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yourdoorisunlocked · 4 months

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What A Dish, What A Doll! - Part 4

𝐀/𝐍: I am SO GLAD that I got this out sooner- istg this was going to be SO MUCH LONGER but after extensive writing and editing, I finally found a flow that I vibe with, and I'm really excited for you all to read this one.

Happy reading :)

. . .

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒,𝟏𝟕𝟖 𝐍𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒍𝒚 𝑫𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑻𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑶𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒂 𝑵𝒆𝒘𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏

. . .

The weeks following your rendezvous at the diner passed by in a flurry, leaving you in a delighted tizzy as you and Alastor grew ever closer to one another. You couldn’t even count on both hands how many times he had spontaneously swept you off of your feet and pulled you into whatever shenanigans the cheeky radio star had in store.

It was exhausting, but being with him was exhilarating all the same.

And you could already tell you were in for quite the afternoon as he jaunted out of the recording booth, enthusiasm rolling off of him in waves.

“Well, hello to you too, Al’,” you smiled and took off your headphones as Alastor straightened his bowtie with a haughty smirk, and you rolled your eyes. That man was ever the cocky one whenever you paid him a visit to his recording booth, as you never failed to shower him with compliments and applause at his performance.

And seeing your awestruck face as you leaned towards the glass always made him more inclined to put on a show, just for you.

“You were amazing out there, as always, of course,” Alastor chuckled and waved a hand dramatically in the air as if you’d said something completely preposterous. Praising Alastor was practically treason for you; the man simply could not take a compliment.

“Oh, how you flatter me! I’m just doing my job, darling,” even oblivious little you could see that he was preening with pride, though your captivated stare trained on none other than him was all the praise Alastor would ever need.

“That was great, Al’! One of your best performances, if I do say so, myself!” Your supervisor beamed with his hands on his hips, clearly as excited as Alastor, though for entirely different reasons.

The radio host was still reeling with joy from the fiery sensation of your bewitched gaze adoringly trained on him, tracing his soft, handsome features with yearning eyes.

He stole every glance at you throughout the broadcast that he could subtly manage; how your lips parted softly whenever Alastor spoke so boldly with his hands, how animated he seemed in the recording booth.

He noticed your quiet, melodic laughter that he practically breathed, the smile that he one dreamed of kissing, laying his lips against your warmth like he had captured sunlight itself between his teeth-

“I think you should be here during recordings more often,” the young, spiffing producer muttered as he leaned over to you, leaving you in bashful laughter. Alastor narrowed his eyes slightly at the proximity, and he held no hesitation to step between you two and snake an arm around your shoulder.

“Well, my dear, I believe this week’s recent success calls for a celebration! Hugo, I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short. I’ve planned an afternoon for me and the lady, here,” his usual smile returned, and you could feel Alastor relax as his hand fell down your forearm, grasping it with a firm yet comfortable grip.

Hugo raised a knowing eyebrow, his eyes switching between you two as he shrugged his shoulders. “I see how it is. Givin’ ol’ Hugo the boot, huh?” He opened the door for Alastor, taking a slight bow as the radio host guided you outside one of the studio’s many broadcasting rooms.

“I get it. I’ll stay out of your way, Al’. Just treat her right, ya’ hear?” Hugo nudged Alastor’s arm, and you could feel your friend stiffen as his hand clenched your arm tighter than before, though he laughed the discomfort off with an even wider grin. But a small glimpse of his gums told you all you needed to know.

“Oh, no, no, no! We’re nothing like that!” You shook your head vigorously as you subtly put yourself between him and your supervisor. “He’s just so good to me, you know? Such a good friend to have, especially with that slasher running around,” you shuddered for emphasis.

Hugo raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, really? Heh, could’ve fooled me.” Striking teal eyes flickered to said radio host, whose smile had stiffened significantly to the point of looking almost painful. You shot down the very idea that you two could ever be in a relationship, though he did appreciate your interception from the unwanted physical contact.

But did you truly resent the idea of being with him that much?

“He’s just so kind, and he cooks like a real professional, too!” You practically sang Alastor’s praises as Hugo strode beside you two with his arms crossed while you walked through the studio, attempting a hasty getaway out the door and whisked away to be with each other in peace.

“That so?” Hugo was gauging Alastor’s every reaction to your words, clearly not buying the fact that you two weren’t together, or at the very least, not interested in one another.

An unrequited love, perhaps? But this broad’d off her rocker not to fall for a guy like him.

You nodded vigorously at your supervisor as you walked with Alastor toward the exit. “A real sweet talker, too. Y’know, Al’, you could teach Hugo here a thing or two,” when your hand wrapped around his and squeezed, and all the built-up tension was suddenly released from his form.

Alastor’s smile softened into something a bit more genuine as he looked down at you.

“Aren’t you just darling? Almost makes me want to spoil my little surprise for you,” he tapped your nose with a wide grin, reveling in how you blinked in surprise before blushing and turning your head away.

“Oh, you’ll be the one getting a surprise if you don’t stop with your nonsense...” You grumbled before waving to Hugo on your way out of the studio. “Have a good day, Hugo!”

Once you crossed the threshold, the strawberry-blonde waved you off with a knowing smirk and a raised eyebrow as Alastor glanced back at him. He could already see the gears turning in the young producer’s head.

Well, God save him if he got any ideas and started meddling where he wasn’t supposed to, like a certain acquaintance of his...

Once you arrived in the parking lot, you pulled away from Alastor’s side so that you could enter the passenger seat of his car. The winter chill that had settled in the seats left you shivering, and you turned over to Alastor with a shudder and a wobbly smile.

“Tough weather, huh? God, what I’d give for a hot chocolate...”

What kind of man could he call himself if he left his darling trembling like a leaf in the wind, left to the unforgiving elements?

Without any kind of hesitation, Alastor slipped off his jacket and lent it to you, despite your insistent protests. He had considered you before himself too much, and you really weren’t that cold, the car would heat up soon, and-

“Take it, my dear. I can’t have you freezing before you meet my dear friend, after all,” Alastor carefully leaned over, his glasses slipping towards the edge of his pointed nose as he laid the jacket upon you.

His carnivorous, half-lidded gaze devoured an eyeful of you as he pretended to be meticulously positioning the jacket on you, his fingers ghosting each curve of your waist, the give of your belly, tracing along the chub of your hips, your love handles. The lustful thoughts that seeped in with Alastor’s touch nearly broke his resolve to restrain himself, as his yearning gaze lingered around your womb.

Alastor quickly sat back into his seat and buckled his own seatbelt before inserting his car keys into the hole, gripping them with whitening knuckles.

“Thanks for the jacket. I was freezing over here,” you sighed and shivered in your seat.

“Don’t mention it, darling,” the words smoothly fell off of his lips, as if he wasn’t mentally bashing himself for touching you like that, though each advance he held himself back from went unnoticed by you as you relaxed into the leather-clad car seat.

The aroma of bittersweet pine and cinnamon overwhelmed your senses, and Alastor’s scent made you relax considerably as you snuggled into the jacket.

You had been running around, taking orders and checking things off your task list all morning, only looking forward to Alastor’s broadcast the most that day. His soothing voice nearly lulled you to sleep, but you forced yourself awake, out of respect.

The last tender words he spoke to you as you slept the car ride away, snoozing peacefully even as it came to a full stop in front of Alastor’s destination.

You looked so peaceful, so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable tucked into his jacket, away from the prying eyes of the world and within his arms.

How he wished your paths had crossed before everything that had happened, before Alastor’s infamously heinous deeds as the New Orleans Slasher.

And how he wished his mother could’ve met you.

Alastor admired your dozing form for a few more minutes, before starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot and driving away into the bleak gray mist that had fallen over the city.

. . .

“We’re here, darling.” Like a switch, his voice instantly pulled you from your nap, and you groaned and stretched with a yawn.

“Come along now. You don't want me to be late for my meeting, do you?” Alastor’s voice, normally at the highest volume possible, had fallen into a quiet, tender whisper as he gently knocked on the window, rousing you awake.

“Oh, Alastor,” you mumbled sleepily, “Are we here already?” You rubbed your drooping eyes as he chuckled and slowly pulled you out of the vehicle.

“Why, yes, we are darling. And I want you to be fully awake for when you meet my friend, now, so chop-chop!” He carefully situated his jacket onto your shoulders, and you both plundered through the snowy streets towards the sidewalks, where various shops and stores sat snug and warm and sheltering their inhabitants from the biting cold that nipped at your nose and pinched your cheeks with frostbite.

Alastor steadied you upon the ice with careful hands snaked around your waist, though all it did was make you nearly slip from the surprise contact. He was getting particularly touchy, lately. Not that you were complaining.

And who were you to complain of the fine, slender fingers, twisting and resting upon you, sharing their warmth and affection, when you clearly craved Alastor’s touch so? When your yearning gazes became more and more frequent with each passing day.

You shook your head of such impish thoughts as you and Alastor strode closer to the row of quaint stores and shops.

“Ah, yes. This is the place,” you glanced from the nearly identical red brick buildings to the particular one that Alastor had stopped at.

A delicate, thin line of cursive was masterfully inscribed upon a large hanging sign, reading, “𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮'𝓼 𝓑𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓮,” in a muted cerise pink.

Your eyes scanned the fine chiffon-paned windows with wide eyes. Intricate designs lined with frills and lace stood proudly behind the glass, looking to be of Victorian descent, a more dignified, esteemed time of elegance.

The high frilled collars and waist-choking corsets made you inwardly cringe as you and Alastor walked up the steps, and your uncertainty quickly faded when you stepped inside the boutique.

It looked like a classical, cozy little parlor ripped straight out of a storybook, with a large grandfather clock in the corner and a row of bookshelves standing grandly beside a luxurious sofa chair, covered in dust and peeling slightly in some places, hinting at the age of the relic.

The small ding of a bell rang once the door opened, and it was soon accompanied by a pair of quick footsteps heading down the hallway as a woman called out from behind the hardwood archway that seemed inappropriate for a clothing store. At least, that was what you had assumed it to be in the first place.

“I’ll be right there! Don’t you move an inch, now!” The voice carried a welcoming lilt, like an old friend that you had gotten into trouble with more than several times in primary school.

You peeked out from the small waiting area you had stepped into and were blessed with the sight of rows and rows of opulent, elegant dresses flooded the store that you were sure would have your wallet weeping should you dare to try paying for any of them.

“Sorry to keep you waiting like that, I was just busy with another customer. Now, what can I do for you?”

You blinked in surprise, entirely not expecting the sight of the stately lady before you. Her face was kind, perhaps a bit playful, despite her imposing stature and air of sophisticated elegance she carried.

She was the spitting image of each design that she precariously crafted, like a well-knowing yet mischievous auntie that you could sit down and chat over a cup of tea with for hours.

“Uh, well,” you looked to Alastor, but he simply smiled down at you, being of absolutely no help whatsoever. “Well, he said that we were just here to meet a friend, so you should ask him,” narrowing your eyes at the cheeky radio host, who was probably getting a kick out of your discomfort, you pointed up at Alastor.

The owner – presumably Rosie – blinked, her already ghost-like complexion somehow turning even paler as she laid eyes on Alastor, who stood behind you with a smile full of teeth.

“Oh, Alastor! Is that really you?” You reeled back in surprise as Rosie took him by the shoulders and spun around a few times with a wide, somehow shark-like beam.

“Oh, it has been ages since I’ve seen you that I nearly didn’t recognize you! Just where have you been!?” Rosie gushed over him as she placed a hand to her heart, flashing a smile full of teeth to the radio host.

You looked between them with a bewildered expression. You thought Alastor only allowed you to touch him like that, and so abruptly, too...

“Ah, well, I’m glad that my presence was missed, my dear Rosie,” you raised an eyebrow. My dear? “After all, your fittings are some of the best in New Orleans!”

“Aw, ever the flatterer, aren’t you?”

The pair seemed to completely ignore you in the moment, lost in their own reunion until Rosie placed her hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous glint in her pitch-black gaze.

“And it seems like this pretty little flower’s kept you from my parlor for quite some time! Oh, Al', you just keep bringing so many beautiful young women to my doorstep!”

Now that last part really made you take pause. There were other women before you? You slightly deflated at that thought, though you didn’t know what you expected from someone with Alastor’s reputation and overall appeal.

But the burn in your heart and the slight sting in your eyes betrayed your hurt at the fact that you weren’t anything special to the radio host you had become so taken with.

“But this one might just be the most delectable of all!” Before you could question her strange choice of words, Rosie urgently began pushing you towards the back of the store, past racks of gorgeous dresses and in front of the front counter.

She slipped behind the hardwood desk covered in shiny knickknacks, assorted jewelry – many in the shape of small hearts for the romantic season – and even little chocolate candies covered in shiny, bright pink and red wrapping.

Alastor followed closely behind you two with his arms behind his back.

“How about some candy? It is that time of year, after all! All that romance in the air, the taste of young love on every girl’s tongue! A pretty thing like you must’ve caught the eye of someone special.” She grinned widely down at you, and you happily reached for a piece. “Sure, I'll take one.”

“And who might that be for, my dear?” You jumped and glanced up at Alastor, whose eyes watched your face carefully. His tone bit at the air with a malice you hadn’t heard since the incident at the diner. Rosie leaned against the counter, clearly drinking up every bit of tension.

“That’s none of your business, now, is it?” Taking a chocolate heart, you thanked Rosie with a grateful smile, completely ignoring how Alastor’s eye twitched and he clung closer to your side. His smile stretched wider across his face, the tips of his lips twitching slightly as you gave him a brief side-glance.

Such a strange man...

“So, are you going to introduce us?” Rosie waved to you with a hand on her hip.

“Why, how rude of me!” Alastor pulled you even closer to himself with a hand slung around your shoulder. “This here is my lovely little assistant, and she’s been staying with me for the past couple of weeks! I’ll tell you, she’s quite the helper around the studio! One could only dream to find someone as useful!” Alastor’s scent overwhelmed you as he hugged you close, and when you awkwardly tried to pull away from Alastor’s grasp, he gripped you tighter to himself.

Useful? Was that all you were to him?

"Assistant? I don't remember-" A prompt squeeze of your shoulder from Alastor kept you quiet, and you glared up at him.

“Oh, my! Sounds like you’re quite popular!” It was then that you noticed the slight Boston accent that laced Rosie’s words.

“You know what? The ladies that join here for afternoon tea would just adore you! And they’ve just arrived, too! Oh, Alastor, won’t you let the Doll say hi?” Rosie turned to him with a pleading expression, though Alastor knew that the store owner never waited for permission to do just about anything.

Normally, he’d say yes, but you weren’t fresh meat on the chopping block, nor were you a puppet for Alastor’s entertainment, not anymore at least.

And those women would eat you alive.

“I’m afraid not, my dear. She is not much for such fraternization," he emphasized with a hint of irritation. Rosie deflated with a pout but didn’t push upon the matter. Some of Al’s toys were off-limits, she supposed.

Oh, well. He never was very good at sharing.

A twinge of irritation pricked at the back of your mind. Why didn’t Alastor ask you if you wanted to meet her friends? You would’ve jumped at the chance to meet someone new, but now, with the finality Alastor's tone carried, it seemed such a thing was out of the question.

It irked you that he thought he had any say upon your friendships outside of himself, the strange, oddly possessive man that he was.

But what you despised even more was how easily you complied with his wishes.

“Oh, well, all right then. Perhaps some other time,” Rosie’s smile quickly returned to her face as she straightened her shoulders, shaking off the disappointment from seconds ago. “So, what business can I help you two with?” She folded her hands upon the front desk’s surface with half-lidded eyes, taking upon an air of professionalism.

“Oh, just a private matter I’ve long awaited to tend to, nothing to concern the Doll about. Shall we speak in the parlor?” You narrowed your eyes at Alastor, before shrugging nonchalantly and promptly left his side to observe the rest of the store, turning to a corner with shiny bobbles and trinkets that had caught your eye.

Alastor swiveled to you, his dark eyebrows raised in surprise, and Rosie chuckled at his bewilderment.

“Don’t mind me, just minding my own business,” you turned your back on the pair completely, and Alastor had half a mind to drag you back to the front desk with a tighter grip on your middle than ever before.

“Shall we, then?” Amusement danced in the store owner’s pitch-black eyes as Alastor stiffly nodded with a twitching smile.

The room in which the pair held their usual meetings in was quite similar to the waiting room in which you and Alastor had arrived in, though this one was much more decorated and clearly tailored to Rosie’s personal style, as it was furnished with antiques and furniture most likely preserved from the Victorian era of England.

A small sofa chair sat across from a matching striped loveseat, the fabric of both furnishings colored a cerise pink and decorated with small, dainty intricacies carved into the dark wood of the legs. Bookshelves lined nearly every wall save for the entrance and a small window hanging above a writing desk.

Lilting classical music poured from the well-kept gramophone situated beside a bookshelf, just behind the loveseat.

Alastor made himself comfortable on the sofa chair across from the loveseat where Rosie was seated, pouring herself a cup of tea and him a glass of whiskey from a bottle beside the tea set.

“So, what troubling matters have graced me with your visit, Alastor?” She raised the cup to her maroon-tinted lips and took a small sip, taking small note of how his left hand rose to his bowtie to straighten it, and his fingers tapped frantically against the arm of the chair.

“I needed to ask you for some advice,” he fiddled with his collar for a moment more, his smile widening. This was going to be an awkward conversation, and Rosie surely wouldn’t make it any easier for him, but this certainly wasn’t the lowest level he would stoop to in order to get what he wanted.

Besides, Alastor was well aware that Rosie was something of an expert within the aspect of the heart. If she was the one to go to, he’d make the sacrifice of a slight blow to his pride from the teasing.

“It is no secret that your areas of expertise are outside of my specialties,” he continued, and almost immediately, Rosie perked up with a wide grin, though the confusion that followed sprouted many questions. Why in the world would someone like him want advice on something like that?

“Oh, you know I pride myself upon my specialty upon the matters of the heart!” She fluttered her sharp-nailed fingers at him, intrigue piqued and her inner curiosity buzzing. Could it be...?

“I must say, I’m surprised you’ve taken an interest in such matters. Any particular reason for this sudden change of heart?” Rosie leaned against the chair, waiting for him to answer with a soft smirk. Alastor’s eyebrow twitched. She was going to make him say it.

“Well, there happens to be an investment of mine that has caught more than my eye, recently.” His attempts to be vague fell completely flat when Rosie caught his eyes glancing towards the door behind him.

“And does that ‘investment’ just so happen to be standing outside the door?”

“Ah, ever unrelenting with your teasing, I see,” his voice bit with sarcasm, and he put to use the glass of whiskey that Rosie had provided him with, taking a drink and composing himself.

“Oh, come on, Al’. I’ve seen that look before." Rosie sighed dramatically, looking him up and down with knowing eyes. "You’re in love with her. And you have no idea how to go about it.”

A tender gaze focused upon her oldest friend as his hands tightened around the glass of whiskey. Alastor clearly wasn’t used to being prodded like this. And though normally Rosie would respect his boundaries, love called for a more... personal approach.

“I’ll help you, but I want to be sure,” her soft, motherly demeanor all but evaporated as she narrowed her eyes at him, sharp, dark pupils analyzing every movement like a shark circling blood.

But he was never one to squirm under pressure.

“You’re sure that you love her?”

“With everything that I am.”

“You’d cross every line for her?”

“There is no line I haven’t already crossed. I’d plunge the depths of Hell to be by her side.”

“No matter the cost, you’ll never watch her fall for another?”

“I’d sooner sell my own soul and rip out the heart of those who dare to try.”

The flame in his eyes challenged her overprotective glare, and Rosie relaxed with a deep inhale, relenting her gaze and letting her smile return to her pale features.

“Alright, I’ll help you. But don’t you break that poor girl’s heart, or you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” Alastor relaxed back into the sofa chair. Perhaps this ‘love’ business wouldn’t be so difficult, after all.

Rosie promptly set her teacup down upon the coffee table and leaned forward to spill every secret in her book as if it were one of their regular gossiping sessions, laughing and trading pleasantries over tea.

And she'd make sure that you would be swooning at Alastor's feet when she was done with him.

“Now, here’s the gist of what to do...”

She was something of a miracle worker, after all.

. . .

𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: WELCOME TO THE END! YES, YOU DID IT!!

I'm so sorry to dump this whole fic onto ya'll- When I tell you that I audibly gasped when I saw the word count in my drafts-

Like this thing was 4,800 WORDS. I AM NOT ABOUT TO DO THAT TO YA'LL.

Anyways, it's always fun to write for this fic, but this one was so fun to do!! Istg Rosie would be the best wingman ever. She would solve The Summer I Turned Pretty in two episodes.

Thank you so much for reading! I'll see you next time with our favorite demented, yandere TV Man!!

. . .

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @starsformydarlingmazel, @chitter-chatter, @hazzbindarlingg, @darkangel582, @matrixbearer, @prosciuttosblog @frog-fans-unite

➺ 𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒐 @cafekitsune - 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫!

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #yandere alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #yourdoorisunlocked #fanfic #rosie being the ultimate wingman #like she just wants to see her best friend be in love #she'd also be fucking rolling the entire time because he's horrible at social cues #banner by cafekitsune

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soundspeachytome · 5 months

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7 minutes in heaven - shohei ohtani au

summary: Y/N snoops around famous football player Shohei Ohtani’s locker in search for a scandal against his clean record but ends up in one herself.

tropes: friends with benefits, friends to lovers(?)

tw: *slight* smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving)

word count: 30,033K words (i'm SO sorry in advance holy shit)

hi! it's been a while. when i made this account, i vowed to write at least once a week but it had been so difficult this month juggling work, my chronic migraines, and seasonal depression (lol).

please note i did not proofread this so plsssss i apologize for grammar mistakes and inconsistencies!!

posting this on the last day of 2023, hoping to give everyone a good read before we welcome the new year. so thankful for this small space to try, linger and reset all over again. hope you had a very merry holidays with your loved ones.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==================================

Locker Lockdown

At around thirty minutes past four in the afternoon, I skimmed the clubhouse for any signs of life. It was only the quiet that prevailed. Clear.

I tiptoed my way towards the player locker room. I only had around ten minutes to locate the correct locker and take whatever I could find. Discovering the locker area to be empty and unguarded, I felt a surge of excitement.

Six years later, I couldn’t get my big break and decided sports journalism could catapult me into somewhere big in the industry. This is my last chance to prove myself, otherwise I’d have to reconsider going back home and write Hallmark greeting card messages again.

Shohei Ohtani’s jersey number is the number 17. Lucky bastard, after all these years and even after going through free agency, he got to keep his famous number, even at the cost of having their senior player give it up for him when he joined the football team.

And here you might be wondering why I’m doing this aside from my sheer desperation to get an official spot in the workplace and not eat scraps of topics editors discarded for themselves.

Some people are privileged to a fault.

And I hate seeing him on TV. Or on social media. Or his Colgate-white smile plastered all over my favorite beer and skincare brands.

Some would say this is the TMZ tabloid level of writing. I say this is investigative journalism. Find out if the famous favorite son-in-law has any flaws of his own and wrap around a bowtie of hidden horrors of sports documentaries.

And where else can we find this but in the athlete hotpot: their locker room.

I found Shohei’s locker right away as it was the tidiest locker among all on display, with nothing but brand-sponsored clothing hung neatly on the rack. He also donned the top shelf with some dog-eared self-help titles and vitamin bottles. While the rest of the athletes have pictures of their girlfriends, wives and their kids, Shohei has an unreleased polaroid selfie with his dog, Dekopin, just right beside his perfume bottles. Dekopin was looking away, captured in mid-yawn, with his ears raised, and Shohei, smiling into the camera with pursed lips and a snapback on.

I got so immersed into reading the ingredients of his vitamin bottles, trying to find anything remotely related to steroids, or any form of illegal bodily enhancements, that I didn’t notice footsteps from outside the hall.

“What are you doing here?” a voice loomed behind me and I dropped the diet supplement bottle in panic.

Only the sound of the bottle rattling could be heard as I locked eyes with Shohei Ohtani, tall and all muscular. His hair was sweaty and unkempt and his eyes held mild anger and confusion. After the bottle stopped rolling and settled somewhere on the floor between us, there was only silence and the cold sweat building up at my back.

I swallowed hard. I planned everything from studying the stadium’s entrance and exit doors but I didn’t plan on bumping into him. Not like this. Not when I’m at the lowest level of the social hierarchy right now.

I could only be ashamed.

Brain still befuddled at the thought of getting caught, I urged my limbs and picked up the vitamin bottle and returned it back to Shohei’s locker. The plan was not to respond at all and run as fast as I could before the rest of his team arrived. That was the only way to keep whatever dignity I have left.

“I said, what are you doing here?” He caught my arm mid-exit and pulled me back, tightening his grip.

“Let go of me.” I struggled to keep my balance and the way my voice wavered was no help at all.

Shohei saw the camera slung over my shoulder and looked back at me, realization hitting him.

“Y/N, are you a sports journalist now? And were you looking through my stuff?” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“That’s none of your business. Let go of me.” I kept my voice steady but his grip only tightened. The sides of my eyes slowly formed tears.

“What tabloid media do you work for? I should report you. Would you like that? What a shame you’ll be banned from all the games now, right? You nasty journalists just won’t keep your noses away from my business.” he took my camera and deleted all the photos I took of the contents of his locker. I tried to leap for it but he was obviously inches taller than I was and I was no match for that.

“I don’t write tabloid news. If I was, my name would have been all over TV by now.” I grabbed the camera from him and sighed morosely at the lost media. A day’s work is all lost.

“My boss gave me a green light to do a documentary about the team. And the star player.” I wiggled my fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize the word “star” in front of him.

“I came here assuming you and the other players would be here for an interview but no one was around yet. So I hung around a bit and took interest in your nutritional supplements.” Lie after lie after lie. I gritted my teeth and faked a smile. The most convincing lie I’ve learned on almost all my failed dates and relationships was to stroke a man’s ego and have him talk about all the things he is interested in, making him divert his attention to something else.

“You’ve got really good, um, vitamins for muscle recovery there. Maybe that’s why you got so big and strong, right?.” He looked at me dubiously, nodding responsively to be polite. If he took the bait, then he is obviously just like any other guy I’ve ever met.

“I mean, I guess? I’ve been doing deadlifts so–”

Approaching footsteps and faint voices were heard from the hall. Shohei pushed me toward the opposite end of the hall, where the showers were located.

“Wha–” I started but was shut up when he pushed me further into the back of the shower room, swiping the doors closed.

“Shut up if you don’t want to be caught.” He growled and I recoiled back into the tiled corner. On top of me was the almost rusting shower head who had seen better days, and two bottle pumps for shampoo and body wash.

Voices and conversations were starting to fill in the locker room that was empty only a few seconds ago. The voices of men echoed through the shower rooms. You could hear the sound of water turning on from neighboring shower stalls, laughter and tired conversation in the locker area. We were surrounded.

Shohei could be heard laughing with his mates while blocking the door to the shower room I was hiding in.

“Are you using that, Sho? I could use a hot shower right now.” one of his teammates said.

“Uh, no, I was just about to use this room, sorry.” he said, almost hesitating. After a few seconds, he entered the shower room and started undressing.

I widened my eyes and shot him daggers. When he unhooked his shirt from his armholes, I was rendered speechless.

He had the body sculpted by the gods with his wide shoulders and large pecs that glinted under the light. How could someone look handsome and beautiful at the same time?

So when Shohei reached for the waist belt of his pants down, I didn’t know why I had choked on a silent scream. I looked away, embarrassed to have reacted like an inexperienced teenager. I have seen and have been with naked men before. This should be nothing new to me and my level. Or so I thought.

I stole a glance at Shohei, who was slowly walking towards me (or to the showerhead, where I stood under, obviously) in only his boxers on, gazing at me in wild amusement.

We were almost inches apart from each other, foreheads almost touching, breaths almost converging, if you may. If I stand on my tiptoes, I would be almost at his eye-level and I could peck him on the lips if I wanted to.

If I wanted to.

“Sorry, but I need to shower or someone else will try to take this stall.” His voice broke my salacious thoughts. He looked at me and turned the shower on.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to. Aren’t I? I just got off practice and I stink.” He said almost sarcastically.

“So I’m supposed to just watch you bathe and hope I get out here alive?” Water slowly dripped into my shirt, soaking my chest and exposing a bit of my underwear.

“If you didn’t sneak in here, we wouldn’t have this problem.” He concluded and pursed his lips, not looking at me.

“Shohei? You okay? You sound like you’re talking to someone.” a familiar voice floated into the shower room.

“It was a video on my phone that I forgot to pause, Ippei-san.” Shohei’s face turned red but recovered quickly, glaring at me.

“Oh, well then, I thought you finally had a girl in there. I was wrong.” Ippei laughed.

Shohei started lathering body wash on his body at the slowest pace possible. His hands glided through his chest, stomach, and into the dick he’s restraining inside his boxers. Simply having this view had me almost whimpering. If it had been another day, I would have obviously enjoyed this, having a sexy man bathe in front of me, because who wouldn’t? But under my circumstances, I’m only fairly annoyed at being a flustered, hot mess and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Oh, fuck, now you got me wet.” I blurted a little loudly as the water splashed and got into my socks.

Shohei’s widened and panicked eyes shot at me.

In between those short seconds, Shohei was able to respond quicker than my brain could. He had faked a laugh and said loudly, “Well, that’s awkward, the video keeps on playing on its own. Let me turn my phone off instead.” gaining laughter from outside the shower area and then reaching for the small of my neck and closed whatever space was seen between us.

Based on what I had learned in self-defense training, my initial bodily reaction should have been this: If someone is coming at you from the front, a groin kick may deliver enough force to paralyze your attacker, making your escape possible. 1. Stabilize yourself as best you can. 2. Lift your dominant leg off the ground and begin to drive your knee upward. 3. Extend your dominant leg, drive hips forward, slightly lean back, and kick forcefully, making contact between your lower shin or ball of your foot and the attacker’s groin area.

Instead, when his lips touched mine, I felt my arms throw around his neck and pulled him closer. They say we’re all beggars for something, and this indulgence I had let myself be greedy for.

When his lips reached mine, I parted like the Red Sea almost immediately, welcoming him and everything that he could offer: the taste of his tongue on my mouth, the smell of honey orange and apricot from his body wash seeping through my nose as I peppered kisses on his chest, and his obviously hard dick grinding against my stomach. When I palmed him, he managed a low growl and caught my wrists.

“Not here.” he groaned.

I pushed my head back inquiringly, both of us breathing too hard.

“I have no condom,” he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. Under the dim bathroom light, I could see his face and chest were flushed. “Next time?”

“Well, usually when two old friends meet after a fall out in college, they just catch up and have coffee.” I said.

He laughed and said quietly, “Okay, so I owe you.”

“The coffee or the protected sex?”

“Uh, it could go a lot of ways.” Before he could say more, I palmed him through his boxer shorts and looked up at him, trying to find his limit.

Shohei bit his own lip and tugged the roots of my hair in a bundle, pulling and tugging from the pleasure. To keep himself from making such ungodly hot sounds, he pushed his tongue down my throat and thrusted his hips back and forth against my hand.

As if to make it even, he unclasped my bra and sucked on my already soaked breasts, a satisfied groan slipped from me. We both pulled and pushed and sucked and kissed each other in the crevices the shower splatters couldn’t reach, silencing the moans before it could escape us.

In that brief and elating moment, while we muted the noise from unsuspecting people, we smothered each other’s groans and reached our highs in the quietest, most pleasurable way possible.

=========================================

7 minutes of heaven

It’s strange how I always find myself in the most ridiculous situations.

The next few occasions that I’d meet Shohei would be wordless and timed interactions in enclosed spaces. We’d see each other in public and pretend we didn’t know each other but slip each other notes of the next place we’d secretly meet. It all felt strangely exhilarating to keep a secret like a fifteen year old would, with all the sneaking and running.

We’ve explored almost every nook and cranny of the stadium, discovering hidden spots of our rendezvous. We’d meet up in a different bathroom and he’d push me on my back while he fucks me repeatedly on the bathroom sink. Pre-game preps meant I gave him blowjobs in his manager’s office hours and hours before everyone even arrived.

Of course, when we ran out of places to hide, we’d go as far as looking for the next empty parking lot and tried to fuck each other noiselessly.

“So when can I take you out for dinner?” he had asked one day, when he dragged me out to meet with him around after midnight. I wouldn’t let him inside my apartment and I refused to do the deed in his either, so he’d bring me to places that only us knew, to fuck, to kiss, sometimes to talk, but more often, to drive each other’s pleasure and only that.

Because god forbid we both catch feelings and lose the fun, right?

So no talking, no sharing of personal details, no anything.

We were in an empty parking lot, away from the lampposts and streetlights. Shohei had made sure that we were well hidden in the dark.

He had his legs spread while sitting on the driver’s seat. His hands, warm and wide, rested on my hips and thighs, lightly urging me to ride him slowly.

Soft RNB music played on the stereo, it was a quiet, still night. It was both our day off so he had wanted us to chill and take the sex slowly.

Slow meant gazing at each other’s eyes–gaze, not look–with endearment or adoration, not lust or pleasure. Slow meant thinking the unthinkable thoughts. Slow meant being vulnerable while coming undone.

And I don’t want the slow and quiet moments. I wanted the fast and rough with no time to talk, gaze or even think, just one hundred percent fun and debauchery.

“Mmm. Maybe when you show me your photos,” I avoided the question but I also knew Shohei would never show me the photos he had taken–past and present. Even when we had been buddies for an entire semester, he had, not once, shown me his portfolio.

“So probably never, right?” he gazed up at me with his creamy brown eyes, hands caressing my stomach lightly.

“Probably,” I muttered and with that he had gripped my thighs tightly and moved his hips upwards to meet me. I moaned when he hit me in the right spots. Any sign of softness he had shown a few moments ago was gone, and only the roughness and unsettling disconnection remained.

This particularly fine day, I would be standing at the mercy of his mouth. He had dragged me to an empty storage room in the east wing of the stadium, hours after practice. According to him, the area stands the exact opposite from the lockers so most people hardly come by. How he had found out about this, I had no idea.

He was kneeling in between me, my right leg hooked on his shoulder, giving him more access and my hands tugged at the strands of his hair every time he licked my sensitive clit.

Shohei’s tongue grazing against me had left me quivering in delight. He stands up and kisses me, giving me a taste. My fingers started unbuckling his belt when he felt his phone vibrate.

“Oops, Ippei’s looking for me.” He pockets his phone, looking forlorn, as if telling me he didn’t really want to go yet. “See you again next time?”

“Yours or mine?” I had asked, brushing up and straightening my wrinkled dress. And when I realized what I had done, Shohei’s eyes shot up and he beamed widely.

“I just– I- I want a proper night with sex, you know.” I explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s so uncomfortable having to go commando at work after you had just literally sucked the life out of my vagina, Sho.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smiled even more.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What? Fuck off.” By this time, my face felt hot and had probably looked red like a tomato, which probably amused Shohei even more.

“Your place, then. I’ll call you.” he gives me one last kiss then heads out first, leaving me a dazed and pulsating mess.

A shrill sound knocked me awake. It felt like seven thousand screaming hungry babies in my ear, bouncing off around my brain like a pinball.

I looked at the digital clock on the bedside table and saw the time glinting behind the glass: 8:41 PM. I must've fallen asleep after taking a half day off from work, feeling nauseous and slightly feverish. It seemed that whatever body malaise that I have been carrying inside me earlier had sprung into a full-blown ailment.

I pushed my body up and walked groggily to the source of my misery.

Someone was buzzing the doorbell and repeatedly pounding on the door. Great.

“If you’re not dead or dying behind this door, you’re about to be.” I croaked harshly, throat burning; putting all my remaining energy in pulling the door open. I was greeted by an extremely tall man with frantic brown eyes, searching my face.

“Oh, thank fucking god. I’ve been knocking for half an hour.” he wrapped me in a tight hug, I almost collapsed. Partly because of the throbbing headache and overall discomfort that I already felt, but hugely because of the warm minty scent of Shohei Ohtani.

“Jesus, you’re burning up!”

“What are you doing here?” I said, struggling in his grip, his face resting on the curve of my neck. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You don’t text someone ‘at least i’ll die happy today knowing that my last meal was shoyu ramen’ and then not fucking reply after.” We were still standing by the entrance, his face now angled towards me, a look of concern or anger mixed in his face, I couldn’t tell. My cerebral cortex functions seemed to have shut down after witnessing this unexpected tenderness.

“Medicine knocked me down cold.” I shrugged weakly.

Shohei pulled me into the bedroom and tucked me back in, apologizing for his intrusion, putting down plastic bags of what seemed to be groceries on the kitchen counter, and went back to lightly scolding me for proper texting etiquette to family and friends, to anyone really. That my dark humor doesn’t translate well in messages and that I could have really died and people would think I’m joking but really, he got so scared that he went here as fast as he could.

I don’t remember much but in between fever dreams and my ibuprofen haze, I faintly remember the savory taste of rice porridge exploding in my mouth, the constant dabbing of a cold towel on my face, neck and chest, sometimes, my back, too; the smell of rubbing alcohol and a large, gentle, almost loving touch.

I don’t remember much but in between waking up in the darkness and stone-cold silence, I remember soft forehead kisses until I drifted back to sleep; of big strong arms enclosing me into a big embrace, as if to tell me, you can put your guard down now. you are safe here.

I don’t remember much from coming in and out of slumber, but I remember thinking: wouldn’t it be nice if this wasn’t a dream?

======================================

Reset

In the end, I quit sports media on my own volition and got into a friend’s ceramics house. I have always had a thing for ceramics and sculpting as early as college, where I had met my then-professor and now friend–who happens to be the owner of mentioned ceramics house. She had always praised me and encouraged me to join her when she first opened the shop, but as someone who had musings for writing at the time, I politely declined and pursued, you guessed it, journalism.

I’ve always been good at writing, no doubt, from the way professors always had a good word for me, but I always seem to get into the wrong places every time. Time moves fast if you’re a journo, if you’re slow, then the news is rehashed news, it would just be a late-night recap at a midnight slot that no one is ever awake to watch.

Here, inside her shop, it was quiet, and time moved slowly. I can get into my laziest clothes and no one bats an eye. I can finally retire my stilettos and straight cut blazers.

It was all so going well. The customers were always mid-twenties who got interested in our social media marketing of creating your own mugs and other ceramics and always came in in groups, duos, and solos.

Slowly, I realized that not everyone gets to the places they want. Even when you work blood and sweat for it. Not all were built like, say, Shohei Ohtani, whose talent was recognized early and afforded him an automatic slot in the big leagues.

Some are born to be big icons and some, like the rest of us, are meant for smaller, softer spaces. I get that now. It finally felt like I was in the right place and pace.

All this positivity and good timing felt all too good to be true and been proven accurate when the scandal blew up.

Shohei Ohtani photographed exiting his LA apartment with a woman in his arms.

Shohei Ohtani’s rumored girlfriend receives backlash from fans: READ MORE

EXCLUSIVE: More photographs of Shohei Ohtani and rumored girlfriend driving away in his Porsche

Rumored girlfriend of Shohei Ohtani: Who is She?

When I say it was everywhere, I meant it exploded right in front of our faces like a million confetti, falling and twirling fast. It was unstoppable. It was inevitable.

I felt my limbs go numb when I read the morning news. There in bold and black letters was the headline, my name and a clear photo of me holding Shohei’s arm, smiling. A certain news outlet had gotten juice of us and our secret hideouts and had spread all over social media like wildfire. You know what’s funnier? The media outlet that released this was my previous employer. The same company that asked me to snuff out a controversy. While I had failed to give them the news they wanted, I had unintentionally brought them an exclusive that wrote my entire name–and face–off the map and potentially ruined Shohei Ohtani’s clean record.

Shohei Ohtani, despite his happy-go-lucky and passive demeanor, was a very serious and straight-laced person. I already knew this in university but I got to see more of this side of him when we had started the fucking thing. Even though I had clearly told him that I didn’t want any strings attached, it was unavoidable to give and receive bits and pieces of each other when we’re not naked.

I did enjoy talking to Shohei under the sheets. His ingenious ideas and the way he talked about the things he adored spilled all over him, like afternoon sunlight streaming in between curtains, making way even through the small spaces to cast his light. I basked into this warmth as much time allowed me, because who knows when I can experience the glow of his presence again after all the chaos.

He was exactly like the golden hour: a warm afternoon orange luminescence that usually only stays for ten to fifteen minutes a day. If you wait too long to look up, he disappears quickly as he goes, leaving only the faint orange, yellow and pink hues chasing after him before the black of the night takes over you.

Well, now the fairytale has run its course and the sun has set to announce that golden hour is over. Night has finally fallen on me and I’m feeling scared and alone.

The first thing I did was to grab as much stuff as I could and put them all in my luggage and filed for an indefinite leave.

As if like clockwork, my phone rang and saw Shohei’s name on the caller ID. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What could I possibly say to him? That I used him just for the clicks and the views? That after all this time we spent together, he would realize that I am still the same despicable, scathing piece of garbage who’d trample on anyone just for a few cents?

So I don’t answer. Even when he calls back again and again and leaves me twenty or more messages by the hour. I turned my phone off. The latest message from Ohtani coming up on the notifications bar read, “Where are you?” before the screen flashed to black.

I have nothing but my pride left. I’d like to keep it that way. In such a way, I was embarrassed, too. I thought I finally had something to brag about. A job that I actually liked and enjoyed, a peaceful mind, and the possibility of liking a guy who had shown me nothing but kindness.

And because I couldn’t handle all of this, I handled it like I have always handled things: I ran away like a coward.

I rode a bus without reading its destination card and let it drive me away as far as it could, to someplace where no one knew me or Shohei Ohtani, or had any idea about the news.

The bus drove away and I never looked back.

================================

Waiting Until My Spring Comes Again: Shohei’s POV

Just like that I lost her. She wasn’t even mine to begin with.

When the news broke out, I was so furious that I wanted to drive to the news outlet that published the article and give them a piece of my mind. I knew my blind rage would have done more damage so I didn’t.

Instead, I looked for her and wanted to let her know that whatever happens, I won’t drop her just like that. That I’m willing to acknowledge the rumors and make it official, if she wanted to.

I’ve always been open to the idea of taking it to the next level with her but every time I broached the subject, she would change the topic, get into a foul mood, or try to pick a fight with me. Which I found endearing. She’s so adorable when she pouts. And when she pushes her luck thinking a five foot four girl like her can withstand someone as tall as me.

I just can’t help but laugh and feel a flutter in my stomach. She’s someone who has been adorable and held a special corner in my heart.

Y/N’s face was so expressive and whatever emotion she was in it would always be evident on her face. When she’s happy, a dimple on her cheek shows up. When she’s feeling sad or down, she’d look downcast and would prefer that you leave her alone. When she’s thinking about something deep, she would chew on her lower lip and always had a blank almost unfocused stare. Despite her many faces, I’m sure as hell that I love all of them. I wanted to be by her side when all this shit happened, I wanted to see which face she was making. Is she pissed like I was? Is she sad? I wouldn’t know. The moment her number didn’t connect after I had tried reaching her, I already knew that she was avoiding me.

I lost count of how many messages I had sent her, of how many missed calls and voicemails I left her. She was unreachable. She gave me her spare key so when I tried visiting her apartment, it was empty.

She was gone.

And only the traces of her lingered in her apartment. Her unwashed mug with leftover stale coffee was on the kitchen counter, specks of lipstick staining the mouth. Dirty clothes hanging on her bathroom door, forgotten and unwashed. The peachy scent of her purifier that always latches on to her clothes whenever we go out. Her unread books on her coffee table, some dog eared and annotated.

Everything that I love about her is here except for her and I miss her.

For the next couple of days, I dodged the media and focused on training, playing and practicing. Those three over and over again. I tried to not think about her and lose sleep because of her. An athlete’s wellbeing is connected to quality sleep.

But she was everywhere I went. Pieces of her were scattered all over the places I avoided, and it was my fault really, for bringing her to places we usually hid. For hoping that someday, the secrets we hid would be our stories to tell. Now I just let her memories rot inside my heart, where she should be.

I thought it would be easier when you just let it slip by but the more days that passed without seeing her, the more I feel a gnawing pain in my heart. She had sucked all my sunlight and took it all away with her.

I want her back.

=====================================

My Answer is You

Eleven days. It took me nine days to realize running away was a bad idea.

When I first got off the bus, I thought the place looked familiar. Turns out, I rode the bus to my hometown, to the very south and the last bus stop until it turned around to go back to the city.

When I appeared in front of my mom–the first time in a long time–she had immediately said, “Did something in the city?”

The moment she asked, I broke down in tears. She shushed and consoled me while I cried like a little kid. Like the way I had bawled to her when my first boyfriend broke up with me, or when my love birds died from illness, the other from loneliness.

It feels like I would die of loneliness, Mom. I had said.

Did he really say that? Did he tell you that it’s over? She cooed.

I was embarrassed to admit to my mom that no, Shohei had never told me anything because I had shut him out even before I could give him the chance. But what if that call was already the end of it all? What if answering his call meant exactly what I had thought. That would shatter me more.

So, no, Mom, you can call your daughter a coward but in her heart, it’s all over.

The next forty-eight hours at home was a blur. After feeding me with what feels like a day’s worth of homemade dishes, she made me wash the dishes, clean my old room, and the living room as well. And when that wasn’t enough, she made me go with her to the night market and bought whatever seafood she could find to feed me.

Is this what you did when Dad left? I wanted to ask her. Did you go around acting as normal while nursing a wounded heart? Did you go all through that facade just to show me that you were strong for the both of us?

She had her back to me, her hands pale and creased with age, showing signs of passage of time and her hardwork to put me to school. I know she was trying to make me busy to keep my mind off of Shohei. I’m not sure if she fully understands the scandal but she was trying her best to keep my head above the water. Probably just like how she always did.

I wish I was strong like you, Mom.

On the fourth and fifth day, she had let me work under the sun harvesting corn. Which I absolutely despised. I had to wear sun hats and these jumpers to cover myself from the heat.

“It’s cheap labor for letting you stay and eat my food,” she said when I complained. “Tomorrow, you’ll help me sell these at the market.”

As the days grew idly by, I’ve grown more accustomed to rising early and eating less meat and more vegetables. I willingly went out of the sun more to do housework, like hanging clothes, watering Mom’s plants, however, I was still not willing to harvest her vegetables, which she made me do a lot. When I say a lot, it means everyday since then.

On the eleventh morning, I woke up earlier than usual and found my mom already awake. She busied herself with a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, mom.” I yawned, grabbing my own mug.

“After breakfast, pack your things and go back to the city.” She said quietly.

“Huh?” I’m not sure I heard her right. Is she kicking me out?

She pushed today’s newspaper into my hands and pointed at an article. An article shows a picture of Shohei smiling at the camera, behind him was a framed candid photo of me turning my head just in time when the camera clicked, I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, a shawl draped over my shoulders, and the wind blowing my hair and covering my face slightly. Just by looking at the photo, it looked like a time when Shohei and I drove to the beach. He had brought his camera and took a lot of photos.

The article said, “Portfolio on Love: Shohei Ohtani’s Photographs Displayed for A Cause.”

“....and when the powerhouse athlete gets a day off, he plays around his camera and takes photos of anything, everywhere. He reveals Insider Today that for the first time ever, he is displaying his portfolio to the public at the Grand City Museum starting today until the 31st of the month, with the theme of “hello, love, are you there?”

“...’I don’t know how else to define love but this. I hope when the public sees this, they will instantly know that my photographs are a reflection of my love,’ he said.

“When asked if this was a confirmation to the rumors flying around recently, he just smiled sadly and said, "I'm hoping that this answers everyone’s questions, especially hers.”

“If your face is plastered on all of the newspapers, it wouldn’t make sense to stay here longer.” Mom said after a while. She had finished her breakfast and took them away to the sink.

“It doesn’t end well if you’re too afraid, my darling.” she said, not looking at me. “To love and to be hurt is to be brave. If it doesn’t work out after facing him, then by all means. Come home. My doors are always open for you. And I will feed you rice cakes while you harvest my corn.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t a hugger but welcomed my hug and patted me on the shoulders. “Now go, before all the chismosas wake up and corners you.”

I packed my bags and left home, my heart pieced back together. It was not wrong to go home and seek shelter. What I did wrong was leaving Shohei all alone when he took most of the fall.

Five hours, one taxi ride, and a ten minute walk later, I arrived at the city museum, nervous, anxious, feeling a little lightheaded and hesitant. I wiped my sweaty palms and got inside.

It was not as packed as I had expected, probably because it was a little over after lunch, though there was still a relatively big crowd overall.

When I stepped into the hall featuring Shohei’s displays, I felt a surge of emotion. It was a collection of all the photographs of his loved ones. In a black and white collection, he had photographed his parents holding hands while walking in the snow, a photo of his dog sleeping idly on his couch, a photo of the football stadium in a wide angle shot, showing Ippei and the rest of his teammates playing a warm up game before practice.

When I turned to a corner, that’s when I saw it. There were multiple frames hanging intricately on one side, showing all of the photos he took of me. One during university days, where I was showing him a strangely large eggplant during our photo walks at the market. There was another with me looking at him angrily for reasons I couldn’t remember, and a more recent one, in the middle, where he was holding my hand while I walked forward, back facing the camera.

On the metal plate below were words that read in cursive: “2009–present. Moments of love that I hold dear.”

At that moment, tears had started rolling down my cheek and I couldn’t help but sob. The onlookers nearby started moving away, probably weirded out by the sudden burst of emotion over some piece of art.

They weren’t just pieces of art. These were moments when Shohei and I were together and maybe realized that it was love.

By then, someone on my left offered a handkerchief and I gingerly took it, wiping my tears-strewn face. I muttered an apology for ruining the fabric.

“This is not the first time someone cried in front of my photographs. Some were absolutely heartbroken after seeing them.” a man’s voice said. And that reeled me back as I turned around and saw Shohei standing in front me.

“I knew this would lure you back,” he said, smiling.

His face was a little gaunt and tired. He had dark circles around his eyes that I’ve never seen before. I could only look at him and he looked back. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to explain but he spoke first and said:

“Did you get a tan?” he started, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I was harvesting corn!” I said, covering my face with both hands. I didn’t even have the time to put on makeup or a swab of lipstick and that’s the first thing he notices.

He took my hands and held them tightly against his chest. “No one looks this beautiful even after harvesting corn.”

“Shut up,” I said looking away.

He tipped my chin and held my face. “Let’s start again, shall we?”

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hi, my name is Shohei Ohtani. I’m an athlete and an amateur photographer sometimes. I’ve been in love with the girl in the photographs since forever.”

I managed a smile and laced my hands around his neck. “Hi, I’m a ceramics maker and sometimes, a farmer, you should see the corn I harvest. You look so familiar. I think you look like my future boyfriend.”

His eyes perked up and laughed at our silly little game. He went in for a kiss and I obliged, feeling safe and brave in his arms.

Let them take the damn photographs and write the articles all they want, but they could never take my sunshine away ever again.

#shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani fluff #shohei ohtani smut

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snippit-crickit · 5 months

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sorry for obsessing over details but is train armadillo they/he or they/them bc the doodle sheet has both? and a few other drawings of them do as well, and i am way too invested in them to not know if that's a mistake/something you changed later, or not. i wanna be properly respectful. (i seriously just wanna know and don't mean it in some sort of bad faith way)

haha its okay, i know somebody pointed it out already when i first made that ref (half a yr ago?) originally it was a typo but now i think the best way to describe armadillo would be that he does not get human social constructs, and the extistence of things that are gendered is something that sounds very odd to them and she wont pay any attention to it (oh wow a handbag i want to wear that oh wow a bowtie i want to wear that) Basically they dont care (and so do i, i suck at understanding gender myself), they didnt have this kind of complex rules in armadillo society Most of the time i use He because in my mother language every world is gendered and armadillo is a "he"... and has the word "sir" in it which i think is a funny pun lol TLDR gender is weird and i dont know, it will sort itself out probably Have some doodles however!

(this is how his lunchbox looks like)

#ask #armadillo

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ranaissingle · 1 year

Text

Right Here

Masterlist

Summary: The reader and Austin spend a day at home when the Oscar nominations come out and the reader comforts an insecure Austin the day before. Rating: T (it is straight fluff and I eat that shit up) Pairings: Austin x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.8k A/N: I haven't posted in like a week bc I couldn't find inspiration but I need more soft Austin content to think about so this is what you guys get instead of Coffee or Tea Pt. 5 lol (Which is the last part by the way and I am currently suffering from writer's block so I'm doing this to distract myself. ) Reader has almost no body descriptors like race, body parts, weight, etc.

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Austin had been counting the days until the Oscar nominations and had run himself ragged in the process. He googled when they would be released at least 4 times a day and consulted his manager about the likelihood of his nomination in the time between. As much as Austin tried to convince himself he didn't care, he hadn't fooled anyone; not even himself.

You were content to watch him at first and assumed it was a natural part of being an actor; you weren't sure what you could do to ease his stress, to begin with. But after the dreaded day drew nearer, Austin's anxiety had shot through the roof and multiplied tenfold. You couldn't bare to watch him wallow in his own misery or stress himself out any longer. So the afternoon before the Oscar nominations were to come out and Austin's anxiety was at an all-time high, you would make your move.

You had planned a delicious at-home dinner followed by a movie and a relaxing day in bed. You had prepared a delicious bolognese sauce with mini bowtie pasta (Austin's favorite) accompanied by a tasty fruit cake for dessert.

You had really outdone yourself.

Austin was due to come back from the day's interview at 6:45 which was perfect for dinner at 7.

You had just finished lighting the dinner candles and switching off the lights when Austin tumbled into the door looking worn out and stressed to high heaven.

You walked up to the door to take his coat and kiss his cheek.

"Welcome home love, how was work?" This had become a routine; Austin would tumble in, you would take his coat, kiss his cheek, and then ask how his day was. That routine was one of Austin's few consistencies in his hectic life and he looked forward to your soft smile and breathy voice during his entire commute home.

"It was alright darlin' how was yours?", he placed his hand on your waist and drew you closer.Just as Austin finished his question to you, it seemed he noticed the lack of fluorescent lighting in the apartment.

"What's up with all the lights not being o-" He set his eyes on the dinner table set with the best dishware and china, the long thin candles lit in the middle, and the unopened bottle of red wine occupying the end of the table.

"You've been so stressed lately and it's taking a toll on your health," you reached up to place your hand on his cheek and swiped your thumb over the discolored skin under his eyes.

"I'm worried about you is all, so I made us dinner and I have a movie qued for us to watch after." Austin gradually wrapped his arms tighter and tighter as you spoke. Eventually, his head landed in your neck and you felt his breaths tickling your clavicle.

"Thank ya darlin' I love ya so much, ya know that?" His voice was ragged. Austin loved being taken care of, but he wouldn't tell anyone that and you loved taking care of him. It was a win-win situation.

You pulled your face away from him to grasp his hands in yours and lead him to the table.

"Darlin this smells delicious, did ya make pasta?"

"Just how you like it, my love." Austin's smile was breathtaking and he looked more alive in that moment than he had in the 2 weeks before.

Austin pulled out your chair before walking around to the table to pull out his own. He tried the pasta and all but moaned in approval.

"Darlin' this is amazing! I swear you cook this better each time." You were glad the hours spent over the stove reducing the sauce with spices and herbs had the desired effect.

"I'm glad you like it Austin! I called up my mom to get some better tips for making a meat sauce. I'm glad the work paid off." You giggled as Austin continued to shovel spoon after spoon of the delicious pasta into his mouth.

Dinner went by pleasantly with both of you conversing about whatever came to mind. Both your legs were intertwined under the table and Austin fidgeted with your hand where it rested on the table.

You both made it through the main course accompanied by the wine and when it came time for dessert, Austin decided he wanted to spoon-feed you the fruit cake as a 'thank you' for all the hard work you had put in to prepare a delicious meal for him.

Austin had been drained and tired for what felt like an eternity but it seems an afternoon with you and a home-cooked meal was all he needed to recover.

Austin had asked you three times to let him help you with the dishes but you had profusely refused and all but shoved him into your bedroom as you told him to relax and kissed his forehead.

"I can take care of the dishes myself and I'll just be putting them in the dishwasher anyway." You waved your hand to emphasize how light the work would be.

Austin frowned but eventually let out an "Alright darling whatever you say." accompanied by a heavy sigh and a 'thank you' kiss on your temple.

You did the dishes in record time because you wanted to spend some time with Austin before his eventual crash. He wasn't going to last through the whole movie as was evident by his eye bags and already drooping eyelids.

You crossed the living room and opened the door to your shared bedroom. Austin had changed into his pajamas and was tucked under the covers while he read one of his mystery novels.

"Hey, baby," you spoke as you entered the room and Austin perked up, "I was thinking, we can still watch the movie if you want but you're looking a little tired and I don't want to keep you up, especially when you need all the rest you can get. So, what do you choose?"

"Could we just cuddle and go to sleep? I am feelin' pretty tired." He tilted his head in the most endearing way as he asked and you were happy to satisfy his request.

You crawled into the bed and opened the blanket and your arms to invite Austin into a hug. His smile was breathtaking as he practically threw his book onto the nightstand and shimmied under the sheets to get closer to you.

His head found purchase in your neck yet again and his arms wrapped around you to hold your hips in his embrace. You settled one hand on his back to rub circled on his spine while the other raked its way through his soft locks. You knelt your head down to whisper how proud you were of him, how much you loved him, and how he had nothing to worry about because he was guaranteed an oscar nomination tomorrow. He kissed your necks over and over as you spoke and only buried himself further into your form when you finished speaking.

The dim street lights reflecting into the room and the lavender diffuser you had on at all times calmed Austin. He eventually relaxed in your embrace and spoke a mumbled "I love you" before finally nodding off.

"I love you more."

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The sunlight streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and illuminated the room with a soft and warm light. The both of you were still fast asleep in the position you had slept in the night before; although Austin seemed to be nestled impossibly closer to you. He had fallen asleep in record time and had not woken up in a cold sweat once during the entire night. His dreams were filled with mundane days spent at home and your smile took center stage in his every thought.

Alas, although you and Austin had both forgotten what day today was, his manager had not been so lucky. The Oscar nominations had been released in the early morning and you both had slept ever soundly through it. Taylor, Austin's manager, had been awake at the crack of dawn refreshing her inbox and the official oscar website. As soon as the nominations dropped, she picked up her cell to call Austin. It took her 4 attempts before your sleep-ridden voice made its way into her receiver.

You picked the phone up to your ear and mumbled a broken

"Hello?"

" OH MY GOD THANK GOODNESS SOMEONE ANSWERED. AUSTIN GOT THE NOMINATION!" Her voice blared into your ear making you wince and pull the phone away from your face.

"What??? Are you serious Taylor??!!" You tried to keep your voice soft so as to not wake Austin before you confirmed the news.

"YES, THE NOMINATIONS WERE RELEASED A FEW MINUTES AGO!"

"Okay, I'll tell Austin! He is still asleep so I'll have to wake him up." Said man was still tucked into your neck but had begun to stir.

"Pleeeeeease do, he has been waiting for this nomination for so long and you and I both know he deserves it."

"I know Taylor, thank you for calling so many times it would have been a shame if we missed this."

After ending the phone call, you put the phone down and wrapped your arms back around Austin while leaning your mouth into his ear and running your hand down his back.

"Austin baby, you have to wake up love. We can't sleep in any longer." Austin stirred but did not fully wake up. You stroked his back again before using your words to coax him up into the world of the awake.

Austin's facelifted slowly out of your neck to turn to where the light was streaming into the room and he placed his head over your heart while he slowly woke up.

"Austin, Taylor just called." You felt him tense his arms around you as he braced himself for the bad news. You just wrapped your arms tighter around him and whispered, so softly he barely heard you at all

"You did it, my love, you got nominated for best actor by the Oscars. Out of so many actors, they chose you! I'm so proud of you Austin, you worked so hard and you did it, baby. You did it, my love."

Austin's choked sobs were palpable in the room.

"I did it? A-are you serious? I actually got nominated?" He had picked his head up from your chest and sat up to look at you.

Taking his face in between both your hands you gazed into his eyes.

"Yes, you did Austin. Believe it and live it because you deserve it. All your hard work has paid off and I will always be right here for you, for as long as you'll have me."

Austin's teary eyes and blissful smile made your heart flutter in a way you never knew was possible.

Never in your life had you loved someone like you loved Austin.

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This got very sappy very fast but I can't say that I'm mad at it. I also think that Austin probably needs a lot of assurance right now just like the rest of us. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

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sparrowrye · 2 months

Text

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 24.5

Synopsis: enjoy

Part 24.5: fool's play

WARNING! Not safe for work or school! Also, this is an April Fool’s post so be wary

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I should've known by the intensity of his stare, by the green edges of my vision, by the way my hair stood up, and by the dark aura coming from the corner of the room that Alastor wasn't happy.

I wasn't doing anything wrong or bad, necessarily, but everyone knew how impatient and attention-seeking he could be. I, especially, knew how he hated when I danced with other people. It was a cold, celebratory night for a new year so I was allowed to enjoy myself in the haven with my friends.

My partner, whom I didn't know their name, was moving as fast as Alastor liked too and found myself able to keep up with him a lot easier. The music was loud and people were stomping their feet, clapping their hands, signing their hearts out, and dancing to it just as well.

The song ended on a loud beat and my partner left us at a slight dip. The shattering of a glass didn't reach everyone's ears, but it reached mine. I turned my head to see Alastor wiping his hand on a rag while Husker cleaned up broken glass shards on the bar counter. Alastor's eyes flashed over to mine, as sharp as a cat's and as quick as a snake's.

My dance partner brought me up to stand and I thanked him for a good dance. We separated into the crowd and I noticed him pulling another girl onto the dance floor. I nervously made my way over to my soulmate, tail waving behind me and claws clicking together nervously.

The dress I was wearing was a bright red with a black corset of sorts hugging my center. It had a beautifully stitched red rose on the left side. The front of the dress barely passed my knees while the back went a little further down. Arleen had made this dress specifically for this occasion so I could dance my heart out without worrying about stepping on the fabric. The sleeves were also short and ruffled on the top of my shoulders. The rest of it exposed onto a portion of my chest - nothing too revealing for my own preference and for poor Alastor's sake.

I was lucky enough to convince Alastor to wear something other than his usual attire. He discarded his jacket for the night and went with a bright red button up underneath a black vest. He had traded in his bowtie for a long, black and gray tie. His pants were all black, no red on the bottom, and but he still wore his signature black and red boots.

Speaking of whom, the look he was giving me was...a look.

He had his signature smile but it looked like a cross between a smile and a snarl. His eyes were sharp and had the faint outline of his radio dials in his pupils. His eyebrows were also a strange cross, not quite far up like usual but not quite a glare. He looked like he was trying to hide his annoyance behind a genuine smile. It didn't make sense, but the look he was giving me sure did.

"May I have a word, love?" he asked, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.

"Of course." I wrapped my black claws around his leading arm and walked out onto the brightly lit porch outside. The rainclouds prevented me from seeing the bright stars but that wasn't where my attention was at the moment. I was too busy trying to keep my nervous hand from holding onto his arm too harshly.

He was quiet and still for a minute. Then he gently took my hand and pulled it across his chest so I was standing in front of him. He pressed a fleeting kiss to my neck, then planted several more on the way down to my shoulder where the fabric met my skin. He went back up to my ear and pressed his nose to the spot right behind my ear. It was sending goosebumps up my arm.

"Have you found another man to take my place?" he asked in my ear, radio filter practically surrounding me.

"What?" I tried to turn my head but his hand snapped up to my jaw to hold my head straight. I grabbed his wrist and flapped my ear against his nose. "Let go--"

"Have you grown tired of me, my dear?"

"Your jealousy is really bad, Alastor," I retorted, a smile edging on my lips. He wasn't actually upset. He was just feeling a little ignored, a little forgotten. He was an attention-whore afterall.

He let out a deep hum, one that I could almost feel in my chest. "I like when you say my name. It should be the only name that comes out of those lips." His touch on my back was light as he moved it to my hips than securely around the front, holding my flush against him. I could feel his warmth radiating off him.

"Alastorrr," I purred, earning a wider grin and another chuckle. "If you wanted my attention you just needed to ask."

"Hmm, I'm not asking," he said in my ear, lips grazing across my skin, "I'm telling you. I will have your attention now."

I let go of his wrist and moved my palm to his cheek, feeling his eyelashes brush on my cheek as he closed them. I moved my hand further up to thread my fingers through his pink hair. I gently massaged the area around his ears, drawing out heavy sighs and hums from him.

Then I tightly squeezed the bottom of his ear and he reared back, a pained noise escaping him. I didn't know what it sounded like but it wasn't quite human. I jerked his claw off my chin and spun to face him. His other hand had come up to hold his injured ear. "Why--"

"I'm not one to boss around, Alastor." I rolled his name off my tongue again, my lips quirking into a smirk. His shocked expression returned to the one he had before, but with more intent.

"Is that so, my dear?" He took one long step to be up close and personal again. My head was tilted back to meet his eyes, defiance and smugness written all over me.

"I thought you knew me better than that, love." The new nickname had an effect, his smile nearly turning genuine before he recomposed himself. He lifted his red claws to touch my shoulders but I had beaten him to it, glancing down at his waist to hook two claws on his belt loops, and jerking hard to make him stumble closer.

His claws found my shoulders and the tips were dangerously close to puncturing the fabric and my skin. "Careful, darling, you don't know what game you're playing."

"But I'm willing to find out." I kept him pulled firmly against me and rested my cheek on his chest, making him canter his head just to keep eye contact with me. His claws felt like they were shaking.

"Last warning, my dear," he moved an arm to wrap around the back of my shoulders, attempting to trap me against him instead of the other way around, "If you say yes, I will not be held responsible for what happens tonight."

I moved my foot claws so they were up against his ankles, my tail coming around to wrap around one of his knees. I lifted my head, licking my dry lips once, and let go of his belt loops to run my hands up his sides. "Yes, Alastor."

The one side of his smile flatlined. His shadows engulfed us both, sprinted up to the house, and manifested us in his room. The door was slightly open but his tentacles were quick to slam it shut, his hand coming up to my chest and shoving me away. My ankles hit the footboard of the bed, causing me to fall backwards on the thick covers. I lifted myself up on my elbows in time to see him hook a claw on his tie and pull it off his neck.

I licked my lips again.

He snapped his fingers to remove the black vest and began unbuttoning his long sleeve, taking long strides to the side of the bed. He had gotten half way down as I moved further up the bed. His antlers had lengthened a little more, darkness surrounding us and making it impossible to see anything other than him and the red sheets.

He put one knee on the bed and a claw near mine. I pushed myself up to a hand, all my teeth sharpening to a point to match his smile, and leaned forward to catch the aggressive kiss. Instead, his other red claw came to my chest and shoved me back down on the mattress. I let out a breathy snarl as he shifted to straddle me, hand never leaving my chest.

As retaliation, I brought my tail up to wrap firmly around his deer tail. It made him visibly shudder and a tentacle came out to pin it down. My hand around his wrist was peeled off and also pinned. I smiled wide, running my long tongue across my newly sharpened teeth. His beady red eyes watched intently until my other hand found his thigh.

He grabbed that one too and came forward to plan a kiss on my slightly exposed chest. I didn't let him have access to my neck so when he attempted to grab my chin, I grabbed his ear. Another tentacle came out to pull my wrist tight into the mattress.

"You don't get to challenge me," he growled in my ear, now able to pull my chin to the side and run his tongue along my skin. It sent a satisfying chill down my spine. "You gave the word, now you must suffer the consequences."

"I'm not so sure suffer is the right term, Alastor," his name came smoothly off my tongue.

"Suffer and love go hand in hand, don't you think?" Before I could answer him, he bit down hard on the top of my shoulder. My knees came up since my hands were pinned, quickly earning yet another set of tentacles to hold them down. He moved his one leg to rest his knee snuggly in between my legs.

"That's...cheating," my voice wavered at the end.

"There were no rules set in place," he said in between licking up my blood, "Perhaps you should have thought about that before agreeing."

I went into his mind and held on tight to it, making him go very stiff. A moment later his own magic grabbed mine and practically engulfed me.

"I told you, my dear, you don't know what game you are playing." He filled my mind, forcing me to think of nothing other than him. I could feel the burn of his touch and see the green of his magic. It was just him.

He finally let go of my mind and I found myself completely bare underneath him. I snapped his name like a curse and attempted to my pull my limbs free to cover myself. His claw came up to brush the back of his fingers across my skin like he always did.

"You are mine, my deer. There is nothing to hide from me."

It was then that I noticed he was also bare, leg still firmly in between my own. He moved to my neck again, our skin touching and sending sparks into my brain. I felt lightheaded as his mind wrapped perfectly around mine, not yet intruding again. I hadn't noticed the other things his magic had been doing further below.

"Are you ready?" His radio filter was off, voice genuine as he asked the question. I nodded my head but that wasn't enough for him. "Tell me yes, dear."

"Yes, Alastor."

I felt something in him snap. The dominating, aggressive aura returned as quickly as it had gone. One of his claws came up to mine, dispersing the tentacle in exchange for his hand. He firmly gripped my hand and planted a kiss on my chest.

The pain came first.

My head fell back against the pillow, Alastor leaving soft, feathery kisses along my chest and stomach. He would stop, pull away just a hair, then keep pressing in. One hand gripped the sheets and the other gripped his hand tightly. His breaths in between kisses were hot and heavy.

After what felt like forever, I had adjusted a little. He licked up the tears that had fallen on the sides of my face, softly asking if he could move. His voice was much deeper and filled with need. With permission, he began to move and my back arched off the bed, voice whining his name.

My eyes blinked open. I looked around the dark room, my hand was resting on Alastor's clothed chest. My tail moved around my body as I felt my own clothing still on me. Nothing felt sore or hurt. Had it been a dream? Was it a vision?

He rolled his head to the side and pressed his face into my hair.

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Author's Note:

Happy April Fool's <3

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Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette

#demi demon #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #soulmate au #soulmates #reqs open

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goldengirlls · 2 years

Text

possesive

warnings: 18 + innocence kink + age gap (readers in her 20’s, rafe’s in his 40’s!!) + breeding kink + slight dom and submissive behavior always + bowtie kink

summary: the internet a dangerous place.

a/n: first part of dirty little secret!!! two things — don’t be a dick + show her lots of love!!! shes also slightly unedited so sorry for any errors !!!!

series master list

playlist

It was like a lion stalking its prey, stealthy and quiet.

“This dress is doing many things to me, Beautiful.” The husky voice spoke, hand wrapping around your waist, possessively. “It’s taking everything in me to behave myself.”

He wasn’t supposed to feel these things about you, especially someone your age. He was in his forties - never married, no kids, zero responsibilities except for running his fortune 500 company. He was working late one night, desperate to get off. Porn wasn’t an option. It was beyond scripted for his liking, so when someone had mentioned only fans it peaked his interest. That was until he had stumbled upon your account one night.

What he didn’t know at the time was she could see the members. He wanted more, so he started paying for the exclusive content you put out. He didn’t care about the extra money. All he knew is he craved you morning, day and night. Some call it a coincidence, he however saw it as fate. A crisp Thursday night at one of his favorite bars. He just knew he had to have you, so he bought you a drink. The rest being history.

He had to have you.

“Can’t wait to take you home and fuck you senseless.” A warm kiss being placed below your ear. His fingers tighten on your warm skin as you lean closer into his embrace.

“Bend you over on any surface and take you over and over again. Sink my teeth into your tan skin. Lick everywhere and anywhere I want.”

The more his husky voice spoke about the horrible things he had planned the wetter you got. He didn’t seem to miss the way your legs crossed over one another - he needed to have his head buried between them, as your legs dangled behind him, as you begged him to stop.

Finally having enough, you lean in closer to him, “These are for you. Say bye to everyone and come up to our room. I’ll be waiting.” You placed an item in his free black pocket, placed a kiss on his cheek and made your way up stairs.

His favorite pair. Your white lace thong. He had gifted many things throughout the relationship - this however was part of his favorite set he had bought you.

You were his desire. The things he did to you would make you burn into flames if you walked into a church. The things on porn websites that makes a person question what the fuck. He was beyond fucked. Somewhere in the midst of your secret relationship he had fallen hard for the woman that was twenty years and then a few younger than him.

“Fuck. Good girl.” He walked into the white french themed room, where he was met with his far from innocent dream. Naked, on your knees waiting for him.

“Only for you.” You crawled closer to the edge of the bed, where he now stood. His hand cupped your cheek, as he leaned down and kissed his second favorite lips.

He loved you for many reasons. You were a strong, independent, hard working young woman. Who was paying her way through law school when he first met you. His pants instantly tightening. Ambition was one of his favorite traits in a woman. His favorite thing? You were dripping with innocence. He was the first man to touch you and fuck did he love that. He corrupted you.

“May I?”

“Always.”

Your hands wrapped around his neck pulling him closer, “I want you to tie me up with your bow tie.” Doe eyed and honey lacing your voice. His lips danced over yours before connecting them into an all consuming, earth shattering, life sucking kiss.

“You’re gonna be the death of me — fuck.” Your arms tangling with lapels, begging, scratching, needing him to take it off. “Your wish is my command, only for this.” His lips wet, pink and starving for you before ripping everything off his body. The only thing left —

His bowtie.

His cold rings brushing your warm hands and tying them off. Not to be touched until every single desire was fulfilled, until your desire’s were filled. His priority — you.

“How’s that feel?” His lips connect with yours. Something he never wanted to be without. The question always haunting him how did he ever live without you for this long?

“Perfect.” Doe eyed, golden encrusted, innocent for him. His cock couldnt get any harder than it was.

His lips trailing down your body marking his favorite canvas. His favorite art. Stopping when his lips met your nipples. Taking his time to show you the attention they deserve, marking them — you. The filthy things leaving your lips only fueled his desire for you. So desperately wanting to swallow everything you were saying. Fueled him to keep going, never stopping unless he was told.

You were his.

His lips stained your soft skin as he trailed them up your thighs before connecting it to your dripping pussy and devouring you like it was his last meal. He craved you - then, now and tomorrow. His mouth grazing your clit, your back arching, begging him for more. Two fingers plunging in and out slow, deep, and lustful. His tongue tracing his name, grazing his teeth against your clit.

“Fuck - i’m gonna cum soon. Do that thing please.” His lips never left your clit, every time something sinful left your lips would only encourage his behavior and in return the vibrations he left on your clit would make your head spin and bring you closer and closer until it felt as if you couldn’t see, breathe and even think straight. He desperately wanted to edge you, over stimulate your whole existence but he was too desperate to go watch you fall apart beneath him. So, he took his tongue and traced his last name on your clit. It was always Cameron. It made him hard knowing you got off when he would spell his name. You knew what he was spelling and every time he did it it made you orgasm mind blowing.

He was obsessed. Possessive. Territorial. Whatever you want to call it. He was.

“Not yet.” His pace quickened, his wrist desperate for release but he was desperate for yours.

“Daddy please.” The sinful word was his melody. He felt as if he could cum at the sight of you. Who was he kidding it had happened before and he’d happily let it happen again.

“Cum now.” Your back arched as if it was possessed — in a sense it was by Rafe Cameron, the vulgar sounds leaving your lips, your fingernails digging into your palm needing a relief somewhere, somehow.

He was quick to move on top of you, meeting your mouth for a frendzy kiss. A much needed kiss. The faint taste of scotch, mint, a smidge of cigarette and all of you was transferred from his lips to yours. His hips grinded into yours, his cock brushing your clit each time earning a whimper.

“Please. I need you.” Your hips bucked up, leg wrapped around his waist asking for permission. Always. “Daddy.”

“How badly?” His lips met your neck marking no claiming you. He was possessive. Possessive over what was his. Like you were his property, in a twisted sense you were. The jewelry, clothes, trips — all of it was of branding. You were branded by him. “Beg. Me. Now.”

“Please fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I’m only ever this way for you. Claim me. Destroy me. I’m yours. You own me. All of me. Always daddy.”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and all of his painfully red, leaking cock was pressed into you before you could mutter out anymore. He knew you better than himself. He knew what made your body shy — what drove it insane, his favorite he knew what to do to make it tremble and fall apart by his hands and cock.

Your leg wrapped around him, which earned him hitting a deeper angle. Your back arched each time he pressed into you, each stroke different — some deeper and faster or slower and sensual. He wanted you to feel him in your stomach, organs wherever and everywhere. He was fucking hanging by a thread. He was on the cusp of a mind blowing orgasm but he needed you cum first. Always. Where he really wanted you to feel him was your heart but he feared you would never.

Each thrust — long or short was meaningful. He didn’t know how else to show or tell you. This is all he knew. Show not tell. He was crazy

“Look down gorgeous. Look at how I make you feel. How you fall apart because of me. I do this. No one else. No one will ever touch you the way I do. Ok?” His breath fanned your face as he hovered over you, never wanting to be without you. “You’re mine.”

“All yours.” You moaned out. Hands trying and failing to break free of its prison. His bowtie restricting you from marking his back, digging no branding his back with your nails.

“I have these thoughts. These all consuming thoughts—“ His stroke deeper, brushing your g spot and his hand wrapping its self around your throat, “Thoughts of you, in white all the time. This world is nothing with you and me together. Thoughts of you naked. Thoughts of you next to me like the good girl you are because you’d do anything for me-“ His hands pressing firmer then before, “because you would do anything for me.”

“Good girl only, always for you. I don’t need anyone else — fuck i’m almost there.” Your legs wrapped around him, heels pressed into his back. “Wanna be yours forever. Cum in me. Please.”

His eyes rolled to the back of his head, pace sloppy and far from forgiving, “You will marry me. And have my children. Fuck swollen belly, tits — fuck, your pussy and clit always swollen. I’d fuck you day in and day out.”

“Yes sir.”

“Cum for me Gorgeous.”

Your cum covered his cock with that. The gates of heaven opened for him. That's all it took for his cum to coat the insides of your walls. You dripped of innocence, he would always be there to claim it.

His hands found their way to untie you and placed you on his chest. His hands ran through your hair as you two found solace in this crazy unconventional relationship. A relationship that he wouldn’t trade for the world. All because of a website called OnlyFans.

His. Now and Forever.

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star-going-supernova · 7 months

Note

SB prompt for ya since it’s almost Halloween!

Gregory for Halloween goes as Freddy and Freddy absolutely goes loses it. I’m just imagining Gregory in the full outfit with shoulder pads, a cute little headband with ears, and face makeup quoting Freddy saying “way to go superstar!” with a huge grin and Freddy just melts.

The mental image of Freddy walking beside a small mini him around the plex is so cute. You can’t tell me Freddy wouldn’t scoop him up and get as many pictures of the two of them as possible.

Also the others would be good natured and jokingly talk about how it’s favoritism and Gregory would just go “well he is my favorite” and cause Freddy’s system to crash.

Here’s tumblr generated prompt number 13! I’m so glad this one got picked, so I can at least say I wrote a belated Halloween ficlet! This is pure fluff!

Double Trouble

“Hold still!” Cassie complained, not for the first time. Gregory, prone to wiggling, gripped the chair tightly to keep from fidgeting too much. He didn’t actually want to cause problems, for once.

He desperately wanted to ask if she was done yet, or at least close, but talking would mean moving, and he really was trying to be on his best behavior. He’d asked for this, after all.

After another few agonizingly long minutes, Cassie leaned back with a pleased smile. “Done! And looking fabulous, if I do say so myself.”

Gregory leapt from his chair and skidded to look in the mirror. “Cassie!” he cried, beaming. “It looks amazing!” He turned his face this way and that, admiring her work. “I’d ask if you want any help with yours, but…”

She snickered, tucking herself close to a smaller mirror on her desk to start on her own makeup for her Halloween costume. “You’d mean well,” she allowed, “but I’ll pass, thanks.”

As she preformed some witchcraft to keep her lines straight and even and symmetrical, Gregory finished getting dressed. He was overly careful not to smudge the Freddy makeup—the blue was a perfect match, honestly, he didn’t know how Cassie did it—thankful that he at least had already put on his shirt. He snapped on the bracelets and slid on the headband with the fuzzy ears and little black top hat hot-glued at a subtle angle. The bowtie was carefully safety-pinned to his shirt, nice and straight.

The shoulder pads—and Cassie had agreed with him on this—were actually the hardest part of their costumes. They were a little too big and heavy to be clipped, pinned, or glued to their shirt shoulders without them slipping or tugging on the fabric in a way that just didn’t look good.

Cassie’s dad had solved their problem: backpacks. The shoulder straps were much sturdier and could easily support the foam shoulder pads’ weight. Plus, it made it super easy to take them off without damaging the rest of their costumes.

Their backpacks were waiting by the front door with their boots. Gregory’s were snow boots covered with foam to mimic Freddy’s feet and the red part of his legs. Cassie’s were just the same, only with Roxy’s purple and black animal print.

Another bit of practicality, curtesy of Cassie’s dad, who was pretty good at arts and crafts. Gregory’s costume wouldn’t look half as awesome without his help.

Cassie finished her own makeup (much faster than she’d done Gregory’s, and that wasn’t only because he needed more) and hopped up to finish putting on her own costume. Arm bands, wolf ears—complete with earrings, just like Gregory’s—and fuzzy wolf tail. She blew her green lock of hair out of her eyes.

“That’s gonna annoy you all night,” Gregory half teased, half warned her.

She conceded with a disgruntled huff and went to stuff a few spare bobby-pins in her pocket. Pushing him over to the tall mirror hanging on the back of her bedroom door, Cassie squished them together so both their reflections fit. “How do we look?”

“Awesome. Duh.”

“Are we missing anything?”

They each critically examined each other’s costume. Luckily, they weren’t too complicated.

“Yours looks good to me,” he said.

“Yours too.” She grinned widely. “They’re gonna freak.”

Gregory snickered. “This’ll knock ’em both out, for sure.”

“Perfect,” Cassie said, eyes glinting mischievously. And people thought Gregory was the only troublemaker between them.

Cassie’s dad took a few pictures once they finished getting dressed up before driving them over to the pizzaplex. The Halloween party was in full swing by the time they got there, and thanks to their special VIP wristbands, they got to skip past all the lines. And bless Mr. King for never asking any questions about how or where they got the wristbands. He just followed along behind them with his own average VIP pass until he split off from them with a reminder to be good, stay together, and text him if they needed anything.

Unleashed, Gregory and Cassie meandered through the festivities for a while, accepting donuts and cider from one of the many treat tables set up in the building. There were some games scattered around, a few face-painting booths, and reminders for the evening’s activities plastered on every other corner. Almost everyone was in costume, even the employees and some of the STAFF bots roaming around.

“Oooh,” Cassie said, tugging at Gregory’s arm. “They turned the Fazer Blast arena into a haunted house!” She gave him a pleading look, cheering when he obligingly set off in that direction.

• • •

The annual Halloween party was, at the very least, a pleasant change of pace. It was one of the busiest nights of the year, but Freddy could not bring himself to mind how exhausting it was, not when all the children were in such high spirits.

The costumes were perhaps his favorite part, though the pizzaplex’s decorations were a close second. They were all so creative and fun to look at. There were costume contests scattered throughout the event, separated by age groups or themes or group costumes. The animatronics were not judges of the contests—they did not have opinions as robots, obviously—but they were expected to attend each one and give out the prizes once the judges had deliberated.

There was even a contest specifically for all the children who came dressed up as members of the band (with a few of Sun or Moon, or even more rarely, the DJ). One particularly memorable past winner had been accompanied by a service dog wearing a simple homemade wet floor sign bot costume.

Freddy became increasingly distracted as the night carried on. Gregory had promised to visit during the party, but there had been no sign of the boy yet. It was a large building, and there were many activities to participate in, and so it was most likely that Gregory was having fun elsewhere—he was logically aware of that, of course.

But that wasn’t helping his patience.

Gregory had mused about what he wanted to do for a costume since before October had even begun. Freddy had tried to veto all the gory suggestions, though he was still not sure if Gregory had meant them sincerely or was simply messing with him. Last he had heard, Gregory was mostly settled on a character from his favorite video game.

This was necessary information to better explain the way he short-circuited from surprise when he saw Gregory cross the stage during a costume contest. Specifically the one for kids dressed as them.

A warning flashed on his HUD that he was in danger of overheating, though he hardly noticed. His friends were all snickering around him, less subtle than normal, as they were safely at the back of the room.

Gregory did a jaunty spin to show off his Freddy costume—more than one system in Freddy’s body had to reboot, stalling out from pleased shock.

Roxy elbowed him in the side, grinning, some pointed remark surely on the tip of her tongue, when her jaw dropped open as if the hinge had suddenly broken.

On stage, Cassie, in a similarly styled Roxy costume, joined Gregory. The announcer was saying something about them being a pair, and both of them were smiling widely as Gregory twirled Cassie under his arm.

Roxy’s body visibly locked up, and her the lights of her eyes flickered wildly. Beneath his frantically whirring fans, Freddy felt a bit appreciative of karma’s quick turnabout.

You were saying? he asked pointedly over a private channel.

Shut—shut up, she sent back.

They had seen dozens, hundreds, of children dressed as them over the years. They had gotten used to it, and though it was sweet, they did not really feel anything from it anymore. It was nearly comical, then, how these two particular children made him and Roxy feel so much.

Distracted with trying to regain his composure and stop being on the verge of involuntary shut down, he failed to notice Gregory and Cassie’s approach until the two of them were standing right in front of him and Roxy.

Given Roxy’s choked little sound of surprise, she had similarly been caught off guard. Curse Monty and Chica for sidling away and not warning them.

Gregory and Cassie grinned up at them knowingly. “Like our costumes?” Gregory asked, his eyes nearly glowing with mischief.

“I know you probably see tons just like them,” Cassie said, faux shyly, tugging at the crop top layered over her gray shirt. “Or even better ones. But we did our best!”

Roxy twitched. Freddy’s attempts at internal damage control were not going well.

“Yeah,” Gregory said, not nearly as good at playing bashfully innocent when the slant of his smile warned of the one-hit knock-out verbal punch he was about to deliver. “You’re our favorites, after all, and we wanted to be just like you.”

The punch landed. Freddy’s systems flashed a brief warning before he went into a soft reset. The last thing he registered was Roxy crashing simultaneously with him, which made him feel only marginally better.

#i answered a thing #anonymous #fnaf fic #fnaf security breach #fnaf ruin #star's stories #life and times of star

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cocomintcat · 2 months

Text

Heaven's Princess (Part 2)

Welcome to hell

Part 1 || Masterlist || Part 3

Songs of the chapter: Karma (AJR) + Still Feel (Half•Alive)

You feel a soft silk like bedding and a familiar presence near you. Slowly opening your eyes, you’re laid on your side. In front of you is Saf, your tiny seraph? Guardian? Pet? You don’t really know what she is besides a floating eye with six wings that acts like a bird and a puppy combined. She does also makes cute noises that sound like a church organ*. Slowly sitting up, you take in your surroundings. A grand red room with slight apple decor. You are dressed in comfortable pajamas. You then take in your appearance. Your hands have claw like nails, your wings are tainted red underneath, you have a tail with an eye, and to add to that, your eyes have all changed to yellow with red irises. Then you realize your heavenly eye on your chest lost its wings. Saf then hovers over your head, making you reach for your halo, pulling it down only to realize it's around the newly protruding horns. Pulling the halo carefully over the horns you notice where the old eye would be is rather a cracked and bent opening. You put the halo back with the help of Saf. Everything’s changed. At least your ear wings haven’t seemed to change, but now you can’t put either away, your head wings, or your back ones. You’re going to have to relearn some motor skills with both of them being out at the same time.

Suddenly, Saf blinks like she remembers something before zooming off. You tilt your head watching her before situating yourself to sit at the edge of the bed. You don’t dare follow her. You start playing with your new tail. It was cutely heart-shaped at the end where your newest eye was.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps make their way down what you assume is the hall leading to the room you are in. Saf’s presence is accompanied by a familiar yet new presence. A man that looks similar to your brother Micheal, minus the height and red circles on his cheeks, appears in the doorway. He’s wearing a white under shirt with rolled up sleeves, a pink striped vest with a black bowtie, his pants are white and accompanied by black boots*. “Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling?” He makes his way over to you.

Looking up at the man in front of you, you give him a small smile. “Better than before, I’m guessing you caught me?”

“Yup! Your wounds healed by the time I made it to this room, and your little friend appeared too.”

“Ah, Saf… I don’t know how she was able to, but it makes sense for her.”

The man moves over to sit next to you, “Before I ask any questions, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Lucifer, you’ve probably heard tons of awful things about me, but I promise I'm not going to hurt you.”

This makes you tilt your head, “I mean mostly the winners fear you and the elders can be cranky about you. However, I've been told if I’m ever in trouble in hell to go to you first. Though it was believed to be very unlikely I’d ever even have to visit hell, much less be sent to it.”

His face becomes shocked, “Really there's still angels that- Nevermind.” He shakes his head, “Three things. How old are you? Why did you fall? Lastly, your name.”

You fidget with your hands nervously as he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Well I’m 149-” The hand on your shoulder tightens slightly before loosening and dropping off your shoulder. Both his hands are in fists on his lap. You can feel his anger simmering. “My name is Eliora, and as for how I fell… I didn’t fall, except for through a portal.”

His expression turns to shock again, “What do you mean by that?”

“I was never put on trial. I was betrayed. They betrayed Heaven, and I found out.” You look off to the side away from him. Your hands tightened onto each other. “I was going to tell the upper ranks what they were doing… She- Someone I thought was a friend tore my wings. I burned the remains. She couldn’t have them. Then I was sent to hell. I never sinned… I shouldn't be here.”

A gentle hand reassuringly lands on top of your own, and you look over at Lucifer.

“That explains why your soul is so pure and only tainted. Usually, sinners have corrupt souls on top of the taint of hell. But what were they betraying heaven with?”

“Exterminations.”

“What-”

“Sera had no permission for it. She gave permission to ‘punish’ me.”

“Damn it if she did that then… fuck.”

“I’m guessing she's the main communication between heaven and hell?”

“First is Adam, but he does more of the dirty work for her.”

“Adam?! He knows about the exterminations?!” Lucifer raises a brow at your shock.

“Yeah, was he not there or the one who punished you?”

“No?! I doubt Adam would ever harm me in such a way, but-”

“You can't be sure with everything happening.”

“It’s just I’ve been somewhat close with him for a while since he was always around Sera- Oh… I was closest with Emily, Sera’s youngest sister, and Adam was around Sera fairly often. He helped me discover my powers. Despite his behavior sometimes, I thought… I don’t know." Suddenly tears welled up in your eyes, and you were engulfed in a hug.

“I’m sorry.”

You wetly chuckle, hugging back, “It's not your fault. Sera has a ton of explaining to do.”

“She does, and she’ll get what's coming to her eventually.” Lucifer separates from the hug, keeping his hands on your shoulder. “Since she runs the exorcists and knows you're down here, we should give you a cover name, one that isn’t any nickname you had in Heaven. We don’t want her hunting you down.”

“That's true… Can you choose it? It’d be funny when it comes out that she couldn’t find me because of a name ‘The Devil’ himself gave me.” You giggle at the thought.

Lucifer lets out a little chuckle, “Sure, how 'bout (Y/n)? Hmm, little miss.”

Saf let’s out a happy noise spinning, “I think it's perfect. Saf approved, too!” This divolves you all into giggles as Saf keeps up her goofy cheers.

“Alrighty now let’s eat, and I can give you a bit of a run down of Hell.” Lucifer helps you up, leading you to a sweet and homey kitchen room with a small 4 seat table. “Sit and I’ll make some of my famous pancakes!” You giggle at his cheery attitude. ‘He really hasn’t changed. He’s exactly like how they described him.’ You felt safe and a lot more happy around Lucifer after your eventful ‘fall’. ‘Maybe some good things will come out of this.’

Soon enough, the pancakes were done. They were heavenly, pun intended. Lucifer told you about the rankings in Hell, him, and the sins along with their rings. He then explained his ring a bit more in depth, overlords, sinners, and deals. Deals were to be avoided no matter what. He told you only Carmilla Carmine would be the overlord he’d recommend going to as she’s very reasonable compared to the others. He informed you on some more things you were only vaguely aware of in hell. Though he admitted to not keeping up much the past 6 years. You didn’t ask why, feeling it was a sensitive subject.

You had stayed with Lucifer since you fell. You learned a lot about him and, in all honesty, a lot about what Sera had done. Once Lucifer learned the uppers knew nothing and it was all Sera, he had compiled all the evidence of such for the day that it would become useful. Though you knew as long as you were in hell, there wouldn't be a chance, but you couldn’t tell Lucifer how you’d get the uppers to listen. ‘I don't know why I’m so anxious to tell him… probably because he’s the brother I never met until falling into hell.’ In turn, you also learned what happened since he fell, and how Lilith just up and left. You also learned about his daughter, technically your niece. Staying with Lucifer reminded you a lot about staying with God. They really were father and son. From their depression to their flamboyant personalities. This made you quite sad and homesick, missing your father.

Lucifer also found out about your birthday. He had called his daughter explaining the whole situation a while back, and she had been wanting to meet you for some time. Lucifer made sure you were adjusted to hell a bit more before letting you meet. Only after 3 months of being in hell did you meet her. She was so sweet, this is also how you let your birthday slip after explaining you had fallen a bit after your birthday. She insisted on holding you a small celebration for your 150th. This did bond her and her father quite a bit, but things were still strained as they avoided topics about their personal lives. They mostly stuck to talking or bonding over you. You were just glad they seemed to be talking.

Soon, they held a small celebration at the manor for your 150th birthday. 2 of the sins and their partners also joined you. Asmodeus, or Ozzie, and his partner Fizzarolli, Fizz, were immediately in awe of you. Ozzie insisted you were one of the cutest kids he’s met since Charlie became an adult and welcoming you to the Hell family. Fizz was also fun. He made you laugh plenty and insisted on you performing with Bee in a karaoke duet. Then there was Queen Bee, or Bee, and Vortex. Bee was also insistent on doing a karaoke duet with you after hearing you were known for music and dance. She also was very affectionate to you, constantly wrapping an arm over your shoulder. Lucifer and Charlie had baked you a cake too. It was beautiful, a purple cake with white roses and butterflies. Each of them had given you gifts. Ozzie offered a fun trip down to visit his ring so you could hang with him and Fizz. He also gifted you a soft purple blanket, which Fizz wrapped you up like a burrito with at some point. Fizz gifted you a cute plush of a hell fox. It was pink and cute. He got the idea after asking Lucifer what you liked. Bee’s gift was a phone with all their contacts to keep in contact with them. Vortex’s gift was to escort you anytime you needed a bodyguard. Charlie then presented her gift, a cute fuzzy red fox hoodie. It was adorable. Lastly was Lucifer’s gifts, a ducky of yourself and a six winged gold fox statue*. You were so grateful to them all.

Soon enough, Charlie had convinced her dad to let you stay with her at her hotel. She had been wanting you to come help out since you were an angel you would know most about souls let into Heaven. You supported her dreams, as redemption should have been the option first before exterminations. So when she asked if you would help, you said yes. It was decided that after her upcoming TV appearance she’d pick you up. Lucifer was just happy you two were getting along and to see you doing better since your ‘fall’.

You kept an eye on Charlie's TV appearance through the news app on your phone. It definitely did not go well, but it never would have, not with how they were treating Charlie before even hearing her out. Definitely reminded you that you were in hell. Soon she called you to let you know they were on their way after picking up Angel Dust, their first guest, who apparently was either in trouble or causing trouble you couldn’t tell with the loud voices in the background. Soon enough, you see the limo pull up. Charlie runs out immediately, hugging you. She had already moved your stuff to the hotel the day before leaving you with just a bag of essentials to bring.

“It’s good to see you! Come, come! Luckily, we aren't too far from the hotel!” She guides you into the limo, taking your bag and putting it on the floor. Inside is a pink tall spider slumped in the middle. Charlie sits next to a gray color schemed girl who eyed you, ‘she’s a fallen exorcist, her halo must not be visible.’ You opted to sit on one of the side chairs. “Both of you, this is (Y/n).”

“So we were picking up an angel greaaaaat, it’s not like extermination isn't coming soon.”

“Angel, be nice! Plus she’s down here!”

“Why did we pick up a fallen angel?”

“Because Vaggie, she can help! She knows more about heaven than us, and it’s been too long since my dad has been, y’know.”

“Eh, nice to meet you, kid. Names Angel Dust.” Angel moves up next to you and puts an arm around you. “So what sin landed you in hell?”

“Angel, you can’t just ask things like that?!” This causes a bicker between him and Vaggie.

You just giggle at their antics, “Why I’m in hell isn’t all that important. I'm here now, so that’s all that matters.”

“How old are you? You’re like tiny as fuck.”

“15 physically in human years, and my height I am smaller than most angels at my age.”

Angel blinks, looking at you slightly surprised, “Your young as fuck-”

“Angel watch your language!” Vaggie exclaims.

You snort, “I’ve met Adam, trust me explicit language and curse words are nothing new.” This makes Vaggie give you a weird look, but before you could ask, the limo came to a stop.

You put all your stuff away before flopping forward on the bed. “This so nice don’t you think, Saf?” Saf chirped happily in reply as you moved to rest up on your elbows. “At least plenty of good has come out of this… This room reminds me of home...” You sit up fully with a sigh, looking up at the stars you can’t help but shed a few tears, “I miss them, I hope they’re doing ok…”

“We’re here, come on. I have to show you your room!!” Charlie grabbed your bag, dragging you along to show you your room. You were told to take as much time as you needed to make it more comfortable and settle in. She left, stating she’d be downstairs. Saf poofed in beside you, making happy noises at the nice room. It was purple and white. There were golden night sky stars hung in all sizes on the ceiling, along with flowy sheer drapes. It had a heavenly and princess vibe to it, ironically. There were also hidden LED lights, giving the room a beautiful glow.

After your cry session, you freshened up and went downstairs. Apparently, everyone had come in from outside. There were some new faces too. “Oh (Y/n) how’d you like your room!?”

“It's perfect. Thank you, Charlie.” You smile as Saf happily chirps beside you. Charlie immediately engulfed you in a hug.

“I’m so glad you like it!” she squealed. Suddenly, someone clears their throat, “Oh, right, I should introduce you to the new staff!” She then turned to 3 new faces. First, she gestures to a very tall, old-fashioned deer man. “This is Alastor. Alastor, this is (Y/n) the one who I mentioned will be helping with redemption exercises and such.”

The said man looks at you with a curious look, “Pleasure to meet you didn’t know we’d have a fallen angel helping out.”

“Ah, right then, those 2 are Husk and Nifty!” She gestured to a winged cat demon that was walking towards a newly implemented bar and a small cyclops demon. Both gave you a small wave.

“Good to see you again, kid!” Suddenly, you're picked up by Angel Dust. “Didn’t realize how small you were, damn.” He was holding you like a child.

“Probably because aside from Nifty she’s the smallest in this hotel. Not to mention, she is 15 physically, so she’s young too.” Vaggie says.

“She’s a fucking child angel?” Husk was pointing at you from behind the bar.

“Yup! So please keep the adult stuff away from her. Her innocence doesn’t need to be ruined.” You snort at what Charlie says.

“You heard worse from Adam right kid?” Angel whispers to you. Still carrying you. Saf appears chirping a yes for you. “Sup little thing, by the way… What is that?”

Everyone looks at you while you answer, “That's Saf my seraph friend, I don't really know what she is besides the type of angel she is but she's more like a pet or guardian if that makes sense.”

“Kinda, she’s cool. Makes weirdly cute noises.” Angel puts you down, but you fly up to be a bit taller. He pats your head.

“She makes sounds that are of a cathedral organ. It’s pretty cool when she uses it to follow my songs.”

“Alright I think it’s time for dinner! (Y/n) wanna help me?”

“Sure!” Alastor appears near you and Charlie.

“Need an extra set of hands, dear?” Charlie nods before leading you all to the kitchen, showing you the recipes she has planned for the night. During this cooking, Alastor ends up in a conversation telling you about the food he used to make with his mother. This leads to him telling you about some of the popular foods from his time alive in louisiana. In turn, you told him about a movie you were introduced to in Heaven from earth, this led to you explaining the disney princess and the frog story. Charlie seemed to be happy watching you oddly get along with the oh so terrifying radio demon. Soon enough, the food was done.

Everyone sat and ate, getting to know each other. Angel asked you occasional questions about heaven. You answered them the best you could without giving yourself away in the slightest.

*kinda like the honk in Sky children of the light!

*his ‘final battle’ outfit aka his usual minus his coat and hat.

*inspired by that six winged duck in charlie’s childhood

Btw background info: God has no clue what time it is anymore nor that Eliora is missing, between the family doing their jobs or looking for Elly no one told their father in fear of worsening his depressive episode (Not the right choice but this'll make for a worthy punishment of those who wronged our girl!)

Taglist: (comment if you want to be added :D)

@fluffy-koalala

#Spotify #hazbin hotel #mintysseraphreader #platonic hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x reader platonic #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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wielderofthechainsaw · 4 months

Text

IM GONNA GO ON A RAMBLE ABOUT BARNABY BECAUSE I FUCUCUCIDUUDIDUD ARE UP IR LOVE GIM

IM BEING SO FR BARNABY IS THE BEST BBU CHARACTER AND I HAVE VALID REASONING

HE HAS A CASTLE/MANOR LIKE BUDDYS RICH AF FOR THAT HE GOT FUCKING CUSTOM COFFIN WINDOWS AND EVERYTHING HUBBA HUBBA 😍(BIG J I DONT SIMP FOR HIM)

HE GOES BY ALL PRONOUNS LIKE A BADDIE LIKE HES A OARTY PLANNER HE DOESNT HAVE TIME FOR PRONOUNS YOU WOKE BASTARDS

AUTISTIC KING😝😝😝

HIS LAUGH IS MADE OF SILLY LITTLE OWL HOOTS ITS SO CUTE

HE WEARS PINK. AND I MEAN A BEAUTIFUL SHADE OF PINK LIKE LOOK

ITS SO PRETTY I CANT😭🙏

6. HES PLAYED BY ALASTORS OLD SINGING VOICE AND HAS A SUPER WIDE VOCAL RANGE BECAUSE HES A THESPIAN

7. TRAUMA🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

8. HIS MOUTH AND EYES ARE INSPIRED BY JACK-O-LANTERNS AND ITS SO COOL

9. HIS SONG IS DTRAIGHT FIRE IM LISTENING TO IT AS I TYPE THIS 🔥🔥

10. No seriously listen to it its called “a million gruesome ways to die” its on Spotify an dyoutube

11. HE’LL KILL YOU FREE OF CHARGE LIKE ZAMN HONEY I CAN STAY IN YOUR CASTLE FOR THE LOW PRICE OF MY MORTALITY AWOOGA 😘😘😘😘

12. HE USED TO BE OBSESSED WITH CHEMISTRY AND SCIENCE AND FANCY CHEESES AND ITS SO CUTE

FUCK HES SO SILLY OK OK MOVING ON

13. HE HAS THESE LITTLE ASSISTANTS CALLED BARNABOOS AND IM GONNA FUCKING KILL MYSELF BECASUE THAT NAME IS BOMB DIGGITY🤭🤭🤭

14. HE LOOKS LIKE A HARPY EAGLE LOWKEY EVEN THOUGH HES AN OWL SO THATS TWO OF MY FAV BIRDS IN ONE WTFFFFF

^ fullscreen to see what i mean

15. MY HANDS ARE STARTKNG TO CRAMP DO THISLL BE THE LAST ONE BUT HIS BOWTIE IN-GAME LOOKS LIKE MINNIE MOUSES LOWKEY

OK BYE

EDIT: MY HANDS FEEL BETTER AND I HAVE MORE

16: HE CAN HOLD HIS TRUSTY KNIFE WITH HIS FEET LIKE A GIRLBOSS BECAUSE ITS HARD TO HOLD THINGS WITH HIS WINGS IG

17. HE CAN STRETCH HIS LIMBS AND NECK LIKE ELASTAGIRL OR WHATEVER HER NAME IS

18. I LOVE HALLOWEEN AND HIS ENTIRE THEME IS HALLOWEEN AND THATS SO CUTE IMO

19. THERES A VIDEO ON THE OFFICAL BBU CHANNEL OF HIM BEING A JUDGE AND SCREAMS “SHUT UP!” TO THE JURY OF HIS BARNABOOS AND ITS SO SILLY

20. I LIKE TALL MEN AND BUDDYS PROBABLY OVER 60 FEET TALL

21. HIS VOICE IS SO CUTE

22. HERES A DRAWING OF HIM I MADE TO SHOW HOW BESUTIFUL HE IS (his face is right side up on purpose btw)

OK THATS ALL FOR NOW, DEUCES‼️

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

Text

Starstruck - Pedro Pascal x reader/OC

Summary: Y//N plays Eleanor Winchester in Supernatural and is on the red carpet for season 13 where she spots her heartthrob: Pedro Pascal.

SORT OF LINKS TO Terrible at Secrets

Words: 1.3K

Warnings: anxiety (?)

Notes: request by @princessmermaid1289 and photos of dress and hair at the bottom.

Y/N’s POV:

Being part of such a big show like Supernatural is always breathtaking, especially getting to meet all the other big stars and my fans. I never expected to have such an impact or make a family with J2M. Jared and Jensen immediately took me under their wings when I joined in season seven as Sam and Dean’s little sister - Eleanor aka. Nell

Being anxious and an actor is always something interesting but I have such an amazing family backing me and getting rid of any awkward questions aimed my way during conventions. I love conventions and red carpets, being able to meet my own idols of which I have plenty. I find it so much fun talking to them and getting the fans opinions on everything. My fans are my biggest critics and they’re how I improve.

Tonights a red carpet for our season 13 with Alexander Calvert. He’s very cute and bubbly and I love him like a little brother and the fans seem to love him even more. He’s going to be big, I just know it, especially when the fans scream at him wrapping his arms around my waist and hugging me as the cameras flash.

“Heyyy Y/N,” Jensen appears at my other side, elbowing me and leans down enough he can whisper quiet enough the cameras and paparazzi don’t catch it, “Your man crush is over there, go say hi.”

I follow his gaze to see the one and only Pedro Pascal. He guest starred in an episode but sadly I never got to see or meet him as it wasn’t with me. My character was off with Kelly and Castiel while Pedro was with Jensen and Jared and I will admit it broke my heart a little as I have always had a huge crush on the sweetheart. He looks drop dead in that crisp white suit and black bowtie. His hair is so fluffy and I just wanna run my hands through it from here.

“Go!” Alex is agreeing and I’m being pushed in Pedro’s direction so lightly jog over, trying not to trip over my dress. It’s a beautiful thing, not my personal choice but I have to admit it looks beautiful and it makes me feel beautiful when I’m quite a rough and tough person having been around J2M for pretty much eight years. It’s black and flows, making me feel like a character from a fairytale, the sleeves off the shoulder and it sparkles in the flash of the cameras. I think it’s made from a mixture of satin and lace with how light it is despite how heavy and full it looks. It seems my stylist was going for a vintage look as my strawberry blonde hair is pinned back in light curls, it reminds me a longer version of Susan Pevensie’s hair from the last movie where Lucy becomes Susan. I feel beautiful.

“Hi,” I place a trembling hand on Pedro’s shoulder, causing him to turn to see me. His face breaks into that contagious grin as he looks me up and down with no abash. It has me flushing a bright red, especially when he makes room for me, wrapping a large hand around my waist.

“Hi there mama,” Pedro’s voice is like velvet and has me weak at the knees. He’s pulling me flush against the side and begin to pose for the paparazzi again, a huge grin on his face so I compose myself and do the same, putting my arm around his back. He’s a lot taller than I realise so it’s easy for me to rest my head on his shoulder and I think I’m going to go deaf at the sound that erupts from the fans as Pedro glances down at me with a look that makes me balling his jacket in the hand that’s around his back. He lips are suddenly near my ear as he whispers “Easy darlin,” while his thumb rubs soothingly at my hip.

We have move on so Jared and Gen can take our stops and I prepare to go back to Alex as Misha has Vicki and Jensen has Danneel but Pedro grasps my hand in his calloused one. I stumble slightly but he steadies me and my mind races because this is going to be big news and everyone is going to realise I have the biggest crush on Pedro Pascal… who is leading me to the next photo spot.

The cameras continue to blind me and I have to grip Pedro’s hand tighter as I can feel my anxiety bubbling. I usually try to do the red carpets quickly and usually Jensen; Jared and Misha there to ground me. This beautiful man beside seems to understand what’s happening and is sending one last wave at the cameras before he’s leading me towards the Entertainment Weekly interviewer.

“Hello there mommy and daddy,” She greets us and feel myself flush again as this never happens to me. I can’t remember her name as I was meant to only talk to a tiktoker turning interviewer as I’m not as big as my on screen brothers.

“Hey there,” Pedro sends her an amusing smile, keeping a tight grip on my waist.

“Well this is a nice surprise, I’m a little star stuck right now,” The interviewer turns her attention to me, “I have to admit I’m a huge fan of you and your character, Eleanor Winchester for those who don’t know.” She glances back at the camera and I’m subconsciously grabbing Pedro’s free hand, hoping the camera doesn’t pick up on.

“Oh! Well, thank you.” I’m laughing nervously, “I’m also star stuck!”

“You’re the star here,” Pedro nudges me and I can just hear all the fan edits about to be spamming my social media feeds in the morning but I don’t care because I’m currently pressed against the Pedro Pascal and he’s acting like I’m the big star, not him. Somehow I feel like royalty, even when the interviewer gets on with her planned interview with Pedro and I’ve never felt like this. I just alternate between watching the way Pedro throws his head back in a hearty laugh every time the interview flirts with me and the way the cameras are flashing blindingly. I should be panicked and breathless right now but that hand on my hip is flexing every so often and somehow it keeps me grounded and this is probably the first red carpet I’ve been able to breathe.

“Well, here’s the question I think most will be asking in the morning, is there something here?” The interviewer is asking, her question making my head snapping round so fast I’m surprised I don’t get whiplash, watching Pedro to see what he says as I try to slow my breathing.

“I wouldn’t mind having a date with miss Y/N here but we’ll have to see.” He’s sending her wink then pulling me even closer to him and I just look at the camera and fake swoon, laughing lightly in shock.

“I think I’m hallucinating,” I tell her and it causing everyone in earshot to break into laughter as Pedro presses a kiss to my cheek, the light drag of his beard taking the air from my lungs, “Definitely hallucinating.”

“She says yes,” Jared’s towering frame appears behind us both, patting Pedro on the shoulders, “Of course she wants to go on a date with Pedro.”

“A date it is it seems.” Pedro’s grin seems to get wider and I’m not really sure what’s happening right now. I might have a date with the Pedro Pascal and my two older brother figures may have set me up it seems, especially from the way Jared and Jensen high five as they walk away and the way Gen sends me a wink.

Oh my fucking god. I’m going on a date with Pedro Pascal.

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