painted a deep purple like his hair. “You’re only here because Miss Asta needed help. After her problem is solved, you can go back to moping about how you don’t have a chemistry degree.”

You watched his jaw visibly tighten. His teeth gnashed together, and you swore you could hear them grinding behind his lips.

“It is a work in progress,” was all he said.

“Yap, yap.” You made a talking gesture with your hands. “I’m the professional here. That’s why Miss Asta made me lead chemist.”

Such a shame your ego overshadowed such a pretty face.

“What do you want?” he asked, trying to return to his notebook.

“I want to play chess.”

“I’m busy.”

You blew a raspberry. You punched him playfully in the shoulder. You almost hurt your knuckles bopping his bicep. “You’re just scared you’ll lose.”

His glanced up so quickly you swore you heard his neck crack. He raised an eyebrow in a challenging gesture, as if daring you to repeat yourself.

You only stared at him expectantly.

“One game,” he rushed out, face reddening in frustration. The look he gave you could’ve killed, but you knew him better than that. His strangely jacked physique wasn’t built to maim, and if he wanted to smack you with his tablet, he would’ve done so already. “And if I win, you will leave me alone.”

“Mmm, okay.” You shrugged. “And if I win, I get a kiss.” You tapped your cheek twice.

Veritas reeled back. Then, taken aback, he spluttered, “that’s all?”

You took another sip of your drink.

Then, you blinked. “Yep.”

Ratio, too, reciprocated, blinking wildly as if he hadn’t even processed what had come out of your mouth.

You grinned at him, eyes crinkling below your lashes as he eyed you down like he was viewing a sample through a microscope.

Then, he sighed. “Fine.” He tapped away on his screen. One of his floating gadgets projected a holographic chessboard onto his desk. “I suppose somebody has to dull that ego of yours.”

You leaned back in your seat and waved him off lightly. “You can go first.”

The chessboard flipped, and the white pieces faced him.

*ೃ༄

“Hey, does this thing have speech detection?” You leaned closer to the board. “Knight to B4.”

As expected, the small porcelain knight upon the board moved forward into its newly assigned position.

Ratio scoffed, clearly irritated. His fingers tapped idly against the desk. “You are so frustratingly lazy. It’s a miracle you get your work done, and such a shame it impedes your potential brilliance.”

You only made another talking motion with your hands. As he thought long and hard about his next move, you yawned. He took everything so seriously.

No wonder he was so jacked. He was constantly tense. It probably counted as a workout.

“You think I’m brilliant?” you asked with a smile.

“I think you have selective hearing.” Finally, he moved one of his pieces forward. “But, yes. Miss Asta speaks highly of you.”

“Aww. I’ll give her a smooch later.” That was a relief to hear, actually. Sometimes you worried if she’d boot you out of your position because of your tardiness. It was good that she still wanted you working in the station, despite lagging behind on reports and important meetings.

When you glanced up from the board after telling a pawn to move forward one space, Ratio’s eyes caught yours before he briskly looked down at the hologram once more.

Ratio was trying to read the board. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Just what are you doing?”

“Winning.”

“You are not winning.”

“Sure I am.” You leaned back in the seat once more. “Checkmate.”

Veritas’ eyes snapped up to gawp at you.

“Excuse me?”

“Checkmate,” you repeated. “I know I’m distracting. I have that effect on loser nerds with big egos.”

Veritas was staring at the board again. He was trying to piece together your previous moves, as the holographic board began to play in reverse. He was no cheat, no, never, and you didn’t expect him to do it as you were watching either, but it was clear as day.

He lost.

Your tongue carded along the rim of the soda can. “L-O-L.”

“This doesn’t even make sense,” Veritas mumbled, fingers rubbing circles into his temples. “You didn’t even have a plausible strategy.”

“Yeah, I did.” You placed a defensive hand over your heart. “You just don’t know it, because I have such a great poker face.”

“Chess doesn’t warrant a poker face.”

“Well, then, if you’re not willing to know my genius strategy–”

“No.” Veritas glared at you. “You will tell me.”

“Sure. I’m more worried about my reward, though.”

The look he gave you made you howl with laughter. It was a twist of his lips into something unsavoury as if he’d just swallowed a shot of vinegar. His brows knitted together and those unfairly long dark lashes casted a jagged shadow over his cheeks.

The chess board disappeared with a small noise and the screen returned to normal.

You leaned forward, batting your own lashes at him.

Veritas, after displaying a shaky grimace on his lips, met you halfway and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to your cheek.

You looked offended when he pulled back.

You whined. “What was that?”

“Your reward,” he argued.

“You just brushed your lips on me. Do you kiss everyone like that?” You were quite literally sulking, more so to get on his nerves.

It was working.

You swore you noticed a vein twinge on his temple. “I don’t just kiss anyone, thank you. Especially not over a game of chess.”

“You’re not getting my genius strategy, then.”

“Fine.”

This time, when his lips went for your cheek again, you turned your head.

Veritas let out an embarrassing noise that you’d never forget.

When he tried to pull away, clearly flustered and radiating so hot you were convinced he’d combust right there in his chair, you locked a hand in his hair.

Flustered for a moment, he then returned your enthusiasm ten fold, large hands curling around your waist and keeping the excited jittering of your legs still.

“Somebody will see,” he mumbled against your lips quietly.

To address his concerns, you dipped down lower in your seat behind the wall of his desk. Anyone that was watching would look away if they knew what was good for them.

Pulling away from his lips proved difficult. You caught the taste of his evening coffee, as well as the scent of cashmeran, and something that smelled faintly of chestnut and the smoky smell of a nice warm fireplace.

“You smell nice,” you whispered. Your voice was slightly hoarse. “What’re you wearing?”

The grin you had stretched on your face said it all.

Veritas snarled against your lips. “A physics degree.”

His lips hit your teeth when you grinned. “Can’t taste better than a chemistry degree.”

“You are horrible.”

Your hand crept along the waistband of his pants, feeling along the ribbons and the sleek expensive material. It was like cotton, but somehow even softer against your fingers, as if the thread count was bordering on six-hundred.

He reeled back when he finally processed the feeling of your fingertips slipping below his clothes. “Watch yourself.”

“Blah, blah, blah.” He made no effort to remove your hands, so a finger then hooked beneath the border of the hole over his chest. “Come ‘ere, Doctor.”

The light in your eyes was almost as intimidating as when you pressed your lips back into his, this time firmer, as if you were trying to mould your skin to his.

His skin was surprisingly warm for how cold he behaved. His scent was addicting. Freshly printed books and a warm winter’s night.

It tore a low and pleasant groan from your throat.

Surprisingly, he did not push away when your lips slipped from his mouth and traced the line of his jaw.

Instead, he sighed defeatedly and angled his jaw for you. You hummed, clearly content.

“Enjoying yourself?” he mused.

“Mhm.” You wondered whether he’d let you suck a bruise beneath his ear. “You’re soft. For a man.”

Veritas scoffed at that. He would insist that you were softer, but he instead bit his tongue. Of course he was soft. He took care of his skin, and he didn’t waste his life away drinking that filth you called soda.

He usually hated that artificial grape flavour, but he supposed the taste of your lips helped quell the awful amount of sugar still resting on your tongue.

He stiffened beneath you. He hadn’t even realised you had crawled into his lap. “Are you leaving marks?”

“Yep.” Your lips had dipped down to the base of his neck to stain the thin stretch of skin there.

“Oh, you–!” His eyes squeezed shut when your teeth carded along his jugular in warning.

The poor man looked two seconds away from a heart attack. His pupils almost turned to slits. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to push you away or draw you closer. It was a mix of heat and blur that made his vision swirl with colour.

He felt unreasonably dizzy. He was grateful he was still sitting at his desk, for he was sure his knees would have given out beneath him otherwise.

Your lips pulled back for a moment. Sticky. He could smell a tinge of kiwi fruit from the gloss smeared over your lips. He was sure it was lathered all over his jaw like thick paste. The remaining hour of his shift would be a mix of rushing the rest of his report, and trying to scrub your makeup from his face.

Part of him wanted the stains to stay there, as unprofessional the thought was.

His silent brooding while your thighs warmed his were interrupted by approaching heels. Black kitten heels, to be exact, with a dark pinkish plum soles. He recognised her footsteps from miles away.

His heart stopped.

“Um… Doctor Ratio? I’m just receiving word that– oh my stars!”

Too late.

Veritas sprang from his seat, shoving you back into your own chair, much to your chagrin. Your hand fell from beneath the material of his shirt.

The damage had already been done, however.

Poor Lead Astronomer Asta stood frozen, face red, holding a clipboard with way too many pink highlighted paragraphs on the paper.

Veritas awkwardly cleared his throat, and tried to wipe the sticky gloss off his lips. “The report will be with you in an hour.”

Asta merely blinked at him. Her cheeks were brighter than her hair.

Her eyes then flitted towards you. She looked like she had seen a ghost.

You waved. “Hey, queen.”

Then, she nodded once in a greeting, squeaked an, “okay, thanks,” to the doctor and then rushed away, still hot in the face.

You could see the uneven rise and fall of Veritas’ chest. You were sure his heart was racing beneath his skin; yours was exactly the same, maybe arguably even quicker.

“Terrific.” Veritas turned his head to ridicule you. Scary for a dude with lipgloss smeared all over his face. “You’ve traumatised the poor girl.”

He heard you sigh. “I was just getting started.” You slouched in your chair, defeated. You checked your watch, noticing the giant seven tick over. “I’m hungry.”

“Eat, then. It’s dinner time.” He sat back down in his chair after he was sure he’d cleaned his face of your makeup.

“I was having dinner.” You finished the last of your soda and tapped at the can absentmindedly with your nails. “And was just getting to dessert.”

“You have an awful tongue.” He waved you off with his hands, fed up. “Now, shoo. I’m busy.”

“You’re so boring. What do you do for fun? Read?” He opened his mouth to answer, but you stopped him before he could embarrass himself even further. “Don’t answer that.”

Veritas rolled his eyes.

Instead, he chose to ignore you and pull the data back up onto his screen. His handwriting is still the most horrific thing you’ve ever seen, but it’s almost fascinating watching him write like that.

It’s just a line that only he can understand. Like his own nerd language.

You found it sort of hot.

Your eyes darted over to the bathroom door. “Hey, Doctor… What about–”

His eyes flared, and his grip on his pen grew tighter. He almost split a hole into the paper. "We are not having a rendezvous in the bathroom, nor will I be coming home with you.”

"Aww."

"But, for what's its worth, I commend your bravery in asking such a bizarre thing."

Ooh, praise. Lovely. "Eh." You clicked your tongue and leaned forward to kiss the side of his hair. “Worth a try.”

When you pull away, he does not look up, but his cheeks are tinged a lovely pink.

[san8ny]

Can you do tutor!reader and dealer!Ellie where r is tutoring Ellie and Ellie falls head over heels, walking r to class, driving her home, and even helping her release some stress after a hard exam

SQUARE ROOT OF WHAT ?

?: You’ve been chosen to tutor someone for a quick cash-grab, but do they have to be this dumb? Maybe you’ll have to change your teaching style a bit.. / E.W / 18+

!: back to mfin BACK!!

“That's like, not correct."

Ellie lifts her head up with the hundredth tired look, meeting your strict one with oddity— how were you still so into this after lecturing her for a good..2 hours? She was sure you’d give up on her like the rest did.

Sighing, you lean over her and hold the pencil steady for her in her own grip as you show her where and when to mark the numbers down..or round them, whatever you were saying.

To be fair, Ellie did want to pass this class bad, but her eyes were beginning to strain from how many steps it came to solving this equation and mainly how you had good tits— what? Your eyes widen and you step back a bit, covering your neckline now.

Fuck, did she say that out-loud?

Scrambling from where she had her head laid on the table, knocking down her chair in the process and slipping onto the floor— she panic strickenly apologizes, informing you she wasn’t thinking straight Literally, and that she didn’t mean it in a weird way!

Modestly, you nod, trying to conceal the faint hue your facial undertones bring out, like the girl you were tutoring didn’t just say you had the nicest rack she’d ever seen. Coughing slightly, you two sit back down at the roundtable.

“Okay, maybe we should take a small break here and meet sometime this week then? You can’t exactly do math with a uh, clouded mind.”

Ellie nods at this, bringing her hand down to rub at her nape nervously, “Yeah, good point.”

Nodding, you begin to gather your stuff, and while Ellie should take that as an initiative to get the hell up and leave, she stays back a bit, awkwardly lingering as she crouches down and hands you the broken protractor she’d cracked earlier. You give a curt smile as you take it from her, not exactly seeing the use of the broken equipment but also not having the heart to tell her “just throw it away,” so you put the cracked pieces in your bookbag.

“Again, man, i’m so fuckin’ sorry. I swear i’m not like, a pervert or stuff, I don’t even say that shi—

You interrupt her with a slight hand gesture, telling her all was well and that you actually weren’t offended, taking the bold statement as somewhat of a compliment. Ellie stares at you, tilting her head. Really?

You wave to her once more before leaving, insisting you needed to catch the city-bus but the girl shakes her head with wide eyes. No way she was letting someone like you on public transport at 9pm. No offense, but she’d had her fair share of naïvely taking it during late hours most would avoid the transportation.

With not much convincing, both of you knowing exactly who’s reasonings outweigh the other, she leads you to her car. It’s not as bad of a vehicle you’d envisioned for her, afterall, some scratches and dents were expected of someone who dabbled in street-racing and delinquency as Ellie, but her car was surprisingly clean and pristine, a newer edition of a make-model you weren’t too knowledgeable about, but then again, a car was a car.

As Ellie starts the car and begins driving, you put in the address on her GPS. “Oh! Actually, could you put it in my phone instead? My car one is faulty.” Nodding, you grab her phone, opening it with the passcode she reads out to you, once you’ve got your address in, Ellie cashes more in, “And your number.”

Your eyebrow raises at this, side balling her, was this her lame attempt at getting your number? She had no problem just..meeting you at the library prior to this at the designated spot and tine, how come she need your digits now?

“Ah..just for if I don’t show or something comes up?” You smile, typing your phone in while Ellie spares you a short glance but then back to the road, “You got it.”

From there on, it became a routine between you two. You would text often, meet up for your sessions then she’d drop you off— it was ideal for the both of you, only you found yourself wanting more.

Ellie was book-dumb. A ditz in cargo shorts. There was no doubt about that, but, she had other assets to make up for that. For one, you didn’t find yourself falling for her until she’d tell you all about her loser endeavors, like how she found a ‘make your own sillybands’ set on Amazon and she spent an entire school night making elastic bracelets or maybe, that time she added a drop of NyQuil Cough Syrup to her drink and swore down she made lean. She was a character to say the least.

Right now, she was laying on your couch as you read her flashcards. Surprisingly, she was rapidly answering.

“That’s all.” You smile, noticing her blatant improvement, “You finished them all. You’re good for the test.”

While Ellie would smile at that, she looks down at her palms, tracing the lines before taking a small shrug. You look at her confused, wasn’t she happy?

The girl stares at you some more before sitting up fully, her knees pressing yours, “We’ll..still hang after this, right?” You don’t answer right away, looking at her with a slightly dropped jaw. Ellie takes that as an answer, scooting in closer, “Right?” Her breath fans over your face a bit, proving how overwhelmingly close in proximity she was to you.

That’s one thing you’ve noticed about Ellie, and probably the only place you two collide in, the constant need for reassurance. Finding your footing, you nod, “ ‘course.” To that, she smiles.

“Well, we’re done so you’re free from my shankles for today.” You snort, laying back on the couch and reaching for your phone. Ellie hums, reaching behind her and taking out a small encasing baggie. You weren’t dumb, you could recognize weed at first glance. “You don’t mind, do you?” She coughs, leaning back too into the sofa. What else could you have said? “No, I don’t.”

Her eyes get glossy in a few passes is what you see, already so relaxed than the previous state she was in prior to this. You sit there, tracing her forearm with your nails lightly, a habit you’ve had since childhood, though no-one really complains about it.

Ellie hums, turning her head to face where you sit next to her, you’re so fucking pretty that it almost hurts her. With a slight shiver once she hits the blunt again, she leans in to nuzzle her face into your neck, laying on you softly in a slight spooning position. You were also, very warm.

You smile, raking through her hair with said fingertips, massaging her scalp. “Does it feel good?” Ellie nods, seemingly dazed by how skilled your hands were. Reaching a hand up into her hair, she grabs ahold of yours, bringing it down to her lips— pressing a chaste kiss to your soft knuckles. Your breath hitches at this, and she just looks up at you, “I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Ellie..” Your eyes widen, mouth growing drier with each passing moment her eyes are transfixed on you. Geez, she really was adamant. “You don’t need to make me feel good, dude..” You nervously chuckle, not wanting to believe her words had deeper implications.

Ellie mouth opens, but shuts again, like a fish in water when you say that to her. You don’t want her to return the favor? How come? Is there something wrong with her palms? Do you think she’s dirty? Or do you just want her to get the hell up out of your house?

Her eyes alternate from your own ones to your lips, scooting closer to your face, “But I wanna.”

Now, you were a moaning mess on your slouchy couch, legs pried open with some rando you tutor giving you the best head you’ve had in a while, “Fuckkk..use more tongue.” You sigh, hand buried in her hair as you steer her, desperately lapping at your folds while you smoke her blunt.

Ellie nods repeatedly, burying her face even further into your cunt messily, spitting on it and licking it back up. Greedy..

“You’re so good f’me, hm? That why you purposely act stupid whenever i’m teaching you math? U-ungh..you’re so dumb, caving into whatever bitch gives you a smidge of attention.”

She’s genuinely about to cry from how mean you’re being, but she’s never been so aroused from such humiliation. She tries lifting her head up to give a rebuttal but you shove her back down.

“Y’know, actually, trace the equation earlier on me right now.” You snicker, “Maybe that’ll be our new method to get that empty head of yours to work.”

[mattybsgroupie]

mine | matt sturniolo

contents: cursing; fighting; (kinda) toxic relationship; handjob (m receiving); oral (f receiving); use of “y/n”; lowkey sub!matt

- ♡ -

as we arrived at his house, i slammed the door shut behind me. “can you stop being an asshole?” i yelled, getting closer to him.

“yes? if you stop acting like a fucking whore” matt said, raising his voice at me.

“shut up matthew” i was serious this time, and he could it see it in my eyes. “don’t act like you didn’t notice how every fucking girl there was hitting on you”.

matt rolled his eyes back, giving me a whole grin before shouting “you sat on his LAP!”

“he’s my friend!” i answered. “i know him longer than i’ve known you!”

“you’re my fucking girl!”, his loud voice filled the living room to the point it made me shrug, not being able to get a word out of my mouth.

i stayed there, quiet. my arms were crossed as i stared into his eyes — i could instantly tell he regretted saying that. matt was moving in circles, scratching his freshly shaved beard and cracking his knuckles before coming back to me.

“okay? you’re my girl y/n. you can’t do shit like that and expect me to be fine about it” he grabbed my face with both of his hands and stared back at me, talking in an angry, almost demanding tone. his touch, however, was still soft.

“no matthew, i’m not your fucking girl if you’re not gonna be my fucking guy. what the fuck was that scene for?” i put my hands over his and removed them.

“listen y/n, i can’t do this. i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry but it’s better if we go to sleep. i’m fucking tired and you’re drunk” matt never liked to sort things out during a heated moment. he needed some time alone to align his thoughts and finally being able to solve the problem.

“i’m not drunk, matt. i had a couple drinks with your brother, that’s all”.

“and that explains how you end up grinding over some guy’s lap?” he asked me again, and now i was the one who didn’t want to keep on fighting.

“you know what? you’re right. it’s better if we go to bed. but i’m gonna go back to my fucking bed, at my fucking house” i said as i walked out, not bothering looking at his face. “so have a good night by yourself matthew, you ruined the whole night”.

i stopped by the sidewalk, trying to put myself together as tears began to form in my eyes. not only i was angry and disappointed at matt, but i had no one to take me back home since he’s been the one doing this for the past year. on top of that, the weather had completely changed and i was fucking freezing.

i heard the door unlocking and his steps getting closer, but i didn’t dare looking back.

“y/n, what the fuck are you doing? come inside” matt asked and i realized he had snapped out of it already. his voice was tender and full of emotion.

“no, i’m calling an uber”.

“babe” low blow. matt knows how much i like it when he calls me pet names. “it’s late. please come, it’s getting fucking cold here”.

“good” i turned without thinking and finally saw his face again. just like me, he had red cheeks and eyes filled with tears. “you should freeze to death”.

“yeah, i’ll keep that in mind” he smiled. “y/n i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i didn’t say to those girls i had a girlfriend and i’m sorry i raised my voice at you. i know i shouldn’t have done that, can you please forgive me? please?” matt looked at me with puppy eyes. “you don’t have to do it right now but at least get inside. i’ll drop you off in the morning after you rest and we’ll fix things up. please, babe”.

i nodded my head, agreeing silently - i wasn’t gonna say a word to him. i got back to the house and quickly went upstairs, making myself comfortable in his big bed. matt didn’t follow me, and though i wouldn’t lock the door on him, he knew he was going to sleep on the couch.

- ♡ -

i glanced at the nightstand clock, 3AM. i couldn’t fall asleep without matt. i missed his smell, his touch, his warmth, the way he’d let me rest my head over his chest while caressing my back or the days where he’d give up acting tough and giving in to my touch, deeply asleep while i kept running my fingers through his curls.

i went downstairs. i had to - my heart was as heavy as my eyes.

i saw matt all curled up on the plain couch, not having a blanket or a pillow. he hadn’t even changed his clothes, still wearing the same grey jeans and black shirt he went out with earlier.

i instinctively got closer and lied down with him, trying my best to not wake matt up. just being around him like this made me let out a long breathe, finally being able to relax.

“hm? babe?” he murmured, too sleepy to actually look at me.

“cant sleep without you. shut up”

“c’m here” matt opened his arms, allowing me to snuggle into him “are you still mad? i love you. love you so much”

i loved him even more. gosh, how much i love him.

i tried to get even closer to him, glueing our bodies together as my hand rested on his thigh. i couldn’t help but kiss his jaw, playfully biting all over him. he giggled softly, melting into my touch as i kept trailing down his neck with kisses.

as i reached his sweet spot, i noticed matt’s breath had gotten slower and heavier. he didn’t say anything - in fact, i don’t think he even bothered opening his eyes - but didn’t complain as i deepened my pecks, slowing sucking onto his pale skin.

of course i was gonna give matt a hickey. if he says i’m his, then i’ll show he’s also mine.

i slowly moved my hands to his waistband, altering between tickling his lower belly and teasing his boxers.

“y/n… fuck” matt mumbled.

“hm? want me to stop?” i asked just to make sure.

“n-no, don’t. i’m… getting hard” he stared at his pants before giving me puppy eyes once again.

“are you gonna be a good boy and behave for once, matt?”

“uhum. yes yes i will” matt started speaking mindlessly, agreeing with anything i'd tell him to do.

“yeah? gonna stop acting like you’re a tough guy?”

“y-you know that im not that tough…” he whispered shyly before looking away.

“you’re right. you’re just a silly boy, aren’t you matthew?” no response. “answer me.”

“y/n, please”

“please what?”

“please let me touch you” he leaned in, trying to kiss my lips. i didn't let him go any further than a peck. “need you so bad”.

“let me take care of you first, hm?” i asked, eventually getting a grip of his bulge over his pants.

“yes babe, fuck” he nodded frantically, eager for me to get him off.

“don’t you think it’s funny?” i said, adjusting myself on the sofa so i could finally unbutton his jeans. “few hours ago you were man enough to call me a slut”. i put my hands inside matt’s pants, palming his hardened cock through his boxers. i could feel a wet spot building up, letting me know his pre-cum was already leaking. “and now you can’t even say what you want?” i teased.

“wanna be good for you” he whimpered as i removed his last piece of cloth, freeing his dick out. matt’s hips bucked into the air, begging to get some friction. “please, please, i’ll behave! i promise i’ll be your good boy”, he cried. poor thing.

i went back to kissing matt while wrapping my fingers around his length, pumping him at a slow pace. i could hear his whines and the small moans he tried to cover by biting his own lips. i placed my thumb at his tip, circling it and spreading the pre-cum down his cock.

matt had gone even quieter, left arm covering half of his face as if he was too embarrassed to admit how much he needed my touch.

soon enough, i had fastened my pace and tightened my grip, his voice finally coming out “i’m gonna cum”.

“did you get permission?”, i asked. he knew how things worked.

“f-fuck y/n, please. wanna cum so bad” matt whimpered once again, cheeks as red as his tip.

“well, you weren’t being a good boy today. do you really think you deserve it?”

“im sorry ah-” he moaned loudly “please, wanna cum. wanna cum for you” he kept repeating over and over, suddenly replacing the words with babbles full of lewd sounds. i could tell how hard he was trying to not release, worried he’d wouldn’t be a good boy anymore.

“go on, baby boy. make a mess for me” it took matt just a few seconds to sputter his cum all over my hand with a loud cry, hips jointing forward during his orgasm. i kept on softly palming his cock as he came back from his high, trying my best to not overstimulate him.

“you're SO fucking good” matt groaned, eyes still closed. “oh” he noticed i had my hand full of his release, “can i make it up to you?”

i nodded and matt grabbed his jeans to clean us up in the sloppiest way i've ever seen. he pulled his boxers back up and got off the couch, leaving me with furrowed eyebrows as i tried to understand whatever he was planning to do. he then took his shirt off so i could see all the purple spots i've left throughout his neck and collarbone, throwing it somewhere and kneeling in front of me. fuck.

matt placed his hands by the sides of my legs and decided to rest his face on my thighs, deeply starring at me with those blue eyes that would drive me insane. he then placed his fingers on my waistband, teasing me in the same way i had done earlier. it didn’t took long until he realized i wasn't wearing any panties and the sweaters i had on were, in fact, his.

“no panties and you don't want me calling you a slut?” he asked before licking his lips.

“matt, be a good boy” i said, reminding him of what had just happened.

“well” he slowly started removing my pants. “i think you should learn how to be a good girl as well”.

i was now fully exposed and matt couldn't shut up about it “you're so fucking wet”, he'd say while placing kisses on the insides of my thighs. as he got closer to my crotch and his kisses turned into love bites, i lost my sense of control - we had the same power over each other, each one of us letting go of any and all armors during intimate moments like this one.

i couldn't help but forcing my hips down on him, whining as i felt his heavy breathing against my clit. matt smiled and looked at me before giving one long lick from my hole back to my clit, just like a kitten. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me and my hands instinctively went to his fluffy hair, holding onto him as if my life depended on it.

i was already on the verge of releasing - anything from him would make me come right on the spot. matt kept on scratching my thighs and occasionally holding my hips to stop me from moving around so much.

“fuck babe, your pussy is so fucking pretty” he said as he moved to my entrance, teasing me with the tip of his tongue. my dripping wet cunt made it easier for matt to get in, and he already knew i was getting close as my pussy throbbed over his face.

not a single word came out of my mouth, the living room being filled with my high pitched whimpers when matt placed his thumb over my clit and played with it - while still eating me out.

“wanna taste you” he almost begged. “wasn't i your good boy? shouldn't you cum in my mouth as a reward?” he started sucking my clit and when my eyes met his, i was thrown off the edge. my orgasm crashed down on me, making my legs tremble as i kept on moaning, matt slowing driving me through it.

i came back to my senses and found matt looking so satisfied, as if he actually had an entire meal - swollen, wet lips, messy hair and the biggest smile on his face. he came closer to my face and allowed me to have a taste of myself in a lewd kiss, both of us acknowledging our fight was over.

“i love you so much”, he whispered. “i love you even more” i said, pulling him back up to the sofa and tangling my legs around his waist, letting his body collapse onto mine as we went on our way to finally get some sleep.

- ♡ -

[aventurineswife]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request Aventurine, Ratio and Dan Heng (separately) with a female S/O who never calls them handsome or hot because in her opinion that's overrated? And instead when she compliments their looks she always calls them something more poetic I guess, like "You're gorgeous", "mesmerizing" or just calls them pretty?

Please and thank you.

More Than a Pretty Face

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Romance, Fluff, Light Humor, Emotional Moments, Introspection.

Aventurine lounged on a velvet chaise in his opulent quarters, his earring catching the light as he idly shuffled a deck of cards. “Tell me, darling,” he said, flashing his signature smile, “on a scale from dashing to devastatingly gorgeous, where do I stand today?”

You chuckled from across the room, rolling your eyes as you adjusted a vase of desert lilies. “I’d say... clever. Maybe a touch insufferable.”

Aventurine’s smile faltered, replaced by a mock pout. “Clever? That’s all? You wound me.”

You turned to him, hands on your hips, your gaze warm but teasing. “Oh, come on. You don’t need me to inflate your ego. You’ve got mirrors for that.”

“True,” he admitted, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. “But a man like me thrives on compliments.”

You approached, your voice softening. “Then here’s one you don’t hear enough—you’re brilliant, Aventurine. The way you outmaneuvered those IPC board members today? It was genius. That’s why I’m with you. Not because of your looks.”

For a moment, his facade cracked, and the weight of your words settled over him. He reached for your hand, pulling you onto the chaise beside him. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “And you’re more than just a pretty face, even if you like pretending otherwise.”

Aventurine laughed, a genuine sound that filled the room. “Darling, you may be the only gamble I’ve ever taken that feels like a sure thing.”

Ratio was deep in thought, sketching out a complex theorem on his holographic tablet. You sat nearby, engrossed in a book, though your eyes occasionally flicked to him. The way the strands of his hair fell into his eyes, his intense focus—it was hard not to admire him.

“Something on your mind?” he asked without looking up, his sharp intuition catching your gaze.

You shrugged. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“How you’re... brilliant. And maybe a little intimidating.”

Ratio finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Brilliant, I’ll accept. Intimidating, though? That’s a first.”

You set your book aside, crossing the room to stand beside him. “You’re intimidating because you always seem so sure of yourself. Like there’s no challenge you can’t overcome.”

He leaned back in his chair, studying you with curiosity. “You could simply call me handsome, you know. It’s what most people resort to when they’re unsure how to express admiration.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Handsome is overrated. Plenty of people are handsome. But how many can look at a problem no one else can solve and find the answer?”

Ratio’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. “Flattery through intellect. Unexpected, but effective.”

You leaned down, brushing a kiss against his temple. “Good. Because that’s the kind of man I fell for—the one who challenges the universe, not just the mirror.”

Dan Heng sat in the archives of the Astral Express, organizing old data files with his usual quiet precision. You entered, carrying two steaming cups of tea. You set one beside him and took a seat across the table, watching him work.

“You don’t have to hover,” he said without looking up, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

“Who’s hovering? I’m just... admiring the view,” you teased.

Dan Heng’s gaze finally met yours, one eyebrow raised. “Admiring?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your tea. “What? You’re not used to me watching you?”

“I’m used to you avoiding words like ‘handsome’ or ��hot.’ It’s... unusual.”

You set your cup down, leaning forward. “That’s because those words don’t do you justice. You’re more than that.”

His expression softened, the faintest hint of a blush coloring his cheeks. “More than that?”

“Yeah. You’re dependable. Thoughtful. A little too serious sometimes, but it’s part of your charm.” You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. “You’re the kind of person people can rely on. That’s what makes you special, not just the way you look.”

Dan Heng’s silence spoke volumes, the weight of your words sinking in. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with genuine gratitude. “That means more than you know.”

You smiled, resting your chin in your hand. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me, Mr. Reliable.”

For the first time in a while, Dan Heng allowed himself a small, genuine smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ʙ ʟ ᴏ ᴏ ᴅ ʏ ʜ ᴇ ᴀ ʀ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Wade Wilson x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Wade notices you during a routine grocery run, of all places. You’re just minding your own business, deciding between two brands of pasta, when you laugh softly at a joke the store clerk makes. That laugh? It’s like Cupid’s arrow. Except Cupid’s been replaced by Deadpool, and instead of an arrow, he’s throwing knives.

At first, Wade convinces himself it’s just a harmless crush. "She’s just a cute, innocent civilian! Nothing to see here, folks!" But then you smile at him one day when he’s pretending to be lost in the store (he’s not lost, he’s following you), and that smile? Yeah, it’s burned into his brain like a bad tattoo. It’s over for him.

Obsession kicks in faster than a chimichanga order at his favorite food truck. Wade starts shadowing you. He calls it "protective surveillance." Others might call it stalking. To him, it’s romantic. He knows where you work, your favorite coffee order, your pet’s name, and, oh yeah, your emergency contact info because he’s totally hacked into your phone. "It’s not creepy if it’s for love, right?"

Wade leaves little “gifts” for you. At first, it’s innocent: a bouquet of flowers mysteriously delivered to your desk at work, with a card signed “Your Secret Admirer xoxo.” Then it escalates: tickets to your favorite band (how does he know??), a sweater in your exact size, and, uh…a suspiciously clean skull with a note: "He was thinking bad things about you. You’re welcome. Love, Wade. P.S. Hope you like bone décor!"

When you finally meet him in full Deadpool gear (because of course he crashes your evening walk to "rescue" you from a totally harmless raccoon), Wade is… well, Wade. He’s charming in that over-the-top, inappropriate way. He cracks jokes faster than you can process them, and you can’t decide if he’s insane, hilarious, or terrifying. (Spoiler: He’s all three.)

Wade doesn’t see himself as a villain in your story. He sees himself as your knight in bloody armor. He’s convinced the world is full of people who don’t appreciate you the way he does. He’s not above breaking into your apartment to leave notes of affirmation or making you dinner (which you find out about when you come home to a table set with candles and a smug Deadpool sitting in your chair). "I’m like Martha Stewart, but hotter, funnier, and with a body count!"

He adores you. Like, worships the ground you walk on. You are, in Wade’s mind, the single greatest thing that’s ever happened in his miserable life. He talks to himself (breaking fourth wall) about you constantly—sometimes out loud, even in public. "Did you see her today? She wore that cute little sweater I like. God, I’d kill for her. Wait, I already did! Add another tally to the scoreboard, baby!"

Wade is insanely jealous. He doesn’t see you as property, exactly—more like a priceless artifact that no one else should touch. If anyone flirts with you, they’re immediately labeled as “a problem.” And Wade? Wade solves problems. Permanently. Sometimes with a grenade.

Despite his insanity, Wade genuinely tries to make you happy. He tones down the murder (a little) when you make it clear you’re not into the whole “blood and guts” thing. He’ll still threaten anyone who looks at you wrong, but hey, progress, right?

Wade's softer side shines through in quiet moments. He’ll hold you close when you’re upset, whispering (weirdly comforting) jokes in your ear. He’ll memorize all your favorite things, so he can surprise you with them when you’ve had a bad day. He may be psychotic, but his love is as real as it gets.

But make no mistake: Wade will do anything to keep you by his side. He’ll manipulate, scheme, and murder his way through any obstacle standing between you and "happily ever after." And if you ever tried to leave him? Oh, honey. Don’t even think about it. "We’re meant to be together, Y/N. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like chimichangas and guac. Like…me and you. Forever. Whether you like it or not."

Obsessed Wade is intense. He’s equal parts terrifying and oddly endearing, which makes him a constant rollercoaster of chaos. At the end of the day, his love is as messy and unpredictable as he is—but hey, at least he’ll make sure you’re never bored.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[godsfavdarling]

Unexpected

my masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You unexpectedly get your period at Spencer's place. words: 730 warnings: period, fluff, spencer is perfect <3 a/n: this is a request I got on my Wattpad from some lovely soul. hope you like it!

Spencer’s hand rested on yours, his fingers gently entwined with yours as you both relaxed at his place. 

One of your favorite movies played on the screen - a film Spencer had insisted on watching because he was determined to know every detail about you, including all the movies you’d ever liked.

Curled up together, the evening had been perfect so far - until now. 

Until you felt something was off.

A dull ache had been nagging at your lower abdomen all day, but you'd brushed it off as nothing - probably from all the snacks you’d been indulging in recently. 

Plus, you’d been wearing tight pants and hadn’t moved around much. Maybe you just hadn’t been taking good care of your body lately.

But then you felt it - an unmistakable, sudden warmth. 

Your heart plummeted. This wasn’t happening. 

Not here. 

Not now. You shifted uncomfortably, praying it wasn’t what you thought it was.

Spencer, ever the attentive one, turned his head towards you, concern immediately coloring his face. "Are you okay?"

You mustered a smile. "Yeah, fine. Just, uh, can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course," he said, pausing the movie, his brow furrowing slightly as he watched you get up, sensing something wasn’t right.

You hurried to his bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. In a rush, you tugged your pants down, and panic set in the moment you looked down. 

There it was, unmistakable - your period had arrived, unexpected and inconvenient.

You sighed, trying to steady your breath. 

The problem was, you hadn’t expected it. 

You hadn’t brought anything with you, and you certainly hadn’t thought you'd need to deal with this at Spencer’s place of all places.

Okay, stay calm, you thought to yourself. It’s just a period. He probably won’t even blink if you tell him.

But the thought of having to tell him made you cringe with embarrassment. 

You weren’t shy around Spencer, but this was new territory for your relationship. The vulnerability of it all made your chest tighten.

You opened the door a crack and called out softly, "Uh, Spencer?"

In seconds, he was at the door, his voice filled with gentle concern. "Everything okay?"

You bit your lip, feeling awkward but knowing you had to ask. "I… I got my period. I wasn’t expecting it. Do you… um, have anything maybe?"

There was a beat of silence, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was freaking out inside. 

"I don’t have anything here, but I can run to the store and get what you need. Just… tell me what to get."

Relief washed over you, but the embarrassment lingered. "It’s fine. I don’t want to bother you."

"You're not a bother," he said quickly. "I promise. You need something, I’ll go get it. Just… tell me what kind of… supplies you’d prefer?"

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his awkward phrasing, which made things feel a little lighter. 

You explained to him what you typically use, and Spencer listened intently, nodding as if he were memorizing every detail. 

His focus was so intense that it actually made you feel better - like this wasn’t weird at all to him, just something practical to solve.

"I’ll be right back," he assured you, and with that, he was gone, off to the store with a determination you couldn’t help but admire.

While he was gone, you cleaned up as best you could and tried to relax. 

You’d always known Spencer was caring and supportive, but this was something else. His reaction had been so… normal. 

He hadn’t hesitated for even a second.

About twenty minutes later, you heard his keys at the door. He walked in with a small bag, a soft smile on his face, holding it up triumphantly. "I think I got everything you need."

He handed it to you, and inside were the essentials along with some chocolate, heating pads, and even herbal tea. You blinked, taken aback.

"You didn’t have to do all of this," you said, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with your current predicament.

"I wanted to," he replied softly, stepping closer. "I just want you to be comfortable."

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. "You’re amazing, you know that?"

He held you gently, resting his chin on top of your head. "I just care about you."

[motherlvr]

just friends?

she fell first, he fell harder

wc: 2.2k

pairing: Earth-42! Miles Morales x f! reader

Summary: In the early years of your adolescence, you made the grave mistake of asking Miles to ‘practice kissing’ for future suitors. That mistake would come back to bite you every following day.

Warnings: cursing, childhood friends to lovers, friends that kiss, jealousy, started off the fic with a bang cuz i dont believe in small talk, possessiveness

A/N: what happened to hello? what happened to how are you?

----------

Your current predicament was straddling Miles' lap as you both kissed like this would be the last time you ever did. His hands grabbed onto your thighs that encased his legs. Pulling away for a second, you watched as a small string of saliva binds both of your lips.

Looking down at him, you asked out of breath, "We're still just friends, right?" The question caught him off guard. But he responds with a teasing smirk, "Yeah, yeah ma. Just friends." You nervously bit your bottom lip, nodding at his response. Wrapping your hands onto his braids, you smashed your lips against his yet again to ignore your conflicted thoughts.

It's times like this when your past mistake comes back to haunt you. And he made sure you never lived it down. The mistake in question was made on the playground with Miles when you were both ten. Being the young and innocent child you were, you proposed to 'practice kissing' for potential lovers in the future. As all kids do. He accepted and it all sprouted from there. You were each other's first kiss.

That first kiss was only one of many to come. You both had urges, after all. Since your younger days, it turned into something a bit more than just practice. But you never gave it a second thought. Until of late. What used to be a silly playground crush on Miles only grew stronger as the years passed by.

In all honesty, you had no clue where you stood with Miles. What were you, friends that kiss periodically? That was how it was, you suppose. But what you did know was that you'd stay by his side no matter the circumstance. Even if it meant that your friendship would never develop into more. Although occasionally you wished you never initiated to 'practice kissing' with him in your naive and prepubescent years. That would solve your problem at its roots and prevent the rapidly growing feelings you had for him. It was no doubt a mistake in your mind.

Separating your lips for a second time, you pulled away again. He stared at you in confusion. You looked frantic, "Shit, what time is it?" Glancing at the time on your phone, you cursed. It was 3:30 pm. "Fuck, I have a date at four o'clock. I gotta go, Miles." You jumped off of Miles' lap on his bed and swiftly started packing up your things.

Miles felt jealousy start to boil within his stomach as his lap felt empty. He was right here, why would you need to go on a date with some other guy? Furrowing his brows, he irritably questioned, "Fuck you mean you gotta date? With who?" He tried to conceal his annoyance but failed miserably.

"Some guy from my physics class asked me out, sorry but I gotta go." Grabbing your bag, you pecked his cheek lightly as a goodbye. Glancing in his mirror one last time, you tamed any stray strands of hair.

Your response only fueled his jealousy, "Do you even know his name?" He started interrogating you.

"Of course I do, it's..." You paused for a second to think, and your conclusion was unclear. Your mind was foggy. "I think it's Javi? Or maybe Jake? Jacob? Shit, I think you kissed the thoughts right out of my brain." You rambled. Your words made him crack a slight smirk, and he said, "Nah, you ain't going on that date ma." pulling you back into his hold by your hips.

"I can't just stand him up, Miles." You told him, starting to regret agreeing on going on the date. "I could take you on a better date than he can, mami." He suggested.

He was full of surprises this afternoon. Usually, he didn't display such possessiveness. You didn't even like the supposed guy you were going on a date with. You just thought he could help you get your mind off of Miles for a few minutes.

Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Is that an offer?" "It's a promise." He responded without an ounce of hesitation. The way he was staring at you almost made you take him up on it. "Tempting, but I'll have to take a rain check. See you tomorrow. Alright, Miles?" You waved goodbye and walked out his door.

"'Ight, ma. See you." He gave up. As he watched you walk out the door of his room, he groaned in frustration.

The unfortunate recipient of his frustrations was a punching bag in his Uncle Aaron's apartment. Striking the bag with all the force he could muster, the punching bag rumbled on the chain it was strung upon. His knuckles were slowly getting bloodier with each hit, but he couldn't feel it. He could only feel you. It was the only thing he wanted to feel, anyway.

His Uncle inevitably noticed his behavior. Cleaning off one last knife, he set it down and walked towards his nephew. He held the punching bag steady and questioned him, "What's up with you, man?"

Continuing to throw punches at the unsuspecting punching bag, he responded sharply. "It's nothin'. Just my girl going on a date with some other guy." His nostrils flared slightly.

With those two sentences, his Uncle understood his sour mood. "That doesn't sound like nothing. And you just let her? I don't think you're my nephew, man." Shrugging, Miles took a quick water break. Taking a long swig of water, he replied, "You know her, she's stubborn." He had introduced you to his Uncle a while back. His whole family knew you, in fact. Every time he went back home, his mother asked about you. How you are, and when he’s going to tell you how he feels. It seemed everyone knew. Except you.

"Hey. If you want this girl, you gotta show her before someone else does." His Uncle wisely told him. Miles stopped hitting the punching bag and started wrapping his bloodied knuckles in bandages.

Those words stuck with Miles for the rest of the night as he made his way back to his dorm.

Laying on the bed of his dorm, Miles stayed up thinking about what his Uncle told him. His dorm felt empty without you there, he realized.

The next afternoon in his dorm again, you laid on your stomach on his bed, kicking your feet in the air. You frequented his dorm so often that you were more of a roommate to him than his actual one. Glancing at Miles, you noticed the bandages on his knuckles. “Ay, Miles. What happened?” You asked him, taking his hand into yours to inspect it. He disregarded it, "Don’t worry 'bout it.” He continued, addressing the elephant in the room. “How was your date with Javi, Jake, or Jacob?"

You casually respond, "Actually, his name was Jason. And it was fine, I suppose. Although I called him by the wrong name a few times until he corrected me." You mumbled the last part, embarrassed. Not to mention, you almost called him by Miles' name. Not just once but multiple times.

"Just fine, huh?" He replied, intrigued. And slightly satisfied that you didn't have too good of a time.

"Yeah. I mean, he tried kissing me by the end. But his breath reeked of garlic, so I looked the other way and pretended I didn't notice." You said with a grimace, pretending to get flashbacks. In reality, Miles ruined kissing for you. You couldn't stop seeing Miles' face as your date was leaning into you. He wasn't him.

Stifling a laugh, he grinned at you. "So, that mean you wanna take me up on my offer?" You whipped your head to him in surprise as you said, "You were serious about that? I mean, I'm down." Friends go on dates, don't they? You thought to yourself.

Nodding his head, he said, "I made a promise, ma." He started to stand up, gently grabbing your hand to pull you up with him. Locking your hand onto his arm, he led you out of campus.

Miles brought you to an endearing cafe only a few blocks away from the campus. A diamond in the rough, you thought. As you both sat down across from each other, you felt your nerves spiking.

Truth be told, he still made you nervous at times. Although you've undoubtedly been friends with him for longer than either of you could remember. The both of you ordered food and you started to speak, "So, you take all your girls here, Miles?" Putting on a calm facade, you teased him. You were glad he couldn't see your leg bouncing with anxiousness underneath the table.

He let out a slight puff at you, "What girls? Solo eres tú, mami. You know that." Your heart fluttered slightly at his words. Widening your eyes, you murmured, "I didn't know that, actually." You cleared your throat and enunciated, "How'd you find out about this place then?" Your voice piqued with interest. You didn't believe he would frequent this cute cafe in his spare time. It wasn't exactly his scene, so to say.

"This is where my dad took my ma on their first date." He said with an unusually soft tone, staring into your eyes for your reaction. You would never guess it, but he saw a future with you. Ever since that day on the playground, he knew it was real. His affection for you never dimmed since then.

As you both locked eyes, you realized then that he took you to a place that was sentimental to him and his family. This cafe was where his parent’s story first started. All of a sudden, this date felt a bit more serious than he had originally let on.

Under his stare, you felt your face go warm, "That's beautiful, Miles." After a few moments, you continued, "I suddenly feel like I'm intruding, though." His response came quick, "Never, mami. What makes you say that?" You confessed the thoughts that swarmed your brain right when you walked into the cafe, "I mean, this place feels a bit intimate for people that are 'just friends'" You said with air quotations.

"I think we're past that stage. Don't you, princesa?" You nodded at him. He was right, you thought. After all, friends don't usually have an oral fixation for their friend's mouth.

Your orders came at the same time. You both comfortably conversed. It was a nice change of pace after your date from yesterday. After you both ate your orders and paid, Miles and you walked down the street with his fingers settling on your waist. You spoke up, "Thanks for bringing me here today, Miles. I had a good time with you." You wanted nothing more than to reach up and kiss him til he couldn't breathe, but resisted.

"Anytime. If it meant you'd stop going on dates with other guys." He said casually, but his grip firmed on your waist. Your head turned to him at his words. After your date with Miles, you were sure he ruined dates for you as well. Just like he ruined your ability to kiss anyone else. "Yeah, I'm not even sure I'll want to go on a date with anyone else after this." You said under your breath. He silently grinned.

As you both made your way back to Miles' dorm, the urge to brush your lips against his only became stronger. You could tell he felt it, too. You noticed how he walked a bit faster to go back to his dorm.

Once the door to his room opened, you gave in to your desires and pulled him in by his hoodie to connect your lips. He backed you against his door as his hands traveled all over your body like it was a new territory he was unfamiliar with. He couldn't get enough of you. Groaning into your mouth, he deepened the kiss impossibly more. You both parted for a moment to get a quick breath of air.

Staring into his eyes, you told him before you lost the courage, "I don't want to be just friends. Friends that kiss sometimes when they feel like it." He looked at you like you just told him he won the lottery. In his eyes, this scenario was better than winning the lottery. He grinned as he kissed you again. Full of heat, his kiss spoke louder than words. "Then why don't we be lovers that kiss?” He pulled away to whisper against your lips. “Yeah, I think I like that idea.” You smiled against his lips.

That kiss from yesterday would be the last kiss you shared. As friends, that is. And this would be your first kiss as lovers. From the very first chapter of your life, he was there. And to the present-day chapter of your life, he's still here with you. In the end, It'll always be him and you.

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

solo eres tú - it’s only you

princesa - princess

[johnbrand]

A Promise

Brady had been unenthusiastic about going to the gym. Actually, “unenthusiastic” may have been a light way to put it. Although he should have had the typical confidence of a college senior, his low self-esteem and horrible body image rendered him unable to socialize with others. Brady had made a promise to himself that visiting the gym would solve his problems. He hoped working out would at least combat his issues with body image, and then eventually friends would begin to magically come to him.

But now, standing in the massive gym, Brady could not help but let his eyes widen as he scanned the room of all the machines. Why were there so many–did humans truly have so many body parts to further develop? It was insane, overwhelming in a way that Brady was beginning to feel suffocated.

“Previewing all the options?” a male voice caught Brady by alarm.

“Uhh…” he swung around to greet the mystery person, immediately having to trace his eyes up along the rippled chest before him. Thanks to his smaller, hairless body, Brady appeared like a boy next to this man. “Yeah,” Brady stupidly replied, holding back a blush. He had not meant to lie, but the handsome jock twice his size caught him completely off guard.

Unfazed, the muscular jock stuck out a hand with a pleasant smile, “Michael.”

“Brady.”

“The gym truly has everything a bro needs. It’s so great that the college focuses on funding areas for the majority of students, unlike other schools,” Michael remarked. Obviously there was a backhanded comment in that remark, but Brady was a little too infatuated to notice.

“It is impressive,” Brady agreed. “There’s just so much to work with, I don’t know where to begin.”

Michael chuckled, jabbing a bit at the shorter male. “What? A guy like you! By the looks of it I’d bet you follow a pretty rigid routine.”

“Huh?” Brady peered down at his baggy sweatshirt and sweats, confused.

“Don’t think your pump cover can fool me,” Michael poked. “A bro like you should only wear tight, revealing stuff anyway.”

Brady suddenly felt extremely self-conscious. There were too many places his extra weight hung off him weirdly. “Uhhh…I…I don’t really-”

“What's the point of working out if you don’t show it off.” 

Brady had an argument, but it suddenly left him, replaced by: “I mean…I don’t want to seem rude.” Subconsciously, he rubbed the back of his head, flexing his huge bicep almost on reflex. Brady did not realize just how much his veins were bulging out, squeezed by the tight black tee. 

Michael laughed. “Bro who cares, you’re an alpha male! Take up some space–it’s your right after all.” 

Brady thought back to how people had treated him all throughout life. People did look up to him, follow him around like helpless puppies. He had received high grades without even putting in the work, gotten one-night stands with pretty boys by a simple wink. Being ripped had its privileges.

“C’mon, stand a little taller bro. Put some hair on that chest.” Michael gave him a rough, playful pat on the back. Brady straightened back out after a moment, standing eye-to-eye with the other attractive jock. “There ya go, men like us are born superior. I bet you could even crush skulls between those thighs.

“I’ve cracked open a few watermelons in my day,” Brady showcased the glorious muscles underneath his short shorts. He could not help but take a moment to admire his legs, carved beautifully all the way down to his great stompers. It made Brady feel really good; he did deserve to enjoy his muscular body and display it for all to see.

“You got a girl yet?” Michael suddenly asked, pulling Brady back in.

“Uhhhh…” a flash of concern paused Brady. 

“You gotta be kidding!” Michael announced with an exaggerated amount of shock. “Who’s gonna keep you in check, bro? You probably work up a sweat beating all those fags back into place, so how else are you gonna relieve that pent-up energy if you aren’t smashing any pussy?”

The statement was a lot. Brady did not have a response immediately, but eventually his face softened, releasing a dumb guffaw. “Yeah bro, you’re probably right. It’s hard being the top dog all the time without getting any thanks.”

Michael smirked, “Course it is! Tell you what, flex those pumps for me and I’ll send them to a few of the chicks I know. I promise you’ll get some action by the end of the day.”

“Really?” Brady could not believe this steal rubbing happily at his beard. “Thanks bro!” Eagerly, he pulled up the lower half of his shirt and pumped his massive arms into the air.

“Oof, I guess you really do work up a sweat. Those pits are ripe, man!” Michael applauded. “Now, let’s get you laid!”

[kissenturine]

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 kazuha x m!reader — 5.1k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: strangers to lovers, mentions and use of alcohol (no drunk sex though), kazuha and reader are roommates, sort of college / modern au, morning sex / sleepy sex, praise, pet names (good boy [?], angel, uh i cant remember sorry), aftercare is not written but it is given, praise teehee, reader rides kazuha, kazuha jerks reader off, lmk if i missed any thanks :3

KAI SAYS: GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!! birthday post im now 20 that sounds so old euugghh

Rent was hell.

Your minimum income, which was mostly spent on necessities and college fees, was barely able to pay last month. And now with inflation, you weren’t sure how you were going to make it through another year.

But, there was always hope. It was only the beginning of June after all.

Last week, your friend introduced you to a website to find roommates. Having a roommate would solve a few of my problems, you thought as you scrolled through the site on your computer. For one, the rent would be split between the two of you, which was much more manageable than right now. And, for two, you would get to actually talk to someone every day.

It would be a win-win situation if the two of you got along.

After a few days of thinking everything through, looking at different people’s profiles, because the site was a “Tinder for roommates,” as your friend had put it, you found a man that matched your preferences.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

From what you could tell by his profile, he looked like a sweet man. His profile picture was set to a white cat, and you can see his hand atop its head, gently petting against the cat’s ears. You hadn’t met him in person yet, but through text, you’d managed to get to know him a bit.

The two of you texted about your hobbies and Kauha told you about his life. He was getting a degree in poetry at a college near your house, which is why he selected the area. He told you earlier today about himself. He liked to eat fish and go drinking out. He liked staying with animals he liked warm weather and sunny days, and he liked to spend time with his loved ones and friends.

To be honest, he seemed a bit too good to be true.

But, you think, I suppose some people are just like that.

With a content sigh, you shut your computer. You’d texted Kazuha and the two of you had planned for him to move in today. It seemed a little quick to you, but Kazuha said he didn’t really have anything big to move over. According to him, he’d only be bringing one suitcase and backpack.

Yesterday, you cleaned out the guest room—well, know his room. It was tedious work, something you hoped you wouldn’t have to do again. Ever. But, you supposed it would be worth it in time.

So now here you were, sanding proudly with your hands on your hips smiling at your spotless house. Kazuha better like it here… You think. Your hand goes to run through your hair gently, combing it back. You’re about to flop down onto the couch and maybe take a nap—only for the familiar tune of the doorbell to ring through the house, echoing and bouncing off the walls.

Your head snaps backwards, a nervous smile making its way onto your lips.

You rush to the door, ignoring the slight shake in your step. Your heartbeat quickens and you don’t know why. Kazuha’s a nice man. You remind yourself, though you don’t think that’s why you're nervous.

Slowly, you unlock your door and turn the doorknob with your other hand. And there, standing to greet you is your new roommate. Kaedehara Kazuha.

You greet him with a polite smile, cracking open the door just enough to let him inside. The roll of his suitcase from the sidewalk outside up onto the flooring of your house sends a loud ‘Clunk! Clunk!’ sound and you wince a little.

You shut the door behind you, schooling your expression as you turn back to Kazuha. He trunks to you quickly and smiles gently. “Ah,” he says and his voice is so soft when he speaks, “I’m Kazuha, but I suppose you already know that.”

You introduce yourself, finishing off the same as him with a short, “but I suppose you already knew that too.”

He nods politely a small laugh flitting out of his lips. You lead him to his new bedroom, helping him carry his backpack as he lifts his suitcase, not wanting the wheels to dirty the floor. Kazuha takes a look around, his smile being ever present as you drop his backpack by the door.

“It’s nice here.” He comments, turning his gaze from you to his bedroom.

A bashful grin makes its way to your lips. “Thanks.” You murmur. “Cleaned just for you.”

With that, he’s looking back at you. “Just for me?” He responds, and there’s an edge of playfulness that lies beneath the overlaying gratefulness in his tone. “Thank you.”

You just nod, not fully trusting your voice.

After a moment, Kazuha sits down at the edge of his bed, tracing his hands over the expanse of the duvet. “We should go out sometime.” He says and you blink. You’re face feels warm and you hope Kazuha doesn’t see.

“Like…” Your voice trails off, leaving your sentence unfinished. Like a date? You wanted to say, but your lips don’t seem to work.

Kazuha seems to take note of this, chuckling softly. “Just to get to know each other better. Doesn’t have to be anything fancy.” He gives you a comforting smile and your nervousness seems to dissipate when you look at him.

“Ok.” You agree. “We can plan something for after you’ve gotten more… settled in.”

Kazuha’s smile widens and he gives you a nod. “Thanks.”

You take a deep breath, before speaking up again. “I’ll leave you to it then.” You turn on your heel before walking out of Kazuha’s new bedroom. You shut the door gently before speed-walking to your room and collapsing onto your bed.

Your breathing comes out in soft puffs as you bury your face into a pillow, curling yourself on your bed. What the fuck was that? You cry mentally. You grip onto the bedsheets tightly. Your heart is beating fast and you think it’d beat tight through your ribs if you don’t calm down soon. You bring your hands to your face, dragging them across your eyes. “I’m fucked.” You curse quietly. Kazuha’s so nice! You know you probably won’t even last a month without developing some sort of feelings for him and that scares you. 

You… don’t want to ruin what little the two of you had managed to build up in the past week. As little as it was, you like what you have with Kazuha. In the back of your mind, though, there’s the nagging feeling for more. You want to get closer to Kazuha, you want to spend time with him.

Maybe that date of his wouldn’t be too bad.

With a heavy sigh, you twist your body to lay like a starfish, sprawled across your bed. You turn your gaze to your window, squinting as the sunlight fans through the glass and into your eyes. If you just ignored any feelings that developed, they would just go away, right?

The first six days with Kazuha were… different from your usual routine, to put it simply.

On Monday (because everyone knows the week starts with Monday and not Sunday!) you awoke to the smell of food wafting through the house. You were instantly up and out of bed, barely managing to throw on a shirt—backwards—before you stumbled into the kitchen.

You were taken aback by the sight that greeted you.

Kazuha, in his pyjamas and an apron, was humming a soft tune as he cooked something on the stove. He turns once he notices you, standing in shock by the doorway. “Ah,” he said, “I see you’re finally awake.” He humed, using the spatula to plate a scrambled egg. He handed you the plate and Archons it smelled good. “I made breakfast. Used some of your food, if you don’t mind.”

You absentmindedly nodded, entranced by the way he moved around the kitchen, putting things in the dishwasher, plating his food, and turning off the stove. All of those were such ordinary things, but, for some reason, it just made you more drawn to him.

You brought your plate to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down, still watching Kazuha. “Thanks for breakfast.” You murmured after a few bites. “It’s really good.”

“Well, it’s only natural I repay you somehow.” Kazuha said before sitting down beside you. “You basically lent me your house to live in.” He joked.

“Our house now.” You responded. “Since you’ll be payin’ half the rent.”

Kazuha nods, taking a bite out of his own breakfast. “I plan on spending the week organizing my stuff. Nothing big, just getting everything tidy.” The two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of the summer weather.

Besides that, Monday wasn’t anything eventful.

Tuesday was spent helping Kazuha. Cooped up in his room, the two of you went through his clothes and belongings, organizing them into his closet and drawers. Kazuha had a decent amount of clothes, which were the bulk of what he brought.

You talked and talked and talked with Kazuha. He was so sweet. You swore you’d told yourself that a million times by now, but it was always true. Kazuha’s laugh was soft and kind, he laughed at all your stupid, cheesy jokes, no matter how unfunny they were. He’d help you cook meals—much better than you ever could.

Tuesday was when you had come to realize that maybe you were enjoying his company a little too much. But, you thought, he’s just… fun to be around.

You used that excuse for the rest of the week.

Kazuha was just… nice. Everyone would enjoy his company like this. You were no different!

It was a pathetic excuse, but it was pathetic enough for you to cling onto.

Wednesday you and Kazuha went out and you showed him the neighbourhood as the two of you walked to the store for some groceries. Kazuha took an oddly long time looking through the fruits and vegetables section, eyeing each piece we selected carefully before placing it into the plastic bag we used to carry everything.

It was endearing.

After a good forty-five minutes of walking around the store, the two of you finally decided to head to the cashier for check out. Kazuha was polite as he made idle chatter with them, but you couldn’t help the frown that pulled at your face.

You were right there. If he wanted to talk to someone, why couldn’t it be you? You were sure you were more entertaining than that cashier worker.

But you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. You pulled out your credit card, expecting to pay, only for Kazuha to gently pull your hand back. “Let me.” He says gently. Your eyes dart to him and your face flushes when you feel his hand graze gently over yours as he pulls it back.

He wanted to pay for you.

Ah, if you hadn’t fallen for him yet, you sure as hell had now.

He taps his card quickly and you barely manage to make it out of the store while avoiding Kazuha’s gaze.

Things only started to set in on Thursday.

You’d woken up with a heavy migraine and a grumpy mood, so it didn’t come as a surprise that you didn’t want to talk to anyone. Unfortunately, that also included Kazuha. And yet, Kazuha didn’t push you when you refused to talk to him while the two of you ate breakfast.

“Good morning,” He had said in greeting. “How’re you?”

You don’t respond, only taking the plate of food he’d set aside for you. You’re swift to finish your food; shovelling it into your mouth and not even bothering to wait for Kazuha.

He, on the other hand, still had that oh-so-sweet smile of his plastered across his pretty lips. “I’ll take it you’re not feeling great, then.” He murmurs. Kazuha gets up from his seat beside you before handing you a glass of water. “You should drink up. Water’s very good for you, so I’m sure it’ll help you a bit.”

You do as he said, chugging the glass of water in one go. “Thanks.” You whisper. Those were the first words you said to him that day, and you could already feel your migraine easing up. Kazuha is like magic, you think, he fixes everything without even trying.

You gave Kazuha a half-hearted smile before placing your plate and utensils in the dishwasher and heading to your room to take a nap. Naps always seemed to ease your headaches.

As you collapsed on your bed, snuggling up under your heavy duvet, your thoughts drifted back to Kazuha. He was sweet, but you’d also come to the realization that he was handsome. His hair was always up into a ponytail, with that little section of red swooping on top of his ear. His eyes are quite pretty, too. You thought. A shimmering red that often matched the clothes he wore, sparkling as he laughed. And his hands, they looked so gentle as he carried things around. His fingers worked effortlessly as he wrote his poetry in that small notebook of his.

“This man,” you whispered to yourself, “is too good to be true.”

On Friday, Kazuha let you have the honour of brushing and tying up his hair.

He’d caught you staring at him as he sat on his bed, his fingers wove through his white locks. With a raised eyebrow, he beckons you over, handing you a red hair tie. “Mind helping me?” He asked softly.

You complied eagerly, scooting behind him. You ran your hand through his hair, gently scooping it behind his shoulders. Kazuha let out a soft hum, as he nodded in content. Carefully, you pull his hair into a ponytail, twisting the thin band to wrap carefully around it a few more times.

“There.” You said. “It’s done.”

Kazuha turned to face you, his knees pressed much too close to yours. “Thank you.” He grinned, grabbing your hand to rest in between his cool ones. “I really appreciate this.”

Your face flushed, an embarrassing warmth coating your cheeks. You brought your free hand to scratch awkwardly at the back of your neck before mumbling out a response. “No problem, Kazuha.”

Saturday was spent planning the two of your guys’ “date” that would be happening on Sunday.

Kazuha suggested a picnic, and you couldn’t help but agree. Maybe it was the thought of spending a day with him, or maybe it was how he wanted to spend a day with you, but you knew you would’ve agreed to anything he said.

The picnic would be on Sunday, in a park the two of you found online.

After a very successful planning session, the two of you spent the rest of the day preparing and packaging food for the picnic.

It was somewhat chaotic—but it was also fun.

Kazuha taught you how to make his favourite sandwich, how to toast the bread perfectly, and how to cut each one into little heart shapes. All with a soft smile dancing on his pretty lips as he guided your hands gently, easing the knife into the bread.

Archons, you were fucked. How’re you supposed to live with him, like this, every day?

And now, it’s Sunday; the day of the picnic.

Your foot taps nervously against the floor of your bedroom. What am I supposed to wear? Yes, you do know you’re probably overthinking this, but you can’t help it! Not when it’s because of Kazuha! You have to make sure you’re always looking your best!

Your cheeks puff out as a heavy sigh leaves your lips, eventually settling on your outfit of the day.

Finally ready, you nervously open the door, heading out to meet Kazuha in the kitchen.

He greets you with a smile and a call of your name. His arms find their way around your waist in a tight hug and you blink. Oh, oh, oh, oh—what do I do!? When did he get so… touchy?! Not that I’m complaining but—You stand frozen, yet Kazuha doesn’t seem to mind. He pulls back with his signature smile. “You’re ready to go?” He questions, taking a step towards the front door.

“Y-Yeah.” You manage to stutter out. “I’m ready.”

“Great!” He grabs your hand, leading you out of your shared home. He doesn’t let go as the two of you walk to the park. With the picnic basket in his free hand, Kazuha still grips yours gently as he leads you. His thumb runs over the skin of your hand absentmindedly. You think it’s supposed to be a calming gesture, but, it only makes your heart beat faster and your face go warm.

You eventually find yourself in a large field, small flowers adorning the grass. Kazuha tugs a blanket out of his bag, laying it over the grass. He plops down on it, patting the space beside him as he does. “Sit with me.” He says.

You comply quickly, placing your own basket down and taking a spot beside him. “...Thanks for doing this with me.” You murmur, giving Kazuha a shy glance.

He only grins in response, digging through his bag and handing you one of the sandwiches you prepared yesterday. “It’s nothing, really.” He smiles, and you feel a tingle go through your hand where his finger brushes over yours. “I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you too.” You match his expression, your lips pulling into a smile. It hasn’t even been a week, and yet it feels like you’ve known Kazuha for years.

Kazuha grins, reaching into his bag. “Good.” is all he responds before pulling something out. Is that a wine bottle? “Now, would you like a drink?”

You… never took Kazuha as a drinker.

And yet, here he is, drunk out of his mind as slurs slip from his lips. Kazuha calls out your name, his head slipping onto your shoulder as his hands grip the blanket the two of you are sitting on. “Do you…” He trails off. “Do youuu… wanna watch th-the sunset w’me?” He slurs his eyes fixing on yours from his position on your shoulder.

You cough awkwardly. “Kazuha.” You say softly, easing his head off your shoulder. “It’s four-thirty in the afternoon. The sunsets not coming out anytime soon…”

“B-But—” He whines. “It woulda been soooo romantic.” Kazuha grins, his eyes lolling shut as he slumps against your chest this time. “Jus’ you, me, an’ the flowers.”

“Oh, Kazuha.” You sigh. “I’d love to watch the sunset with you, but we have to get you home before dark. It’d be dangerous walking out drunk at night.”

“No!” He cries. “I could… could protect you… from th’danger.”

“Nope.” You say, trying not to let his words affect you. “We’re going home now, okay?”

“Okayyyy.” He whines, dragging out the word as he says it. “But only—only cause you said so.”

“Good.” You wrap an arm around Kazuha, right under his shoulder as you help him stand. You leave him for a bit, turning around to pick up the blanket and his bag. “Kazuha!” You call, and he’s instantly behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, pushing his face into your neck.

“Hm?” He coos. “D’ya need something?”

The warmth of Kazuha’s breath fans over the skin of your neck, goosebumps rising lowly. “N-Need you to carry your stuff.” You mumble. Your hands remove Kazuha’s from your waist, shifting to grab his wrist as you gently drag him off you. “Let’s go home now.”

Carefully, you take Kazuha home, not really minding his drunk ramblings. He goes on and on about the sunset, about how he’d stare into your eyes and giggle while he holds your hand and the sun sets.

It is endearing seeing him drunk out of his mind and yet still so lovey-dovey.

It only takes the two of you a fifteen-minute walk to reach your home and you’re quick to open the door and let Kazuha in, the two of you dropping your stuff as you help him up the stairs, your arm wrapped snugly around his waist. He slurs your name again, his pretty red eyes meeting yours. “C-Can we cuddle…?” He whines and you instantly turn your head, wanting to hide the warmth on your cheeks.

“I…” You whisper. “You’re drunk. Let’s just get you in bed first.”

“Noo!” Kazuha cries, planting his feet on the ground, stopping you. “Y’always make me wait! Made me wait for our date, now you're still makin’ me wait when I jus’ want cuddles!”

“Kazuha, really, maybe we should—” You try to protest, only to be interrupted.

“Please,” Kazuha whines pitifully, “Jus’ for a bit.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a deep exhale. “You’re still drunk,” you start, “but fine. I guess some cuddles won’t hurt.”

Kazuha grins happily, snaking his arms around you, just under your arms as he lifts you into the air. “You’re th’best!” He slurs. “Come, cuddles time.” With that, he’s lifting you up and carrying you over into his bedroom.

He tosses you gently onto the bed and you land with a quiet: “Oof!” Before you feel the bed dip as Kazuha joins you. His arms find their familiar place around you and his nore presses into the back of your head as he twists your body into a spooning position with his. One of Kazuha’s legs is haphazardly thrown over yours, and you feel completely engulfed in, well, Kazuha.

“You’re so handsome.” Kazuha whispers into your hair. “My handsome boy.” He presses a kiss to the back of your head, and you have to remind yourself that Kazuha is drunk. He won’t remember any of this, nor will he ever act like this again.

Still, you end up leaning into the touch, falling asleep slowly, basking in Kazuha’s comforting warmth and love.

When you wake up, Kazuha’s body is tangled with yours. His head is on your chest and his arms are wound tightly around your waist. One of his legs is positioned between yours, his knee pressing against you.

You tug him closer, enjoying the warmth of his body against yours. Kazuha’s head dips between your shoulder and your neck, nuzzling into the spot. You can feel the small puffs of air his lips let out against your skin as he breathes, matching the pattern of your heartbeat as he does.

You grin, pulling yourself to sit up—only to be yanked completely down by Kazuha. “Don’ move, please.” He whispers. “Need t’feel ya.”

“Kazuha.” You complain. “You’re not even drunk anymore—”

“No.” Kazuha murmurs. “Need to feel you.” As the words leave his lips, he shifts his body, pressing his hips flush against your ass. 

Something firm pokes into you from behind and—

Oh.

That’s what he meant by feel you.

Kazuha’s hips start a steady grind against you, pushing his erection into your ass as he murmurs breathless nothings into your ear. A desperate whine slips from his lips as he slowly moves his hands from around you to on you, roaming your chest and up your neck.

“Need you.” Kauzha murmurs slowly. “Need you so bad.”

“I know.” You say, turning onto your side to face Kazuha.

He smiles at you, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. “Please let me have you.” He whines.

You smile, leaning into his touch and pressing a soft kiss to his nose. “Of course, you can have me. I’ve been all yours from the start.”

Kazuha’s lips press against yours as he gently pushes you to lie on your back against the bed. His hands trace your sides, going from your neck to your hips as he pulls your pants down. He releases you from his kiss, the both of you gasping for air as he yanks down your boxers with impressive speed.

A soft whine slips from your throat, needily grinding your hips into the air. “Kazuha…” You moan, needing his touch desperatley. “C-Can you just—”

“I know.” He coos, trailing his hand to your hard cock. “I know, pretty boy, but I jus’ wanna take my time with you, ‘kay?”

You hesitantly nod, bringing your hand to thread through Kazuha’s hair as he peppers an assortment of kisses all over your cheeks. His hand starts a slow rhythm, gliding up and down the shaft of your cock slowly.

His grip is teasing, the way he squeezes up as he reaches your tip, dragging the pad of his thumb down your dick as he does. Kazuha’s fist moves quicker, watching as your eyes scrunch up in pure ecstasy from his ministrations. “That’s it.” He murmurs encouragingly. “C’mon, I know you’re close…”

A gasp leaves your lips as Kazuha drags his thumb over your slit, rolling it and smearing your precum everywhere, watching with nothing but a pleased smile as your hips frantically twitch in his hold. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck—right bellow your ear before giving the spot a teasing lick.

Kazuha’s hands work at your dick again and again, sliding with a steady rhythm up and down until your brain feels muddled and hazy. You grip at his wrist, not knowing if you want him to stop or keep going.

“K-Kazuha,” you whine, “please.”

A soft laugh leaves his lips and he once again kisses your neck. “Shh.” He murmurs. “Be patient, my dear.” With that, he’s pressing a harsh bite into your supple skin, letting his teeth graze over before digging them into you. A loud moan slips from your lips, your dick twitching over and over until your eyes are squeezing shut and thick ropes of milky white shoot from your tip all over your tummy and Kazuha’s hand.

“O-Oh.” You manage to squeak out. “You’re good at this.”

Kazuha smiles, helping the both of you sit up—with you in between his knees with his erection still pressed into the curve of your ass. He rolls you over, bringing your hips ontop of his as he pulls his leaking cock out of his pants, watching intently as you practically drool at the sight.

“Ride me, please.” Kazuha whispers, his desperation clear in his tone. You wrap a hand around his dick, rolling the pad of your thumb against his tip before lifting your hips. You line him up quickly, feeling the head of his cock push against your hole. Your mouth drops open, a low whine leaving your lips.

Slowly, slowly, very slowly, you sink down on his cock, taking him all the way in. You’re about halfway in—from what little you can tell—when Kazuha grabs your hips. His eyes are teary, staring into yours as he grabs the fat of your ass, and pulls you down.

A loud moan slips freely from your lips and you collapse onto Kazuha, the both of you panting heavily.

“A-Archons.” He whispers, his fingers rubbing smooth circles over your hips. “You’re so tight, angel.”

Angel.

He called you angel.

You bury your face into Kazuha’s neck, taking in his scent as you breathe. “Kazu…” You whine. “Need you so bad.”

“I know, pretty.” He whispers. His grip on your hips tightens as you lift your head off him and look into his eyes. His deep, red eyes. “C’mon. I’ll help you, ‘kay?” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before leading you to sit up above him. His finger taps against your waist before he starts. “Lift your hips f’me.” Kazuha instructs and you comply quickly, lifting your hips before dropping back down.

As soon as you drop down, Kazuha’s tip knocks against your prostate harshly and you cry out, your hands barely managing to find purchase against his shoulders. “Good boy.” Kazuha whispers sweetly, running his hands over your chest. “Jus’ like that…” He murmurs. “Think you can keep going?” You nod eagerly, lifting your hips again only to drop down.

Your thighs shake but you don’t care! Not when it feels so good to be bouncing on Kazuha’s dick like this. Not when he hits all those good spots that make you see stars as your eyes roll back.

“Kazuha.” You moan out, rocking your hips tirelessly up and down his dig. You can feel the drag against every vein against your walls, the way he nudges just right against your prostate. Your eyes roll back as your dick twitches against your tummy, drooling pre uselessly as you ride Kazuha up and down, over and over again.

“T-That’s it, pretty.” He whispers. Kazuha’s hands come to grip your ass again, picking up the pace for you as he starts to buck his hips up and into your awaiting hole. “I—holy shit—I’m close.” He whimpers, and you swear there’ll be bruises from how tight he grips your waist. “Need to cum—” He whines, his eyes squeezing shut.

You nod your head eagerly your ass squeezing so tightly around him as he picks up the pace, fucking into you harder. You need to feel him, feel him shoot his load into you. You need it, need Kazuha, need every part of him.

Every time he thrusts, you feel yourself get closer and closer to that sweet release the both of you seek. “Kazu…” You moan out. “Close, close—need you t’k-keep goin’”

“I know.” He whimpers. “I know, ‘m not stopping.” Your eyes rolled back, the familiar warmth building in the pit of your tummy. The way Kazuha’s hands trailed over your thighs—everything he did was begging your body to surrender to the familiar pleasure.

“A-At the same time.” You plead, gripping onto Kazuha’s arm. He only nod, his eyes squeezing shut.

You clench around him and Kazuha throws his head back against the pillows as he buries his dick into you, his hips meeting yours in one final, harsh thrust. He pulls your body close, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he whispers sweet nothings into you.

You feel him cum, a thick load going right into you. You whine, tightening so sweetly around him as your own orgasm hit. “H-Holy…” You whimper, not hvaing the energy to finish your sentence. Your dick twitches between the two of you and you cum. Hard.

Kazuha’s grip around you tightens as he doesn’t even bother to pull out. He grabs the blanket, bringing it over the two of you as he nuzzles your face into his neck, your body still twitching.

Archons. You think, watching Kazuha’s eyes close gently. The sunlight falls onto his face, like a golden halo around his perfect features. How long has it been with him? A week?

Only a week, and you’d managed to fall in love.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @helloanime @kiekole (send ask without anon to be added)

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[royalarchivist]

Cellbit: Are you enjoying it? Are you liking it?

Etoiles: It looks like you– Like um– The enigma you did like, in all your Minecraft stuff? It's kinda the same, but it seems like you a bit sick in the head, because–

Cellbit: [Cracks up]

Etoiles: [Laughs] There's– bro, the first enigma– the first enigma is bullsht!

Cellbit: Oh! You mean the menu? The menu puzzle.

Etoiles: Yeah, the menu. Bro, I was so tilted on the first one! [Laughs] I was so tilted! I was like "OK?! Four years of development to put- to put the blood on it?!" 🙄

[...]

Cellbit: Oh! You know, it is- it is kinda hard, but not that hard. You're a smart guy, you get it.

Etoiles: Ehh, we will see. 😑

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

—

Cellbit: Hi!

Etoiles: [He jumps] WHOA!

Cellbit: I think you're muted.

Etoiles: O-oh! You scared- you scared me! [Laughs with Cellbit]

Cellbit: I'm sorry! Do you need help?

Etoiles: Bro, there's a problem, like– Excuse me, but– I'm playing a game, I don't know if you know, it's like, "Enigma of Fear."

Cellbit: Ok, ok, yeah, I heard it came out.

Etoiles: Ok, yeah, and I'm opening something, and when I'm opening the thing, it's not working! Look, look, look, if–

Cellbit: Oh yeah! It's like a crumpled paper, right?

Etoiles: IT'S WORKING NOW! [Laughs] Ok, ok– I just need to reset-

Cellbit: Yes. Yeah, I fixed it live.

Etoiles: Ok, you fixed it? Ok ok ok, thank you, man.

Cellbit: [Laughs]

Etoiles: Thank you, thank you, I just need to... to go out, and to go in. Ok, um– It's beautiful, for now. It's a pretty cool experience!

Cellbit: Are you enjoying it? Are you liking it?

Etoiles: It looks like you– Like um–

Cellbit: Aww...

Etoiles: The enigma you did like, in all your Minecraft stuff? We look like–

Cellbit: Yeah.

Etoiles: It's kinda the same, but it seems like you a bit sick in the head, because–

Cellbit: [Cracks up]

Etoiles: [Laughs] There's– bro, the first enigma– the first enigma is bullsht!

Cellbit: Did you– yeah, I see you haven't solved the whole thing yet, right?

Etoiles: No no no, I- I- I'm in front of the 4a, thing.

Cellbit: Oh! You mean the menu? The menu puzzle.

Etoiles: Yeah, the menu.

Cellbit: Oh, alright, yeah. I just got to your stream, I'm watching with subtitles on.

Etoiles: Bro, I was so tilted on the first one! [Laughs]

Cellbit: [Laughs]

Etoiles: I was so tilted! I was like "OK?! Four years of development to put- to put the blood on it?!" No... It seems– the enigma with the 4pm thing on the alarm seems to be problematic.

Cellbit: Oh wha- why problematic?

Etoiles: Yea- no– It seems to be hard.

Cellbit: Oh! You know, it is- it is kinda hard, but not that hard. You're a smart guy, you get it.

Etoiles: Ehh, we will see. Thank you so much for the insights, I will–

Cellbit: Yeah, if you need any hints, just call me again.

Etoiles: I will call you bro, you're amazing. See you.

Cellbit: Bye bro!

After this, Etoiles says something along the lines of "This is a bit of a flex when you feel like asking a question about a game you can call the dev." Please let me know if there's a better way to translate this; I don't speak French so I'm solely relying on subtitles here.

[cameronspecial]

Let Me Fix Your Problems, Angel

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Y/N needs to vent, but Rafe needs to solve her issues.

Masterlist

Girls know that when another girl comes to them with a problem, it is just to vent about the issue that they have. Boys. Well, boys like to go to each other for solutions and Rafe isn’t innocent of that mentality. Before Y/N, Rafe hadn’t been in a relationship, so he didn’t have a chance to learn that women just need an outlet to voice their frustration. And he is about to be taught that lesson. He waits for her at the coffee shop with a mug of coffee in his hand and a hot chocolate across from him for her. His fingers tap along the ceramic mug. He looks out the window to see if he can spot her arrival. This is the first time that they are going to be seeing each other in person after returning to campus from the holiday break and he anticipates seeing her again. He wants to see all the gifts she got this Christmas and she is excited to show him. He spots the pompom of her pastel green hat that he sent over to her for Christmas. A massive grin grows on his face and he knows the bell sounding announces her entrance. As she slides into the booth across from him, she leans over the table to kiss him on the lips. “Hey, Rafe. How are you?” she greets. 

He can see something is wrong. There is a slight furrow of her brow and a slight dip of her lip that she is trying to hide. He plays along with her pleasantries for now, “I’m good now that I get to see you, Angel. How was your Christmas?” “It was good. I got to spend time with my family. I was also pleasantly surprised with how many gifts I woke up to on Christmas morning. Some handsome fella even gave me this pretty bracelet with his initials on it. I think I might keep it and him around,” she recounts, holding out her wrist for him to see. He takes her arm into his hand, “Wow. That handsome fella must really be special if you are wearing this even though you have only been dating him for around four months.” “Yeah, I guess you can say that I love him,” she teases and kisses him. “Thank you for the gifts, Rafe. I just wish you told me we were also sending each other stuff because I hate the thought of you not getting anything from me on Christmas.”

His warm hand cups her cheek and his thumb brushes reassuringly against her skin. “Don’t worry about it, Angel. You gave me my gift before we left for break. Plus, getting that FaceTime call from you on Christmas day was my gift,” he promises. She kisses his wrist and this thumb goes to trace the slope of her lips. He can’t be in the dark about her sadness anymore. “What’s wrong, my angel? Why do you seem so sad?” he questions. She shrugs, “Nothing, I’m fine.” “Please, don’t lie to me. I can see something is wrong,” he pleads to her. She sighs, “It’s stupid, but Stacey is having a back-to-school get-together this weekend and she didn’t invite me. I guess I feel a little left out.” “That’s not very nice of her. Have you tried telling her how you feel?” he suggests. She shakes her head, “No. Do you know how embarrassing it would be to run to her like a little schoolgirl and tell her she hurt my feelings?” Rafe understands what she is saying and slides in on her side of the booth. He rests her head on his chest, vowing to help her with her problem. 

———

Rafe knocks on Stacey’s door and puts his hands behind his back. She opens the door with a slight frown at who is waiting for her. “Uh, Rafe. What are you doing here? Is everything okay with Y/N?” she worries, knowing that Rafe only cares about one person. Rafe’s head moves from side to side, “Actually, she isn’t okay. You didn’t invite her to your get-together this weekend.” Stacey nods and cracks her knuckles nervously. “I did not. Because, you see, Y/N and I aren’t really that close of friends and this party is for girls that I am really close to,” Stacey tries to explain. Her mouth shuts when she sees that is not the answer Rafe is looking for. He chuckles, “Obviously, she feels close enough to you that she feels left out by what you did.” He pauses to see if Stacey has anything to add to her defence. She doesn’t. “You know what I want you to do, correct?” Her head hinges up and down, “Yes, I understand. I’m sorry that I hurt Y/N’s feelings.” “Good, I’m glad we can come to a conclusion. I’ll see you later,” he grins and heads back home. 

———

Y/N doesn’t bother to knock. She uses his passcode to storm into his room and finds him on his bed. He sits up right at the sight of her. “Is everything okay, Angel? You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” he frets, rushing to her side. Her arms cross over each other, “You forced Stacey to invite me to her party.” “I did. You said you felt left out that you weren’t invited,” he states. He places his hands above her elbows. She lets out a low laugh, “Why would you do that?” 

“Because you had a problem and you needed help fixing it.”

“Rafe, most of the time, when I come to you with my problems, I don’t want you to fix them. I just want you to listen and agree that I am in the right.”

“Why can’t I fix your problems if I have the solution? Come on, let me fix your problems, Angel.” 

“Sometimes girls just want someone to vent to. Plus, I don’t even like Stacey so the last thing I want to do is go to her party, but now, I have to go because you made a point of getting her to invite me,” she complains. He chuckles and pulls her into a hug, “Okay, I’ll take that venting thing into account for next time. Angel, if you didn’t want to go to the party, then why did it bother you so much?” “Because I wanted to be able to turn her down,” she mumbles, burying her face into his neck. He lets out an amused breath, “I see. Well, I’m sorry that I ruined your ability to reject her. If you want, I can call you with an emergency half an hour into the party so you can leave early.” Y/N pulls back to look him in the eyes. “That is the least you can do. You are getting me sushi too,” she orders. “Sounds fair. I’ll do whatever you want, Angel.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @queen-shadow22 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part 4)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: edited by the ever so lovely karmiccc on ao3! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28 @sadslasher13 @night-spectrum @eveieforeve02

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

On Your Left Babygirl

Wade watches from the corner of his eye as your feet drag behind you, the now limp Wolverine was pressing his full mass into the two of you, and you were clearly struggling with the newly added weight.

“One Anchor Being coming right up, on your left, baby girl!”

“This Logan has everything! He can do pretty much anything the old model could plus he even sings musicals! And he’s actually wearing a costume like he’s not embarrassed to be in a superhero movie for once!”

“I don’t understand.”

“You said my universe is dying, because this sad sack of nuts got himself killed. Well, problem solved!”

“Y-you actually think you can replace an Anchor Being with this?” Paradox says between laughs pointing at Wolverine still on the floor. “I wouldn’t have accepted any other Wolverine bee tee dubs, but you’ve brought me the absolute worst Wolverine there is!

“What do you mean the worst one?” Wade asked, walking closer to Paradox.

Just as Wade was less than an arm’s length away from Paradox, you saw the off brand Mr. Darcy reachout and grab something behind his back. You jump forward placing yourself in between the two men just as Paradox drew his weapon.

“Wade watch-!” You don’t get to finish your sentence as Wade watches in absolute horror as you disintegrate into nothing in front of him.

Wade falls to his knees as if trying to catch your particles that were still floating about in the air before disappearing entirely.

The distinct snikt of Wolverine unleashing his claws breaks Wade out of his trance as he watches the Wolverine, now back on his feet, lunge for Paradox with his claws in pure rage before disappearing too.

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

Logan groans as he sits up, cracking his neck back into place. He raises a hand to shield his face from the harsh rays of the sun above him as he lets out a sharp hiss from the incoming headache he was starting to get from the combination of the fall and all the alcohol he drank earlier.

Barely starting to sober up, he looks around himself with a grunt as he stands, taking in the environment around himself.

If he had to guess he’d had no idea where the fuck he was. The scene around him was dry and arid like a desert, only this one didn’t seem familiar to him at all. There was all kinds of trash and debris around him like it had been dumped here and forgotten. Taking in a few greedy inhales, Logan scented the air, coming back with only faint traces of smoke, dirt and something else, something sweet and fresh and familiar but still different at the same time.

Turning his head to follow the source of the smell Logan spots you, laid out face first on the ground. He walks up to you apprehensively, not knowing if he could trust you or not but as he approaches he realizes you’re out cold.

Getting a closer look at you now he’s able to take in your features up close. If you were a shapeshifter of some kind like he previously thought, you were a hell of a good one. At first glance you looked just like her, the same hair and big doe eyes that used to look up at him. You were even dressed the same way.

Squatting down to your level Logan’s able to get a much better whiff of you from here. There’s no mistaking a scent, even when Morph and Mystique used to try and trick him back in the day but it never worked because they could never change their smell.

There was no doubt about it, the smell was definitely yours. Shamefully Logan found his eyes wandering down your frame slowly as he drank you in, eyes lingering on your ass for a few seconds before turning you over onto your back, and God, even your face was the same. The longer he looked at you the more he realized you really were her. Only, you had less pronounced smile lines, and were less muscular, having probably only known peace in your life, you had appeared more softer than she had been. Just as his gloved hand was a breath away from caressing your cheek, he’s ripped from his inspection by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground behind him.

Standing to his feet, he looks back at you one last time before looking at the disfigured body of the guy in red from before as his bones snap back into place. He sniffs the air again, realizing the man that had just fallen from the sky. He smelled absolutely rancid to him, stinking of blood, gunpowder and a distinct sickly cancerous smell.

Definitely a threat. Logan concludes as he starts to walk up to him.

Wade coughs as he rolls over onto his back, looking down between his legs as Wolverine walked up to him, stopping right as his feet, “Don’t just stand there, you big ape. Give me a hand!”

Wolverine stared down at him, his hazel eyes swirling with contempt and silent fury as he unsheathed his claws.

“No, I’m actually okay, thank you,” Wade barely finishes his sentence before he’s being stabbed through both his sides, letting out a sharp curse as Logan hoists him in the air like a kebab.

“Where the hell are we?!” He demands.

“I don’t know! It all looks kinda Mad Maxy but that would be copyright infringement, wouldn’t it?!” Wade cries out as Wolverine harshly drops him to the ground.

“Fucking jokes,” Logan scoffs before turning his back to him, walking towards your still unconscious form.

“Hey hey! You stay away from my pookie bear, you hear me?” Wade warns as he cocks his gun pointing it at the back of Wolverine’s head.

“Or what?” He dared the man to continue.

Wade lowers his gun as he realizes how fast the situation was starting to escalate, his eyes dart back and forth between you and the very ready to rip his guts out Wolverine before he curses to himself. After putting his gun away, Wade raises his hands up in the air as a way to appease Logan as he began to warily approach him.

“Look, we don't have time for this alright? If we don’t make it back to that Paradox asshole. Everyone I know is going to die,” Wade starts to explain the situation to him but Logan rolls his eyes as he turns back around, continuing to walk towards you.

“No, my fucking problem,” Logan replies coldly as he waves him off.

Wade felt his blood boil. He was never a patient man, nor a very nice one, but compared to this guy? He was a fucking saint. It was an insult to everyone that his Anchor being replacement had to be such a dick.

“Is that what you said when your world went to shit?” Wade shoots back to Wolverine, stopping him in his tracks again.

“Come again?” Logan growls, turning back to face him.

“Yeah, I heard all about you.” Wade began as he turned around, becoming increasingly exasperated by the situation at hand, ”You screwed up everything, but you really should be thanking me for pulling you out of that bed you shit-“

Wade let out a scream as searing pain shot through his body. Looking down he sees the infamous adamantium claws of Wolverine protruding through his chest.

“Oh, you backstabbing son of a bitch!” Wade grunts in agony as he’s hoisted in the air again, this time on his back.

Fighting back against the pain, Wade uses his own momentum to flip himself behind Wolverine, throwing them both onto their backs on the ground, the blades of the Wolverine’s claws tearing more of his flesh and bone on their way out as he did so. Without missing a beat Wade pressed his guns against Wolverine’s sides and shot out several rounds as the older man let out a guttural scream of pain.

“Are you ready to be calm now?” Wade asks almost mockingly, guns still pressed to Wolverine’s ribs.

He’s met immediately with a headbutt, no doubt breaking his nose underneath the mask.

“Fuck!” Wade swears in pain as Wolverine rolls off him.

Not giving Wade any time to gather his bearings, the older mutant grabs him by his ankles before throwing him into a wall. Wade heard the bones in his arm snap as he crashed through the cement wall, tumbling backwards against a sunken monument that seemed familiar to him. Wade groaned as he stumbled back up to his feet, his arm snapped back into place painfully as he reloaded his gun.

“I don’t want to fight you, Peanut! Doesn’t matter what you did. I just need your help.” Wade called over to Wolverine as he stood across from him in the wasteland.

“I don’t fucking care,” Logan snaps back as he spits out a smoking bullet, the rest falling from his torso, his healing factor working over time to push them out.

“Fuck, this is gonna hurt,” Wade says more so to himself than anyone else, “Alright! Fuck it! Let’s give the people what they came for!”

“Let’s fucking go,” Logan says as he crouches down to his knees, readying himself for whatever Wade was about to throw at him.

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

You take a sharp much needed inhale through your nose as the final bone in your spine snaps back into place. Sputtering out a cough you sat up bltrying to block out the blinding light of the sun with your hand as a headache pulsed through your skull. Looking around you slowly take in the dilapidated scenery around you.

Where the hell were you? You thought to yourself as you looked down at your watch to check the time.

The screen was broken, a crack having spiderwebbed across the screen. You weren’t exactly sure when it had broken but from what you could tell from when it had stopped working it was well beyond midnight.

“Oh I’m so fucking fired tomorrow,” You say with a groan as you rise to your feet dusting yourself off.

The sound of shouting and rapid gunfire drew your attention in the distance. Approaching the sound as cautiously as you could, you peek over a mound of rubble to find Wade being held down by an enraged Wolverine with Wade’s katanas and baby knife sticking out of him, reminding you of a human pin cushion.

“Let’s see you grow your fucking head back!” He shouts as he goes to sink his claws into Wade’s throat.

Picking up the first thing you see laying around you run up behind the Wolverine hitting him in the head as hard as you could, breaking the branch in your hands on impact. With a heavy grunt, he stumbles off of Wade onto the ground.The Wolverine clutches his ear as he snaps his head up to glare at his assailant. The rage in his eyes shifts to shock as you stand over wade protectively, glaring down at him with your broken branch raised high and at the ready for you to swing at him again if need be.

Snapping out of his daze, Wolverine gets to his feet and with his claws sheathed going to strike the red suited clown again, when hastily Wade rises to his feet, immediately moving you behind him with his hands raised up in surrender.

“Wait, wait, I can fix it! I know how to fix it!” Wade shouted at the Wolverine not willing to put you or himself in the Wolverine’s wraith.

“Fix what?” Wolverine asks has he slowly starts to lower his fist as he looks back and forth between you two.

“Whatever it is that you did that made you so bad! Those freaks in the TVA, they have the power to end our universe, but they can also change yours!” Wade says pushing you further behind him, not liking how the man was eyeing you.

Logan looks between the two of you incredulously as if trying to understand if what Wade just told him was true or not.

“Well?” He asks gruffly, eyes now completely focused on you.

Realizing he was talking to you and that your answer might be his deciding factor on whether or not to help you, you take a deep breath as you walk out from behind Wade who looks at you skeptically for a moment.

“We just traveled the multiverse trying to find you because of the TVA,” You began with a surprised chuckle still reeling in that fact that you actually did do that as you returned Logan's intense gaze,“Until today I didn’t think any of this kinda stuff was possible… But it is so I believe him,” You said exchanging a look with Wade as you finish, he nods his head to you almost in thanks.

Logan stares at you a bit longer before letting out a frustrated huff as he looks away, sheathing his claws. You nearly let out a beath of relief at the sight until the older man resumed his attention on you two again. The Wolverine looked back and forth between the two of you as he felt his nerves starting to grate again.

“How the fuck do you know this clown?” Logan asks annoyed, his fists were down at his sides but still balled up ready to fight again if he needed to.

Peeking over Wade’s shoulder, you part your lips about to answer him when suddenly you're cut off by a new voice.

“Hey! We fight each other, we lose,” Said a voice from above you all.

Puzzled, you all look up in the direction the voice came from.

“Who the hell is that?” You asked scrunching your face up in confusion as you use a hand to block out the harsh rays of the sun from your vision.

“Dear God its him…” Wade said, astonished.

“Who?” You asked as you and Wolverine share a confused glance.

Above you, on a worn down billboard, stood a man. He was covered in loose fitting dark clothes with a hood draped over him, blocking his face from view.

“That my little chocolate drop is the One. The superhero equivalent to comfort food or molly. White guys’ answer to all the disappointments in another A-lister,” Wade went on rambling as the cloaked man jumped down and landed before the three of you.

“Now that’s a superhero landing!” Wade clapped as the cloaked man turned to point out into the desert

“They're coming,” The man said.

Alarmed, you all look in the direction of his focus. On the horizon you all could see three cars speeding towards you, all three of the giving off serious Mad Max vibes.

“Well they’re definitely driving angry,” Wade joked, though you could tell by the drop in his voice that he was assessing the entire situation very much aware of the danger you two were about to be in.

“I got this,” The cloaked man said pulling down his hood to reveal a familiar face, “Stay close.”

“Aye aye, Cap,” Wade says walking up behind him to wrap his arms around the man before he pulls them off of him awkwardly.

As the cars neared they circled around the four of you a few times, some of the men blew out crude whistles making you cringe in disgust as you clutched your broken branch to your chest. Finally they stopped, their vehicles parked around you, caging you four in.

“Cassandra is going to be giddy when she sees what we caught!” A man with stringy greasy hair grins, showing off his filthy teeth to the group, “You know you can’t run.”

“You see anyone running, dick for brains? You’re not gonna love what happens next,” The cloaked man retorted.

“Oh my god, he’s going to say it!” Wade says smacking one of his katana’s that still protruded from the Wolverine’s chest.

Logan stumbled back a bit with a weak ‘ah fuck’ as you instinctively reached out to steady him. He turned his head to look at you as soon as he felt your hands on him. You held his eyes for less than a second before abruptly removing yourself from him, now focusing on looking at anything else but him.

“Avengers Assem-!” Wade begins to shout as if anticipating what the cloaked man was about to say, however that’s not what he said at all.

“Flame on!”

“Sorry, what now?”

The cloaked man shot out into the sky in a ball of fire. He hovered over everyone for a moment before blasting out a stream of fire directly at the greasy man that had spoken before. The greasy man grins as he holds his hand out, absorbing the flames before he twists his fingers cutting off the cloaked man’s power like a faucet. The man barely had a second to register what happened before he began his miserable descent from the sky. He hit the billboard he was standing on before twice before flopping on the ground, completely unconscious.

“We don’t know that guy,” the Wolverine was quick to say.

“We thought we did,” Wade agreed as he looked over the unconscious man before turning back to the group of thugs.

“Oh but I know you,” A beastly looking man with pitch black eyes said as he dropped down to their level from atop a car.

His dark orbs were fixated on Wolverine, who returned his glare with his own as he bared his teeth at him with a growl.

“Holy shit… Sabretooth… your brother,” Wade said, a hint of excitement in his voice as he looked between the two.

“Ready to die?” Sabertooth asked as he stalked towards them, eyes never leaving Wolverine.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! Time!” Wade calls out as he begins to remove his weapons from Wolverine’s body giving him a long winded nonsensical pep talk in normal Wade fashion.

“Shut the fuck up!” Wolverine growls out, shoving him back into you.

What an asshole you thought to yourself with a scrunched up face.

The Wolverine lowered himself into a fighting stance before the two mutants lunged for each other. The two collided briefly in the middle as the familiar sound of metal tearing against bone and flesh rang through the air, before sliding past each other entirely. Both brothers stood on opposite sides of the dry field.

“What is it, girl? Is there trouble at the well?” Wade mocked with an innocent tilt of his head.

You might’ve laughed at the Lassie reference if it wasn’t for the fact that not a second later Sabretooth’s head rolled off his shoulders and right at your feet. You scrunched up your nose again, turning your head away in disgust as Wade picked it up.

“Behold! The head of your precious Queen, Furiosa! I have the Wolverine! I alone control her! You come for me! You come for her!” Wade declares as he raises the head in the air like a prize before he leans over into Logan’s ear, “I’m so sorry. I know it’s pronounced him. I’m gender blind. It’s my cross to bear.” Logan simply rolls his eyes at him.

“Who’s next?” He challenges looking around at the men who were left, waiting for someone to step up to him.

The greasy man let out an amused chuckle before calling out to one of his partners “Toad! You’re up!”

You look towards the other mutant and resist the urge to cringe again as he shoots out his slimy green tongue and pulls a lever. Instantly it activates a giant metal magnet that drags both Wade and Wolverine off their feet and into its pull.

“Wade!” you called out, unaware as a giant sentinel leg comes flying at you from behind, stunning you as it flies towards your companions, carrying you with it.

“Oh fu-“ Was all Wolverine had managed to get out before you and the sentinel leg crashed into him and Wade, knocking out the three of you on impact.