#these kinds of questions are totally welcome!!

[romerona]

The Cook and The Teacher!

Let's pretend The Bear and Abbot Elementary are in the same city.

Another cute interaction between Carmen (Carmy) Berzatto x Abbot Teacher Femreader! Sunshinereader!

You sat at the table, doing your best to appear interested as your date droned on about his latest work achievements. Something about managing accounts, sealing big deals, and being “essential” to the success of his company. You’d lost track of the details five minutes in, your polite smile starting to feel like a workout for your face.

“…but you wouldn’t get that,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, like you were a child. “Teaching kids and all. It’s like... coloring books and snack time, right?”

Your smile faltered, and you tightened your grip on the stem of your wine glass, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “Not quite. It’s actually pretty challenging—teaching is about shaping young minds, not just... crayons.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, nodding like he wasn’t really listening. “But you have to admit, it’s not exactly high stakes.” He leaned back in his chair, a smug grin stretching across his face. “I mean, no offense.”

“None taken,” you replied tightly, though the bile creeping up your neck said otherwise. You took a slow sip of your wine, hoping the glass might serve as a buffer between his words and your patience. Spoiler: it wasn’t working.

Inwardly, you cursed yourself for agreeing to this. What had Ava said when she pitched the idea? “Girl, you’re way too cute to be single and wasting away in that apartment of yours. You need to get out there. Shake things up. And this guy? Total catch—tall, successful, and probably rich. You’re welcome.”

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Ava’s relentless confidence had rubbed off on you, and the idea of putting yourself out there sounded... productive, if not promising. After all, your secret crush on your cute neighbor wasn’t going anywhere.

Carmy.

You couldn’t help but think about him as Ben prattled on about his “huge network.” Carmy was quiet, focused, and sweet in a way you didn’t think he realized. But he was also impossible to read. Sure, you’d had a few conversations here and there, shared a laugh or two, but he’d never made a move. You hadn’t either—paralyzed by the thought of misinterpreting things and embarrassing yourself.

Which is how you’d ended up here, with Ben. Wonderful, condescending Ben, who clearly thought your life’s work was a joke.

“And this place,” Ben said, gesturing around the restaurant with a smug grin. “Pretty great, right? Super exclusive. I know a guy who knows the chef here. Heard he’s like, a genius or something. Figured we’d go all out.”

You glanced around the dimly lit space, suddenly more aware of the upscale decor—the polished wood tables, the soft amber glow of the overhead lights, and the quiet hum of conversation that seemed to fill the air like music. It was... fancier than you’d expected.

The Bear.

You’d heard of it, of course—who hadn’t? It was one of those places people raved about, where getting a reservation was an accomplishment in itself. The kind of place where you know the food would be incredible, but the bill would make you question your life choices. Nice, but you were pretty sure you could only afford, like, a cup of water here.

Ben leaned in closer, grinning smugly. “This chef guy? Supposedly some kind of prodigy. I don’t know the details, but people say he’s a big deal. Good thing I’ve got connections, huh?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, noncommittal, as you glanced toward the bustling kitchen. A wave of heat and light spilled out from behind the pass, where you could just make out the shadowed figures of chefs moving in synchronized chaos.

As you sipped from your wine glass, trying to find something redeemable about Ben’s endless self-promotion, you wondered if maybe Ava had oversold this whole “dating adventure” thing.

Carmy spotted you the second you walked in.

He’d been at the pass, focused on plating an intricate dish—a delicate arrangement of seared scallops and edible flowers—when his gaze drifted toward the dining room. His hands paused mid-motion, a faint crease forming between his brows as he recognized you.

You were hard to miss, sitting near the window in a corner booth, your posture poised but just slightly tense. Dressed in something a little sleeker than usual, you looked... different. Not in a bad way—never in a bad way— Not that you ever looked anything less than beautiful, but tonight, something about you seemed… striking, enough that he found himself staring longer than he should’ve.

His eyes flicked to the guy sitting across from you. The guy who was laughing too loud, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place, gesturing with wild hands as he talked. You, on the other hand, wore a polite smile that didn’t quite light up the room as it usually did.

Carmy’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t sure why the sight of you with someone else tugged at his chest the way it did, but it lingered, heavy and unwelcome.

It’s none of your business, he told himself, forcing his focus back to the dish in front of him. You weren’t his to worry about.

You weren’t his at all.

Still, his gaze flicked back toward your table, almost involuntarily, catching the way your date seemed oblivious to your discomfort. Carmy’s stomach twisted at the thought. He didn’t know what he expected—maybe for the guy to notice the way you played with your napkin or to tone down his boisterous tone—but it wasn’t this.

“Chef?” Sydney’s voice broke his focus, sharp but professional.

“Yeah,” he muttered, snapping back to reality. His eyes returned to the plate in front of him, the arrangement now slightly skewed from his distraction. He adjusted it quickly, his movements precise but tighter than usual. “Thanks, Chef.”

As Sydney moved on, Carmy risked one last glance at you. The corner booth, the dim lighting, the guy who couldn’t seem to shut up—it all felt wrong. But he pushed it down, buried it under the quiet rhythm of the kitchen, telling himself it wasn’t his place to care.

And yet, he did.

He cared enough to, like some kind of creep, step out of the kitchen and hover near the hallway that led to the restrooms. It wasn’t a plan—not really. He told himself he just needed a breather, a moment to clear his head and shake off the knot in his chest. But he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself.

The low hum of the restaurant buzzed in his ears as he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He didn’t even know what he’d say if you saw him. Maybe he’d play it off, and act like he just happened to be there. But then, what were the odds you’d even notice him? You were here with someone else, after all.

It was ridiculous, he knew that—irrational even— he should go back, really what the fuck was he thinking--

But the sound of heels clicking softly against the floor pulled him from his spiralling thoughts. His breath hitched as you turned the corner, and your expression turned to one of shock when you spotted him.

“Carmy?” you said, stopping mid-step. Your voice carried a note of surprise, but there was something else there too—curiosity, maybe, or even relief at seeing a familiar face in such an unfamiliar situation.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little straighter, as if he hadn’t just been loitering near the hallway like a guilty teenager. He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

You blinked, your eyes flicking over his clothes—the crisp white uniform. The realization dawned on you, and your brows lifted in surprise.

“You work here?”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting his weight slightly. “I, uh... I own it.”

Your eyes widened, and you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “You own it?”

“Yeah,” he said again, a bit softer this time. His lips twitched into a faint, almost sheepish smile. “I started it a while back. Kind of… a long story.”

You took a moment to process this revelation, glancing around the restaurant as if seeing it in a new light. The warm lighting, the carefully plated dishes you’d glimpsed on their way to other tables—it all made sense now. Of course, this was Carmy’s place. It was thoughtful, deliberate, but somehow unpretentious.

“Wow,” you said, meeting his gaze again. “That’s... impressive.”

Carmy shrugged, his hands slipping into his pockets. “It’s just work. Nothing fancy.”

“Nothing fancy?” you repeated, a small laugh escaping as you gestured toward the elegant decor. “Carmy, this place is gorgeous. You���re way too modest.”

"Thanks," His lips twitched into a faint smile, but his eyes lingered on you, searching before he added, “You didn’t look like you were having a great time out there.”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic, your surprise melting into something closer to embarrassment.

“Oh,” you said, glancing toward the dining room before meeting his gaze again. “Yeah, it’s... it’s a date.”

Carmy’s jaw tightened imperceptibly, though his expression didn’t waver.

“Figured,” he muttered, his voice steady but low.

“Not a great one,” you admitted, your lips quirking into a dry smile. “Blind date, courtesy of Ava. It’s... fine, I guess. He’s just... not my type.”

Carmy raised an eyebrow, his curiosity getting the better of him. “What’s your type, then?”

The question caught you off guard, your breath hitching slightly as his words hung in the air. You laughed softly, deflecting. “I don’t know. Someone who doesn’t treat teaching like it’s a hobby or call it a job anyone can do.”

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, and he shook his head in disbelief. “He did not say that.”

You groaned dramatically, closing your eyes as if the memory physically pained you. “Oh, but he did. Word for word, and I quote: ‘Teaching is important, I guess. But it’s gotta be, like… easy, right? Summers off, finger painting, all that?’ And then—then!—he laughed. Like he’d just unlocked the secret to stand-up comedy.”

Carmy blinked, his smirk fading into something closer to incredulity. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were,” you said, sighing dramatically. “You’d think he was trying out his Type Five for open mic night. And the pièce de résistance? He throws in the classic ‘no offense.’ Like that’s a verbal Ctrl+Z or something.”

That earned a real laugh from Carmy this time, his shoulders shaking slightly as he shook his head. “What the hell? So, this is what you’re dealing with?”

“Oh, but I’m thriving,” you replied, your tone dripping with sarcasm waving your hand dismissively. “Peak romantic energy. Nothing like being told my career is a glorified arts-and-crafts workshop to really get the sparks flying.”

Carmy leaned slightly against the wall, crossing his arms as he listened. His expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—irritation, maybe, or quiet disbelief. “And you’re still out there?”

“Excellent question, Chef Carmy,” you said, pointing at him with mock gravity. “I think it’s a mix of morbid curiosity, sheer stubbornness, and maybe a touch of guilt. I mean, he did spring for the wine. Even if he did refer to it as a ‘top-shelf pour.’”

That made Carmy snort, his head dropping slightly as he tried to compose himself. “Top-shelf pour, huh? Sounds like a real charmer.”

You laughed softly, though there was a bite of bitterness in it. “Oh, totally. It’s been a real dream date. Honestly, if he makes one more crack about teaching being ‘easy,’ I might just—” You mimed strangling someone, your hands curling dramatically as you added a mock growl for effect.

Carmy chuckled, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “I’d pay to see that.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you shot back, your grin sharpening. “It might get me out of this date, but I’m pretty sure assault charges aren’t a great look for me.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.”

Your playful energy dimmed slightly as you glanced toward the dining room. “Anyway, I should probably get back out there before he starts mansplaining the wine list to the waitress. Again.”

Carmy’s lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh, but instead, he straightened up quickly, the weight of his role as head chef settling back onto his shoulders. “Yeah, I should... head back to the kitchen too. Got a lot to wrap up tonight.”

You turned back to him, your expression softening. “Thanks, by the way,” you said, holding his gaze. “For... checking in, I guess. You didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged a gesture that looked casual but felt like it carried more weight. His voice dropped slightly as he replied, “Yeah, I did.”

The words hung there for a beat, his meaning lingering just beneath the surface as the two of you locked eyes. The air between you felt heavy, almost tangible, like a thread being pulled taut. You wanted to say something—anything. Maybe a joke to break the tension, or maybe the truth: that you liked him, that you wished it was him sitting across from you tonight, making you laugh instead of testing your patience.

Unbeknownst to you, Carmy’s thoughts ran dangerously close to yours. He’d been replaying every interaction with you since the day you moved in next door, every laugh, every casual smile. The thought of you with someone else—someone who didn’t seem to notice the little things about you the way he did—made his chest tighten in ways he couldn’t explain.

But before either of you could give voice to the thoughts swirling in your heads, the faint sound of your date’s voice carried through the hallway, breaking the moment like a needle scratching across a record. You winced slightly, the weight of reality pulling you back.

“Ugh. That’s my cue,” you said, shooting Carmy an exaggerated grimace. “Duty calls.”

Carmy nodded, his expression carefully neutral, though the flicker in his eyes betrayed the emotions he was trying to keep in check. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks,” you said with a wry grin. “I’ll need it.”

Despite his words, his gaze lingered on yours, as if searching for something unspoken. For a moment, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d say something more, but instead, he stepped back, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“See you around,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, your heart squeezing as you turned to head back toward the dining room. “See you around.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were leaving something unfinished behind. And Carmy, watching you go, felt much the same, his hands flexing at his sides as he fought the urge to call after you.

When he finally turned back toward the kitchen, his jaw tightened, the moment still playing over in his mind. He rubbed the back of his neck, willing himself to focus as he pushed open the swinging door. The familiar clatter and hum of the kitchen greeted him, but it did little to drown out the thoughts circling his head.

He barely made it three steps before Richie appeared, leaning casually against the counter with his signature smirk firmly in place.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Richie drawled, crossing his arms. “What’s the matter, Cousin? Lose track of time out there? Or were you too busy making googly eyes at the customer? Can't blame you thought, she's gorgeous.”

Carmy’s jaw ticked, his shoulders stiffening. “Shut up, Richie.”

--------

Your date’s voice droned on, a monotonous background noise to your growing sense of regret. Why had you agreed to this? Why hadn’t you just stayed home with a glass of wine and a good book?

Just as you were contemplating an excuse to leave—feigning a sudden headache, maybe, or an urgent call from a friend—a waiter approached your table. It wasn’t the same one who had been serving you throughout the evening, but an older guy with an easy smile and a glimmering of mischief in his eyes carrying a small plate in hand. The plate held an assortment of beautifully arranged pastries, each one delicate and intricate, like a tiny work of art.

“Oh, I didn’t order this,” you said, your brow furrowing as you looked up at him.

“It’s from the chef,” the waiter replied, his tone polite but with a glimmer of something knowing in his eyes.

Your eyes widened slightly, your breath catching as you glanced instinctively toward the kitchen pass. Sure enough, Carmy was there, leaning slightly against the counter, his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, and his gaze was fixed squarely on you.

Your heart gave a little jolt, heat creeping up your neck as you turned back to the table.

Your date, meanwhile, was entirely oblivious to the silent exchange. He grinned widely, puffing out his chest a little as he gestured to the plate. “See? Told you this place was top-notch. They must’ve recognized me. Perks of being a regular.”

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing. Instead, you bit back your amusement, your lips twitching into a barely restrained smile as you reached for one of the pastries.

“Right,” you said lightly, turning the pastry over in your hand. “Must be your VIP status.”

As you took a bite, the pastry practically melted in your mouth, a perfect blend of buttery richness and delicate sweetness. It was so good it almost made you forget the company you were keeping—almost.

“You know, this kind of attention doesn’t happen just anywhere. It’s all about knowing the right people.”

“Mmm,” you murmured, taking a bite of one of the delicate confections. It melted in your mouth, rich and buttery, with just the right amount of sweetness.

When you glanced back toward the pass, Carmy was already gone, disappearing back into the kitchen as seamlessly as he’d appeared. But his gesture lingered, wrapping around you like a quiet reassurance, a small thread of comfort in an otherwise unbearable evening.

And for the first time that night, your smile wasn’t forced.

A/N: Heyyy I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to all those people who comment, like and reblog. Like fr you all make my week. Always looking for some ideas so please feel free to ask.

Also, please tell me if you want to be tagged. Be safe out there, please the world is too crazy at the moment. <3

Tags:

@hiitsmebbygrl16 @urthem00n @svzwriting29 @tyferbebe

@akornsworld @khxna @ruthyalva96 @beingalive1

@darkestbeforethedawn16 @turtle-cant-communicate spideybv28 veryberryjelly @daisy-the-quake

[sixohsixoheightfourtwo]

re: what fandom 'a little life' came from, my immediate knee-jerk thought was "backstreet boys." i have absolutely no basis for this other than Terminally Online Brain Worms esp bc..........there are 5 of those boyband fellas and as far as i remember only 4 main characters in that book lmfao. what can i say. the boyband angle feel right

yeah i'll incorporate that into my belief system

[milkloafy]

I COULD BE YOUR CRUSH — WRIOTHESLEY

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you gush about your crush to neuvillette over some tea, and your crush unexpectedly joins the tea party and overhears you talking about him. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, fem!reader (use of princess as a petname), sassy neuvi, mentions of ayato ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.2k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: alexa play crush by tessa violet,, LOL i was thinking so hard about the song title then i was like okay yeah these lyrics work ;-; titles are so hard.. anywayyy PLS ENJOY SOME WRIO FLUFF FOR THE SOUL !!

“You just don’t understand, Neuvillette,” you sighed dramatically, stabbing your fork into the delicate cake in front of you. “He’s totally swoon-worthy.”

Neuvillette took a sip of his tea before carefully placing the cup back on its saucer. For a while, he continued to stay silent, as if considering his words.

Once he finally opened his mouth, the only question that came out was a calm, “How so?”

It didn’t take long for a million reasons to pop into your head.

“Well…have you seen his arms?” you gushed. “Is that not enough of a reason in itself?”

Neuvillette scoffed, a smile of amusement playing on his lips.

“That’s not all, of course,” you clarified, grabbing a throw pillow from the sofa next to you and hugging it close to your chest. “He’s also caring and kind and treats everyone with respect, no matter who they are.” 

Neuvillette’s gaze flickered briefly to the door behind you, but you paid it no mind.

“Not to mention how he looks when he gets all serious. Neuvillette, have you ever seen him talk about a prisoner he had to punish? It’s so…” You hid your face behind the pillow, cheeks flaming at the thought.

Before you had a chance to collect yourself, you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You immediately stilled in your seat, slowly bringing the pillow back down to your lap.

“Sorry I’m late. Who are we talking about?”

Neuvillette smiled, ignoring your frantic look directed right at him. “Wriothesley, welcome. You are not too late. Please, take a seat.”

Wriothesley slipped onto the sofa, taking a seat next to you. Neuvillette poured him a cup of tea that he graciously accepted. Looking over at you, Wriothesley brought the drink up to his face and asked, “Care to tell me who you were speaking of before I arrived? It sounded like you were singing their praises.”

You fiddled with the the hem of your silk pajamas— Neuvillette failed to inform you beforehand that a certain someone would be joining the tea party, so you appeared in your regular sleep clothes. You racked your brain trying to come up with a response. 

“Oh, you know… Kamisato Ayato,” you managed, vaguely remembering how you saw his name and face on the cover of The Steambird recently. “The head of the Kamisato clan is such a…dashing and strong leader. I think.” 

“I didn’t realize you were close to Kamisato,” commented Wriothesley, sitting with one leg loosely draped over the other as he leaned back against the sofa.

“Oh,” you shook your head, “no. No, I’ve never even met him.”

Wriothesley raised a singular eyebrow in question. “Your words earlier seemed so strong for something directed at a man you have never met.” 

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant even though your heart threatened to beat our of your chest. “You know how enamored a crush can make someone.” 

“I do,” Wriothesley agreed, his gaze locked onto yours so intensely that you almost had to blink.

“I’m sure you do,” remarked Neuvillette, still sipping his tea.

You and Wriothesley both looked over at him.

Neuvillette blinked. “Did you forget I was here? This is my office, is it not?” When no one responded, he sighed. “Well, I finished the last of my tea and I have some work to wrap up. Feel free to stay as long as you need.”

Neuvillette made his way back to his desk and Wriothesley refocused his attention towards you. 

“So. Kamisato Ayato,” he brought the clan leader up once more.

You choked out a laugh of exasperation. “Are we still on this? Just let me have my silly little crush on someone across the world who doesn’t even know I exist.”

Tapping his fingers against the teacup, Wriothesley huffed. You realized he looked almost annoyed and frustrated.

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, Wriothesley opened his mouth and said, “Would it be overbearing of me to say I wish you had said a different name when I asked who you were gushing over?”

A strange mixture of curiosity and hope filled your chest.

Curiosity as to who he thought you were talking about. Hope that maybe he thought it might’ve been him. 

“You could never be overbearing,” you assured, grabbing a small biscuit from the table and softening it up in your warm tea. “Would it be nosy of me to ask who you wished I was gushing over?”

Wriothesley grinned. “You are certainly nosy. But it’s one of the things I like about you.”

You laughed, wiping a crumb off your lip with a napkin. “Does that mean you won’t tell me?”

“Perhaps another day.”

In the distance, you heard Neuvillette clear his throat loudly. You looked over and saw him glaring straight at Wriothesley. They stayed like that for a while, having a silent conversation with their eyes. Whatever it was, it seemed intense. You were quite glad that glare wasn’t directed at you.

“I believe Wriothesley would like to share that information with you now,” Neuvillette announced after Wriothesley looked away with a sigh.

“Does he?”

“I do,” Wriothesley confirmed, the slightest bit begrudgingly. “Me.”

You waited for him to say more, but he didn’t elaborate. 

You blinked. “What about you?” 

“Are you going to make me say it?” Wriothesley let out a strangled laugh, grabbing a biscuit to munch on himself. “When I overheard you and Neuvillette talking about your crush, I was hoping it was about me.”

You blinked. “Why about you?” 

Neuvillette made a strange noise as a book fell off his desk. He cleared his throat. “Pardon me.”

You barely had time to wonder if he was okay before Wriothesley finally responded.

“You really don’t make things easy for me, isn’t that right, princess?” Wriothesley said with a helpless smile. “I hoped you were saying such sweet things about me, since I would say equally sweet things about you.”

With your stomach turning at both the pet name and his admission, you managed to say, “And if I were to tell you it really was about you?”

“That would make me a very happy man,” he said, unable to contain his delight. “Who wouldn’t be happy to hear the most beautiful and caring person they know is interested in them as well?”

You heard Neuvillette tap his foot impatiently in the background, but you ignored him. You and Wriothesley were having a moment here. 

“So, you’re saying you like me, too?” you asked, not wanting there to be any chance of a misunderstanding. The two of you made it this far, you couldn’t let it fall apart now.

“I like you very much,” said Wriothesley with a nod. “And I have something to take care of at the Fortress this week, but when we both have time next week, perhaps we can celebrate with a dinner. Without Neuvillette there.”

“Please, without me there,” Neuvillette chimed in, his arms folded as he sat in his chair.

You laughed, standing up and brushing the imaginary dust off your pajamas. “All right, I can take a hint, Neuvillette. I’ll help you clean up before I go. And Wriothesley…” 

“Hmm?”

You met his gaze and the corners of his eyes crinkled. You fought off a giggle as you returned Wriothesley’s smile, an overwhelming feeling of happiness filling you. “It’s a date.”

[fairytaleendingss]

Room for One More?

Chapter 9

Summary: Secrets are revealed on New Years Eve.

CW: Alcohol consumption, sexual references, mention of cigarettes, swearing, lots of drama.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

--

"YOU SLEPT WITH SIRIUS?!"

"Shh! Mary keep your voice down," you uttered, looking around to see how many of your coworker's heads had swivelled towards you in response to Mary's loud exclamation.

"Sorry," she grimaced. "I'm just.. I'm in shock."

You sighed and leaned back where you were perched on the corner of her desk. "I think I am a bit as well."

There was a pause.

"Well, was it good?"

"Mary! Oh my god!" you groaned and threw a hand over your face to hide your mortification.

"What? I'm just asking. I can't say that I haven't imagined it once or twice myself-"

You slapped her gently across the shoulder with the back of your hand. "You're distrubed. You know that?"

She smirked. "You know you love me."

You rolled your eyes affectionately at your friend. "Anyway, we'd been drinking and it was Christmas and we were having such a wonderful time. I think we just got swept up in it all and now I don't know what to do. Things have been kind of... weird between us."

"Well have you guys talked about it?" Mary inquired.

"That's the thing. Afterwards he just kind of moved on like it never happened. I don't know if he thinks it was a mistake or something but it's stressing me out."

"Hmm," a thoughtful look crossed Mary's face as she took everything in. "Well how are you feeling about it? Do you think it was a mistake?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. "No? I-I don't think so. I dont know."

A look of realisation washed over Mary's face. "Do you like him??"

"I mean, of course I like him. I'm just not sure I like like him."

Your friend sighed exasperatedly. "Oh my god! We're not in Primary School, just answer the damn question!"

"Fine! I guess the answer is... yes?" you sighed. "But whatever! Does it even make a difference? He's made it exceptionally clear that he doesn't feel the same way."

"Look," Mary huffed, her expression growing sincere. "Sirius is great. He's fun and friendly and a total flirt but he's also been known to be a little emotionally constipated. Just be honest with him. Talk to him about it. He's not going to be able to pick up on any signals you're trying to send him."

You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a breath throught your nose. "Ugh fine."

"Good girl," Mary smiled. "Now go away. I actually have some work to get done today."

"Oh fine. I suppose I know when I'm not wanted," you teased, getting up and walking back towards your desk.

"Love you!" Mary called lightheartedly as you walked away.

"Yeah, yeah," you joked in response.

As you arrived back at your desk and slumped down in your chair, prepared to get back to work, a head peaked down at you over the cubical.

"Oh, you're back, I see."

You jumped slightly at the unexpected voice and looked up to see its perpertrator.

"Yes, Glenn. Hi. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Glenn was a new employee in your office and he sat in the cubical opposite yours. He was only a few years older than you and he was tall and fit with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. In the few weeks you'd known him for, he'd been particularly friendly towards you and recently you'd been getting the idea that he had taken a liking to you.

You weren't interested of course. He was an attractive guy but not really your type. And with everything going on with Sirius over the last week, you'd been making a effort to put some distance between you. You definitely weren't looking for anything of that nature right now and you didn't want to give him the wrong impression. However, Glenn was nothing if not persistant.

"Actually, I was just wondering if you had any plans for new years tonight? A few of my mates are throwing a party and you're welcome to join us if you're interested."

You sent him you're most empathetic smile. "That sounds lovely but unfortunately I already have some plans with my friends."

He sighed, flashing you a grin that looked suspiciously rehearsed. "Oh well. No problem. It was worth a shot. You have fun tonight."

"You too, Glenn."

As the man dissapeared back over the divider, you let out a heafty sigh. Tonight was surely going to be interesting.

--

The view was impeccable from the bar where your friends had gathered to spend New Years. In fact, seated beside a huge floor to ceiling window, you suspected you'd have a clear view of the New Years fireworks.

It was a classy joint, one that Dorcas had managed to get you access to through one of her fancy lawyer contacts.

Everyone was assembled on stools around a table, looking out over the London skyline. It was about four hours until midnight and the group was chatting excitedly in the lead up.

"I've got shots!" Mary called out and everyone cheered as she returned to the table with a tray.

She passed the drinks around and then took her seat beside you.

"Well, I suggest a toast!" James called out, grabbing the attention of the group. "To a wonderful year ahead, and many more memories with old, and new, friends!"

He emphasised the last line with a pointed look in your direction and you felt your cheeks growing hot.

"Cheers!" Marlene shouted enthusiastically and the others echoed her sentiments, clinking glasses and swallowing their drinks.

The burning of the liquor was welcomed as the drink ran down your throat. You'd been thinking a lot about what Mary had said to you in regards to your situation with Sirius. And as he sat beside you, laughing animatedly at one of Peter's stories, it only confirmed your worst fears. Maybe you were starting to develop feelings for your roommate. You grimaced at the thought. Things were bound to get messy in situations like this.

"So guys," Sybil piped up from across the table. "Let's all go around and say our New Years resolutions."

"Oh, I'll go first!" James volunteered. "I hope my team continues to play a great season annnddd... I want to work out more."

There was a collective groan.

"Come on, James. That's not a real one!" Mary complained.

Sirius chuckled, taking a pointed sip of his drink. "Yeah! You already work out like 7 times a day!"

"Ugh, okay fine!" James responded with groan. He thought for a moment. "How about this one. I'd like to fall in love this year."

You didn't miss the way his eyes flickered across the table towards Lily and you felt your heart sink. Lily seemed to take notice a well as she averted her eyes, taking a heafty gulp of the drink in her hand.

"Aww, James. Always the romantic, aren't you?" Marlene chuckled.

"Shut up." James rolled his eyes playfully. "Your turn then, Marls."

"Okay," She took a deep breath. "My goal this year is to become super rich and famous and sucessful."

"I second that!" Mary called across the table and you giggled as they clinked their glasses.

"Y/n. Your turn," Dorcas announced.

"Oh okay, um..." you thought for a moment, your gaze flashing to James and Remus across the table, then over to Sirius, who was watching you expectanly, a playlful glimmer in his stormy eyes.

You then looked back towards the rest of the group. "This year, I'd like to spend some more time with you lovely people."

A round of cooing echoed across the table and Mary threw her arms around you.

"Well aren't you just the sweetest!"

"Oh, and I'd like to work more on my novel," you added.

"Alright, alright. Sirius, you're up!" Marlene chimed.

The boy beside you pursed his lips, looking off into the distance as if deep in thought. Then, after a long moment, he turned back to all of you with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

"This year, I want to have lots of amazing sex!"

"Ew. Sirius, you're so foul," Lily exclaimed, followed by a symphany of similar sentiments from the other members of the group.

While everyone else was distracted, grumbling and groaning about Sirius' bluntness, the man leaned down towards you.

"You look great tonight, by the way." He whispered into your hair.

You gulped thickly, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You opted for downing the remainder of your Vodka, Lime and Soda.

--

As the evening drew on, you found yourself growing more anxious in Sirius' presence. You weren't quite sure what his game was, whether it was the alcohol or he was just feeling extra bold tonight, but he'd been suspiciously flirtatious.

You didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to let him. To let him woo you and go crawling back for more of what you'd had together on Christmas Night. However, the other, more logical part of you, told you that was a terrible idea. He was your roommate afterall. The last thing you wanted was to start some complicated friends-with-benefits situation with a guy you lived with, especially one that you had sort of, maybe, possibly had caught feelings for.

You downed another drink, feeling the alcohol grip you and hoped it would help to ease the nerves ever so slightly. You realised then, that you were staring.

Sirius had gone to the bar to order another round of drinks and you'd been watching with bated breath as he sent his signature smile to a girl wearing an explicitly tight black dress. You noticed the way she leaned forward, pressing her cleavage up against the bar as she spoke to him. God, could she be anymore obvious?

"Calm the hell down, y/n!" You thought to yourself. "It's not like you guys are together. He can flirt with whoever he wants."

"Hey, are you okay?" you raked your eyes away from the scene as a voice came from beside you.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," You muttered absently, too distracted to notice that it was Remus who asked the question.

"Okay, never have I ever... made out with more than one person on the same night!" Mary's voice rang out and you forced your attention back to the group.

You weren't sure when this game had begun but you suspected it was suggested by one of the girls (likely Mary or Marlene) as a way to pass the final hour until midnight. You hadn't participated in this game since probably highschool, but you were all a few drinks in at this point so you figured, what the hell?

You watched as Marlene, James and Dorcas all took a sip. Then Lily sent Mary a pointed look.

"Come on, Mary. That's not how the game works. You have to say something you haven't done."

"I haven't!" Mary responded. Then she paused. "Oh wait, yeah I definitely have."

Everyone chuckled as she took a drink.

"Alright! Dorcas! Your turn." Mary nudged the girl in the side.

Dorcas rolled her eyes. "For the record, I just want to say, I think this game is stupid."

"Come on babe. Don't be a party pooper!" Marlene exclaimed, leaning in towards her girlfriend. "How else are we supposed to learn everyone's deepest darkest secrets."

Dorcas sighed and shook her head but there was a hint of a smile on her face. She really could never say no to Marlene.

"Ugh, fine. Never have I ever stolen something."

"Well that's a hard one," Mary muttered. "What do we count as stealing? Because I've stolen stuff from James a ton of times."

"Oi!" James shouted, looking positively affronted. Mary sent him an apologetic smile.

"No, not like that," Dorcas clarified. "It had to have been from an actual shop."

You all sat up straight for a moment, curiously looking around the group to see if anyone had. Hesitantly, Peter lifted his glass to his lips.

"Pete! What the hell!" James exclaimed.

"I don't know, I went through a phase in highschool!"

"What sort of stuff did you take?" Marlene pressed.

Peter shrugged. "Chocolate and ciggarettes, mostly."

There was an eruption of laughter that rippled across the table at Peter's revelation.

"Wow, I didn't know there was a degenerate among us," Lily teased, watching Peter's face flush bright red.

"Okay, okay. My turn!" Marlene said, once the laughter died down. "Never have I ever... gotten really sloshed and fallen down the stairs at my 18th birthday party"

"Hey! That's not fair!" James moaned, taking a sip of his beer. "You can't do targeted ones!"

Marlene just shrugged. "Sorry, but I don't think that was established in the rules."

James smirked. "Fine then! Never have I ever had sex with someone at this table."

Your blood ran cold for a moment as you glanced back towards the bar. You sighed in relief when you saw that Sirius was still over there. In that case, you technically hadn't slept with anyone at the table. You were off the hook for now.

Marlene rolled her eyes at James and took a drink, as well as Dorcas, Peter and Sybil, however, you watched James' eyes widen as Mary also took a long sip.

"Mary!" Lily hissed across the table. Your heart plummeted.

"What?" Mary shrugged, the alcohol clearly having gone to her head. "We have to! It's the rules."

"Wait! Hold on," Marlene murmered, her eyes drifting between the two girls. "Did you guys..."

There was a heavy anticipatory silence that hung over the table as you all awaited Lily's response. The girl grimaced, as she tried to muster some kind of explanation.

It was then that her eyes drifted up to meet James' pleading ones.

"Lily?" the boy asked softly. Your heart broke for him.

"So I guess the cat's out of the bag huh?" the girl sighed. "Mary and I have sort of been seeing each other. Romantically."

"Holy shit!" Marlene shouted, candid and straight to the point as she usually was in these situations.

"How long has this been going on?" Dorcas questioned.

"It's still really new," Lily explained.

"We were just trying to figure out the right time to tell you guys," Mary added.

"So you're the one Mary has been seeing?" James murmered.

"Yes," Lily responded. "I'm sorry James but you had to know it was never going to work out between us."

The boy sighed, running a hand through his unruly curls. "Yeah, I know."

Then he started to stand. "I think I just need some air for a minute."

"James, wait-" Remus reached out to grab his arm but James shook him off.

"I just need minute," he repeated, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and hurrying towards the exit. Part of you wanted to go after him but the other part recognised that he probably needed some space to process things.

"Sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to ruin the night," Mary murmered folornly.

"No hun! you didn't ruin anything," you comforted.

"Yeah, we're really happy for you two," Dorcas added.

"Really?"

Everyone nodded.

"Absolutely. You both deserve to be happy," Remus confirmed.

Wide smiles crossed over the girls' faces.

--

It was two minutes until midnight and Sirius was nowhere to be seen. Despite your better judgement, you couldn't help but feel slightly disapointed. You supposed that there was some small aspect of your mind that hoped Sirius would be your New Years kiss.

You knew it was wishful thinking, especially when you hadn't even spoken about what happened between you, but with how he'd been acting towards you throughout the night, you'd allowed yourself to nurture that flicker of hope.

As people crowded around the window and the countdown began, you found your eyes searching the room for the dark haired man, wondering if just maybe, he'd make a last minute appearance.

"Five, four, three, two..."

You scanned the space one last time.

"One!"

You're last flicker of hope died out as your eyes finally landed on his form.

"Happy New Year!"

The shouts and cheers faded into the background as you watched Sirius press his lips to those of the boob-y blonde you'd seen him flirting with before.

The moment seemed to go in slow motion. You watched from afar as he tangled his hand in her hair, just as he'd done in yours only a week prior.

"Of course," you thought. "Typical"

It was Sirius Black you were talking about. You were stupid to think you meant anything more to him than a casual night of fun.

In an instant, you turned on your heel and walked towards the door, the sounds of the party fading into the background. You decided, instead of bumming around waiting for Sirius to notice you, you'd go look for James, just as you should've done much earlier.

The cold hit you like a block of cement as you stepped outside onto the street. It didn't take you long to find him.

He was sitting on the curb, outside of he bar, arms resting on his knees as he looked up towards the sky. Another explosion sounded and a flash of colour filled the air. In the distance, you could hear the cheers of excited people all around as they celebrated.

"Happy New Year, James."

He turned to look at you and in the flash of light, as another firework flickered across the sky, you were able to notice the faint tear tracks that lined his cheeks.

"Oh hey." he sniffled, rubbing a hand beneath his glasses and trying to regain a semblance of composure.

BANG!

You flopped unceremoniously onto the ground beside him as another flash filled the sky. You gave him a sympathetic smile. Funnily enough, in that moment, you knew exactly how he felt.

"Are you okay?" You asked him gently.

He let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah. I will be."

BANG!

"Good."

You both turned your gazes back to the display, taking in the beautiful array of colours filling the air. It wasn't quite the view you'd expected for the night, but somehow, that didn't seem to matter.

As you continued to watch the fireworks, you felt the gentle touch of a hand wrapping around your own. You smiled slightly as your fingers intertwined.

BANG!

Slowly, you shuffled closer and leaned into him, gently resting your head on James broad shoulder.

You stayed like that a while, just taking in the show, and each other's company.

--

Taglist:

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[headkiss]

hellooo, hope everything's okay with you:) i was thinking of a hotch request, of bau!reader being "his favourite" in the team (in a way that the team can see he has a soft spot for her). maybe the members of the team seeing little interactions between them two and noticing it <33 i just *loved* the one you wrote about hotch helping her in a bau party, and would love to see more of hotch protecting her and being soft with her, during the jobs as well!! thank you so muchhhh, hope you have a good day x

hiii thank u so much baby!!! this has been in my drafts since september i’m so sorry for the delay!! i hope this is okay <3 | 0.6k of fluff

Aaron Hotchner was never one to play favorites. He’s always loved his team, has always felt fond towards its members in one way or another, but none ever seemed to outrank the other.

Until you.

You’d joined the BAU as a temporary replacement, and then, you just stayed. You fit right in, which wasn’t hard to do considering how welcoming everyone had been, but it still felt like the kind of luck that isn’t easy to come by.

Hotch has felt a sort of pull towards you ever since you stepped into the bureau, your shirt a little wrinkled, smile nervous and beautiful. He’s grown to feel for you in a way that doesn’t compare to how he feels towards the others. It’s completely different; incomparable.

Even now, over a year since you’ve joined the team, Hotch can’t help but feel like he has to protect you, has to make sure you’re okay.

The others know it, too.

Derek has taken to doing his very own Hotch impression, a lovestruck version of him, that is. Spencer tells Aaron daily that he should just tell you how he feels. Emily likes to say, ‘you’re going soft, Hotchner.’ And all he can do is fight a smile and shake his head.

Even now, in some town in Indiana, Aaron can’t help but look for you in the busy station. It’s early in the morning, he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. One for him, the other for you.

“Aw, thanks, you shouldn’t have,” Derek says, reaching for one of the coffees.

“You know that’s not for you, Morgan.”

Pretending to be hurt, Derek walks off towards Spencer, a ‘can you believe him?’ look on his face. Hotch vaguely registers Spencer’s voice saying something like, “I believe that’s what they call favoritism.”

Then, the conversation goes quiet for Aaron’s ears, because he sees you. You’ve got a sweater on today, the sleeves long enough that only your fingertips poke out. His feet are walking towards you before his brain processes it.

Before he reaches you, an officer from the station does. “Hey, miss, reporters aren’t allowed inside.”

You take a step back, eyebrows furrowing at the man questioning your presence, “I’m not a reporter. They cleared me at the door.”

“Nice try, sweetheart, I’ve heard it all before-“

“Agent,” Hotch steps in, trying not to squeeze the coffee cups too hard. “Good morning, coffee for you.”

Your gaze softens as soon as it flicks from the officer and over to Hotch. Your fingers brush when you grab the drink from him, sparks shooting up your arm.

“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”

“Is there a problem here, officer?” Aaron asks, tilting his head.

“No, no, sir. Thank you for coming down and helping out.”

“It’s what we do,” Hotch emphasizes the ‘we,’ like he’s making sure the officer knows that you’re as much a part of this as he is.

The officer nods and walks off, leaving the two of you as alone as you can be in the station.

“Thank you, Aaron,” you say, nudging your elbow against his arm gently. “I totally could’ve handled it, though.”

He smiles because you’re the only one on the team who calls him Aaron. He likes it that way.

“I know, honey.” And he’s the only one who calls you honey. “But I didn’t really feel like explaining why one of my agents punched an officer today.”

“I was not going to punch him!” You laugh, your morning getting better by the second. “Maybe berate him a little. That’s all.”

“Sure it is.”

When you and Aaron walk into the conference room where the rest of the team is waiting, you’re met with the same type of stare from all of them. Knowing, expecting, secretly admiring.

You duck your head and take a sip of your coffee, forever grateful that you joined this team, that you found these people, that Aaron is beside you where you always seem to want him to be.

“They’re hopeless,” Emily whispers to Spencer.

Aaron’s too busy looking at your face to hear.

[colourstreakgryffin]

I was wondering if you can do Alastor x daughter! Reader? She’s manifested from his magic and because of that she has some of Alastor’s powers. However, she’s the complete and total opposite of him. She’s kind and sweet like Charlie, but is very shy. She never likes bringing out her true demon form for she is very terrifying. Alastor is very protective of her. Although, what if she sees Alastor get hurt by another overlord or Adam and he turns into her demon form to protect him and everyone is surprised by this and maybe even terrified of her.

OMFG. Yes! Second Alastor request in a rooowww! I love this man uncontrollably and he would be a good daddy. He’s a stag papa with his little fawn for reaaall! I love this idea, lots of loves and so much thanks for giving Hazbin Hotel more attention— or, I guess Alastor!

Father! Alastor- Hell’s Angel

Okay… Alastor wasn’t suspecting to pop a kid out of thin air when he actually wanted to pop a kid out of thin air. His magic is very powerful, no doubt but he birthed a child from solely his own powers and about 100% of his own DNA so his daughter’s features are primarily matching his own but there are some personal key differences Alastor wanted you to have to seperate yourself from him

So, you’re not a carbon copy of your dad, the Radio Demon. More just have the same deer features and red colouring

Alastor also wasn’t suspecting to have born an angel of his own. Sweet, affectionate, cheery, always smiling but smiling in a more welcoming and natural manner than her papa. He doesn’t mind it, you’re his babygirl. He loves you dearly, even after he just shat you out from literally nothing. He’s just surprised!

Well, at least Charlie loves you because you’re like… exactly what she loves and Alastor gets jealous of how well Charlie bonds with his own daughter!

Alastor has never known how to handle his own powers so when you begin manifesting voodoo dolls and portals containing all kinds of demonic beasts, he has to figure out how to get around all of it without hurting. He has a whole plan scheduled for anytime your powers trigger

Alastor’s protective, loving, clingy and carries you around a lot. He loves being able to bond with you, he likes hearing your cute deer noises when you’re trying to talk to him. He never lets you leave his sight and whilst he reframes from murder, he may just kill Vox for insulting his little fawn

Alastor now has all the full right to tell awful Dad jokes, since he is a proper Dad now. Rest in peace once again, Angel Dust

Yes. Alastor is the type to spoil his daughter. Spoil rotten, he isn’t going to stop and he isn’t sorry. He loves his little princess and no matter what, he’ll give her what she wants. If anybody dares to take what she wants from her, he’ll send them to double hell then give his babygirl extra hugs and kisses as apologises

Alastor knows, like him, you have your own full demon form and for a harmless sweetheart like yourself(that only uses your powers to help the Hotel staff). Your full form is actually terrifying and you know that, which is why you avoid it. You don’t want to scare anybody, especially not your beloved dad so you always reframe from getting too mad

Just let Papa Alastor handle anything bad. He’ll protect and care for you in the most sweet, cuddly way possible

Alastor is a lunatic, barely sane, monstrous all under a passive-aggressive, well-mannered, dapper 1930s gentleman image but when it comes to you, you’re the most healthy thing he has and he feels genuine love, care and affection for his own offspring. He only views you as his daughter, nothing else or anything exploitative. After all, he acts more like the one serving you than anything. He’ll get you whatever you want, no questions asked

Alastor wants to keep you away from threats so when Adam attacks the Hazbin Hotel. He has no choice but to leave you with Charlie. However, this didn’t last long since you knew your father was struggling when you heard his voice’s radio effect cut out. That was immediately a sign that you, not even a ten-year-old, to jump in and it caused you to rampage against Adam when you used your powers to track down and make it over to Alastor

“PRINCESS! GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW!” Alastor, despite the giant thick cut across his chest, staining his red pinstriped coat, over the white trims of his dark red lapels, yells out as loud as he can to catch his child’s attention, to get her to back off. Struggling to rise up to his feet with his tall fluffy deer-like ears pinned back. A sign of his fear, not because of seeing his babygirl in her full demon form throwing everything she has at the angel, Adam but because you’re in so much danger attacking Adam

Adam isn’t a merciful being, despite being an Angel, and the risk to your life is extremely high. Your demon form is ten times more demonic than any sinner can manifest, due to being produced by raw demonic magic, you form into a pure demonic entity

Screeching out in a menacing echoey way, entirely black and clumpy, phasing in and out like mist, shaped like a mighty Wendigo deer with literally zero resemblance to your cute little form. To you, your father’s in danger and with his cane snapped in half, his powers limited and his radio voice effect gone

You can’t just sit around in Charlie’s arms and let Alastor get killed by this psycho angel!

You have to risk everything to let Alastor escape. However, he isn’t going anywhere without you and is frantically trying to think of a way to get you away from Adam as the said holy entity keeps throwing swings after swings with his holy sharpened guitar to break off all the attacks coming from your Wendigo-style full form, letting out many strings of hateful curses at both you and Alastor. It’s clear with all the shadowy spines and green electricity shocks that you’re desperately trying to fend off the much stronger Angel to try protect your father

But if the Radio Demon himself couldn’t take on Adam for any longer than a few minutes. Of course, you don’t stand a chance, lasting half the time Alastor did. Being beaten when Adam outspeed and charged down a devestating sharp swing on your full form’s form head after you attempt to attack again. Thinking rather fast, you used your magic to cushion the blow to avoid it actually killing you

Being thrown over on the opposite end to where Alastor is and fading back into your normal demon form, a nasty big cut all down your back to the end of your fluffy deer tail, sobbing and clenching fangs

The staff watching nearby were terrified yet impressed. Impressed a child of your age and confidence was able to get that many hits on Adam and manage to guard yourself from a attack from Adam himself, getting away with merely just one cut

The Radio Demon growls frustrated and outraged at being forced to watch his child being thrown around like some doll and get even more hurt, now cornered by Adam, since it’s clear he doesn’t care to attack Alastor anymore. Thinking just as fast and getting up properly with his snapped-into-two cane in one tightening fist

Alastor phases through into the shadows in an almost melting fashion, dragging you down with him in the same shadowy engulfing manner by a single black trail travelling over to where you laid, leaving the bloodthirsty human ancestor as the victor of this fight. Needless to say, Alastor was so pissed. Pissed he lost the fight when he had managed to get many hits on Adam at the first section of the fight and pissed that said Angel dared to put his hands on his angel

At least… you’re safe now. Bleeding, hurt, crying and tired from overworking yourself whilst laid in Alastor’s arms, but you’re alive and okay. In your father’s hold and safe. Away from the Hotel and protected by the Voodoo’s shadowy magic

“You’re okay, darling… you’re okay. Papa’s got you, he’s always got you”

[artificial-transmutations]

The Last Chance!

My head was throbbing, and lights danced in front of me. Distorted music was blaring and for a moment, I felt like throwing up. When my sight cleared a bit, I could see a slim metal lectern in front of me and grabbed it to stabilize myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, the nausea subsided enough to look around. I was not alone, far from it. I was bathed in bright lights from above and from the sides, and I had to squint to be able to discern my surroundings. There were three more lecterns, arranged in a half circle, and behind that, three more people who didn't look any better than I felt.

In the middle of the circle, there was a big leather chair that was currently empty. Still, most of the lights - artificial lights, headlights - were directed at the empty chair. To all sides, behind the big island of brightness, I could see grandstands with people in the dark, producing a constant loud chattering noise. The room was huge, but had, apparently, no windows.

Even though I've never been in one, it looked a lot like a TV studio to me. The setup looked like a game show of sorts, which means the empty chair was for the host, and I was at one of the contestant's spots.

Which brought me back to the most pressing question: How the hell did I get here?

Let's see, what do I remember... I am Evan, kindergarten teacher, 32 years old, and...

Right. I wasn't very well right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, it was pretty ugly, and then, I went to a bar. I was pretty drunk, but I think I remember leaving the bar again, in the middle of the night and then...

No, total blackout. Nothing that could explain how I got into a TV studio.

I looked at the other contestants, who seemed to be in various states of confusion as well. At the front of the lecterns, I could read their names:

Right next to me, there was Victoria. She looked like a librarian, or a secretary of some sorts. Pretty unremarkable. She seemed perhaps the least uncomfortable and eyed the rest of us with sharp intelligent eyes, nodding slightly as she caught my gaze.

Then, there was Lucas. He looked like he worked as a security guard, or maybe a bouncer, but not one for an exclusive club. His face was broad and his jaw strong and adorned with a goatee, and he wore a tight t-shirt and loose cargo pants. His posture was intimidating, but his eyes were friendly, if perhaps a bit simple.

At the far end, behind the lectern was Blake. He looked a bit like a teacher or a scientist, to be honest. He was slim and tall, had a brown pony tail and wore pretty unfashionable clothes.

For the sake of completion, my own name read "Evan", as expected. I was a pretty normal guy, wearing jeans and t-shirt. I was quite average looking, neither very good nor very bad, and had a bit of a tummy. In short, a very typical guy.

When I looked up again, there was suddenly a man sitting in the chair, wearing a fancy suit, looking into the cameras with a wide smile. I was sure I had not seen him entering, which seemed strange.

Immediately, the chattering from the audience ceased, and the man, who must have been the host, began to speak. So much for trying to escape the situation before the show started.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, and all creatures! Welcome to this wonderful, bombastic, extraordinary episode of 'The last chance'! I'm your host, the magnificent Mr. Mephistolon."

There was a moment of applause and cheering from the dark grandstands, before the man continued. What an odd introduction! Being inclusive is good and all, but 'all creatures'?

"And today, we have our best contestants ever. Give me a cheer for Blake, Lucas, Victoria and Evan!"

Again, there was some applause, which was nice, but I was still confused. What kind of game show was this?

"The rules are simple! Here at 'The last chance', everything is possible. In three exciting elimination rounds, our contestants will fight for the grand mystery prize. You, the audience will vote after each round who you like the least, and the one with the most votes has to leave, never to be seen again."

I decided I didn't like the humor of the host very much, but the explanation continued.

"Whoever survives the third round is the winner of tonight's show! They will receive the grand mystery prize"

He held up a sealed red envelope.

"And, of course, gets to go home."

It would probably have been funnier if I remembered how I got here. The charming host made it sound like we were kidnapped, but that was hardly possible, not on live TV. So, it was probably just a joke.

"But! How can you sway the audience to not vote you out, you ask? What is the game, you want to know? It's easy! In each round, each and every one of you gets a spin on our wheel of fortune. In addition, you will be dealt three cards. In every round, you must use whatever the wheel shows and one of your cards to *change* yourself and one other contestant of your choice. It doesn't matter who you choose for what, as long as one change applies to yourself and one to another one. And remember: All changes are always permanent!"

The host chuckled as if his last statement was especially funny. I didn't quite understand what 'changes' he meant, but the rest was pretty clear.

As soon as the host finished explaining, a gorgeous woman with a long flowing dress and a big deck of cards approached us. Her eyes sparkled, and her skin was smooth, and the long dress made it look like she had a tail under it. She gave every one of us contestants three cards. Mine read "Masculine", with a big blue mars symbol on it, "Submissive", depicting a figure looking down at their feet, and "Chubby", a pink pudgy figure.

After we had a moment to look at our cards, the host spoke up again.

"And without further ado, let's get started! This round begins with..."

The drum rolls in the background sounded very stereotypical.

"Victoria! Ladies first!"

With a fanfare, a big wheel of fortune was unveiled, and set into motion with one swift motion from Mr. Mephistolon. I couldn't make out what the labels on the wheel said until it slowed down and landed on the symbol of a large eggplant. It read "hung".

It had to be one of these late-night game shows with a sexual edge to it. I didn't feel very comfortable.

"Alright, Victoria! The wheel shows 'hung'. You need to choose one of your cards, and then apply both changes, one to you, and one to another contestant!"

The woman studied her cards carefully before choosing one. She held it up and smiled.

"Okay. I pick this card here for myself. It says: 'Big-Chested'. And I'll apply 'hung' to..."

She looked around her three male contestants before finally settling on me. "Evan!"

"Alright, a good choice, Victoria! Remember, the changes will apply after everyone has chosen. Let's continue with Lucas!"

The wheel spun and landed on the picture of a pink, hairless arm, which said "Smooth".

Lucas had looked into his cards up until here and scratched his head.

"Okay, so we're supposed to be nice to each other, right? Okay, so, I... Can I give both to the other guys?"

"I'm sorry Lucas, but the rules are that you have to change yourself as well!" The host smiled with endless professional patience.

"Oh, okay." The guy really wasn't all too bright.

"Then... I take 'smooth' for myself and give Victoria my 'Slim'. That works, right?"

"Yes, Lucas, that's possible! Great job!" The host cheered before looking at Blake and spinning the wheel. It finally settled on "Nerdy", adorned with a pair of glasses.

Blake's eyes darted between his cards and the rest of us. Finally, he decided.

"Okay, I don't think we're supposed to be nice to each other, here. At least, I only have rather negative cards. Since I have to play one on myself, I choose 'Dominant'". He held up a card showing a figure with held up high head and a broad stance.

"And the 'nerdy' from the wheel goes to... Lucas."

The audience murmured and the host nodded approvingly.

"It seems like you have understood pretty quickly! Alright! Let's get to our last one for this round. Evan!"

He set the wheel in motion, and I watched until it stopped at the picture of a broad chest, reading 'muscular'. I looked down on my cards. So, even if I didn't understand the whole 'change' part, it was obvious I should give positive things to myself and negative things to other people. The wheel showed 'muscular', which was obviously positive, and 'masculine' in my hand was positive as well. So, I needed to choose between 'submissive' and 'chubby'. The thought of the big bouncer having the 'submissive' card was pretty hilarious, so I decided on that.

"I'll take 'muscular' for myself and give my 'submissive' to Lucas." I announce.

"Great choices, all around. Alright. So, we get to the changes! Victoria, you got 'Big-Chested' from yourself, and 'slim' from Lucas. Let's see how you look like!"

Whatever I expected, it was not that. Before my very eyes, Victoria's modest breasts swelled until her blouse was bursting. Her body lost any excess fat, and her hips became narrower as well, forming a perfect hourglass shape. If I had been straight, I would have surely started to drool.

"Very nice! Now, let's see the guys. Lucas! You have your own 'smooth', and Blake's 'nerdy' as well as Evan's 'submissive'. Quite a lot, if you ask me!"

As expected, Lucas lost all body hair, except his head and face. Then, his eyebrows thinned out and his nose grew a bit more pronounced. I thought I heard the word 'sissy' being called from the audience. A thick pair of glasses snapped into existence, and his clothing shifted to an awkward, nerdy look. And something seemed to happen behind his eyes. Where before, he looked the host in the eye, he suddenly looked at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, master." He muttered.

"What was that, Lucas?" The host asked, smiling.

"I'm sorry, Master. I don't deserve to look into your eyes." Laughter from the audience.

Lucas was still pretty broad, but his new posture and clothing veiled that pretty well. He looked pathetic all in all.

"Alright, Lucas. Let's switch to Blake. Here, we have your own 'Dominant' and... That’s it! Your antagonists decided to go easy on you, as it seems."

The shift in Blake's demeanor was subtle. His body stayed the same, but his posture changed, as he spread his legs a bit wider and raised his shoulders. His facial expression shifted, and I was sure to see traces of cruelty or arrogance in it, now.

"Aaand, finally. Evan. 'Muscular' from yourself and 'hung' from Victoria. Seems like the other contestants like you, Evan!"

Victoria, the new, busty, Victoria leaned over and smiled as she whispered: "You're welcome."

Suddenly, my body felt tingly and weird all over. I watched in a mix of amazement and horror, as my muscles grew all over the place, quickly filling out my clothes that shifted subtly to make way for the new bulges.

The crowd cheered, and I looked at them for a moment. Then, I was distracted by a feeling in my groin. It took all my self-control not to check with my hands, but I could clearly see the bulge of my cock grow in my pants. I wasn't getting hard - although the feeling was pretty erotic - but my dick was just quickly gaining size, until the bulge was clearly visible through my pants now. I could even see the soft rod hanging down one leg and make out the shape of my balls. With my head red, I stepped closer to the lectern.

"That's all changes for round 1!" The host announced. "And it's time to say goodbye to one of our contestants now. Please, cast your vote."

While the audience voted, I looked around. Busty Victoria was probably pretty safe, as was I - I didn't have a mirror, but I must have looked pretty good. If the audience voted by looks - which I suspected - then it would either hit Blake or Lucas. Since Blake had changed the least, he was probably the most boring one, so I suspected he would be voted out.

It was Lucas, by a small margin.

"Well, then, Lucas! Here goes your 'Last Chance'!" The host smiled, a smile I would describe as cruel, and all of a sudden, a flame shot up where Lucas had been standing just a few moments ago. When the flame was gone, so was Lucas. Wow. That was either a pretty cool special effect or... No, it was a special effect.

As the host turned to Victoria again, I got the feeling this game show was more serious than I thought.

The wheel stopped at the word 'needy'. Victoria looked into her cards and whispered to me: "Let's work together this round."

Since the spot next to her was empty, I was the only one she could whisper to, even though I must have been the bigger threat in her eyes. Her plan was to concentrate on Blake this round and then eliminate me in the next.

"I give 'Needy' to Blake, and I'll take..." She flashed a smile to the audience. "'Big Behind'" The card showed the rather unsubtle outline of a large ass. Victoria was *dangerous*. She had adapted lightning fast and knew how to manipulate the audience.

Blake looked at her with contempt, possibly due to his new dominant demeanor, until the wheel stopped in front of him. It showed a naked male chest, heavily adorned with tattoos.

"Oookay. I take 'Tattooed' from the wheel for myself, and I play this card on Evan."

My heart sunk as he produced a card showing a naked figure that read 'Exhibitionistic'. Crap. The smile in Blake's face was cold. He, too, was dangerous. And from his announcement in the first round, I knew he had more negative cards in his hand.

"So, Evan, take your pick."

I hadn't even realized that the wheel had already stopped, and I looked at it quickly. It showed a pelt of hair on a breast and read 'hairy'. I quickly looked down on my cards. I had 'masculine' and 'chubby'. It was probably a good idea to keep chubby for the last round, so I had to play 'masculine'. The apparent solution was to play it on myself and give 'hairy' to Blake, if I wanted to do what Victoria suggested. However, hairy probably wouldn't hurt Blake much, and neither would 'masculine'. I could sacrifice my 'chubby', but then I'd probably lose the next round for sure. I pondered. No, Victoria was more dangerous. I could play 'hairy' on her... But wait! She was slim and busty, and she was about to give herself a big ass. Combined with hairy, that would be strange, but what if I took out her feminine advantage?

"I take 'hairy' for myself." I began. It didn't make much difference if I was hairy or not. "And I play 'masculine' on Victoria."

The audience went crazy as Victoria's transformation began. Her ass ballooned out, making her even more beautiful by heterosexual standards for a second. But that changed when her body shifted and crossed the gender boundary quickly. A bulge formed both in her throat and in her groin, and her clothes shifted to a masculine style. However, just as I had planned, she still had the other traits. Her - no, his - chest formed decidedly male but rather big man-tits, and his ass was fat. The rest of him, however, including the arms and legs, were thin and slim, looking decidedly grotesque on his male frame.

"I guess we should call you 'Victor' now" smiled the host before the attention shifted towards Blake.

"Let's see how Blake looks after his new changes: 'Tattooed' and 'Needy'".

Blake's skin quickly filled with ink, giving the man an even more dangerous aura. For a moment, I was afraid that Blake would get a stronger position due to his changes, but then, a loud moan came out of his mouth.

"Please! I need someone to..." he was confused as hell, I could see that, as his dominant and his needy side came to a weird compromise.

"... to order to fuck my hole. Please!"

The audience erupted in laughter, and even the host had to smile. It was pitiful.

"And now for Evan."

Crap, what were my changes again? I had completely forgotten that I was being changed as well.

"Let's give you... 'hairy' and 'exhibitionistic'!"

Fuck, and it was all negative. I looked down on my muscular body and I could see body hair growing in, all over my exposed arms and legs, even some in my face. However, the worst was yet to come.

My mind was filled with an overwhelming need. I *had* to show off my body. I *had* to put it on display for everyone to see. Accompanied by the laughter of the audience, I pulled off my shirt and exposed my furry, muscular chest for everyone to see. It felt good, but I wasn't finished. Next, the shoes, socks and pants came off. My underwear was filled to the brim with my large cock, and a thick bush of hair erupted from it as well. And my underwear got even tighter as I felt the rush of satisfaction it gave me to expose myself like that. I could stop now, I probably had enough self-control. However, I hesitated. It was all about the audience vote, right? Perhaps I had better chances if I played the role, to the end. So, I hooked both my thumbs into my strained boxer shorts and, with a quick motion, pulled them off, freeing the absolute python of my semi-hard cock. I even took a few steps back from my lectern, so everyone could see me in all of my hairy, muscular glory.

The audience went wild. With some satisfaction, I noticed that almost no one voted me out. Instead, most of the votes fell on Blake.

"So long, Blake!" said the host, and Blake, too, disappeared in a sudden flame.

"Seems like it's just Victor and Evan left. Let's see who survives this round and takes the grand mystery prize home! Let me spin the wheel for Victor!"

The wheel slowed down on the sweaty face emoticon. However, it didn't read 'sweaty', but instead 'horny'. Victor smiled and shot me an apologetic look.

"Sorry, big guy, but that's it for you. Let's see how needy you get. I choose 'horny' for Evan and for me... 'Charming'". The new man produced his last card, which showed a handsome prince. Crap. That was a good combination.

I looked down at my 'chubby' card, and only as the wheel stopped, I realized my mistake. I had kept the strongest negative card until the end, but I didn't anticipate that the wheel might *also* show something negative. I stared at the head-scratching figure on the wheel and the word below that. 'Dumb'. Shit.

What were my options? I could give myself chubby and Victor dumb. Perhaps, hopefully, chubby wouldn't look too bad on my muscled body, but it hardly mattered if Victor was dumb or not. Charme worked regardless of intelligence.

Then again, I could give Victor 'chubby', which would probably work well in making him even less attractive and grotesque. But that would mean I'd have to take 'dumb'. And all changes were permanent, the host had said so.

I thought back to the flame effect that had consumed Blake and Lucas. No, I had to win this, no matter the cost.

I forced a smile for the audience. "Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm big all over already, and hairy and naked. So, I'll gladly take the 'dumb' - make me a real himbo!"

I didn't want to be 'a real himbo', for sure, but it might still be better than the alternative. And it would fit into the 'horny' I was about to get.

"And Victor gets my last card: 'Chubby'!"

His eyes went wide, as he suddenly wasn't so sure of his victory anymore. And really, he immediately began to change. His thin body got softer and rounder, especially his stomach and butt. Even his man-tits grew even larger. However, at the same time, his face grew a well-groomed beard, and his eyes got a sparkle to it. Even though his form was bloated, he still looked nice enough. Fuck.

Then, all eyes went to me. I closed my eyes as Mr. Mephistolon announced my changes. 'Dumb' and 'Horny'. No bodily changes, thankfully. My body was still glorious and on full display. The first effect I felt was in my groin again. I grew hot and flustered, and my previously semi-hard cock quickly expanded into its full length, hard and throbbing, pointing directly ahead. That wasn't bad, I had to admit. As I was leaking precum on the floor, I enjoyed the attention of my body on display like that, and there was certainly a lot to see. But the next change hit my mind. My thoughts felt sluggish and slow. It was as if the gears in my head were covered in syrup or mud. Or that other thing, what was it... Cum, right. I had to grin dumbly. Yeah, my thoughts were slow as if they went through cum. That thought amused me and distracted me for longer than I would have been comfortable to admit before. But now, I just didn't care. When I opened my eyes again, all higher intellect was gone, and I was just happy for all the attention and was feeling horny. Well, I was always feeling horny, right? Automatically, my large right hand gripped my fuckstick and I started to slowly stroke it, while smearing precum into the pelt on my chest with the left one. The audience cheered.

"Alright, here are the final votes!", the host announced, ripping my attention momentarily from my own body.

"It seems like, with a *very* narrow margin, Victor has lost this round."

I looked at him quizzically. Was that good?

"That means Evan wins tonight's show!"

The audience went wild and clapped, and I felt happy. Apparently, I had done something right!

"Congratulations, Evan! Now, let's see what tonight's grand mystery prize is."

With a big gesture, the host opened the envelope and read out the contents.

"The winner - that's you, Evan - gets to transform the host freely, to his liking. Now that's something we haven't seen in this show for a long time!"

Even though that meant I was allowed to change him to my whim, Mr. Mephistolon didn't seem unhappy. Instead, he licked his lips.

"Go on then, Evan! What do you want to change about me?"

"Uhhh..."

I thought hard about it.

"Make you... Make you big. Big and... strong. But not as strong as me. More like lean, but sturdy. I still want to be the one to fuck you. And... uh, make you... Make you have big dick and big balls."

I was a bit confused about the last two points. My mind had trouble thinking, but I also had a big dick and big balls, and those were good, right? So, I wanted them for him, too.

"Alright, let's see what Evan gets."

I watched curiously as Mr. Mephistolon slowly began to change.

He gained muscles, but nothing like I had. He stayed rather thin, but his arms, chest and abs looked very nice. His feet grew, and lean muscle set in, making him able to withstand a lot of force when I would pound his hole, later. I could hardly wait and was stroking my cock again.

As expected, his cock and balls swelled, and grew hairy. He was not as hung as me, but that was probably good. After all, he wouldn't really need his cock, his ass was the important part.

After his transformation was finished, I saw him look at his new body and his cock, and then into the crowd, before his eyes landed on me.

"Well then, that's all for tonight, folks! I guess I'm going home with Evan now!"

And with the last round of applause, our surroundings shifted until I was in my apartment again. Still the same bull of a man, with my target right in front of me. I licked my lips as I approached the host. I would fuck him silly, that's for sure.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 29/10✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@xyuki-iris ha chiesto: I LOVE YOU'RE ART ALSO GOOD FOOD But I have a what if What if Redson found Mk having a panic attack over something serious about him being Trans.

Ouch poor baby Red Son would totally support MK and try to calm him down

@ashmeertheimp ha chiesto: First of all your story is glorious and congrats on getting lmk at the very top. Second does Mk want to work on his relationship with Nuwa. I think Nuwa did truly love Mk but she also loved everyone else on earth equally. Mk has forgiven Mac who actually made an effort to hurt Mk (past mistakes) while Nuwa was opposed but still didn't stop Mk from not fixing the pillar of heaven.

I always felt like after S5 his relationship with Nuwa is similar to the one Steven had with Rose after S5 of SU. So it's- complicated

@audioandart ha chiesto: mayhaps a silly question, but towards the very start of the mk shadow peach stuff when mk first shadows into the wall. He says "why is everything *more* flat". Is this implying he already sees the world as 2d the way we do or am I perhaps missing something? 😅 (I love your work! Have a good day 🫰)

ahah yeah I was!!

@fake-anjel ha chiesto: Your comic makes me stay awake at night thinking of the next cap, making theories and making imaginary scenarios and imaginary gacha reactions to them for some reason. I was wondering... If Wukong and Macaque have a child (hypothetically, and by the biological way) wich one would be the oven for the bun? You have a fan from Brazil<3

Well, I would say Wukong, but here comes the question: a Stone Monkey, born from a stone, would be able to reproduce themself? There are no other like the four celestial primates and MK, so I would assume that they weren't able to- reproduce normally. Also if they would does it mean the womb is a stone as well???

@sollythesalt ha chiesto: Just asking if Wukong is trans do his female organs also count as part of his un-glamored form or does he stay with his male ones when he drops his glamour? Also what does his glamour include in your au just out of curiosity?

No under the glamour and shapeshift he still has female organs

@dandy-doodles ha chiesto: I'm VICIOUSLY consuming your comic rn - It actually came across my feed from a reblog. Never watched the show before. Loved the comic so much I binged the entire series and now I'm sat with the task of reading JTTW. This hyperfixation is your fault I love you for it. @ivoronical ha chiesto: Hi! I don’t know how tumblrs asks work because I’ve never used them before, but just wanted to say that your art is ✨fabulous✨ and you’re shadowpeach bio parents au has convinced me to rewatch the show entirely. It’s also made Macaque one of my favorite characters and because of that I am halfway through making a cosplay of him completely from scratch and I’m very excited to finish it:) Anyways I’ve rambled enough. Have a nice day!!! @starzz-twi ha chiesto: Can I just say how much I adore your art! It inspires so much that I might try drawing lmk again 🫶🫶🫶🫶 @artemismoorea03 ha chiesto: I hope you know that your Bio Parents AU fills every waking moment. I swear I only get on Tumblr anymore to see if you've posted something. I eat up any art you post regardless of what fandom it is and I just have to tell you that your art tastes like a blue raspberry icee (the best kind). I hope you're having a fantastic day ♡

AWWW TYSM TO ALL OF YOU!!!!

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto: What will family gatherings be like now that MK has 4 parents? Like his birthday or end-of-year celebrations. I want to see more of the dynamics of the 4 parents interacting and talking about their one and only child.🐷🤓☀️🌙

oH CHAOTIC INDEED

Anonimo ha chiesto: How does it feel to be one of those artists that like 70% of the fandom knows about

wait is that a random number or???

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will we maybe see Macaque interact with Bai He or Mei?? (I'm starved of DarkHorse/EnderDragon/NightFlare Duo and Raspberry/Black Cat Duo) But I am interested if you might make them interact! :D Anyways, I love how your art got better by each comic, you can see the improvement from the slight sharpness of the shapes in the first comics and the now softer lines.

mmmmm I will maybe I'll do some small scenes

Anonimo ha chiesto: Past Wukong working out: I'ma get so strong. Ain't no one beating me Present Wukong working out: I'ma be so good at hugging my son and husband.

AWWWWWW WHAT A GOOD BABA!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hello! I wanted to ask if we'll see just how sensitive Macaque's hearing is in your Au in a future comic maybe? Like... a thunderstorm happens or something when he's around FFM watching Mk and Wukong train or something that affects his hearing badly? But either way, love your art and style! :)

mmmm don't know if I have a scene planned for that...

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does Wukong and Macaque know about the other 2 Celstial Primates, Red-Hoarse Baboon and Lomg-Armed Gibbon, in your Bio Shadowpeach parents au?

I think so? In JTTW he knew so I would assume the same?

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will Macaque use his future vision at any time again in this comic? We now know in this Au he hasn't used it in years. But maybe will he use it again soon? I bet he won't but I still wanted to ask :)

not unless he is forced to

Anonimo ha chiesto: I’ve been listening to a song from a Pokémon movie: Always Safe by Cynthia, and I think of the Shadowpeach bioparents Au everytime

AWW that's beautiful the lyrics omg!!!

@notjustonefandom1 ha chiesto: So, I've been thinking about MK's staff. After he got it do you think he develops a habit of clasping his hands together, especiallywhen stressed or threatened? With the fluidity and energy he moves with, I think it would take a while for him yo find a chance to Summon the staff, especially if he isn't fast at it yet, so he just starts keeping his hands pressed together in preparation.

ooooohhh that's a cool idea!

Anonimo ha chiesto: Where does the Macaque has white fur head canon come from? I'm new to this fandom and I'm still learning things and I see it everywhere

I honestly have no idea but I guess either because Japanese Macaque are white furred or bc he died.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Ok so this may be a sensitive topic and definitely doesn't need to be answered so TW Did mk ever go through a depression thing after trying to die to save the universe in the last season in your au? A in like what if Wukong and Mac find out he used to SH?

hish. I'm not probably the right person to answer this. Probably he did had depression tendencies but didn't recognize them until someone pointed them out.

Anonimo ha chiesto: This ask os Going to be a little weird But Can I See Macaque Pining Wukong on the wall?In a Flirty way?(pretty Please?) I love Your Art so much!👑❤️‍🔥💎

Ouh.. *cleans forehead from sweat* is getting hot in here... maybe?

@autism-autobot ha chiesto: Wukong: OH BUDDHA, HE CALLED ME BABA!!!!! (SCREAMS WITH JOY) What DBK heard over the phone with his brother: OH andhdbrjjsm (feral monkey screeching)

Poor DBK gotta deal with the gossip now

@alastair-1205 ha chiesto: OMG THE MOST RECENT PART IM CRYING But I also love how Mac's first instinct is just grabbing Wukong and being like: "get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of hearing range before we freak out, get out of-" you know? It's very funny but also builds on past comics since they woke MK up last time smth like this happened and I'm just !!!!!

GOTTA MAKE THE BABY SLEEP

@eerieqloss ha chiesto: OSISJJWJSJSJWWN OKAY WAIT SO IS MK GONNA START CALLING THEM MAMA AND BABA INSTEAD OF THEIR NAMES CONTINUALLY OR WAS IT JUST THAT ONE TIME

It wont be a one time!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I hope you are resting as you should Always remember to take your time, rest first, then work, ofc as far as possible 😅. I have a fun question (if you have the time ofc 👉🏻👈🏻): will we see Feral MK again? But you know, like another kind of "demonic learning" that maybe wukong or Mac will teach him to control or see that it's not bad as it looks

For now i want my baby to either be happy or traumatized not angry.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like i remember you asking about happier shadowpeach songs for your playlist, but I can't find the post anymore. But if you're still looking, Livingston's new song Glow reminds me of them and also made me think about the eclipse scenes in the comic.

Several of Livingston's other songs also give me shadowpeach vibes, but I think about them so much that I might just be seeing them everywhere at this point.

Oooh true a lot of his song fits really well!!

Anonimo ha chiesto: This is the only instance where having a kid really did bring a couple together.

TRUE LMAO

Anonimo ha chiesto: Soo...Wukong and Mac in the DBK Palace I have a question in my mind!!!! Actually I hope you to see it and draw it.. if you don't wanna it's okay! What if DBK & PIF flirt with each other or smt like this u know in front of shadowpeach?! They will probably look to each other and then blushing hard

HAHAHHA poor souls they would totally think of wanting to kiss each other but can't because they are emotionally constipated.

[kedsandtubesocks]

cosmic love

Marcus Acacius x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

summary: a missing statue, a handsome ancient roman general, an equally handsome museum visitor - and you caught in the magical (and wonderful) mess of it all

tags & warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, MAJOR GLADIATOR 2 SPOILERS. time travel AU, magic elements, pining & yearning, fluff but with touches of angst, implied age gap (Acacius being older than both reader & Marcus), light use of gendered language, bi!Marcus Acacius & bi!Marcus Pike, brief mention of death & existential questioning, spicy themes, smut (threesome, m!oral, one moment of spitting) M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship, no use of y/n

word count: 7.5k

a/n: I’m sorry I blame the gladiator statue pics we got & yeah now here we are lmao, this fic literally wouldn’t be here without @pedgito & @perotovar - i can’t thank you two enough for all the help i love y’all tremendously, also a sweet special tag for @morallyinept ily too… And lastly - thank you for reading, you’re what makes this so special and magical ♡

The statue that arrived with the newly updated Roman exhibition at your museum has gained attention.

As a guide you enjoy seeing all the new faces here to check out the freshly opened installation. The heightened foot traffic has kept you and your co-workers busy, but it’s been a nice welcome.

Your eyes drift to the statue now.

General Marcus Acacius stands slightly weathered yet still commanding in his bronze glory, towering among the room with all the grace a powerful Roman Army commander would be.

You learned he conquered countless territories and countries in the name of the Ancient Roman Empire. Eventually though, he was caught in a conspiracy to overthrow the ruling emperors and died within the eyes of the coliseum, the whisper of a gladiator’s death.

Now you readily explain this all to tour groups like the one you currently guide.

“Oh, he’s cute.” One of the elementary school girls currently giggles to her friend. The other school children gasp around her, teasing her.

“It’s okay. He is pretty handsome, isn’t he?” You reassure her. The girl seems bashful but relieved at your agreement.

It wasn’t just you. A local internet influencer stopped by and even made a video about the statue being her dream guy.

Even as a statue, the General is eye-catching.

The bronze figure captured his likeness bewitchingly detailing the soft curls of his hair, a lovely sharp nose, mountainous strong broad shoulders, and a pensive stare looking out to a distant horizon. He’s a man of unwavering beauty.

You constantly want to smack yourself for being wistful over a piece of art.

“He’s definitely the most attractive statue I’ve seen.” A familiar smooth sweet voice melts into the room’s quiet softness making your heart jump.

Approaching you with a molten smile and eyes twinkling in the low museum lights, Marcus doesn’t seem real at times.

A regular visitor, you first met him when he accidentally crashed one of your tours. Wholesomely thoughtful, but also being a charming yet slightly know it all, he was quick to join in on commentary of the paintings. With his Disney prince-like smile and earnest eager energy, you couldn’t dare shoo him away.

Now you happily seek his company.

“He’s become like a hot new celebrity here.” Joking, you nudge towards the General’s striking figure.

“I can see why.” Marcus whistles low. “Like look at those shoulders.”

You snicker as a bubbling fondness swells in you.

“He unfortunately died a tragic death.” Marcus comments, cloudy and mournful.

“Yeah, I heard. That means this guy is a bad boy.” You nod.

Marcus snickers at your comment then playfully nudges you with his elbow.

Later, all your co-workers beg you to ask him out to coffee.

“He’s totally got the hots for you!” Your favorite co worker often tells you, but you wave her off.

Marcus is just sweet. He’s kind and considerate, engaging to all the workers here. Besides, you don’t want to assume he possibly likes you and maybe ruin the precious friendship you have with him.

However, your favorite coworker shows up a few days later with a solution for your stale love life.

With a cheeky bright grin, she hands you the cutest pink velvet pouch in the break room.

“It’s called a love wish tea.” She declares.

She grabbed a pack of them at the local occult shop after the lovely witch who owned the place swore it worked.

“It calls in your heart’s desires and hey, it worked for me! That’s why I still have a pack left over!” She proudly recommends.

You roll your eyes but appreciate the gift.

Shoving it into your bag, you don’t give it much thought.

Then the cooler cozier weather settles in, the perfect time for museum dates. Strolling along the floors keeping a watch on everyone it’s hard not to notice the intake of couples. Some are intertwined beside each other staring fondly at a painting together, while others happily take photos of the other being silly.

A taste of loneliness fills you, but gently you sweep it away focusing back on work. Especially since tonight you’ll be locking up.

Already craving some extra caffeine, you glare seeing the break room depleted of any sweet salvation.

The small velvet pink bag in your bag immediately comes to mind. And at this point you think, why not. it will at least keep you awake.

Immediately out of the pouch the tea bag releases a soothing smell, a rich floral blending with delicate touches of a fruit scent, possibly pomegranate. You’re now excited just to taste it, love wish or not.

The tea steeps in your tumbler cup allowing a faint rose color to float into your water. Of course the tea is pretty too.

And the taste? Rich, lovely and warm, like a romantic valentine-like themed drink. It doesn’t reward you with a sensation of being in love, but instead you feel at peace.

After a few sips, you return to the floor.

There, Marcus sits on one of the benches in the Roman exhibition.

Curled over a leather sketchbook, he’s every bit the personification of a scholarly beautiful artist straight out of a romance novel. His face glanced up then back down to his sketch. Diligent concentration paints over his gorgeous face.

Cautious, yet eager, you approach.

He’s sketching a portrait of the General. The sharp edges of the charcoal, the smudges meant to mimic shadows, along with capturing the striking slopes of the General’s features - it’s fantastic.

“You’re amazing!”

Your compliment causes him to jolt slightly spooked, and you rapidly apologize. Once he catches sight of you, Marcus sighs with a dreamy relieved sleepy grin.

“Just sketching, nothing too crazy.”

You take a seat besides him on the bench.

“You captured his likeness so well already.” You’re in awe at the sketch.

Marcus laughs a bit nervously. It’s hard trying not to swoon at the light rose blush coloring his cheeks. He’s stunning.

“I bet General Acacius would be flattered.” You grin then glance back to the statue.

Marcus turns to follow your sight.

“Nah, he strikes me as a big relief fan.” Marcus comments thoughtfully.

The bad art joke isn’t lost on you, and you snicker beside him. Among the giggles you catch Marcus staring at you, the softest boyish grin tugging his lips.

The world melts into a splendid focus all on him.

This isn’t good. You can’t be thinking about possibly leaning in to kiss cute visitors while you’re still on the clock.

“Hey… so I’ve been meaning to ask if maybe we could-”

His phone ringing cuts Marcus off causing you to shoot up from the bench. Jumping on the call, Marcus seems apologetic and almost sad as you wave him bye to him.

Closing time approaches. You and your co-workers do one final look around the rooms. Marcus is nowhere to be found.

The Roman exhibition now sits sleepily still.

The dim glow coats the general’s statue, a glistening chopper. Even with the chips and weathering of time, he stands glorious as you stroll closer.

He really must have been something fierce for the empire to immortalize him in such grand fashion.

“You must’ve been a pretty amazing man.” You mutter mainly to yourself, gently touching the base of the elevated display platform he rests upon.

You wish him a good night and head home. You try not to think of stunning statues or cute museum visitors.

Next morning you’re woken up by a call from work, a frantic one.

“The fucking hot ass statue is missing.” Your co-worker hisses.

You don’t believe it till you see it.

But you’re knocked breathless at the sight.

General Marcus Acacius is missing. The once grand presence he added to the room is absent, vanished, as if plucked from the air itself.

It’s almost unnerving to see the once elevated space now hauntingly vacant.

Chaos brews humming all around. Copes scurry around everywhere, and plenty of people stand outside curious to what’s going on. A controlled whirlwind fills your museum. Various officers keep the scene roped off.

The museum decides to close for the rest of the week to let the police handle as much as they can. You adore the museum truly, but there’s one spot you love the most. Right by the break room leading from various different doors is an outdoor courtyard. It’s become a place of solace.

The bubbling dread has you stepping out here one more time. The sky above looms with a cold front approaching and casts a somber shadow over the space even more.

The shrubs rustle off the side among the thick greenery, and you figure it’s a bird.

“It’s you.” Until a new voice speaks to you. Rich, heavily accented and smooth, it startles you.

You wonder if you’re imagining things.

The man is dressed in Roman attire, elaborate white armor adorned with ornate gold pieces. Glorious graying curls frame his ethereal aged face.

How did a cosplayer manage to sneak in?

He stares so directly at you it frightens you a bit.

“You’re the one who’s voice I heard…” he continues to speak. “It was like I was asleep, drifting away. Then you woke me.”

“Sir, how did you manage to get in here?” You ask, trying to stay as calm as you can.

“I do not know. I simply woke and found myself in this strange place.” He explains with a furrowed brow.

You wonder…is this a strange bit the museum is maybe trying to pull off, and they didn’t tell you.

He steps forward now, and instinctively you walk back cautious. The man must take in your reaction because his face, his handsome face that now looks vaguely familiar, frowns. He holds his hands up defensively.

“I mean no harm. I just need to know what happened to me.”

Someone calls out your name, sounds like your boss. “Come on let’s head out.”

The stranger repeats it and how smooth his voice is, your name rolls off his tongue.

��I am General Marcus Acacius, and I am in need of your assistance.”

That makes your brain scratch.

“Wait, what?” You turn to him confused. “What did you say your name was again?”

He repeats it firmer.

Marcus Acacius.

As in… General Marcus Acacius.

There’s no way.

“Oh, so you’re an actor.” You deadpan.

“I…am confused? I’m no performer. I promise you that.” He almost sounds huffy.

You gotta give him credit. The guy stays in character pretty well.

“You shouldn’t be here, actor or not.” You tell him, heading back inside. Of course this man follows you in.

At the sight of the glass door and the movement of it, he pauses stunned, like he can’t process it. You almost want to laugh.

“You’re pretty good, even though you say you’re not an actor.” You tease.

He frowns hard not enjoying that.

“Either tell me what is going on or I will find a man who will.” He snaps loud and your eyes go wide.

His memorizing face scrunches up in frustration. Dark amber eyes are coated in fierce anger.

“I wake up in a strange place filled with artifacts and see people dressed strange. What is going on?” His voice rises confused, panicking.

Either he’s the most amazing actor ever or…

No.

It can’t be.

Too many thoughts swirl in your head like angry bees trying to make your brain explode.

You need a minute. So you grab the mystery man’s arm, practically dragging him to follow you.

“Excuse you? Where are you taking me?” He demands.

“Somewhere safe.” You half lie.

Unfortunately your boss stops you. His worried eyes catch sight of the man in the armor. You’re quick to explain he’s an actor, upset about the missing statue.

“I am not a-”

You shush the strange man harshly. Your boss, hesitant and worried, surveys him.

“He shouldn’t be here.” Your boss says firm.

“Yup, and I was just showing him the way out.” You happily explain.

Thankfully your boss gets called away, and you make your escape.

“Are you abducting me?” He demands harder.

“Look, I’m the only one here who might be able to help you.” You hiss back.

“I am the commanding General of the Roman armies.” His voice blooms stronger when you reach the lobby. “I will find my way around.”

You swallow hard. A small but chaotic idea quickly jumps into your mind, and you decide to put it into action.

So, you hold the exit door open for him. The man nods to you, then strolls out. You follow him.

The towering skyscrapers, the rush of the cars, the stretching concrete roads, it becomes an overwhelming sight while the man whips his face around eyes wide and in shock. His face falls, aghast and disoriented.

That unrealistic conclusion you thought of - you think it might not be so realistic. Because the man turns to you wearing petrified horror, terrified confusion of a man in an unknown world that no actor could truly capture.

Reality smacks into you like a bag of nails.

This man is truly the great General Marcus Acacius.

The missing statue now full man summoned to life.

Someone yells your name.

Your heart drops. Of course Marcus arrives at the worst time. He jogs up to you dressed in what looks like a gym outfit.

“I heard about the statue.” He says worried then his eyes immediately grow cloudy and confused as he catches sight of the strange Roman dressed man.

“Is he… a friend of yours?” Marcus asks hesitantly.

“It’s complicated.” You blurt, panicked.

General Acacius stands still very stunned trying to take this new modern world in. Stumbling, he returns to your side, clutching your arm like you’re the only one who can steady him.

“I…” Acacius begins then stops mid word, still trying to process a reply. Until he catches sight of Marcus.

“You,” The man surveys Marcus with narrowing eyes. “You seem familiar as well.”

This is getting out of hand.

“Okay time to go.” You rapidly try diffusing the situation, moving General Acacius away from Marcus.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Marcus questions, persistently following behind while you head to the parking lot.

You scramble out a lie that the strange man is an old friend you ran into who just came back from a play.

“I told you, I’m no performer.” Acacius insists still. You also discover he’s built like a wall and trying to wrangle him into the car proves to be Herculean.

Swiftly, Marcus firmly snaps out your name. His tone is different, urgent and enforcing. It turns you into a statue yourself.

Comedically, you’re practically halfway shoving Acacius into the car but now stand frozen. He notices the shift in tension quickly.

“Are you frightened of him?” Acacius mutters concern, surprisingly concerned. “Because I can dispose of this man.”

You shake your head no.

Swallowing hard, you finally look Marcus dead in the eyes.

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” You admit.

“Try me.” Marcus rebuffs, serious as steel.

So you sigh, what more do you have to lose now?

“General, can you please tell him who you are.” You then allow Acacius to speak for himself.

The ancient Roman clears his throat and announces his full title and name. The younger and modern Marcus’s face twists confused with a hint of concern.

Suddenly his eyes go wide. He catches on fast, figures it out quicker than you did that’s for sure.

This cute casual museum visitor you have a slight crush on is now your accomplice and partner in crime.

At least…now you don't have to deal with an ancient Roman General being brought back to life from stone alone.

— °˖➴ —

Marcus’s apartment is lush and cozy, filled with so many books and records. The warm walls, sleek modern design, make your place feel like a hole in the wall. Having a roommate, you couldn’t just bring home a very confused man out of time. So thankfully Marcus offered his home.

Now you’ve practically been living here with General Acacius trying to figure out what happened.

Acacius takes things rather well, almost in stride. Fitting for a general that explored new territories and had to face the unknown chaos of war.

The fridge fascinates him the most. You had to stop yourself from laughing seeing him open and close the refrigerator door like a child wondering if the food inside would disappear.

Marcus has a vice for candy, specifically sour ones. Seeing General Acacius try one and the disgusted face of twisted torture is a memory you’ve replayed over multiple times.

But unfortunately no one can figure out what brought the statue to life and him here.

“I’m a man. Not a statue.” The roman general clarifies.

“You are now, but we gotta figure out why.” You sigh exhausted while Marcus readies breakfast for everyone.

He’s been an incredible host. It’s been hard not lingering on how domestic and warm he is within his own space.

Especially when there’s also an archaic man looking just as handsome walking around in a tight white t shirt Marcus lent him.

Surrounded by two unbelievably gorgeous men has been a double edged sword, a blessing and curse.

General Acacius reminds you of a mountain, ever powerful, sturdy and unwavering with the change of seasons. Yet there’s still an open vulnerability to him. You’ve seen it in how grateful he’s been and how eagerly he’s tried absorbing all about this new world.

Whereas Marcus reminds you of a river, beautifully flowing, always adaptable. But he surprises you with how direct and firm he’s been, almost protective in keeping you and Acacius safe.

You also don’t miss the way Marcus’s eyes sometimes flicker to sneak a glance at the older General. You can’t blame him.

Acacius fills out modern clothes sinfully. Watching him navigate everything with a certain poised grace is attractive. While Marcus has become endearing and patient, incredibly welcoming to this new hiccup in his life. You haven't felt this comfortable with someone in so long.

Truly a river and mountain now exist in your life, and you want to stay in their atmosphere more and more.

But you can’t get tangled in the budding emotions growing for these men.

You need to figure out how to help Acacius.

“Once I get back to the office, I’m hoping I can try to find something that could maybe help.” Marcus clarifies while grabbing his work bag.

You’ve learned much about him these past few days. Like he enjoys a good run, used to be a swimmer, has a soft spot for strays, surprisingly loves football -

Also that he’s a well known FBI agent.

You realized you never once asked what he did for work, and you’ve known him for months.

“You have feelings for that man.” Acacius announces once it’s you and him alone in the apartment. You almost spit out your drink.

“We’re friends, that’s all.” You huff.

This Marcus doesn’t seem to believe you, and gives you a very modern dry eyed side glare that makes you roll your eyes.

“I’ve seen the way he watches you, the look of a man in love.” Acacius continues.

“Well I see the way he stares at you too, pal.” You reply back before you can even realize what you said.

Your words do their job stunning the general.

“He is too young for an old man like me.” Acacius rapidly fires back.

“You’re not that old.” You clarify. “If anything you’re distinguished, mature.”

“You are too kind, dear lady.” He chuckles.

You ignore how fast warmth spreads through you a dangerous wildfire just hearing him.

Your phone ringing makes poor Acacius jump. Though, it’s progress from the confused shout he used to yell whenever the phones rang.

Your boss explains that unfortunately the museum will have to stay closed the rest of the month for further investigations, and everyone’s information has been sent in to check for any suspicious activities.

It sounded serious.

Dead serious because after that phone call, you get called by the police department to head in for a few questions.

You have nothing to hide, except you did.

Because in theory you technically did and didn’t steal the statue. You just know the cops wouldn’t take your explanation.

The interrogation room you sit in is coated in a bleak serious air making you fidget worried. This is also the first time you left General Acacius alone at the apartment and that worry picks at you.

Then two officers walk in. One an older distinguished woman who gives you a nod then the other… a rather striking man.

Hawkish nose, clean shaven face, kind eyes, he smiles soft at you.

Marcus.

The agent that walked in is Marcus.

You try not to stare, but it’s hard. Dressed in an official suit and tie, the badge he wears, he sits across for you a striking professional handsome agent.

The woman introduces herself as one of the head local detectives of the case and the man accompanying her is from the FBI, specifically the head of the art crimes division.

Marcus wasn’t just an agent but someone that important.

You can’t deny how extra attractive it makes him.

“Agent Marcus Pike.” Polite and sweet he outstretches his arm to shake your hand like you’ve never met him before.

The questions are very basic.

Where were you the last time you saw the statue? Do you remember any recent guest that stopped by that maybe seemed suspicious?

You answer as truthfully and as best as you can, while also hiding the ancient Roman sized man truth away.

“Funny enough,” Agent Pike comments. “It does seem like this statue just seems to have…I don’t know, grown legs and walked out itself.”

You weakly laugh at his joke. You don’t miss the tug of his lips trying not to grin.

You leave the room as if you stepped out of a strange pocket dimension. Then again these past few days have felt strange and disorienting.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were the head of some FBI art division?!” You let Marcus have it when you both return back to his apartment.

“Is that dangerous?” Acacius asks curiously.

“I don’t know.” You sigh.

“No…This is good.” Marcus clarifies. He even picked up apology pastries. General Acacius greedily snags a cheese danish and moans in pure delight once he takes a bite.

It’s hard to ignore how incredibly sexy he sounded.

“It means I can keep looking in my records for any previous instances of situations like this, or if there’s any leads on the case I’ll know.” Marcus patiently explains.

That calms you enough.

Days pass, and Acacius grows restless.

He doesn’t sleep well, snapping at you and Marcus often more. He mourns the loss of a world that’s passed, of a wife he lost. The grief comes in waves. You and Marcus try comforting him, but Acacius reminds you of a caged tiger, restless and fanged. You understand. Being cooped up in a strange home in a strange world must be exhausting.

So Marcus and you agree to have a nice weekend out with him.

General Acacius fidgets in the cozy cream knit sweater that stretches over his broad body, but damn does he look incredible. So does Marcus in his scholarly sleek coat.

This trip also works as another opportunity to do more investigating. The nearby bookstore is the first stop. Acacius gasps seeing the stretch of books.

“Pretty impressive, yeah?” Marcus smirks, and you grin agreeing. He decides to take a look at the art history books here for any information he might have missed.

You unfortunately get side tracked with the many books in front of you and slightly wander away from Acacius when one catches your eyes.

But you quickly find your way back to him.

The elder Marcus stands stunned like a ghost among the classical literature holding a thick encyclopedia.

“I knew of what happened to Rome after you and Pike told me. But seeing the grand colosseum like this… it’s a specter of ruins now.” He mutters while taking in the photo of the ancient landmark.

“I am glad. There should be no need for more death matches.” His voice weighs with the heaviness of centuries past.

You agree, happy he shuts the book and returns it back. You’re about to dive into the Ancient Rome section yourself now until he speaks again.

“What if I am not the same man these books speak of?” The older Marcus questions hollowed.

That stuns you.

“What if the man who died many years ago… is not me?” His voice wavers.

Existential dread looms off him a dark storm growing stronger.

Marcus turns the corner smiling bright. But quickly he immediately notices the shift in atmosphere, and his face falls as he mouths asking what’s wrong.

You let General Acacius speak from the heart.

“What if… I am not me? What if I am not the real Marcus Acacius?”

His face is weighted with fear, raw and open making him appear lost and so small for someone powerful as him.

“I believe it’s you.” You reassure him gentle. “I’m sure Marcus does too. Besides… who says you can’t be the same man?”

There are pieces of yourself that you’ve left with people, even some bits of you have gotten snagged in certain places or tied to certain objects. Who says a piece of Marcus Acacius truly resided in the statue and simply woke up. And if that’s the case, then that means he’s as real as ever.

You explain all of this best as you can to Acacius. Those deep steady eyes of his waver transforming into molten earth. Your hand moves down to squeeze his stronger large warm hand.

He squeezes back tight.

“Besides the man that died is still you too. You’re allowed to be both.” Marcus jumps in with the most tender voice

“That does not sound true.” Acacius mutters.

As modern has he’s slowly become, you think it still might be too hard to explain dimensional or reality theory.

“This philosopher I read about once said something along the lines of, if you think, therefore you are.” Marcus clarifies. “You exist here and now. And sometimes that’s all that matters.”

You realize both you and Marcus slowly have huddled around General Acacius. You on one side and Marcus on the other, barricade to support your General as much as you or Marcus can.

Acacius sighs, watery, taking it all in.

Your heart aches for him. It overwhelms you, causing you to gently rest your head against his shoulder and letting your hand rest on his back.

Marcus also moves closer, placing his hand right besides yours, gingerly touching your hand.

Among the books you and these two rest simply in the stillness of the moment. You feel something hook deep in your chest, a feeling you can’t fully express.

After, Marcus treats everyone to his favorite taco truck. It's infectious seeing Acacius’s spirits brighten again. He again moans delicious when he takes his first bite. You don’t miss the awkward cough Marcus makes.

But the tacos are amazing and the cooler weather covers everything in a comforting dreamy cloud.

“I want to explore this world as much as I can.” Acacius declares with resolution and shining gilded hope.

So you start bringing the Roman general out with you more.

The museum is still being investigated, so you take the chance to enjoy the days, especially now with Marcus Acacius by your side. He enjoys your smaller apartment, becomes a fan of cooking shows fast.

Marcus and you discovered he isn’t big on sushi but has a notorious sweet tooth. Acacius embraces everything now with more gusto, a vibrant curiosity about many things, especially food. It’s endearing.

General Acacius also proves to be a lovely companion when you go grocery shopping.

“So many spices.” He says in awe in the aisle.

More people arrive and you try maneuvering your cart through the traffic. General Acacius catches on quick. Staying close to you, he places a comforting hand at your lower back and the other against yours in the cart. Shifting his body against yours, he’s a protective shield until you’re out of the thicket.

It sends the wildest hum of sparks throughout your body that persistently stays. Acacius stays firmly beside the rest of the trip.

For a man out of time, he’s open for conversation. The check out worker seems to blatantly ignore you while she happily and very openly flirts with him.

You don’t say much, ignoring the possessive emerald eyed sense of jealousy threatening to rise. He bids the flirty cashier a good day along with an elegant head nod. You keep quiet heading back to the car.

“That woman, she gave me a strange note with numbers on it.” General Acacius comments cautious, almost worried about what they could be.

You almost trip on the way out.

“Her number, she gave you her phone number.” You explain simply.

Of course you have to elaborate what that means and how it’s a modern way of signaling someone is attracted to you.

“Truly?” His handsome aged face scrunches up confused.

“What can I say? In any year you’re a catch.” You try not to sound wistful.

“I’m an old man not from this time. I have nothing worth for anyone to desire me.” Now he sounds dejected, somber and serious.

“Okay, besides being absolutely one of the most gorgeous men ever, you’re kind. Incredibly loyal and brave. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” Earnesty floats off you.

His face drops, your words finally settling within him. The soft streams of grays in his luscious curled hair and rustic beard, the beautiful scars he wears that tell of his victories…

The statue truly was not able to capture the magnetic pull of this man.

Acacius’s eyes flicker across your face. You swear something shimmers in his deep earth eyes. His gaze flickers down for a split moment, as if he’s glancing at your lips.

Then your phone rings with a text, and you sigh.

This precious bubble you’ve been in, this newly woven existence with these two gorgeous men, is one you want to stay in forever. It’s warm, easy, and feels too nice to leave.

But work eventually crashes in.

The museum finally reopens but with the Roman exhibit closed still. The missing art has brought in more foot traffic to the museum. But what surprises you is seeing Marcus at work now while he works. You and him share sweet secret smiles to each other.

Even with work getting busy for you and him, you’ve been texting with Marcus frequently. It’s even been amusing being on the phone with him and Acacius cries out surprised hearing your voice.

Your mind drifts to them again as you daze off a bit at work.

“So, did you ever drink that tea I gave you?” Your favorite coworker asks, interrupting your daydream.

The confusion must be evident on your face.

“Ya know… the sweet love wish tea?” She grins like a pleased cat that’s about to catch a canary.

An abrupt realization barrels right into you, a fierce horned bull almost knocking you out at the knees. You can’t believe a possible magical tea maybe brought a statue to life. But with that statue now a very real ancient Roman man you’ve been harboring - anything is possible now.

“Can you tell me where the shop is that you got it?” You rapidly ask her.

Your next day off you head down there immediately, not even taking either of your Marcus boys.

The sweetest shop owner greets you warm and welcoming. You compliment her lovely silvery lavender hair.

“Oh it’s to hide the grays.” She winks, and you grin.

But the nervousness rises because you don’t even know how to approach the question you have.

“Something seems to be bothering you.” Of course she notices but speaks with a gentle tone.

Your heavy sigh must say it all. Very sweetly she pulls out a stool by the register and settles in waiting to hear your story.

Even with her welcoming smile, the hesitation pulls at you. But you manage to gently explain what happened without revealing the dizzying truth.

“So I drank the love wish tea. And something… someone I never imagined would come into my life did. So now I don’t know if there’s a way I could probably send him back to what, to where, he was.” You tell her.

The shop owner hums in deep thought, crossing her hands over her chest nodding.

“Is it a ghost? Did you call in a spirit? Are you in love with a ghost?” She asks flat out without hesitation, and you almost laugh.

She’s half right in a way.

“I’m thinking…possibly the one thing that came to mind that I would do first is to do an unbinding spell. Whatever is keeping this man here, the separation of that would be what sends him back.” She says jumping off her chair, waving at you to follow her through the shop.

You quickly scurry behind her.

Grabbing a pack of two candles, the ritual she describes is simple enough. Tying a string around the two candles, lighting them until they burn, which in the process would burn the thread, theoretically severing the tie of Acacius to this world.

“And you said it was the love wish tea you drank, yes?”

You nod, and she nods back in understanding.

“What that tea is meant to do is call in your heart’s desires, simply allow the universe to bring whatever magic it seems fit to your life…But it also isn’t doing it forcefully.” She explains.

The tea is known to work because it calls in someone who desires the same thing you do, almost like a little nudge in the matchmaking department, a magic magnet.

“It works because someone else is also receptive. But of course, there is no need to stay with whoever is brought to you.”

Her words sink into a deep corner of your heart. You wonder if that meant Marcus Acacius longed for a better future, and it’s why the tea worked on him.

Thanking her graciously, you take the candles and a few cute stickers she has by the counter.

“I hope everything works out for you, gorgeous.” Her warm smile becomes a comforting hug.

You hope so too.

But the way your stomach twists, a part of you realizes… what if you don’t want Marcus Acacius to leave?

It’s selfish - but you want this trio of you, him and Marcus Pike, to last as long as it possibly can.

Driving to Marcus’s apartment, guilt and selfishness fight each other tooth and nail. You don’t know if this unbinding spell would work, but it would be a start.

With the spare key Marcus gave you, you let yourself in.

There on the couch you catch the quickest glimpse of both men heavily making out with the elder Marcus greedily holding onto Agent Pike’s sharp jaw. You wonder if maybe you’re seeing things, but the image knocks you breathless.

The younger and modern Marcus, who halfway was on the elder General’s lap immediately, bolts away as if electrocuted.

On the table, you spot two glasses of wine.

They both stare at you, caught red handed. Immediately though, you scramble out apologies.

“I should have called and-”

Marcus says your name. “It’s.. it’s okay.”

You feel so foolish right now. You didn’t even think that they had a thing, and that you were possibly the third wheel.

“I can leave. I totally understand.” You really do.

“No.” Acacius orders, saying your name, firmly shaking his head as he rises. His eyes rusted steel swords that pin you to where you stand.

“This started because of you.” He adds.

Wait.

Because of you?

“Wait, are you guys drunk?” You even voice your confusion.

Both Marcus men shake their heads no.

“We were just talking about you, about us.” The younger Marcus explains.

“And it took us some time but we both desire each other. And we both desire you.” General Acacius simply interjects, and Marcus coughs stunned.

You wonder if you’re the one who’s been brought to life in another time.

“Honey, please don’t feel pressured if you don’t feel the same.” Marcus, wonderful Marcus Pike, ever understanding and eternally good.

“I’ve liked you for so long. Even tried to ask you out a couple of times, just got a bit of cold feet. It just unfortunately took an ancient Roman to get me to finally say something.” He laughs weakly, boyishly nervous.

He’s liked you all this time.

You don’t say anything, don’t think there’s any words you can say just yet. Simply the emotions overtake you.

You head first to the younger Marcus and kiss him with a fierce tug at his shirt. He happily pulls you into him and sighs into your lips.

A soft but large hand runs up your back, and the sensation makes your body bloom.

“You both are so beautiful.” The older Marcus mutters dripping with adoration.

With a squeeze to Marcus’s shoulder and one final soft kiss, you pull away then melt into the general’s waiting arms. His mustache tickles you as his lips kiss yours, but it’s divine.

Their hands all over you touch every inch they can. You’ve never felt this desired, never been the epicenter of affection and passion like this before. You just as eagerly try grabbing at either man with as much clawed possession as you can.

They’re both yours now after all.

Tumbling into the bedroom it’s like something out of a dream, blissful and deliciously decadent, but so real with how heated your body feels.

Both men start kissing your exposed skin, with one licking at your neck from behind and the other readily nipping at your exposed chest. Your mind melts in bliss.

“Marcus,” you sigh.

You’re rewarded with two beautiful groans, different in tones it becomes a symphony you want to hear forever.

In the blurry of haze, the sticky syrupy desire, you and the younger Marcus follow each other peppering multiple kisses on Acacius’s chest as he falls onto the bed.

You and the modern Marcus work together, conquering the beautiful golden exposed landscape of Marcus Acacius’s chest. You tenderly press your lips against the various scars then happily move to kiss the younger Marcus.

The delicious sighs from General Acacius fill the room, a hypnotic soundtrack.

Soon your lips start traveling further down across his body. Your fellow lover follows your trail, kissing and kicking every inch of Acacius. You and Marcus reach his cock twitching in the loose sweatpants Acacius has grown fond of.

“Fuck.” Marcus groans as he drags the older man’s cock out.

Fuck is right. Thick, girthy and dripping already, you already ache to have him inside in any way.

“Both of you are little fiends.” The elder Marcus croaks breathless. Confidence surges in you as you lick across his length, relishing in the taste of his skin.

Marcus’s tongue also licks with you along your other lover’s cock, even moving across your tongue. The louder groans coming from General Acacius only spur you and Marcus on.

Greedily your eyes flicker up towards the towering force of a warrior. The beautiful older man’s eyes blown black, desired drenched galaxies looking down at you and Marcus like prizes he wants to conquer himself.

It makes you dizzy, completely possessed, and you kiss your way down to one of his thick large heavy balls. You tentatively lick. Acacius initially hisses until his voice melts into the loudest primal groan when you start sucking.

Your sweet Marcus immediately follows your lead, dragging his mouth down as well. You and him simply devour Acacius, licking back and forth across your lover’s balls and each other’s mouths.

Marcus quickly starts stroking your lover’s thick cock. It’s heaven being among these two, allowing yourself to get lost in the golden ecstasy.

When Acacius reaches his release you greedily lick up his cum that spilled against his skin, and he groans. Once you sit up, you reach for Marcus’s cum covered hand and begin to lick and suck his fingers clean. It’s then your sweet Marcus that suddenly grabs your mouth with the same hand, pulling your face towards his.

“Don’t swallow baby, I wanna taste.” He mutters with blazed out eyes.

Hearing that you almost come on the spot.

You sit up and slowly allow your spit and the milky cum into Marcus’s waiting mouth.

“Gods above.” The elder Marcus moans carnal.

The rest of the night consumes you in a wanton haze.

Sweaty, exhausted, but floating on a cloud, you sink into the bed with two men barricading you in their arms.

“I’m surprised you were…open to this.” You say to Acacius who chuckles a bit.

“I have loved others before, some included men. One was even a fellow General who died tragically among the same coliseum walls as I once did.” He explains gently.

You kiss his chest softly in understanding.

As you and these two lie curled into one another on Marcus’s lush bed, it’s like a new door has opened.

You and Marcus eagerly ask your General about his days in ancient Rome and his travels across the old world, about the true story of how he got his scar. Ever the steady man, Acacius answers all questions he can.

In the middle of this warm incredible double Marcus sandwich makes you giddy. But Acacius’s deep comforting lull of a voice, Marcus’s soft hands stroking your skin, create a cocoon drawing you to sleep faster than you realize.

A soft kiss comes to the top of your head.

“Rest. We will be here when you wake.”

Nodding through a yawn, you happily kiss them both goodnight. But just before you fall into the depths of sleep, you catch the two talking.

“What… will happen if I do not return to stone?” Acacius speaks first, so low and cautious you wonder if you’re dreaming already.

“I… I guess the statue will remain incomplete, stolen.” Marcus answers truthful but gentle.

A moment passes.

“What if I do not wish to return to stone?” Acacius clarifies.

You hear Marcus inhale sharp.

“I’ve longed for peaceful days away from the brutality of the frontline. And now… it’s here.”

A thick hope shines through the older Marcus’s voice, slipping past your ribs to piece your heart.

Movement shifts the bed, arms reach across for each other and seem to cage around you more.

“You’ll always have the final say. You get to make that choice. Neither of us would ever want to force you or take that away from you.” Marcus’s molten words are coated in pure understanding.

“I wish to stay here… with you and her.” Confidence, solidified resolution, radiate from the General’s voice.

The bed shifts again, and you hear them exchange the softest kiss.

“We’ll have to make sure to tell her in the morning.” The modern Marcus sighs dreamily. His hands again start rubbing your arm soothing, as if he can sense you’re fighting sleep.

“Of course. We must never forget our lady.” The older Marcus agrees.

His words along with a soft kiss to your forehead become the final push that allows sleep to settle.

— °˖➴ —

“So you’re telling me mister head of the art crimes department will be okay with a statue staying stolen and missing forever?” You smirk amused while Marcus drives down the familiar roads.

“Hey it’s no Vemeer’s Concert, but I’ll live with it.” Marcus playfully smirks and shrugs.

The investigation on General Acacius’s missing statue had run cold. There was no indication of a break in or forced exit. From the surveillance tapes, the video recordings simply shimmer, distorted for one moment, and then the statue is gone. As if it vanished into thin air.

Or is simply currently sitting in the back seat of the car taking in the world and power of a motor vehicle.

“You hear that, General? Our boy said you’re not valuable.” You tease.

“I don’t mind and I can agree.” Acacius replies bored, making you laugh. The green sweater he wears compliments him and brings out the streams of grays in his hair. You and Marcus have loved seeing him embrace modern clothing more than ever.

“That’s not what I meant.” Marcus rolls his eyes.

You snicker even more.

The occult shop arrives, and the candles feel lighter than ever in your bag, especially knowing you’re here to return them.

“Seems like you didn’t need these after all.” Your favorite lavender haired shop owner says with a coy smirk. Her eyes stay locked on your men exploring the aisles.

“A two for one deal? I'm definitely advertising that for the tea.” She adds eagerly, and you hide a laugh behind your hand.

If only you could tell her the full truth.

You return to your boys, enjoying the way Acacius seems to be a bit petrified among all of the occult objects.

“Are you sure this witchcraft is safe?” He asks worried, snd Marcus smooths by rubbing his back.

You grin.

Love, affection, might be the strangest but most beautiful magic after all.

[i-love-ptv]

Melting 🍹࿐ ࿔.˚

Pairing: Kiara Carrera x Fem!Smoothie/Juice Bar Owner!Reader

Who knew a smoothie could bring a summer of love, Kiara surely didn’t.

Wc: 4,521

Angst if you squint? (Not sure), Fluff, Like 2 sexual innuendos.

An: PHEWW GIRLL….this is a long one. actually the longest fic I’ve ever written. Sorry if Kie is a lil ooc, i tried to do her justice 🌚.

Also!! Reader’s ethnicity n stuff isn’t mentioned, but I imagined reader as a woc (personally!!) it’s totally okay if you’re not, you’re still very much welcome :)

Feedback always appreciated!! xx

Another “are we there yettttt?” is dragged out from JJ.

“JJ, you asked me that five minutes ago, and if you ask again I swear I’m gonna punch you.” Kiara huffs out with a glare to the blonde.

John B purses his lips, “where are we going again Kie?”

“We’re going to this juice and smoothie bar my mom told me about, she basically begged me to go.”

Sarah’s walking with a pep in her step. “Am I the only one that’s actually kind-of excited to go?” She practically squealed.

“Considering that there’s a smoothie truck at nearly every corner in the Obx, yes.” Pope sighed, wanting to just sit down since it was so hot outside.

Cleo wipes the slight sweat off her forehead, “Next time, let’s bring the Twinkie, i’d rather have the shitty air conditioning than none.”

John B’s head snaps to her, looking like he’s about to say something before Kiara’s shout rips through the humid air.

“Right here! This is it!” She exclaims with an airy chuckle.

The group of pogues look at the tiki-style bar, surrounded by tables, some being occupied by other teens and families.

The banner on the shack read ‘Shelly’s Smoothies & Juice’.

“How cliche.” JJ muttered, earning a sharp elbow to the ribs by Sarah.

“Oh shut up JJ! I think it’s cute!” Sarah steps back a bit and takes a picture, Kiara throws her an amused glance.

The pogues get closer to the shack, getting a slight glimpse of all of the equipment in it, and John B rings the bell.

“Uh hello?! Thirsty, sweaty customers here!” JJ yells.

The group all groan and growl at JJ for his outburst, they’re all so distracted that they don’t see you approach the counter from the inside.

“Oh! I’m so sorry for the wait! I had to chase away a squirrel just now!” You yelp out sheepishly, feeling silly for being slightly out of breath, and for not keeping that embarrassing fact to yourself.

The group of six turns to you, their argument dying down immediately.

Sarah steps forward first, locking eyes with you.

“Ooh! Can I get a….Passionfruit smoothie please?”

You smile, taking in account her huge, beaming smile.

“Of course,” you replied, “and what about y’all?”

They each take turns telling you their orders, but Kiara doesn’t seem to care.

She can’t help but stare at you.

The way your lips move whilst you speak, the way your hair is slightly frizzy from the North Carolina heat, the way that your tan lines are peaking out from your shirt. Your lips are slightly glossy, is it crazy that she wants to know what it’s from, but she’s not interested in looking at the gloss itself?

“You okay, Curly Girl?” Your question breaks her out of her thoughts. Now she notices everyone looking at her.

Pope coughs and nudges her.

“Oh..! Right! Sorry, uhm, I’m not quite sure what I want…” She murmurs softly. God what is up with her today?

You gasp with a smile, “It’s totally okay babe! Do ya got any allergies? ‘Cos I’d love to make you a smoothie I think you’d like!”

The brown haired girl whispers out a “no I don’t have any” and you immediately get to work after collecting the money from everyone.

While JJ is resting against the counter talking to you, the rest of the pogues look at Kiara suspiciously.

“Uhm okay..So what was that?” John B asks, while Cleo looks with a smirk.

“You think she’s pretty, don’t you girl?” This makes Kiara sputter.

“What? Well, yeah she’s pretty, like obviously. But like, not in that way!”

Cleo’s smirk turns into a cocky grin, “I didn't say it was in that way.”

Kiara looks at the others for support with wide eyes, but they all just shrug at her, and Sarah slightly grins at her.

She then tunes into the conversation JJ is having with you.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, you new here?”

You let out a loud ‘huh?’ over the noise of the blender.

“I said-“ JJ tries again, which is when you finally turn the blender off.

JJ lets out a charming laugh, “I asked if you were new here. I’ve never seen you around before, and trust me, I would’ve noticed a pretty girl like you.”

“Ugh, JJ, tone it down.” Pope complained.

You giggle at him, showing off your slightly puffy cheeks.

“Nah, I moved here for the summer, ‘till late August with my Aunt Sally, this is her bar! We just finished it up last week.”

You start handing out the smoothies and juices to the others, making sure not to spill any of the sweet drinks.

They sit down at the only other unoccupied table when they see a slightly older woman, pulling up in a navy blue pickup truck.

You jog over to their table and sit yourself down.

“There’s my aunt now! Since she’s here, I can finally take my break” You drag out playfully, you continue, “Oh I totally forgot to ask, is it okay if I sit here? I don’t wanna interrupt anything, but I’d love to get to know y’all!”

They all replied happily, and you made yourself snug between Cleo and Kiara.

The group sip excitedly at their drinks, letting our groans of satisfaction at the taste.

Pope pipes up first, “Wait, so if your aunt’s name is Sally, why’s this place called Shelly’s?”

“It’s a nickname we have for her! ‘Cos y’know that one tongue twister, ‘Sally sells seashells by the seashore’, and now that I say it out loud it sounds…kinda silly..” You finish meekly.

“That’s actually kind-of cute.” Kiara whispers under her breath.

“What was that Curly?” You ask her while looking at her with a glint in your eyes.

Kiara clears her throat, “Nothing! I was just saying how good this smoothie is, mind telling me what it is?”

You beam at this, “Well I can’t tell you, silly! It’s a secret!”

The pogues continue to look at the two of you, some with quirked brows, while the rest look slyly.

“Wait! Before we go any further, I need to know everyone’s names! Mine’s ___, but you can call me Cherry.”

They all introduce themselves, JJ boasts, while Kiara tries to find her footing, but only lets out a timid “Kiara, but everyone calls me Kie”.

You look at her, like you want to say something to her, but Sarah shouts abruptly, “Oh my god, this shirt is so cute! We definitely have to go shopping one day!”

You both laugh and talk excitedly, both talking over one another, but not seeming to care. Cleo eventually joins in too.

Kiara wishes she could, in fact, she doesn’t understand why she can’t. She’s never normally been like this.

With the pogues, she’s normally confident, and sarcastic, sometimes a little cocky too.

But for some reason, she can barely give out a sentence without squealing like a mouse. It makes her sick.

She thought she was bad when she was with JJ, but they didn’t last very long last summer.

But with him, she was still normal, she never acted like this.

She’d be lying if she said she hasn’t done her fair share of questioning her sexuality throughout life, but she’d never tell anyone that.

She honestly just feels pathetic, she just met this girl today.

She doesn’t know what spell this witch has on her, but god, she wants to get to know her.

{what is this spell baby? please show some mercy.}

Kiara’s spent an entire month trying to navigate these newfound feelings. It’s July now, meaning you leave next month.

To make matters worse, everyday she learns something new about Cherry, the timid, but confident girl that makes her a smoothie every single day; speaking of which..

“Hey Curly Girl! The usual?”

“Of course!” Kiara chuckled.

You notice that the group of pogues aren’t with her, you’re not that surprised though, she’s been coming by lately without them.

A part of you is glad that she visits alone, it gives you a chance to get to know her more without the constant teasing from the others.

You can’t help but crave to know every detail about her: what hair products she uses to make herself smell so heavenly, what her bedroom looks like, what her bed feels like…

An enraged shout makes you blink and look around wildly, “If I have to wait another fucking minute for a drink, I’m gonna start breaking every appliance in there!”

You gasp sharply, looking at the tall, burly man that’s spitting his words at you, both physically and figuratively.

“Uhm..Your juice is almost done sir! Just a minute…” You croak, letting out a breathy chuckle, trying to ease the tension in the air.

You have the burning urge to chew this man out for thinking he could come to your business and disrespect you, but Kie beats you to it.

She angrily walks up to him, “Dude, fucking lay off!”

He looks at her in disbelief, his eyes bulging and his nose flaring. You could faintly see a vein start to push against the skin from how he was almost screeching.

“Get the fuck outta’ the way, you runt.” The man starts to grit his teeth.

‘All this over a fucking juice? Jesus Christ.’ You think to yourself.

Kie steps forward, now almost chest to chest with the man as she looks up at him.

She speaks lowly, “The Cameron’s are real good friends of mine, and I can easily have you ran off this fucking island you prick.”

The stranger continues to hold eye contact with the brunette, their eyes boring into the other.

He scoffs, and begins to back up, “Whatever bitch.” He snarls, grabbing his money that you put out on the counter.

Kiara continues her glaring while you finish using the blender. You giggle and look at her amused, “Woah guys, watch out…I think she’s friends with the Cameron’s.”

She snaps her head at this, “Oh shut up loser. He was such a dick, it’s insane.”

“Yeah, he literally had just got here before you did, don’t know what the fuck his problem was.”

“Welllll, you might as well drink it, don’t want the juice to go to waste and all that.” She smirks.

You chuckle, “Wow, thanks for the free drink at my own bar. Here, Curly.”

You hand her the smoothie, and you notice how she accidentally put her fingers on yours, at least that’s what she believes you think. She’s not exactly the sneakiest.

She sips on it and moans in delight, is it crazy how you wish you could hear more of those?

“Will you ever tell me what’s in here? I mean, it’s been this huge mystery for an entire month now. For all I know, you could be poisoning me.”

“Yeah Kie, I’m definitely poisoning you slowly every day with smoothies.”

You continue, “It’s fun, having you guess the flavors and stuff. You’re so determined.”

Kiara groans at this, maybe your wish is coming true today.

“C’mon, just give me a hint.” She drags out.

“Maybe one day Curly Girl.”

August.

Normally, Kiara Carrera loved August.

She enjoys summer, but the feeling of the slight chill in the air, especially at night, as the weather begins to change for the new season, provides her a sense of comfort and nostalgia.

But now, all she can feel is dread.

You’re leaving soon. In two days, to be exact.

You’re going to be leaving her soon, and she hasn’t even told you how she feels.

That’s the thing…She doesn’t know how she feels.

Everything is so different with you, but she can’t describe it, and it’s killing her.

She wants to talk to someone about it, she honestly wants to talk to you, since you understand how she feels.

She only knows this because the night before when JJ had one too many beers at the Chateau, he had blabbered out that he wanted to get to know you, more romantically, that is.

At first, you looked at him like he had grown another head. Then you explained softly, “Oh JJ, I’m flattered sweetheart, really! But, I’m just..Not into guys like that.”

Kiara swore she felt her heartbeat in her ears, and she almost missed how quickly JJ sobered up after hearing that.

He looked like a kicked puppy who was left out in the rain, but Kie couldn’t bring herself to feel bad. In fact, she felt ecstatic at that moment, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. Well, she refused to, anyway.

Kiara would go to JJ, given he’s a ‘Chick-Magnet’ - his words - but that would be awkward. John B and (or) Pope would end up somehow blabbing to JJ.

She tried to talk to Cleo, but it didn’t go as successful as she thought it would. All she received was a ‘just go for it!’ As if it were that easy.

So she’s left with no choice.

If you woke up and told Sarah Cameron that she’d have Kiara on her doorstep asking for advice, she would’ve laughed in your face, three separate times.

Although they aren’t at each other's throats like before, Kiara was still a little standoff-ish towards Sarah.

So when Kiara was standing at the front door of Tanny-Hill, Sarah couldn’t help but stand there with wide eyes, mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but I really need your help. I think you’ll be able to give me the best advice out of everyone…” Kiara looked down at her vans, bending her foot around on the steps as she twiddled with her rings.

“Uh..Yeah! Sure! C’mon in…” Sarah hesitated, slowly moving her body away from the door frame, allowing the brunette to enter.

Sarah walks her up to her room, not without asking Kiara if she wanted anything from the kitchen.

Kiara looks around Sarah’s room, feeling a little bit out of place since she’s the only one standing now.

Sarah looks at the girl, “You can, y’know, sit on the bed if you want.”

Kiara meekly walks over to the bed and sits down on the right of Sarah.

“I hate to sound harsh, but what exactly are you..Doing here?” Sarah asked, deciding to break the silence first.

“I need advice..”

The blonde quirks a brow at this,“Go on.”

“So, I think I like this person, but..I don’t know how to

go about it.”

“The Kiara Carrera is getting shy over a boy?” Sarah says out of shock, putting emphasis on her words.

“Ugh, that’s the thing, it’s not about a boy.” Kiara flops back on Sarah’s bed, finding comfort in the soft blanket resting beneath her head.

“It’s Cherry, isn’t it? You like her?” Sarah says trying to mask her happiness, but quickly failing due to the growing grin on her face.

There’s a beat of silence consuming the room.

“… Is it that obvious?”

“To everyone but you, yeah.” Sarah giggles.

Kiara smiles grimly, “Do you think she knows?”

Sarah looks at her with sympathy, “I think so, and even if she didn’t, that kiss didn’t look very friendly.”

The kiss.

While at the Chateau, the pogues decided to play truth or dare at the fire pit.

Cleo had dared you to kiss the person you found the most attractive, and with a bit of liquid courage in your system already, you kissed Kiara.

It wasn’t a quick peck by any means, in fact, it lasted for quite a few seconds, but Kiara wanted more.

Kiara had spent the rest of the night trying to gather her bearings, everytime she would look over to you, she’d see you looking right back at her. You would smirk and tilt your head at her.

“You still with me Kie?” Sarah asks gently, putting a hand on Kiara’s knee.

“Sorry, it’s just that like, everything’s so confusing! She flirts, I try to flirt back, but nothing ever happens! I just don’t get it!” Kiara is flailing her arms around, trying to get her point across, and her sentence trails off.

“Well, you’re just nervous. You really like her, and actually having a full-blown crush is wayyy different than just being a questioning and wondering middle schooler, Kie.”

Sarah’s dragging her finger along the curve of Kiara’s knee, trying to provide even an ounce of comfort for the girl.

After an hour-long talk between the two girls, and a tight hug, Kiara finally made up her mind and figured out what she wanted to do. She just hopes she’ll have enough time.

You get a text from Kiara, she asked you to meet her on the beach, the same beach where she taught you how to surf.

You look at the time on your phone, the 9:20 is practically blaring into your retinas.

You have to be at the dock at 7:45am, so you can get on the ferry.

The fact that your summer is over still hasn’t fully registered in your mind.

The pogues have planned a ‘goodbye’ party for you, and you’re endlessly grateful.

They've treated you with so much kindness, you felt like you were a part of the group.

You’ve made more friends than you thought you would, but you can’t help but wonder if you and Kiara [specifically] would become something more than friends.

Kiara.

Kiara.

Shit, you’re supposed to be meeting her at the beach.

You rush out of your aunt’s house, and ride your bike to the beach.

You were a little confused though, you thought that your party was going to be at the Chateau, that’s what Pope had told you.

After a bit of riding, you make it there, and you see her sitting by herself in the sand.

Kiara cycles her head around and when she spots you, she smiles.

“Howdy Curly Girl.”

Kie giggles softly at this, “Howdy.”

She pats the spot next to her, signaling you to sit down.

You lay your head on your shoulder, watching the waves glisten in the moonlight.

“So..” You drag out while drawing shapes in the sand.

She mimics you, “Soo…”

“Any…Particular reason for summoning me?”

“Uh,” There’s a beat of silence after she lets out a breathy chuckle.

She finally continues, “I kinda..Just wanted to talk to you, I suppose. Since you’re leaving in the morning ‘n stuff..”

“Yeah? You could’ve talked to me at the party babe, y’know I’ll always make time f’you.” You whisper, gazing at her, you find yourself getting lost in her deep brown eyes.

You analyze her face. She looks scared, you don’t think you’ve ever seen her so nervous.

“What’s going on Kie? Are you alright?” You ask, you’re beyond concerned at this point. She’s jittery, and fidgeting with everything in her eyesight, rather than looking back at you.

She takes a deep breath then exhales, “I was gonna tell you to turn around so I could tell you, but that’s just stupid as shit so…”

You look at her expectantly, silently urging her to continue.

“Cherry. I really like you.” She mutters.

“…..Like in a gay way?”

“Jesus Christ, yes in a gay way.”

Nothing comes out of either of your mouths.

“Took you long enough, huh Curly Girl?”

Kiara’s eyes widen, and her jaw almost drops to the sand. “Are you serious?”

You giggle, suddenly finding a rush of energy, “Yes! Oh my fucking god! I’ve been waiting for you to do something all summer. You had me thinking I was gonna go home without a girlfriend.”

Kie swears she feels her heart skip several beats, or maybe they’re doubling, she can’t even fucking tell at this point.

“Who said anything about you getting a girlfriend?” She teases.

You give her your best blank look, unable to keep it long since your body betrays you and you let out a cackle.

Kiara’s smiling ear to ear, laughing with you, when suddenly, you tackle her.

“Stop! My hair!” She yells through laughs.

After continuing fooling around, you both decide its best to head back to the Chateau.

You both get there together, side by side on your respective bikes.

You sneakily intertwine your pinkie with hers, locking it while walking through the Chateau, where you eventually see your friends.

You gasp, standing still with your mouth agape, “You guys!”

There's a banner with ‘See You Soon Cherry!’ on it, the writing isn’t very straight, it’s actually pretty damn slanted. There’s little drawing of different fruits, some smudging due to what you can only assume is paint that wasn’t dry at the moment.

There’s balloons everywhere, and your eyes eventually land on the cooler, knowing there’s a few beers in there for you.

That’s when suddenly, you hear two loud ‘pops’ and multiple colored confetti pieces cloud your vision.

You look to your left and see Sarah, you look over at Kiara and notice John B on her other side.

Your pinkies are still locked, and you’re not the only one that notices.

“Well would you look at that.” John B shouted, making the other pogues direct their eyes to you and Kiara’s hands.

Sarah jumps up and down, clinging to your shoulders, “Holy shit! Holy shit! Did it really happen?!”

You look dead at her, giving her a knowing look with a smirk.

JJ, Pope, and Cleo are rushing over while John B keeps Sarah from doing a cartwheel into a table.

JJ speaks up first, “Wait! When the fuck did this happen?!” He cried out, nearly howling. This makes both you and Kiara shrug.

There’s questions and exclamations flying everywhere, you don’t even know where to begin.

The night carries on, there’s music and lights everywhere above the hot tub.

You keep your drinking to a minimum, not wanting to be on the ferry for hours while hungover.

When you decide that it’s getting late, you declare that you’re going home.

The pogues protest, but eventually, you’re able to convince them to drive you, since your aunt’s house isn’t too far, but far enough to the point where you guys can’t walk.

Kiara walks you to the doorstep while the pogues stay in The Twinkie, they’re trying to pretend as if they aren’t eavesdropping.

“Y’know you still haven’t asked me.” Kiara bites her lip softly.

“Asked you what, Curly Girl?”

“To be your girlfriend, idiot.”

You hum at her antics, “Mm, you’re so needy, do y’know that?”

She slaps your arm playfully, yelling out a “I am not!”

You get down on one knee, being careful of the slightly rocky parts of the concrete, you hold her hands in yours, and Kiara whines.

“No you are not, you are literally unreal.”

You giggle at her, directing a ‘shush’ her way, making her roll her eyes.

“Will you, Kiara Carrera, make me the happiest girl alive, and be my girlfriend?”

Kiara puts her finger on her chin, pretending to think about it, you pinch the exposed skin of her stomach.

“Ah! Okay! Yes, yes I’ll be your girlfriend you loser!”

You get up and hug her tightly, wrapping your arms around her midsection.

She giggles into the crevice on your neck and holds you tightly.

You hear cheers and howls from the Twinkie, but you can’t take your eyes off Kiara.

You squeeze her waist one last time, and send her back to the van, not without her giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You go inside and see your aunt, smirking at you from the living room couch. You roll your eyes and begin to go to your room.

“You better tell me all about her!”

“I will!”

It’s 7:43 in the morning, you’re staring at your converses solemnly.

All of the pogues are in front of you, accompanied by your aunt.

“Are you sure you have everything, Cherry?”

You groan, “Yes, I’ve already told you a million times.” The girls snicker at you, especially Kiara.

“Not sure what you’re laughing at, Miss Thing.” You quirk a brow at your girlfriend. God, it felt so good to finally be able to call her your girlfriend.

She scrunches her face at you at first, but then her smirk drops into a deep frown. She steps forward into your embrace.

“You can totally jus’like…Stay. You don’t have to go home.”

You smile softly against her head, leaving a small peck behind. “I’m sorry my Curly Girl, but I have to

go home. I have to go to college and all that.”

John B pulls Kiara off of you, earning several shouts from the rest of the group.

“Oh shut up, I’m not gonna let Kie hog her before she’s gone for a year.”

He hugs you tightly, it makes your eyes water. He pulls back and notices your pout. “I’m gonna miss you guys so much..”

The pogues, alongside your aunt, gather around you, squeezing you tightly, whispering promises of ‘We’re gonna call and text all the time!’ and ‘We’re gonna miss you so much, it’s never gonna be the same without you’.

“Does anyone know what time it is?” You sniffle.

Kiara immediately whips out her phone, showing the time. It read 7:48.

“Okay so what if it’s not coming, does that mean you can stay forever?” JJ asks, reminding you of a child on Christmas morning.

You look over and see the ferry slowly coming towards the dock.

“It’s here JJ..”

“I know..” JJ pouts.

Cleo shouts abruptly, “Wait!”

She picks up the bag off the dock, nearly forgetting it.

“All of us put something of ours in it, so you can remember us!” She smiles warmly at you.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling, especially when Sarah swats your hand when you go to look inside the bag.

“You can’t look now, silly! You’re supposed to wait until you miss us.”

“Oh my god whateverrr.” You trailed off with a laugh.

The ferry officially stopped moving, signaling that it’s your time to go.

You look at the ship, and look back at Kiara.

You grab her face with both of your hands, stroking gently while she bats her eyelashes at you.

“You’re the reason why I had the best summer of my life. I love you Kiara.”

“I love you more ___.” Kiara croaks.

You grab her left hand, slipping off one of your rings, and putting it on her finger, you kiss it softly.

She pulls you into a passionate kiss, holding your head in place, like she’s not ready for you to go yet.

You pull back slightly, making sure you're leveled with her ear.

“Cherry and coconut.”

Kiara pushes your face back so she can look at you properly, “Huh..?”

You wait a second, watching intently as it slowly dawns on her.

You leave a kiss on her nose, and begin to walk towards the end of the dock.

Kiara faintly hears shouts of “We love you!”, her hearing’s fuzzy, and all she can focus on is you.

Cherry and coconut.

The recipe to the smoothie of love.

[year-of-the-echidna]

What is the Year of the Echidna event?

2024 was Knuckles’ 30th anniversary, but a certain hedgehog overshadowed him.  We say: no fair!  It’s time to give Knuckles his due diligence.  2025 is going to be the Year of The Echidna!

For the next 51 weeks of this year, we will be posting a weekly prompt to inspire artists of all kinds to draw our favorite echidna.

Every Wednesday we will release a new prompt.  Creators will have the rest of the week to post their fanart, fanfic, etc. To have your piece featured on the event page, just tag @year-of-the-echidna.

Starting January 8th, 2025 with 51 prompts total, the event will go the entire year!

Prompt List Transcript

~~~

FAQ

What can I post?

The event is open to art of all types including fanart, fanfiction, playlists etc.  Whatever your creative endeavor, all are welcome!

Can I post about other Sonic characters?

Other characters can be included but Knuckles should be the main focus.  This year is all about him!

Can I post nsfw?

You are welcome to create whatever the prompt inspires, but in accordance with tumblr’s TOS we will be unable to reblog anything that wouldn’t be allowed in a PG13 movie.  We encourage all creators to tag their posts appropriately!

Do I have to follow the prompts?

No!  The prompts are guidelines.  Follow your heart!

What if I finish a prompt early/late?

While we prefer you post within each prompt’s timeframe, early and late submissions will still be reblogged until the end of the first week of January 2026.

Which version(s) of Knuckles are welcome?

We welcome all versions of Knuckles, whether they be canon, fanon, or alternate universe versions!

Can I draw my OCs?

Yes! As long as Knuckles is the central character, OCs are welcome.

What about ships?

We have no shipping restrictions. Be mindful to tag things and remember that we will only reblog content that could be rated PG13 or lower.

Can I use AI?

We will not reblog AI artwork or fanfiction.

~~~

That's it! Any questions, don't hesitate to ask, and our mods @guardian-of-da-gay, @mama-qwerty, @aphantimes, and @nights-nonsensical-ramblings will be happy to help!

Now, get creating!

[monotonesmile]

Patching up a smug bird

[Damian Wayne X GN!Reader]

[Word Count: 854]

[Warnings: Minor blood and injury]

———————————————————————

“Watch it!” Damian huffs through a wince as they disinfect one of the cuts on his shoulder, sitting shirtless on a chair while they scurry around him to help assist him with his wounds from a rough night on patrol.

“Stop moving and I might be more gentle, birdie.” They raised an eyebrow at him after hearing his wince, cleaning away the dried blood from his skin, making sure there is no debris in the cut, which luckily there isn’t, a clean slice.

“Birdie?” Damian’s face scrunched at the nickname, refusing to admit that it made his chest warm, even if they were currently annoyed that he had been so reckless on patrol.

“Shh, let me finish putting some bandages on.” They shush him which makes Damian grumble to himself, watching as they carefully wrap his shoulder with bandages, checking to make sure they’re in place before the move to the next cut.

Damian stays silent as he watches them work, wincing quietly again when they start cleaning the cut on his side, he hates to show any kind of weakness, especially pain, yet they don’t care, only helping solidify in his mind even further that this isn’t the League of Assassins, that he can show pain, that he can appreciate this.

“Thank you…” Damian had muttered as he looked over at them as they placed a bandage over the cut on his side, making them blink and look up at him in surprise, not expecting genuine gratitude to come from him, at least not without a fight or bitterness.

“It’s no problem…” They murmur, a little smile making its way onto their face as they step back to look him over for any other injuries, finding none. “You’re all set, birdie.”

Damian nods, looking down at his torso to check their work, looking over the bandages decorating his dark skin. He gets up from the chair, walking over to where he threw his shirt when he had first arrived, pulling it over his head, adjusting it until it’s the way he likes.

“You’re welcome by the way.” They grin from behind him as they are putting their medical supplies back in its kit, their back facing him.

“Mhm.” Damian glances back at them from over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes a little before he walks over to them, standing behind them with his arms crossed, they could practically feel his eyes boring a hole through the back of their head.

“Yes?” They look up at him from over their shoulder, head slowly turning to face the boy wonder behind them.

“Why do you call me birdie?” Damian finally questioned, tilting his head slightly, his eyes set in a glare, although he’s not upset, he’s watching their movements, ever a tactical mind as always.

“Cause you’re a bird…?” They glance to the side before looking back at him, body slightly turned so they aren’t craning their neck over their shoulder just to look at him, it’s not a total lie…they just think it’s a cute nickname, besides, they’ve always given nicknames to the rest of the Bats!

“That is not the entire truth, now is it?” Damian immediately saw through the half baked excuse they came up with. Right. Lying to Damian is impossible.

“…no?” They mumble, not even trying to hide their uncertainty in their voice as they turn their head away from him again.

“You are a horrible liar, even Grayson is better at lying than you are.” Damian rolled his eyes, grabbing their chin to make them face him again, looking down at them with a frown.

They can’t even function after he grabbed their chin, pulling their head back towards him, they definitely hadn’t expected that, a flustered expression on their face as they look up at him with wide eyes.

“Now. Why do you call me birdie?” Damian repeated his question, leaning down slightly so he could look them in the eyes, faces close together as Damian’s voice lowered while he spoke.

“Uh…because it’s…cute…and it always catches you off guard…” They mutter quietly, their face warm from blood rushing to their cheeks at their close proximity.

“Was that so hard?” Damian huffs, noticing the flustered expression on their face, his eyes narrowing even further as he smirks, the smug bastard.

“Can you let go of my face now…?” They glance away from him, too flustered to deal with this at this point, just wanting to get back to putting their medical supplies away.

“Hm.” Damian hums quietly, before he lets go of their chin, he places a kiss on their cheek, grinning as he pulls away and releases them. “I’ll be off now, once again, thank you.” Damian grin, walking over to the window as he places his domino mask back onto his face.

“Uh- wha- ye-yeah…?” They stutter, body slumping back onto their table as Damian chuckles before leaving through their window.

“He…what?” They were more caught off guard than ever, running a hand through their hair as they leaned back against the table behind them. They'll be talking with that bird once they see each other again.

———————————————————————

[Requests are open!] (please request other characters outside of Leo, I love him, don’t get me wrong, but there are so many others.)

[earthlyangelbby]

Say Anything ❄️

CW: virgin!Eddie, kissing, fingering, blow job, P+V, nervous!Eddie reader is referred to as Angel she/her

Summary: A typical hangout turns into an unexpected sleepover when a snow storm traps Eddie at her house. A first for Angel and Eddie's friendship. But that isn't Eddie's only first that night.

7.8k words

For two months now she and Eddie had been inseparable, ever since they first met at Family Video, where he worked. She’d just moved to town, and Eddie, with his wild hair and easy grin, had been the first person to make her feel welcome. Spending their afternoons together, grabbing coffee, or just hanging out at each other's places was a welcomed new normal. Eddie insisted that in comparison to him, she was an Angel. So that's what he called her. Well most of the time anyway, Sweetheart and Darling still found a way to his list of names for her. 

Tonight, Angel had invited Eddie over again, knowing her dad was out of town. Her bedroom was its usual cozy mess, books, and clothes scattered across the floor. Eddie was sprawled on the bed, thumbing through her records.

The credits rolled across the screen as Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes played softly in the background. Eddie stretched his arms behind his head, his lips curling into a sly grin. 

“Alright, I’ll admit it—that was pretty solid. But the boombox scene? Total cheese.”

She hugged a pillow to her chest, narrowing her eyes at him. “Cheese? Eddie, that’s one of the most iconic romantic gestures of all time!”

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh, come on. What kind of guy actually does that in real life? Stands outside someone’s window blasting music like a one-man concert?” He paused, his grin turning playful. “If I liked a girl, I’d at least write her a song or something, not just steal a track off the radio.”

“Wow, how original,” she shot back with a smirk. “A whole song? That’s so much cooler than Lloyd Dobler holding up a boombox.”

Eddie leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Admit it, Angel—you’d totally swoon if a guy did that for you. The letter-writing, the boombox, the whole deal.”

She sighed dramatically, pressing the pillow to her chest. “Lloyd Dobler is the perfect guy. He’s sweet, thoughtful, and knows exactly what he wants. Who wouldn’t want someone like that?”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, okay. Perfect guy. Sure. But you’d be bored stiff after two weeks with him.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?!”

“Admit it,” Eddie teased. “You’d miss the fun of someone who actually knows how to keep you on your toes. Lloyd’s all grand gestures and deep talks, but where’s the chaos? The unpredictability?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You mean the kind of chaos you bring? Let me guess you’re more of a Fast Times at Ridgemont High guy.”

“That’s harsh,” Eddie said, catching the pillow she threw at him. “But accurate.” He grinned, leaning back into the couch. “Give me Spicoli over Lloyd Dobler any day. At least he knows how to have a good time.”

Shaking her head, she stood up and started gathering the empty snack bowls. “Yeah, that tracks. You’d be too busy making fun of everything to appreciate a real romantic gesture.”

Eddie wandered over to her record collection, his attention snagged by the neatly stacked vinyl. “Alright, now let’s see if your taste in music makes up for your questionable taste in movies.”

“Questionable?” she called over her shoulder, shooting him a look. “Says the guy who probably listens to nothing but screaming guitars.”

“Not just screaming guitars,” Eddie shot back, flipping through the records. He pulled one out, holding it up with a raised eyebrow. “Ah, ABBA. Dancing Queen. A true masterpiece.”

She snorted, crossing her arms. “Mock it all you want, but ABBA’s timeless.”

Eddie held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t get me wrong. I can get down to ABBA.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Wait, seriously?”

“Sure,” he admitted, smirking. “I just like seeing how mad I can make you.”

“You’re impossible,” she said, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her grin.

Before she could respond further, the crackle of the radio interrupted them, followed by a stern announcement from the weather service.

"Weather alert: A severe snowstorm is expected to hit the area tonight. Please Stay indoors and avoid unnecessary travel until further notice."

She raised an eyebrow, lips curling into a mischievous smile. “Looks like you’re stuck here, Eddie.”

Eddie straightened up, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “Stuck? What do you mean? You invited me over on purpose, knowing this would happen. You wanted me to sleep over!”

Oh god, is he actually onto me? I mean, I didn’t plan for a snowstorm, but I’m not exactly upset it’s keeping him here longer. I can’t even deny that I might have... hoped for this. He’s probably just messing around.

She laughed, feeling the flush creep onto her cheeks. “It’s not like I planned for a snowstorm. Do you really think I can control the weather?”

Eddie leaned in, his grin widening. “So, you’ve got me stuck here with a snowstorm raging outside. I think that was your plan all along, sweetheart?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “What? Do you think I invited you over just for the snow? Maybe I just like your company,” she teased, trying to sound casual.

Eddie's smile softened “You know I like your company too. I’m glad to be stuck here with you. Better than being by myself in my tin can.” 

She chuckled, glancing at the window where snowflakes were already swirling around. “As long as you don't hog all the covers we’ll be good Eds” 

Wait, what? Did she just—? Eddie’s thoughts raced. Did she really just say that? Does she want me to—sleep in her bed? Does she mean it? Or am I overthinking it? This is it. This is the moment. Don’t freak out, just stay cool, Munson. It’s just a bed.

Eddie’s grin faded for a moment, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Wait, so… do you want me to sleep in your bed with you?” he asked, a little taken aback by the suggestion. You have never crossed that line before, and the thought seemed to catch him off guard.

Her cheeks flushed with heat, but she shrugged it off, doing her best to play it cool. “I didn’t say anything about that,” she said, trying to sound casual, but there was a spark of something in her eyes. “I just meant, don’t hog the blankets if you’re sticking around.”

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. Oh, she definitely wants me in that bed. It’s in her eyes—she’s trying to act like she’s not into it, but I can tell. His pulse quickened as his mind raced. Okay, play it cool, Munson. Don’t give her the satisfaction of seeing how much I want this.

He leaned back slightly, glancing from her to the bed, pretending to give it a second thought. “Oh, I’m staying. No way am I braving that snowstorm just to freeze in my van.” His voice was smooth, but his thoughts were anything but. She’s giving me an opening. She’s letting me stay in her bed. I mean, she has to know how badly I want this. It’s all there, right? The way she said it, the way she looked at me…

She tried to hide the smirk tugging at her lips, but the playful gleam in her eyes didn’t quite match the nonchalance in her tone. “Relax, Eddie. It’s not like I’m asking you to stay forever.” She paused for a beat, her voice dropping into something just a little quieter, more teasing. “I’m just saying… share the blankets.”

Eddie’s grin widened, a thrill running through him. She’s giving me a chance here. She’s being coy, but I know what she’s doing. His mind spun with the possibility of what might come next. This is it. No turning back now.

“Well, in that case,” Eddie said, his voice low and teasing, “I guess I can handle a little blanket sharing. Not like I’ve got a choice now.”

Her lips fought a smile curving up slightly, “It's getting late, are you almost ready for bed?” 

Eddie let out a dramatic sigh as he tugged at the waistband of his jeans, giving her a playful look. God, this feels ridiculous. But seriously, I can't stop thinking about how she’s letting me stay here. In her bed. With her. This is actually happening, right?

He glanced over at her as she laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Guess I didn’t plan for the full-on ‘cozy night in,” Eddie said, a smirk tugging at his lips as he stood up, rolling his shoulders before making a dramatic show of pulling at the jeans again. Come on, play it cool. He caught her eye and winked, trying to act like it was all just casual fun, but inside, he was definitely feeling more than just the weight of the jeans. 

She shot him a teasing look. "What? You think those are uncomfortable? You really picked the tightest pair of jeans for a cozy snowed-in night?" she laughed, trying to hold back her smile. "You’re not gonna survive the storm in those."

Eddie glanced down at his jeans in exaggerated dismay. "You think these are the pants of misery?" He sighed dramatically. "Alright, you’ve got me. It’s either freedom of movement or... well, whatever this is."

She couldn’t help but laugh. "Exactly. You need something comfier if you’re planning to sleep." She casually walked over to her closet, pulling it open with a little shrug. "I don’t exactly have a ton of comfy options, though."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, half in jest, half in anticipation. "No sweatpants? Really?"

She turned back toward him with a smirk. "Sorry, not my style. But..." She paused, eyes glinting mischievously. "You could always just sleep in your underwear. No judgment."

Eddie froze for a second. His heart raced. Did she—? Did she just say that? He quickly suppressed the thought, but his mind couldn’t help but wander. "Oh, really? I’m free to just—" He cleared his throat, trying to play it cool. "Well, guess I don’t have much choice, huh?"

What if she’s serious? Eddie thought, his mind working overtime. She definitely wouldn’t suggest it unless she wanted me to, right?

She chuckled softly, glancing at him over her shoulder, amused by his reaction. She continued rummaging through her clothes, her heart skipping just a little bit at the thought of him actually following through. Does he know how hot he’d look in just his underwear? she thought, trying to focus on her task and not the fact that her imagination was already running wild. This is normal. I’m being normal about this. He’s not making a big deal of it. Neither should I.

"Guess that’s the only option," Eddie said, trying to play it off with a smirk, but inwardly, his excitement was building. Holy shit, she just gave me the green light...

She pulled a soft, cotton nightgown from the closet, holding it up to show Eddie. "This is what I’ll wear," she said, casually tossing it on the bed. It was simple, yet elegant—a soft blue nightgown that looked like it could almost flow if she twirled. 

Eddie’s breath hitched. His eyes flickered to her, then quickly down to the nightgown, his mind a little too distracted by the thought of seeing her in it. Oh my god, she looks amazing, even holding that thing up like it’s no big deal... He quickly pushed the thought aside, but his heart skipped a beat. "Nice," he said, a little too quickly. "That’s definitely fancier than my—well, my underwear."

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. Fancier? I’m just trying to be comfortable… but wow, he actually noticed. "Yeah, well, you’ll be fine in your own boxers," she said with a teasing smile. "Just get comfortable, Munson."

Eddie, still a little distracted by the sight of her in the nightgown, smiled and gave her a nod. God, I can’t wait to see her wear that.

"Alright, alright," Eddie said, his voice a little huskier than usual. "I’m gonna go change. Don’t worry, I’m making myself comfortable." As he walked off toward the bathroom, Eddie’s heart still pounded in his chest, anticipation hanging in the air like a sweet tension neither of them fully acknowledged—yet both could feel.

Her mind was already drifting, imagining him in just his boxers, stretching out on her bed, and her pulse quickened. This is gonna be a very interesting night.

As Eddie stepped into the bathroom, he quickly closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment to steady himself. His heart was still racing, a nervous excitement buzzing under his skin. Okay, Munson, you’ve got this. Just wash your face, get your shit together, and don’t act like a total idiot when you get back. He splashed some of her fancy cleanser onto his hands, massaging it into his face as he stared at himself in the mirror. Is this really happening? 

He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts swirling in his mind. Of course, it’s happening. She’s not gonna make me sleep in a freezing room. She offered it. Don’t freak out. Just play it cool. Don’t act like this is the first time a pretty girl has said you can crash in her bed, even though it is.

In her room, She stood in front of her mirror, gently brushing out her hair, the rhythmic motion soothing her nerves. Her thoughts, however, were anything but calm. I can’t believe I just said that. Did I really just casually suggest he could sleep in his underwear? 

She paused, catching her reflection in the mirror and giving herself a brief, amused glance. He’s here. I want him here. And this feels like... well, like something I’ve been hoping would happen.

She glanced down at the nightgown she’d slipped into, a soft cotton fabric that barely brushed her knees, the cool blue color feeling delicate against her skin. It’s just a nightgown, she reminded herself, but the flutter in her chest said otherwise. No big deal, right?

She tugged at the short frilly sleeves, smoothing them down, feeling her pulse quicken just thinking about Eddie returning.

Eddie stepped out of the bathroom, still drying his hands on a towel, but the moment he saw her, he stopped cold. She stood by the mirror, brushing her hair with slow, deliberate strokes, and the sight of her hit him like a truck.

God, she’s gorgeous. Like something out of a dream. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing to me right now.

She glanced over at him, catching his reflection in the mirror before turning to face him fully. “Hey,” she said, her voice light but carrying an undertone of something... softer.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying not to visibly gawk. He leaned casually against the doorframe, forcing a grin that he hoped didn’t look as shaky as he felt. “Well,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “looks like your pajamas win. Just my boxers can’t compete with... that.”

Her cheeks turned pink, but she held his gaze, her lips curling into a playful smile. “Guess I have better taste than you, Munson,” she teased, her confidence surprising even herself. But inside she was static. She looked him up and down 

Eddie chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to steady himself. “Yeah, well, if I’d known the competition was gonna be this stiff, I might’ve brought backup.”

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the mirror to set down her brush, but her smile lingered. Meanwhile, Eddie hesitated in the doorway, the playful smirk on his face betraying the nervous energy coursing through him. He rubbed his palms against the sides of his thighs and glanced at her, casually—but not really—trying to figure out his next move. He hadn’t been this nervous in ages.

“Alright, Angel,” he started, his voice carrying a teasing lilt, “what side of the bed am I claiming? Or are we flipping a coin for it?”

She laughed softly, turning from the mirror to face him fully. Her heart skipped at the sight of him standing there in just his boxers, his usual confidence somehow making the simple gesture of leaning against the frame look ridiculously attractive.

“The left,” she said, gesturing toward the bed. “That’s usually my side, but I’ll let you have it tonight.”

Eddie arched an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re giving up your side? That’s a big deal, Angel. I hope you know I don’t take this responsibility lightly.”

She rolled her eyes, climbing onto the bed and sliding under the covers. “You’re so dramatic,” she teased, fluffing her pillow. “But seriously, the left side is all yours.”

Eddie crossed the room and plopped onto the mattress, testing it out with exaggerated bounces. “Alright, not bad. Better than my van. You’ve got some luxury here.” He turned his head, flashing her a grin. “You sure about this, though? Sharing a bed with a wild card like me? I toss, turn, and talk in my sleep this could be dangerous.”

She smirked, pulling the blanket up to her chest. “I think I can handle it. Just don’t hog all the covers, and we’ll be fine.” He grinned, settling in as he tugged the blanket over himself. His bare arm brushed hers, and she couldn’t help but notice how warm his skin felt. A human furnace, for sure. The thought made her heart flutter.

As she lay there, Angel felt a rush of excited nerves spiraling through her. Eddie settled in beside her, and the small space between them felt charged with an energy she’d never experienced before. She glanced sideways, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes landed on his bare chest, perfectly defined and adorned in tattoos.

Holy hell, he looks good. She couldn’t help the warmth flooding her cheeks at the thought. 

Her heart raced as she shifted slightly, the sheets brushing against her skin. Seeing him in just his boxers made her pulse quicken in a way that had heat pooling low in her belly. 

This is Eddie. My friend Eddie. And here we are, sharing a bed like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Her mind raced with sudden images of what it would be like to lean in closer, to wrap her arms around him and feel every taut muscle under her touch. Just the idea made her core dampen in excitement.

 Is this really happening? Am I really lying here with him?

Eddie, on the other hand, was fighting his own wave of exhilaration. Being this close to her felt electric; her warmth, the soft scent of her hair, the way the sheets curled around her body. Everything was overwhelming in the best way. The moment he’d seen her in that nightgown, he felt a jolt of something primal, something he couldn’t quite place. She looks so beautiful, so inviting. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as they sat in the dim light, the soft shadows playing across her features. 

“Hey, you cold?” he asked. He could feel the way she shivered slightly, her skin just brushing against his arm. He had to suppress the warmth crawling through him at the thought of pulling her closer. “You know, if you need to, I could always offer my cuddling services,” he said, smirking as he waggled his eyebrows playfully. “I can be a professional snuggler. Consider it my personal mission to keep you warm tonight.”

Her pulse quickened at the suggestion. “Oh, really?” she replied, trying to sound casual. But inside, she was a flurry of thoughts, battling between wanting to take him up on it and pretending she was completely unaffected. “You think you can handle my cold touch?” 

Eddie laughed, the sound making her heart flutter again. “Trust me, Angel, by the end of the night, you’ll be the one begging for my warmth. Just you wait,” he said confidently. But his heart raced at the thought. This is it. She wants my warmth. She wants me to hold her. “Come on let me hold you, it’s a snowstorm out there; how can I let you freeze while I’m all toasty over here?” 

Angel could feel her cheeks heat at his words, excitement rushing through her like electricity. The way he said ‘hold you’ sent her mind spinning, and she wrestled with the desire to lay her head against his chest and feel his arms wrapped around her. Why does he have to make this so tantalizing? 

With a soft grin, she placed her head on the pillow directly next to him, inching closer. “Alright, snuggler, show me just how good you are at this.” Her voice came out a whisper, playful but carrying an undercurrent of sincerity that made Eddie's breath hitch.

He grinned, moving slightly closer, daring to let his bare skin make contact with hers. The warmth radiating from her felt amazing, and he could feel how beautifully soft she was against him. “Brace yourself,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “It’s about to get extra cozy in here.” He shifted, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her gently nearer, feeling her warmth seep into him. 

Angel melted into him, the softness of his body against hers sending a thrill through her. His heartbeat was steady and comforting, a rapid drum against hers. As his arm encircled her, she felt the tension slip from her body, replaced by the undeniable warmth of being so close to someone she’d grown attached to in ways she could never have anticipated. 

Eddie’s heart raced as he pulled her snugly against him, the heat radiating off her making his insides swirl. This is better than I ever could’ve imagined. The way she fit against him felt so right. He could hear the slight hitch in her breath, and it made the adrenaline rush through him even more. She’s here. Holding me, feeling this. “See?” he murmured, a satisfied grin on his face. “Told you I’d keep you warm.” But inside, he was screaming in delight. The way her body felt against his was overwhelming, and he tried to focus on holding it together. Don’t screw this up, Munson. Just enjoy this moment.

Her heart raced as she heard the thud of his laying so close in the dark. “Mmm Eddie you’re so warm. You feel so strong.” 

 Eddie felt a rush of warmth flood through him at her words, a grin spreading across his face. The way she nestled against him, gripping onto his arm like he was her lifeline, sent a thrill racing straight to his core. He could feel her breath tickle against his skin, and it was like he was on fire, mesmerized by how close they were.  “Yeah, well,” he said, his voice playful, yet laced with a newfound vulnerability, “I’ve got to keep you warm somehow.” As she snuggled closer, her cheek brushing against his, he fought to keep it together, even as butterflies erupted in his stomach. “Strong, huh?” he continued, tilting his head slightly to look at her, the proximity making it impossible for him to hold back the urge to lean in. “You sure you’re not just saying that to get me to flex or something?”

“Mmm, I might just need a demonstration,” she teased, giving his arm a playful squeeze. Her voice was light, but it belied the undercurrent of affection she felt for him. Being this close felt so natural, so electric, and she reveled in the warmth of his body. Something about the intimacy of the moment made her heart race; it was as if every inch of her was hyper-aware of his presence.

Eddie couldn't help but chuckle. “Oh, trust me, if it were flexing you wanted, I could definitely show you that,” he said, a hint of sarcasm dancing in his tone. “But for now, I think I’ll just let my warmth do the talking.” He shifted slightly, turning to face her more fully, allowing her to press against him as he wrapped his other arm around her. As he pulled her closer, he marveled at how it felt to hold her. Her body molded perfectly against his, the curve of her shoulder snug against his chest. She fit as if she were meant to be there.

“Better?” he asked softly, letting his cheek rest against her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her shampoo that was sweet with coconut and cherries—something that felt both invigorating and calming at once.

“Much better,” she murmured, a smile playing on her lips. “You really are the best at this, Eddie.” 

Eddie’s heart swelled. The way she spoke made it sound like he was achieving some kind of monumental feat, like being a master cuddler was a serious accomplishment. He tightened his grip around her, letting his fingers caress her shoulder lightly, the intimacy of it making him feel both bold and protective.

“Glad I could impress you,” he joked softly, trying to maintain a light tone while the weight of the moment pressed in around them. He couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was changing in that instant, their friendship evolving into something deeper, something undeniably thrilling. “You know, after this, I might get a bigger ego,” he added with a laugh, but his eyes held a sincerity that belied the humor. 

As she snuggled closer, burying her face against his neck, he couldn’t help but feel utterly captivated. “You’re too humble for your own good, Eddie,” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin, igniting a spark of something unnameable within him. It was a simple gesture, yet it unraveled him in ways he could never have anticipated. 

For him, the boundaries they’d once tiptoed around began to blur, and as he held her tightly, he realized that he never wanted to let her go. “Just don’t forget it” 

“How could I ever forget you Eddie? You're all I think about.” 

Eddie’s heart hammered against his ribcage, a rapid tempo that mirrored the storm brewing outside. She was right in front of him, a vision of confidence and desire, and he wanted her more than he could articulate. But even as he leaned in to kiss her, there was a subtle tremor in his hands, a physical manifestation of the anxiety swirling in his chest.

“Are you serious?” he asked, the words escaping his lips with a breathless urgency. Doubts flickered in his mind, but her gaze was unwavering, fiery, and absolute.

“Dead serious,” she replied, her voice sultry and sure.

Eddie's heart was still racing as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a soft, gentle kiss. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto hers in surprise. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled and replied, "I'm kissing you," before leaning in again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more intimate. Eddie felt a shiver run down his spine as her lips met his once more. He kissed her back, his lips moving tentatively at first, but as the moment deepened, he found himself getting lost in the sensation.

As they kissed, Eddie's initial uncertainty gave way to a growing sense of desire. His touches became bolder, exploring the curves of her body. He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer as their lips moved together in perfect sync. The fears and doubts that had plagued him just moments before began to melt away, replaced by a sense of excitement and anticipation.

As they devoured each other's lips, their hands began to wander, seeking out the curves and contours of each other's bodies. She reached for him, her fingers tracing around his hips, teasing the hem of his boxers with a tantalizing slowness. Meanwhile, his hands glided up her thigh, slowly inching her nightgown upward, exposing the silky smooth skin beneath.

His fingers danced across her butt, tracing the rounded shape with a gentle reverence. The touch sent shivers down her spine, and she responded by tightening her grip on his hips, her thumbs dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers to tease the sensitive skin beneath. Eddie's hands continued their exploration, slowly creeping up under her nightgown to tease at her sides. His fingertips grazed her skin, sending sparks of desire through her body. Finally, he found what he was searching for - her breasts - and he squeezed them gently, feeling their softness and weight in his palms. Her nipples hardened beneath his touch, and she moaned into his mouth as he caressed her. His thumbs began to circle her nipples, teasing them into tight buds as he squeezed and released her breasts in a gentle rhythm. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and she felt herself melting into his touch, her body arching into his hands as she begged for more. Just as it seemed like they were going to combust from the intensity of their passion, Eddie broke away from the kiss, his eyes locking onto hers with a hungry gaze. "Can I take this off?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he tugged gently on the hem of her nightgown. The question hung in the air like a challenge, waiting for her response as they both stood there panting with anticipation.

As she spoke the words, her voice was a sultry whisper, dripping with desire and submission. "You can do whatever you want to me, Eddie," she breathed, her eyes locked on him with a fierce intensity. The phrase was a dare, a challenge, and a promise all rolled into one, and it sent a shiver of excitement down Eddie's spine.

"I want you," he growled, his voice low and husky with need. "I want all of you." The fabric whispered against her skin as it rose higher and higher, exposing her curves and contours to Eddie's hungry gaze. He watched, mesmerized, as her breasts were revealed, followed by the gentle slope of her stomach and the curve of her hips. Finally, the nightgown was pulled over her head and discarded. 

Eddie's eyes drinking in the beauty of her body. He felt his desire surge to new heights as he gazed at her, his hands itching to touch and explore every inch of her skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his words barely audible over the sound of their ragged breathing.

As Eddie's eyes continued to drink in the beauty of her body, she began to squirm with anticipation, her skin tingling with desire. "Touch me," she whispered, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, Eddie, touch me."

Eddie's hands hovered over her skin, his fingers twitching with restraint. He wanted to touch her, to explore every inch of her body, but he was hesitant to take the next step. He didn't want to do anything that might make her uncomfortable.

"Touch me," she begged again, her voice growing more urgent. "I want to feel your hands on me."

Eddie's eyes met hers, searching for guidance. "How?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a sly smile that sent shivers down his spine. "Pull my panties down," she whispered.

Eddie's hands trembled as he reached for the waistband of her panties. He slowly pulled them down, exposing the soft skin beneath. She lifted, allowing him to slide the panties down her leg and discard them.

As soon as she was naked before him, she reached out and took his hand in hers. She guided it between her legs, placing his fingers against the soft folds of her skin. "Rub me here," she whispered, showing him how to gently circle his fingers around her clit.

Eddie watched in awe as she demonstrated how much pressure to apply, how fast or slow to move his fingers. She gasped with pleasure as he followed her instructions, his fingers dancing across her skin in a gentle rhythm.

As they laid there together, lost in the sensation of their bodies touching, she reached out and took Eddie's other hand in hers. She guided it between her legs once again, this time taking two of his fingers and placing them at the entrance of her opening.

"You can put them inside me," she whispered, looking up at him with eyes that were dark with desire.

Eddie hesitated for a moment before gently pushing his fingers into her body. As they slid inside of her warm flesh ,she let out a moan of pleasure and wrapped herself tightly around him . As Eddie's fingers slid deeper into her, she began to rock her hips back and forth, her body trembling with pleasure. He watched in awe as she moved against him, her eyes closed in ecstasy.

"More," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of their ragged breathing. "I want more."

He looked up at her, his eyes wide with wonder. His fingers are still figuring out a rhythm "You like that?" he asked breathlessly. 

Angel nodded, her hips moving against his hand. “Yes Eddie, feels good, keep going," she urged, her voice husky with need. But then she saw the confusion in his eyes and realized he wasn't sure what to do next. So she took matters into her own hands, reaching down and guiding him inside her.

Eddie groaned at the feeling of his fingers being enveloped by her warmth. God it's so tight. I hope I'm not hurting her. I'm gonna try curling my fingers. 

He started to move, slow at first, not wanting to hurt her. But as she began to respond, her moans growing louder, he found his rhythm. “You sound so pretty for me sweetheart”

Hearing how desperate and hot Eddie sounded was almost too much. “Eddie please... feels good”

"So wet," he murmured. His fingers curled slightly, mimicking the action he'd take once inside her. "You're so tight and warm."

Angel whimpered, already aching for his touch. She wanted him to make her feel even better than her own hand could. "Faster," she begged breathlessly. "I need it."

"Mmm you’re so hot," Eddie replied, his words filled with desire. He sped up sliding two fingers between her folds, eliciting a gasp from her lips. "So slippery and soft," he praised, his voice barely above a whisper. His finger began to pump in and out of her, the friction causing her clit to pulse. Her hips started to move on their own, seeking more pressure. 

Angel reached down and wrapped her hand around his wrist, slowing him down. Grinding down on his fingers. “Focus on my clit and just tease my opening eds. Please. It feels so good”

Eddie listened, quickly pumping his fingers inside her and using the other to rub her clit, “Like that?” he huffed out.

Angel’s head fell back and her moans filled the room. “Oh! Eddie Yes! Just like that. Please. Please. I’m gonna cum.” Angel’s body arched off the bed as Eddie's thumb rubbed hard circles her clit while his fingers continued to tease her swollen entrance. The sensation was enough to send a powerful wave of pleasure through her entire being. She could feel her orgasm building, growing stronger with each flick and slide of his fingers. "Yes! Oh god, yes!" she cried out, her voice thick with desire.

Eddie smiled, watching her reaction, and continued to pleasure her exactly how she asked. He followed into her reactions learning just how to push her to the edge, making her writhe beneath him. His thumb danced across her sensitive nub, while his fingers played at her opening, torturously not giving her what she craved, but driving her wild with need all the same.

"Cum on my fingers, Angel," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

She let out a strangled moan, her hips bucking against his hand. "I... I'm so close," she panted, her nails digging into his arm. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release.

"That's it, baby, don't hold back," he encouraged, increasing the pressure on her clit. "Let go. I've got you."

With a final flick, he sent her over the edge. Her back arched a silent scream leaving her lips as pure bliss exploded through her. Her walls fluttered around his fingers, pulsing in rhythmic waves as she rode out her climax.

As Eddie watched Angel's face contort in ecstasy, he couldn't help but get lost in the sight of her. She looked like a beautiful goddess, her body writhing and shaking as her internal muscles gripped his fingers. The feeling was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, completely addictive.

Angel finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily. Eddie could see how worked up she still was, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath. He couldn't take his eyes off her, drinking in the sight of her flushed skin and messy hair.

"Wow, that was something else," he said softly, still lost in thought. 

Angel smiled at him, a warm and inviting expression that seemed to light up her entire face. 

"It was incredible," she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You have some skills, Eddie."

He winked at her playfully. "I'm glad my technique is improving." 

Angel let out a soft laugh and reached for him, pulling him down into a deep kiss. Their tongues danced together, tasting and exploring each other's mouths. Eddie could feel his arousal growing with each passing second, his cock hardening and pressing against her thigh.

When they finally broke apart, Angel looked down between them, her eyes widening as she took in the sizable bulge straining against Eddie's boxers. She licked her lips hungrily, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I think it's time I returned the favor," she purred, her hand sliding over to palm his erection through the thin fabric. "I want to make sure you feel good to Eds. I want to feel your cock in mouth."

Eddie gasped in surprise at her bold words, his eyes widening as he took in the sultry look on her face. He'd never heard Angel talk so dirty before, and it sent a shiver down his spine. The combination of her sweet, innocent demeanor and these naughty, filthy words falling from her lips was intoxicating.

"God, Angel," he panted, his voice strained with desire. "You keep talking like that and I might just explode before you even get started."

She smirked up at him, enjoying the effect she was having. "Is that a challenge?" she teased, her fingers tracing the outline of his cock through his boxers.

Eddie shuddered, feeling himself throb under her touch. "It might be," he admitted, his breathing growing heavier by the second.

Angel didn't waste any more time. She tugged his boxers down, his aching cock springing free. It was thick with a pink tip glistening from all the precum. 

Eddie watched, mesmerized, as Angel wrapped her hand around his length, her hands made him look so big he thought.

She gave him a gentle squeeze, then stroked him upward, her palm gliding over the smooth skin. The sensation was incredible, sending ripples of pleasure through his entire body. 

"Ah, yes," she whispered, her voice husky and full of promise. "This is what I'm talking about."

With that, she leaned forward, her mouth opening to take him in. Eddie felt a jolt of electricity run through him as her lips closed around the head of his cock, the warmth and wetness enveloping him like a dream. He was lost in the sensation, his hips bucking reflexively into her mouth.

Angel moaned softly, the vibrations running up his shaft and making his balls tingle. She began to move her head in a slow, sensual rhythm, her tongue darting out to taste him.

"Holy fuck, Angel," Eddie groaned, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair. "Your mouth feels amazing." He could hardly believe this was happening, that the sweet girl he'd known was now on her knees in front of him, sucking his cock like a pro. The sight alone was almost enough to make him cum right then and there.

"Look at you," he panted, his voice rough with lust. "You’re so fucking sexy, taking my dick like that. You like it, don't you? Like having me in your pretty little mouth." he whimpered out desperately.It was obvious he was losing himself in the pleasure and babbling nonsense. 

Angel hummed in response, the sound sending shivers down his spine. She picked up the pace, her head bobbing faster as she took him deeper. Her cheeks hollowed with the effort, creating a delicious suction that made Eddie's toes curl.

"Damn, sweetheart, you're going to make me cum if you keep doing that," he warned, his breath hitching. "But I don't want it to end yet."

She pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva connecting her lips to the tip of his cock. "Then maybe we should try something different," she suggested, a sly smile playing on her lips. "

Angel laid down on the mattress, “C’mere Eds”

Eddie was excited but also nervous, some of his confidence from just a second ago leaving him, he placed himself between her legs, hovering over her and leaned down to kiss her on the head.  “Tell me if it hurts or if I do something wrong.” she nodded.

He reached between their bodies and grasped himself, pumping it in his hand a few times, lining it up with her opening. He rubbed circles around her opening with his tip. This made her moan, then with a gentle push he inched into her slowly wet heat. She felt tight and silky smooth around him, her inner muscles clutching at him as he filled her completely.  Angel’s breath quickened as Eddie’s movements intensified. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body, stoking the fire within her.  "Faster," she gasped, arching her hips to meet his. "Don't hold back."

Eddie growled low in his throat, picking up the pace. The room filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and skin slapping against skin. Sweat glistened on their bodies as they writhed together, lost in the throes of passion.

Angel wrapped her legs around Eddie’s waist, urging him deeper inside her. She could feel every ridge and vein of his hard length stretching her, filling her completely. The pressure was delicious, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure.

"Eddie!" she cried out, feeling herself nearly there. With one final thrust, she exploded in a powerful orgasm, her body shuddering beneath him.

"Oh my God, Angel," he panted, his eyes closing briefly as pleasure washed over him. "You feel so fucking good."

Eddie groaned deeply, the sound muffled by her neck where he buried his face. His body tensed and shuddered as he followed her over the edge, he pulled out, spilling himself onto her stomach. 

Both panting heavily as they tried to catch their breath. Slowly, reality seeped back in - the feeling of sweat cooling on their skin, the scent of sex thick in the air. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then laid beside her. As their bodies slowly relaxed after the moment they had just shared, Eddie's body trembled unexpectedly. It started with a slight shiver, then gradually grew more pronounced, his muscles involuntarily twitching. His chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, but something about the vulnerability of the moment made his whole body shake.

Angel noticed immediately, her brows furrowing in concern. "What’s wrong Eddie, you're shaking?" she asked softly, her voice laced with a tenderness that matched the care in her eyes.

Eddie didn’t respond at first, his body still shivering, his fingers curling against the bed. He tried to hide it with a forced laugh, but it came out shaky. "I….I don’t know ." 

Without hesitation, Angel pulled him closer, her hand gently rubbing his back in soothing circles. She kissed his shoulder lightly, her voice full of reassurance. "You don’t have to be tough with me, Eddie. It's okay to feel... whatever you're feeling."

Eddie let out a shaky breath, his body still trembling in her arms. He swallowed hard, trying to find the words, but his voice was a little off like he couldn't quite gather his thoughts. "I don’t know what’s happening. It's like... my body’s just freaking out."

Angel continued to hold him, her hands tracing his skin with a comforting rhythm. "It's okay," she whispered again, her voice soft as she pulled him even closer, her warmth radiating against his. "It’s normal, you’re safe. I’m here."

He clung to her, the tremors beginning to slow, his breathing finding some steadiness as she whispered words of comfort. Eventually, the shaking stopped, and he exhaled deeply, the weight of everything finally sinking in.

"I just like you so much," he murmured again, but this time, there was a deeper sincerity in his tone. "I... I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Angel smiled softly, her hand brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. "You don’t have to know," she said gently. "I’m right here, I’m with you Eddie."

As Eddie’s breathing finally steadied, a crooked grin crept onto his face, though his cheeks still carried a faint flush. He looked at Angel, his eyes warm and glinting with mischief.

 "You know," he said, his voice still a little shaky but laced with humor, "when the snow clears, I think I need to head to the post office."

Angel blinked, confused for only a split second before realization dawned on her. She narrowed her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "You’re not seriously talking about sending me a letter like Lloyd Dobler, are you?"

Eddie chuckled, the grin spreading wider as he tilted his head back against the pillow. "Busted," he admitted, the laughter in his voice easing the last bit of tension lingering in the room. "But hey, if it worked for Lloyd..."

Angel rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t suppress the smile that followed. "You’re ridiculous," she teased, nudging him lightly. "Do you even know what you’d write in that letter?"

He shrugged, a mock-serious expression crossing his face. "Something profound. Like, ‘You’re amazing, and I’ll stand outside your window with a boombox any day.’"

She laughed, the sound bright and genuine as she leaned into him. "Oh, you’re full of it," she said, shaking her head fondly. "But you know what? I wouldn’t mind getting a letter like that."

Eddie’s grin softened into something more tender as he looked at her, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. "Noted," he said, his voice low. "But I think I’ll stick to telling you in person. Feels more... us."

Angel’s smile widened, and she rested her head against his chest again, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "That’s perfect," she whispered, her fingers lightly tracing patterns on his skin. "Just don’t expect me to buy you a boombox."

Eddie laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Deal," he said, holding her tighter.

Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments/tags

[lanormie]

sims 4 isekai! where you wake up to find yourself in the game in one of those basic ass base game houses.

you haven't even got the chance to explore your surrounding when all of a sudden-

ding dong!

it's the welcome wagon.

you open the front door and almost pass the fuck out when you see gojo satoru, geto suguru and nanami kento standing in front of you, looking utterly confused.

"hey! so," gojo speaks first, "silly question! uh, where are we?"

you're just about to open your mouth to reply when geto jolts, an interaction menu spawning around him. based on the look on everyone's face, seems like they can all see the UI.

the floating cursor clicks on Invite In, and some mysterious force ushers you four into your barren living room.

nanami looks at the plate of fruitcake apprehensively before setting it down on your coffee table, then immediately makes a beeline for your computer. "please pardon my rudeness," he stammers while booting up your PC, "i promise this is not my doing."

you assure him that it is fine before turning around to find gojo rummaging through your fridge. "this is amazing!" he exclaims, "every time i think of a dish the ingredients just appear in front of me!"

while watching a plethora of mixing bowls and cutting boards pile up on the counters, you see geto jolt again. the cursor starts queuing up interactions, and you can clearly see that the player very obviously wants you to flirt with him.

"i'm sorry in advance," you squeeze in an apology while you both make your way to the ratty uncomfy couch. "i have a feeling i'm about to say something completely unhinged."

"it's alright, i understand." geto gives you a kind smile, and you feel your heart do some Olympics level somersaults.

you totally get the player now.

the queue kicks in as soon as your ass touches the couch, and you blurt out, "hoo boy if this isn't the finest piece of ass i've ever seen-"

your eyes widen in mortification before you even finish getting the sentence out. slapping your hand over your mouth, you look across the couch, preparing yourself for whatever wrath your unintentional brashness has brought forth.

to your surprise, geto just peers amusedly at you with a corner of his lips quirked up, looking about half a step away from a bursting into a cackle.

over his head, a tiny love heart with a plus sign pops up for a moment before disappearing into thin air.

you end up talking to geto on the couch (nanami would turn around in his seat to join in the chat once in a while) for what seems like hours before catching the sight of gojo waving wildly from behind the counter.

"guys," gojo pouts, pointing at a single cutting board sitting on the ground, "i can't move."

(here's part 2!)

[xoxochb]

can we have all the boys x psyche reader!!!

— pretty in pink ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: none pairing: riordanverse boys x daughter of psyche a/n: added my bby connor to the list 😊

percy jackson thinks you’re quite literally an angel sent straight from elysium. not only does this contain your sensitive, gentle, and kind nature, but additionally your goddess-like features that seem just as delicate as your personality, almost like a fragile porcelain doll. I’m talking, this boy is full on WHIPPED ready to drop everything for you at any moment, especially with your ever changing eyes— which by the way he ADORES!! they change based on your mood so he’s easily able to tell how you’re feeling— but not only your eyes absolutely everything about you, he’s totally addicted. not only can you be the sweetest, you can also be horrifying. sure, you’re nice and all, easily forgiving people, but when someone isn’t nice back, rude for no specific reason it’s literally over for them. mostly, percy has to refrain you from harming them in anyway, and with your kind heart you let him tear you away to leave the poor person alone. but also he’s percy jackson, you’d much rather spend your time with him than an idiot who’s not worth anything

connor stoll is not only interested in you, but your ability to see people’s aura. like, literally when he found out you were able to do this he was bombarding you with silly questions: “what color am I?” “what does this color mean” “are we soulmates” he’s VERY big on the whole soulmate situation, it’s probably not a normal obsession but in his defense he adores you more than anything. you tell him ‘yes’ we are soulmates, which isn’t a lie you saw it as clear as day, and he’s ecstatic like literally going around camp bragging how the stunning daughter of psyche is his soulmate!! (he’s skipping around camp and shit it’s cutesy). at this point in time I just know he starts planning out your wedding, he’s probably got a whole notebook of shit stashed under his pillow to hide from his sneaky siblings (that totally failed, they found it and teased him for it. he still continued planning regardless of this)

jason grace LOVES your butterfly abilities. hear me out: children of psyche have the power to wish themselves butterfly wings!! the first time he saw this he probably thought he was hallucinating, because what do you mean his girlfriend is a partial butterfly?? he confronted you about this later and you explained to him that since that specific bug was one of your mothers symbols that you were granted wings as a gift. you showed him now, completely with him creepily watching you from afar and he’s full on HEART EYES it’s so cutesy!!! and OH MY GODS with both of you having flying powers just, like, imagine flying around camp together?? it’s literally adorable!! anyways, not only do you have this ability but also telekinesis! jason thinks this is cool as fuck, how you can move things with your mind (okay, eleven!). you definitely do this to tease him like imagine if he’s trying to pick something up and you keep moving it LMAO he can’t even get mad at you either, he loves you too much for that (this is definitely being used to your full advantage)

leo valdez probably used you as his own personal therapist of a girlfriend. I mean, he’s got problems we know this, and who better to tend to them than his daughter of psyche girlfriend??? he’s not using you just for this, but you offer up mostly for him to talk and with your welcoming demeanor it’s hard for him not to collapse in your arms and pour his heart out (plus he trusts you like crazy). and you always make him feel comfortable, it’s almost like he’s known you his whole life (which he wishes he had), because he’s able to talk to you about things he never would’ve spoken to anyone else about. and you can always sense when he’s not feeling well so sometimes you’ll bring him to your cabin and ask him what’s wrong, even if it’s nothing you like to know that he’s okay!

luke castellan knew that you would get along with him easily, because his father had guided your mother when she was a mortal, there was always that special bond between the two. and he totally wasn’t wrong, your colors were bound together into a tangle (this is what you said to him). though for a while you distanced yourself off because being a daughter of psyche has its downsides. you’re practically an oracle, seeing into the minds of others and basically seeing into the near future, for you, you saw the outcome of camp (how he would steal the master bolt and side with kronos). for two reasons being you were utterly worried he would hurt you, and also, nobody would like it if you went on the bad side during the war. eventually luke got you out of this state and explained his situation, you understood easily where his intentions came from, but told him you would not be able to be with him if this was his decision. so, he proposed an ultimatum: he wouldn’t drag you into his mess or speak about it with you if it was this bothersome. in response, you agreed to it, you’d find that he would keep his word even when things got terrible. after he left camp he would sneak visits to see you even though risky, and for that moment, he found peace

[anakinstwinklebunny]

bunny oh my heavens you're such an amazing writer like I stumbled upon your account and I'm obsessed rn. Like I read all of Teen Dad Sam Monroe and I was gagged when I realized I finished it so quickly-

So I was thinking if we could get a background story about how Sam Monroe and reader met? Or about how Sam was there while reader was pregnant? Ofc totally up to you queen

🦇 - bat anon

Author's note: YAUYUYYY WELCOME 🦇 NONNIE IN BUNNY'S FAMILY‼️‼️ tysm for all the kind words, hugging you tight till we both can't breathe 🙂‍↕️😝

You weren’t supposed to be his type. Too sweet, too cheerful, too goddamn put-together for someone like SAM MONROE, who barely survived each day and bitterness was like his second skin. He didn’t even notice you at first--why would he? You were everything good, everything bright, and he? Well, he was the guy skipping class, chain-smoking behind the school, and growling at anyone who dared look at him too long.

But you? You were relentless all the damn time. Not in an annoying way tho, but in a way that scratched at his walls without him even realizing. You’d smile at him in class, offer him notes he didn’t ask for, and one day, when he was sketching aimlessly during a particularly boring lecture, you’d leaned over and whisper, “That’s really good. Do you do this often?”

It threw him off, the softness in your voice, the way you didn’t seem disgusted in him or scared like everyone else. He’d shrugged, mumbling something about “just messin’ around,” and waited for you to look away. But you didn’t. You kept looking, asking questions, smiling like you weren’t sitting next to the grumpiest asshole in school.

But Sam wasn’t the kind of guy you were supposed to talk to, let alone fall for. He was trouble--every teacher at school said it, every kid whispered it. He walked the halls with that slouched, pissed-off posture, earbuds in. He didn’t care about his reputation, and he sure as hell didn’t care about people around him.

But you? You weren’t scared of him, and that pissed him the most.

Leaving the school's building you caught him behind the bleachers, a cigarette between his fingers, time to time between his lips while he sketched on the back of some crumpled notebook paper. Of course, Sam could feel you standing there like you saw a ghost yet, he didn't dare to look up at you, simply confronting you in the grumpiest way possible about your staring problem “What? Come to tell me I’m ruining my life?” he exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Not really,” you said simply, voice calm as you stepped closer, leaning against the railing. “Just wondering what you’re drawing this time.”

That made him pause. Blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, suspicion written all over his face. But when you didn’t laugh or tease him like everyone else, he shoved the paper in his pocket without a care it would probably be destroyed afterwards “Nothin’. Just some stupid house.”

“You gonna build it someday?”

Sam blinked, caught completely off guard. “Maybe,” he muttered, shrugging like it didn’t matter. But for the first time, someone had seen past the walls he’d put up, and it scared him just as much as it intrigued him.

---

After a few weeks of you making a small talk with him, being super nice and super sweet, Sam himself began to try to make a small talk. Yet, he didn’t like how much he started looking forward to seeing you each day. It just felt..weird.. dangerous, to let someone like you get so close to him. But still he couldn't help it when you'd catch him in the hall, offering a soft smile that always made his stomach twist in a way he couldn’t explain. He’d walk you home after school, even if it meant dealing with the nosy neighbors who always gave him side-eye for his, in their opinion, demonic style.

And when more time passed, it turned into a thing--you and him. You’d sit with him at lunch, even when he would mutter, “Don’t you have better people to hang out with?” You’d drag him to study sessions, ignoring his protests that “school’s a waste of time.” And slowly, he stopped fighting it. He even looked out to all those meetings with you. To share classes with you he hated so much. To have you drag him to the library, the place he'd never been in, and help him study, help him learn.

Around you, he immediately softened--no, he wasn’t sweet, not in the traditional sense at least, but he had this gruff affection that came through in little ways. Like how he’d stand between you and a group of loud guys at lunch, glaring until they finally shut up. Or how he’d hand you his hoodie without a word if you so much as shivered and even force you to put it on, not taking any buts and no's for an answer

He didn’t smile much, but you caught that he started doing this thing where he’d smirk whenever you said something dumb or tripped over your words. He also started waiting for you by your locker, even if he pretended like it was no big deal. And when some jerk made a snide comment about you “slumming it” with Sam, he’d take care of it in his own way

---

So it wasn’t long before you were more than just friends. He kissed you for the first time in his car after a late-night drive. It was awkward--his lips chapped, hands clumsy. First sex came year later, in his room while his parents were out of the town with his stepbrothers.

He didn't last eight second.

You’d expected him to bolt, honestly. That’s what everyone said he’d do--Sam Monroe, the screw-up, the guy who never took anything seriously. But instead, he stayed. Although he did pace the length of your room, he did run his hands through his hair, and he did mutter curses all over, “Shit, shit, shit,” under his breath. "I fucking pulled out! I---i swear!! This fucking isn't real..I-im only seventeen for God's sake" he groaned, anxiously sitting on the edge of your bed

You didn't really use much protection..You just trusted when Sam would say he pulled out in time or use some old condom his friend gave him. So when your period was getting late, when you out of the sudden had nausea..you took the damned test. Out of sanity of your overthinking mind. But hell, did you prepare yourself for it to be positive..

The first time you told Sam you were pregnant, he froze. Like, fully stopped breathing, face going pale as he stared at you. “You’re… what?” voice cracking in a way that would’ve been funny if the situation wasn’t so serious.

“Ehm--wha--what do you want to do?” he asked, voice quiet, almost scared, eyes finally locking with yours. And when you said you wanted to keep it, he nodded, exhaled, hide his face in his hands with jaw tight. “Okay..um... okay..Then-- we’ll--figure it out, I guess..But I need time to think, alright?”

---

Sam threw himself into trying to figure it out. He started taking an odd jobs, fixing up cars for cash and doing whatever he could to scrape together some money. He hated asking his mom for help, even more his stepdad, but when it came to you and the baby, he swallowed his pride.

But still, he was himself in all of that--grumpy, sarcastic, and stubborn as hell. “You’re not eating that,” he’d grumble when he saw you reaching for something unhealthy, swatting it out of your hand and replacing it with an apple. But then, a few hours later, you’d find your favorite snacks hidden in your bag because he couldn’t stand to see you looking so upset.

Sam didn’t suddenly become the perfect boyfriend—damn, he never was---but he tried. He took on extra shifts at some crappy diner, even though he hated every second of it. He’d show up at your house with random things, like pickles and ice cream, grumbling, “Dunno if you wanted this, but whatever.”

He argued with his mom constantly about the baby, about how he was going to be a dad at such young age..

But it wasn’t all bad. Sometimes, late at night, he’d lie next to you, hand splayed over your belly, whispering, “Hey, little dude" (he was sure as heck it was going to be a boy) "It’s your dad....or whatever.. you're just my sperm..But..Don’t give your mom too much trouble, yeah?” He’d laugh quietly, breath warm against your tummy “She’s already got enough dealing with me.”