#*waggles eyebrows so hard they fall off*
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insurged · 3 months ago
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what about aus/plots in a world where the antagonists won though? where baldur's gate was lost to the absolute and now everyone has to survive and get by without turning into a mindflayer? or where villains won and the heroes lost and are now the minority while the rest of the world is in a stand still of being unable to help them because of fear of retribution?
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jobean12-blog · 8 months ago
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Twisted Games
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Word Count: 2.816
Summary: You never win when you play games with Joel but while losing in a game of Twister you get an idea that might just make you a winner...or not.
Author's Note: I just love the idea of all the tension and teasing but honestly...I'd never last haha. Thank you all so much for reading! Muhch love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: flirting, teasing, fun, tension, fluff, spiciness, established relationship.
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Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
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You’re practically in a bow pose with two feet spread out on different colors and one hand behind you on another. Your back is arched and your chest is right in Joel’s face. He’s smiling over you and licking his lips.
“I love this game,” he chuckles deviously. “Next time we play naked.”
You roll your eyes and spin the Twister wheel with your one free hand.
“Shit,” you mutter when you see what it lands on. “Ok! I can do this!”
When you start to move your body your position becomes even more precarious and now you’re pressed closer to him. His lips touch your collarbone in a soft kiss.
“Don’t! That’s so unfair!” you whine.
“Aw come on darlin.’ I can’t resist!”
You sigh and refocus but to no avail. The moment you reach your hand to the next colored circle your body collapses to the mat. He’s instantly on you, pinning you to the Twister mat and grinning down at you.
“UGH! I’m never playing anything with you again!”
“Aw come on darlin.’ Don’t be a sore loser now.”
You try to get your arms under his chest so you can push him off you but it’s hard to move.
“Get off me!”
He kisses you instead.
“Don’t be mad,” he coos against your lips. “It’s just a game.”
You manage to wiggle your arms free in his distracted state and comb your fingers through his hair.
“Joel…”
“Hmm?” he hums while trailing his lips along your jaw.
He stops just below your ear and kisses your skin softly before nipping your earlobe.
“You want me to start letting you win?” he whispers.
“No!” you huff and it quickly dissolves into sigh as he continues to place kisses down your neck.
His free hand pushes at your knee and he spreads your legs wide, settling between them and rocking his hips.
“See, this is why Twister is my favorite game…” he murmurs as the same hand sneaks down your stomach.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, letting your legs fall open even wider. “It’s all a win for you!”
“Damn right it is,” he says, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your leggings.
You drag your hands down his back and crane your neck to give his lips better access.
Suddenly you go still and your lips spread into a mischievous grin.
“What?” he grumbles, lifting his eyes to yours.
“I know a game I can win at….”
He raises a challenging brow.
You narrow your eyes and try to bump him off you.
“Nuh uh darlin.’ Start talkin’.”
“Fine, but don’t you start distracting me,” you warn.
His fingertips trace the outline of your panties but nothing more as he looks at you expectantly.
“Ok. So. I bet I can hold out longer for sex.”
“What?” he asks again, stopping his movement. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I don’t but...I know I can beat you at least.”
He’s silent for a few seconds and your eyes wander over his face, your fingers absentmindedly grazing the outline of his beard and the gray patches throughout. You can still feel the warmth of his hand between your legs and the hardness between his and you start to second guess your idea.
“Fine,” he says. “But how long are we doing this for?”
You open your mouth but he quickly cuts you off.
“Any more than three days is a hard NO.”
Your lips lift into a sideways smirk. “This is going to be easier than I thought.”
He waggles his eyebrows. “Is that so?”
“Yep,” you say and pop the p. “Three days it is! Since that seems to be your limit,” you snicker.
His fingers begin to move again, teasingly inching downward.
“Are we starting today?” he asks.
He brushes a finger along the damp fabric and gives you a wink.
“No,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady.
“That’s good,” he croons as he pushes the fabric to the side.
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The morning sun rises and warms the bedroom, bathing it in a soft golden light as you begin to awaken.
Joel’s strong arm is draped over your waist and his bare chest is pressed to your back.
“Mornin’ darlin’ he mumbles, tugging you closer.
“Hi,” you whisper and snuggle into him.
He hitches a leg over your thigh and you feel him pulse against you. He starts to kiss your neck as his hand splays at your stomach and pushes your shirt up.
You drag your teeth over your bottom lip, both to stifle your low moan of pleasure and your near victory cheer.
With a wiggle you silently ask for more but suddenly he tenses behind you.
“FUCK,” he groans and rolls away from you.
“HEY!” you pout, sitting up and staring at him.
“Don’t hey me!” he says, running a hand through his already mussed mess of dark curls. “I’m going to take a cold shower.”
You watch him walk off to the bathroom and fall back with a thump onto your pillow.
“SO CLOSE!” you whisper shout to yourself.
When he’s ready to leave for work, he sets his coffee in the sink and wraps you in his arms, drawing out a sweet kiss that turns much more heated once he cages you against the counter and his hands start to wander.
“Joel,” you whine, chasing his lips when he pulls away.
“See you later darlin’,” he purrs with a wink.
You leave for work shortly after, clearly distracted and frustrated.
“What’s up your ass today?” Tommy asks Joel as they load materials into the back of the pick-up truck.
Joel just glares in his brother’s direction.
“Fine,” Tommy says with a lopsided smile. “Don’t share.”
By the time you get home from work your mood has soured and you’re not even sure why you proposed the idea. You’re horny and frustrated and you want to blame Joel.
“Hi darlin’,” he says when he walks in an hour later. “How was your day?”
You shrug and mumble, “uneventful. You?”
“Other than Tommy being a usual pain in my ass, the same,” he answers and sits down next to you.
He rests his hand on your knee and starts to rub small circles with his thumb, his other hand snaking around your neck to pull you closer for a kiss.
You crawl into his lap and straddle his waist, melting into the kiss and dragging your hands down his chest.
His fingers dance along your thighs and he sighs out your name when you start to press your lips to his neck.
“I hate this game,” he whispers.
You want to agree but your competitive side wins out in the moment and you lean back and give him a smug smile.
“We’re almost through day one!” you sing.
“And I haven’t lost yet!” he shoots back.
“Forty-eight more hours to go…” you taunt.
He stops your wiggling, keeping you still on his lap.
“I’m starving,” he grumbles and gently lifts you off him. “Let’s have dinner.”
You let out an exasperated sigh and huff.
“This is your fault,” he says as he opens the fridge. “You can just give up now and I’ll have you screamin’ my name in no time.”
He looks over at you with dark eyes filled with promise.
“Let just make dinner,” you mutter and peel yourself off the couch.
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The next morning starts in much the same way except this time it’s you that tears yourself away first and stomps to the bathroom.
Joel follows right behind and opens the shower curtain, stepping under the hot water with you.
“What are you doing?” you squeak.
“Taking a shower. I usually get in first…”
He smiles as the water runs down his skin. Your eyes follow the rivulets, watching them closely as they meander over the dips and curves of his muscles.
“You don’t play fair,” you hiss.
“I’m gonna be late,” he counters.
He reaches over you to grab his shampoo.
“Joel…keep that thing away from me.”
He stays close, deliberately bumping into you as much as possible.
“What? The shower isn’t that big. You’re naked. What do you expect?” he says with a nonchalant shrug.
You turn to face him and hold out your body wash. “Do my back?” you ask sweetly.
He purses his lips and glares.
“Sure darlin’” he answers through gritted teeth.
He lathers the wash in his hands and starts to smooth them along your shoulders and back. He traces the curve of your spine and your ass, squeezing and massages as he goes. You lean into him, feeling him hard against your back.
His hands slide around your waist to your stomach and he reaches up to your breasts, kneading them softly as he washes. Then he moves lower and you instinctively arch into his touch and spread your legs.
“Fucking hell,” he growls. “You’re clean enough!”
With that he quickly rinses his hair and rips the shower curtain open, grabbing a towel and grumbling all the way back to the bedroom.
You turn the water cold and let it run over your heated skin, resting your head to the tiles and silently cursing yourself.
“Think Tommy and I are gonna start on the garden bed tomorrow,” Joel says when you come down the steps. “This way you can start planting.”
Your face brightens and you rush to him, throwing your arms around his neck.
“Really?” you ask. “Are you done with the other job?”
“We will be today,” he says and pulls you in for a kiss.
The two of you manage to get through dinner that night and go to sleep cuddling. You let the exhaustion of the day take over and will yourself to sleep.
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The sky is still dark with only a sliver of orange glow peeking out over the horizon when you wake to Joel’s incoherent mumbling.
His arm slips around your waist and he tugs you into him and his hands start to roam, softly tracing your curves while his lips find your shoulder.
You hum in pleasure and turn to face him, pressing closer.
He starts to tug at your panties and push your thighs apart.
“Joel?” you whisper, realizing he’s half asleep.
When all he does is sigh your name you take his face in your hands and start to pepper him with kisses.
“Baby, wake up.”
His eyes pop open and he looks at you sleepily.
“Why did you wake me?” he asks. “You ok?”
“I’m fine,” you whisper.
“I was having the best dream,” he sighs.
As he starts to wake up more and realize his position he gets grumpier.
“I wasn’t dreaming,” he says more to himself than you. “This fucking sucks!”
He rolls away and rubs his hands over his face.
“Then just give in and lose,” you say quietly.
His eyes find yours and you can see the war of emotions whirling inside them.
“Darlin’…”
With a pained expression he pushes off the bed and goes to shower, locking the door behind him.
“Damn it!” you groan when you hear it click. “So close again!”
You’ve taken the day off to prepare your seedlings and do some last-minute shopping. Tommy shows up with a smile and a hug and whispers, “what’s been his problem this week?”
You steel yourself and give him a shake of your head. “No idea! Why?”
“Well, something crawled up his ass because he’s been grumpier than usual!”
With a laugh you give Tommy a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and turn away so he can’t see your expression of glee. At least you’re extra sure Joel’s suffering too.
You leave the boys to go to the garden store, enjoying strolling around and taking your time. When you return with several new plants you find Joel and Tommy hard at work.
“Hey darlin’” Joel says when you pull up and roll down the window.
He rests the shovel in the soil and puts his hand on his hip, popping his knee out as he exhales.
“Need help carrying anything?”
As he waits for an answer you just stare, sweeping your eyes over him from head to toe.
He’s just sweaty enough. His tan skin glistening in the sunlight and his dark hair sticking to the back of his neck. His tee shirt is clinging to the outline of his broad shoulders and the muscles in his forearms flex and bulge as he adjusts the shovel and starts digging again. His dark jeans are pulled tight over his thick thighs and his hands dwarf the handle of the tool.
Tommy watches the whole exchange with a bemused expression.
“Did you need help?” Joel asks again after he throws a few more shovels full of soil in the planter.
“Huh?” you ask, clearly dazed.
He stabs the shovel into the ground and wipes his hands on his jeans, rounding the car and tapping on the trunk.
You open it but stay in the car and watch him carry your plants to the steps.
“You ok?” Tommy asks as he leans on the window.
“Fine,” you say quietly as you watch Joel bend down. “I’m just hot…and thirsty,” you trail off.
Tommy moves away when you open the door.
“Want something?” you ask him.
“Sure, something cold would be nice.”
You nod and head into the house, skirting Joel who’s rearranging your plants and avoiding any eye contact with either of them.
You pour three glasses of cold lemonade with ice and lift one to your lips, drinking down some of the cool liquid then pressing it to your face to cool your skin.
“Fuck,” you mutter quietly and turn to look out the front window.
Joel’s carrying tools from the truck and every time he lifts something his shirt rides up and exposes the dark trail of hair below his belly button.
You’re so thirsty.
You take another long gulp then set the glass down and lean against the counter. Your lost in your lascivious thoughts and never hear Joel come in. It isn’t until he’s close enough that you can smell his distinct scent that you startle and find his dark gaze on you.
“Tommy said you were gettin’ drinks,” he states and inches closer, slowly and carefully like he’s approaching a feral animal.
“I was,” you breathe out and enjoy a closer look at him.
He stands toe to toe with you and says your name in a questioning tone. You snap out of your pensive state and focus your eyes on his handsome face. He’s studying you with a look that’s intense and at the same time his eyes sparkle.
He removes the glass from your hand and sets it on the counter, taking your palm and kissing it softly.
“Still,” he starts and checks his watch, “nine hours left in the day.”
“Oh,” you say softly, your breath hitching when he turns your hand in his and kisses along your knuckles. “Shouldn’t you get back to work?”
Your words are weak and you’re giving everything away- and he knows it.
“You’re about to lose at your own game darlin’,” he simpers.
His words momentarily clear your head and you press yourself back against the counter, putting a small amount of space between you both.
“Why me?” you ask. “You’re the one who came in house looking for trouble.”
He grabs your waist and before you can protest you’re pressed against every inch of him.
“Trouble?” he whispers along the shell of your ear.
You can feel how hard he is and it makes you shiver with anticipation.
“I’m warnin’ you darlin’.”
“Joel…”
He rubs the pad of calloused thumb across your bottom lip. The need to kiss you is overwhelming, but he somehow manages to hold back and simply brushes his lips over yours then dips his head to run his nose along the column of your neck with a deep inhale.
When he stops his mouth is hovering over your ear. “ Let me be clear darlin.’ Tonight when I finally get between those legs I’m going to fuck you over and over again to make up for the last three days. With my fingers, my tongue…my cock. You’re going to feel me every time you take a step.”
Your breath races in and out of your lungs, every part of you reacting to his promised words. But you’re unwilling to completely relinquish control so you trail your fingers down his stomach, reaching under his shirt to softly graze them through that dark trail of hair and loving how his muscles contract.
“You better.”
The words are whispered and breathy but you manage to get them out before gently pushing on his chest and slipping from his grasp.
His muttered curses are the last thing you hear before you rush up the steps for another cold shower.
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@blackwidownat2814 @hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989 @lizette50
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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months ago
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Goo Kim x Reader: One Night
G/N. Crazy Stupid Love Emma Stone/Ryan Gosling scene but make it Lookism. Masterlists
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"Are you nervous?" Goo murmurs, a smile tugs at his lips when he feels you trembling.
He peers down at you and pauses. His hand, having worked its way under your top and caressing your bare skin - stops.
Tonight, you have aimed for sexy and sensual. It worked well. Fake it until you make it, and you made it when this handsome blonde at the bar invited you back to his apartment for a night of debauchery.
But your mask slips. It's hard to keep it on, y'know. When you are both half naked, about to be even more naked, there's nowhere left to hide.
Your nervousness comes out as a snort, because duh and you think some of your previous sexy and sensual points are deducted.
"Yeah," you respond with an awkward giggle. Then your mouth runs before your single brain cell can.
"- Also, something has been digging into my back all this time," Goo waggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, "No. Definitely not. I think it's a spring or something or I don't know... crumbs? Have you been eating in bed? Either way I think this is the most uncomfortable mattress I've ever laid on. Your silk bed sheets are something else though - who even has silk bed sheets? It's like something from the 80s along with waterbeds but god they feel so fucking great on my legs."
Goo is stunned into silence momentarily before he barks out a laugh.
He rolls off you and onto the left side on the bed, full body wriggling around slightly, experiencing the silk bed sheets for himself and chuckles.
"Sweetheart, you're right. And I've always hated this mattress." He sighs, adding, "I got conned by fucking influencers."
You whip your head towards him and give him a look, "Influencers?! What. Is this those fancy brands that I've been seeing them shill all over my social media-"
Goo turns towards you, a pout on his lips and eyebrows pinched together in a pitiful expression. "Yep. I've hated it since the first night."
"Then why didn't you return it!"
He shrugs and you laugh, your previous nervousness dissipating.
"I always wondered what idiot would fall for those."
"Hey!"
A brief moment of silence then-
"Did you buy these sheets from an infomercial or something?"
"Excuse me!" Goo shuffles, angles himself so he's fully facing you. Head held up by the palm of his hand and resting his elbow on the mattress.
There's mischief, life in his face that wasn't there earlier tonight. "Sue me. I have money to spend, sometimes I can't sleep, and those sales people sell things so well."
You let out another unrefined snort, amused by this guy.
Suddenly finding there's so much personality, a touch of vulnerability revealed in that statement, behind the expensive glasses, his tailored suit and his muscled body.
"Wanna see what other crap I've bought?"
.
.
You both wander around his apartment, which turned out to be a huge fucking penthouse now that he has the light on and is giving you a guided tour, in your underwear. 
Goo, no shame and expanses of skin on show, and you follow closely behind with his silk sheets wrapped loosely around your body.
He gestures at what you assume to be a coffee machine sitting proudly on his kitchen countertop. All sleek and stainless steel with dials and buttons on every surface.
"I can't even use this thing. I've had it for 2 years."
"Look," Goo opens an overhead kitchen cupboard, gesticulating like he's going to perform a magic trick, and dramatically shows you rows and rows of trendy kitchen gadgets, no doubt also purchased during moments of insomnia. Pizza scissors, spiralizer, bread maker, air fryer, pressure cooker.
"Never used."
"This," he points at the far wall, and you squint, barely making out a framed art piece of the ugliest monkey face you have ever seen. But hey, art is subjective, right-
"-is an NFT. I bought that too."
That tips you over the edge.
You cackle and cackle, doubled over and holding onto him for balance.
.
.
There's a dusty segway sitting pitifully in the corner of an unused spare room.
You jump out from round a corner, LED mask on your face and flashing a menacing red - "Boo!"and Goo actually jumps.
A lonely treadmill, placed beneath one of those fancy sit-stand desk catches your eye.  Goo smirks, "Babe, I don't even have a desk job."
Instead of spending all night tangled in his silk bedsheets together, Goo jogs down memory lane of sleepless nights and impulse buys with you by his side.
Your laughter starts to tinge all his memories.
Your good natured ribbing and mocking.
His hyena cackle joins yours, and he wonders when was the last time he was able to laugh with someone. Has he ever spent an entire night talking to someone like this?
"Ask me something personal." He requests, both now lying on his uncomfortable bed. You in his arms, hair tickling his chin.
"What do you want from life?"
"To make money."
"Why?"
"I want to be rich."
"Why?"
"Well, who doesn't want to be rich, sweetheart."
"Yeah but why do you?"
Goo remembers running errands, doing anything to earn some money. Anything for a price. His cousin calling in his services, and he happily beat up some middle schoolers to help him (and who was it again, Tabasco?) out.
He doesn't really know where his thirst for money making has come from. Maybe there's some deep set trauma from his life pre-juvie or some shit he should pay a therapist to decipher but alas.
He tells you this, all this and more. At some point, his head is the one lying on your chest and you absentmindedly stroke through his blonde locks, humming noises of encouragement, listening to his words.
Weird, Goo thinks, when he finally drifts off to sleep with you snoring gently beside him. 
The morning sun already filters through the blinds, and the hustle and bustle of Seoul has started to pick up.
How comfortable this feels. How natural your connection with him is. How this is the spark people dream about, and somehow it has hit him when he wasn’t looking for anything more.
That someone as different to him as you are, that is only ever supposed to be company for a few hours, a night at best, could spell trouble. Raise his hackles, send his alarms blaring.
When he's usually the walking red flag.
Because you’ve got him thinking. A lot. That shrewd brain hidden behind playfulness has been whirring; wondering about what happens if you become a regular fixture.
Maybe you might doom him, in the end. Maybe this will lead to a dead end and nothing more.
But he's curious enough, the spark is shining brightly enough, to see where else you might lead him to too.
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mr-cha-n · 5 months ago
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Echoes of Summer
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Pairings: Kwon Soonyoung x fem!reader, suggestions of Kim Mingyu x fem!reader
Genres: fluff, angst, camp counsellors AU, sunshine x sunshine
Warnings: drinking, profanities, mentions of sex
Word Count: 18.7k
Summary: Get ready for the most unforgettable summer yet at Camp Logan, where lifelong memories are made, friendships are strengthened, and old crushes make new appearances.
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In the backseat of your best friend’s pink Honda Jazz, with Britney and Fergie blasting on the radio and wind rushing through your hair from the rolled-down windows – it has never felt more like summer break.
As you speed down the highway, Emma turns around from the passenger seat to offer you a sip of her Spire remix, which you eagerly accept.
“Are we getting close?” She yells over the music.
You nod as you gulp down the fizzy drink, unable to respond with your mouth full. Unfolding the map beside you, you check the upcoming junction.
“Yeah! I think it’s only three more junctions?” You reply, grinning with excitement.
“Seeing how pumped you are right now almost makes me jealous,” Jane laughs from the driver’s seat, catching your eye in the rearview mirror. “Except, then I remember you’re going to summer camp as an adult, without getting to do any of the cool stuff.”
“That’s not true!” You gasp, feigning offence. “I don’t have to follow the rules, just enforce them – so once the kids are asleep, I can do whatever I want!”
“Oh, you’re adorable.” Emma chuckles. “Those kids are gonna wear you our so much, you’ll be asleep before they are.”
You pout at her, huffing in disagreement.
Sure, being a camp leader might not be everyone’s idea of a great summer, but they at least have to admit that it would be fun. What could be better than running around, doing fun activities, and helping kids have the best time ever?
Well, Jane and Emma would probably argue that their trip to Majorca would be more fun – but you’re convinced that they’re underestimating just how awesome campfires and s’mores can be.
“Okay, how about this – if you have a summer fling with a hot, mysterious camp counsellor that you never see again, I’ll consider your summer better than ours.”
You snort at the suggestion, a bit of the fizz going up your nose, making you sneeze.
“When I was a kid, I used to write diary entries every day at camp wishing for a passionate summer romance with another camper,” You admit after a moment. “It was always about the same kid – Kim Mingyu – we went every year, and I think I ended up talking to him all of twice?”
“Wow, new (Y/n) lore! That explains why you’re such a hopeless loser when it comes to crushes.” Emma teases.
“I can’t even deny it!” You dramatically fall back into your seat in mock despair. “It’s hard being a hopeless romantic in a world where everyone else is so … practical.”
Jane chuckles, shifting her seat as she glances at you in the mirror. “You say that now, but just wait. True romance only comes when you’re not expecting it.”
You roll your eyes, though you can’t help but smile at the thought. “You two are just setting me up for disappointment. What if all the other counsellors are, like, sixty?”
“Then you’ll get some great life advice,” Emma quips, twisting around to give you a playful grin.
“Besides, age is just a number!” Jane adds, waggling her eyebrows suggestively and making you all burst into laughter.
“To be honest, I think you’ll be too busy looking for frogs to look for a prince. You wouldn’t realise someone was into you if they hit you round the head with it.” Emma snorts.
“Yeah, yeah – that was one time!”
“The frogs or the crush?”
“Alright! We can’t all be Casanova’s now can we? Besides, you’re probably right – I do plan on going frog catching and it might take a while.”
You lean backwards, posing with crossed arms and a nodding head. Your pretence at coolness is unfortunately cut off quickly, as Jane slams the car down the junction exit that she’d almost missed, toppling you back into your seat.
A chorus of giggles explodes in the car.
“Do you think you’re going to be able to survive on your own for a month?” Jane chortles.
“The real question is – do you think you’re going to be able to survive a month without me?” You respond, playfully patting her shoulder.
“It’s going to be tough.” Emma agrees with mock seriousness, although you can feel the tender truth to her words. “Luckily, we’ll have sexy Spanish men and bottles of champagne to drown our sorrows in.”
The road in front of you becomes narrower, winding through dense woods, and the familiar scent of pine fills the air.
“That’s it!” You exclaim, sitting up straighter, your heart beating a little faster.
As the camp entrance comes into view, marked by a large wooden sign that reads ‘Camp Logan’, you can’t help but feel a thrill of anticipation. It’s been just under a decade since you were last here, and everything feels exactly the same as you remember.
The car pulls up to the inlet at the start of the woodchip trail leading into the camp. Leaning all the way forward, you embrace your two friends in a long hug, thanking them for dropping you off and cracking up at the almost sombre mood caused by your departure.
Stepping out, you reach for your trunk from the rails on top of the car, pulling it down with ease.
You wave your friends off as they speed away, leaving fading declarations of love as they go. The reality of being on your own sinks in as the dust from their departure settles on the gravel road. You take a deep breath, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, trying to steady the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
The entrance to camp looms ahead, a rustic wooden archway adorned with carvings of pine trees and woodland creatures. The path is just as you remember, lined with tall, towering pines that stretch up into the bright blue sky.
You can hear faint laughter and the distant sound of campers running about, already immersed in their summer adventure. The excitement you felt during the drive here is still there, but it’s now tempered with a hint of anxiety. What if you don’t fit in with the other counsellors? What if the kids are too much to handle?
The doubts creep in, but you shake your head, pushing them away. This is what you’ve been waiting for—a summer of new experiences, challenges, and maybe even that elusive summer romance your friends teased you about.
As you approach the main lodge, you catch sight of a group of counsellors gathered on the porch, laughing and chatting as they prepare for the week ahead. They seem at ease, already forming bonds that you hope to become a part of. You watch them for a moment, taking in the scene, before a voice behind you interrupts your thoughts.
“Hey there, you must be the new arrival!”
You turn to see a tall, athletic guy with sun-kissed skin and a friendly smile walking toward you. He’s wearing a camp T-shirt and cargo shorts, his camp name, “Frosty,” stitched onto his shirt in bold green letters.
It takes your brain a moment to compute that you recognise his face.
Oh, God.
You look up to the sky for a second, sending a silent SOS as the sun shines down on you, leaving you nowhere to escape. You can feel shock flooding through your body, and you’re struggling to even reply.
“Kim Mingyu?”
The man’s eyebrows shoot upwards, and it’s clear you’ve taken him aback too. You stare at other for a moment, before realisation dawns across his features and he lets out a loud laugh, reaching forward to grab your shoulder.
“Oh my god, (Y/n) (Y/l/n)! I should have known you’d be back here! You’re even wearing the same outfit that you used to wear!”
You peer down at your old camp tee, little denim shorts, and hiking boots, your hair twirled with twine and ribbon into two plaits, feeling a little embarrassed that he’d immediately clocked your effort to recreate your camper days.
“Well if it helped you recognise me, then I’m glad I wore it!” You stammer, releasing a nervous laugh. “Would have been awkward if you hadn’t remembered me but I remembered you.”
Mingyu laughs in response, nodding his head, and you’re grateful that the calm, friendly demeanour he had as a kid is still alive and well.
“I’m meant to give you a tour and get you set up, but I suppose you won’t really need it.” He smiles, running a hand through his hair and you can’t help but look at the flex of his biceps as he does.
“Oh – um, I suppose a refresher wouldn’t hurt!”
He nods, and points over to the right side of the clearing. “Okay, well, your cabin is just that one over there, with the three on it. Let me know when you’re all set up and I’ll introduce you to the other counsellors and we can catch up!”
You thank him, and practically sprint away into the cabin.
The wooden cabin of the counsellors is not far different than the camper’s cabins, although notably nicer smelling and less beds. There are three bunks inside, with chests and small side cabinets to keep possessions on. The floor is covered in a green rug, and you can see that two of the other bunks already have unpacked belongings next to them.
You let out a shaky breath, steading your racing mind as you sit down on the empty bed. You can practically hear Emma and Jane laughing at you, and decide that you’d text them the moment you know they’ve landed from their flight.
Kim Mingyu? Seriously? It is like the universe decided to play a cruel joke on you. It’s not like you still have a crush on him, even if he has grown up well, but even the flash from the past has rattled you entirely.
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“Alrighty, so over here we have the other lead counsellors – Ace and Fairy. These guys are the ones to find if you need anything; they’ll be far more helpful than me.”
“Hi, I’m (Y/n)!” You greet them, waving.
“Gonna have to get you a camp nickname before the kids hear your actual name and refuse to call you anything else!” The taller person, Ace, jokes. Their short sandy blonde hair is pushed back by a black band, and they sport the same camp t-shirt as Mingyu, with a pair of long khaki cargo pants.
To their side, Fairy stands, giving you a friendly wave back. She, unlike the others, is wearing her camp t-shirt as a bandeau under dungarees shorts that are only strapped on one side.
“That’s a fair point – have you got something in mind or do you want us to give you one?” Mingyu nods thoughtfully.
“Oh, that’s so exciting!” You beam as you look over at Ace and Fairy, still unable to meet Mingyu’s gaze. “I used to love the idea of having a special nickname when I was a kid!”
“I think ‘sunshine’ would do the trick,” Fairy snorts. You feel a blush tickling your neck at the suggestion, and you wonder if your positivity is rubbing off the wrong way.
“We’ll put that one on the maybe list,” Mingyu laughs, holding out a hand to gesture to where you’re walking next.
“Over by the lake are all the kids' cabins. We've got somewhere around 100 campers at the moment, but a few more will join us in the later weeks. Obviously, all the water activities will be done from the dock over there - do you remember what sort of stuff you signed up to run?"
"All of the outdoorsy ones, I think."
"Okay, cool. You'll probably be working with me, Ace, or Hoshi mostly. The counsellor toilets are just round that corner there; they're hidden out of sight so that the kids don't get confused, but you'll need the code to get in anyways. Over there is the mess hall, as you probably remember. Last year they moved a bunch of the arts and crafts stuff into the left wing of the building, so that might be a little different, but the dance, music, and other indoor activities are still in the west building. The admin office, infirmary, and camp store are all in that building over there - you should pop by something today just to say hello to Laura and Maureen - they're super nice but they like to know who's in camp at all times! And finally, all of the sports fields, woodland areas, and the outdoor theatre are over to the east of the lake. You got all that?"
"I think so! It seems mostly the same?" You smile nervously.
Mingyu seems far less concerned about it all. “Great! So, how have you been? It must be almost a decade since I last saw you!”
You feel slightly overwhelmed by trying to catalogue your life over the last few years into a few sentences.
“I’m good!”
That’s a good start.
“I’ll be starting my third year of university in September, and I’m studying geography, but I think I might do teacher training afterwards. I’m not really sure – but, I guess this summer will be a great tester! Um, I took up knitting in June? Oh – and I’m so excited to be back! Can’t wait to be back out on the lake! How about you?”
Good enough.
 “Oh nice – I could definitely see you as a teacher, you always were one of the nicest campers in our cohort.” Mingyu smiles genuinely, and you feel yourself blushing again. “I’ve been a counsellor here for a few years now; I’ve been doing it since I started university. Don’t judge me, but I am studying business – hoping that the camp counsellor label cancels out the bad reputation though!”
You laugh, nodding. “It’s a bit of a stretch, but I think you’ll get away with it.”
“Glad I have your approval,” he chuckles, shooting you a toothy grin. “Here, lets go to the hall and you can meet some of the other counsellors.”
“Where did ‘Frosty’ come from, by the way?” You ask, curious, as you both walk towards the entrance to the mess hall.
Mingyu hums, glancing at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Ah, the infamous nickname story. It’s actually not as cool as you might think,” he begins, pushing open the heavy doors to the hall. The scent of wood, faintly mixed with lingering hints of breakfast, wafts out to greet you.
“It was my first year here as a counsellor. I was super eager to make a good impression, but on the first morning of camp, I didn’t realise just how cold the lake water could be at dawn. So, during the early canoe session, I jumped in to show the kids that it was ‘no big deal’.” He pauses, shaking his head at the memory.
“And?” You prompt, intrigued by the story.
“And I came out so cold that I was shivering, my lips were practically blue, and my skin had turned icy. One of the kids started calling me ‘Frosty’ and the name just stuck. I guess it was better than being called ‘shivers’ or something worse.” He adds with a laugh, his cheeks reddening slightly.
You giggle, imagining the scene. “That’s actually a great origin story. It’s kind of endearing.”
“It’s grown on me.” Mingyu admits.
You both step into the mess hall. The room is spacious, filled with long wooden tables and benches, with large windows on one side letting in the afternoon light. A group of counsellors are gathered near the front, some arranging supplies with others chat animatedly.
As Mingyu leads you over, the chatter quiets down slightly, and all eyes turn to you.
“Alright, everyone, this is (Y/n), our newest counsellor. Be nice and don’t scare them off on their first day,” He teases, and the group chuckles.
One by one, they introduce themselves, each with their own unique nickname story. From what you can remember, there’s Hatter, whose nickname is cryptically based on the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland, Sparks, who’s the go-to guy for anything involving campfires or fireworks, and Gecko, who is in charge of the art station in camp.
“Welcome to the team, (Y/n)!” Sparks says, tipping his baseball cap at you.
“Thanks, everyone! I’m really excited to be here.” You reply, basking in the warm reception.
Mingyu gives you a nod, clearly pleased. “I’ll leave you to get acquainted. Feel free to explore more, just be back for dinner at 6!”
As Mingyu heads off to tend to other duties, the counsellors start to chat to you, sharing stories and giving you tips for surviving your first week. You quickly learn that despite their laid-back appearances, they all share a deep love for the camp and seem as dedicated as you to making it an unforgettable experience for the campers.
“I pitched scuba diving at this year’s council, but it got vetoed.” Hatter grumbles.
Gecko scoffs, crossing her arms. “The only thing interesting in that lake is the random shit that kids throw in – that’s if you can see anything at all.”
“Were you the one that vetoed it?!”
“I suggested creating a camp newspaper,” Sparks interjects, cutting through the bickering. “And since it wasn’t a safety hazard, they decided to include it this year.”
“That’s really cool! And the kids can send them back to their parents to let them know what they've been up to!" You gush, imagining how much fun it would have been to have that option when you were a camper.
"You always get your projects picked!" Hatter sighs, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"First of all, that's not true." Sparks says, rolling his eyes. "And second, mine wasn't the only idea to get picked. Hoshi got his star gazing sessions, remember?"
It dawns on you that you still haven’t met all of the counsellors. The thought must be clear on your face, as Gecko turns to you and asks: “Have you met Hoshi yet?”
You shake your head. “No, I’ve only met you guys, Min – sorry, Frosty, Fairy, and Ace. Are there any other counsellors I haven’t met?” You have to force yourself to use Mingyu’s camp name so that you don’t let his real name slip in front of the kids.
“You haven’t met Old Bill yet, but he’ll be holed up in the music room.” Sparks replies, visibly ticking off names in his head. “And aside from him and Hoshi, the rest are arriving tomorrow.”
"Oh! Speaking of which - Frosty mentioned I should check in with Laura and Maureen, so I might go do that now?" You exclaim, remembering Mingyu’s advice. The group nods and waves as you head off. Feeling good about the other counsellors, your earlier apprehensions fade, leaving you with a growing sense of joy at being back in camp.
That afternoon, you wander over to the main building, making sure to pop into both the infirmary and the head office. At dinner, you sit amongst the kids, starting to get to know their names and faces and hoping to make a good impression in return. You return to your cabin afterwards, fondly thinking about your start to camp. You're sharing your dorm with Gecko and Fairy, and the three of you spent the evening chatting and getting to know each other over a bottle of gin that Fairy had sneaked into camp - which had felt rather scandalous to you.
When you get a chance, you shoot a text off from your flip phone to Emma and Jane, reminding them not to call because you didn’t want to discuss the situation in front of your new cabinmates.
You have to stifle a laugh as you receive their elated replies, and almost block Emma for the R-rated suggestions she leaves in your inbox.
Snuggling down that night, you wonder if you might finally get the second chance you’d dreamed of as a kid.
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The next morning, you’re practically bouncing with excitement as you make your way towards the camp’s rope course. The first day of camp is always the best. You’ve been looking forward to getting into the activities ever since you got the job, and climbing was always your favourite as a kid. There’s something about heights, the thrill of adventure, that speaks to the childlike wonder still alive in you.
The sun is already warming the air, but there’s a cool breeze filtering through the pine trees that keeps the camp feeling fresh. You cannot wait to start creating memories with the campers.
As you approach the ropes course, you spot a figure standing near the gear shack, fiddling with a bundle of harnesses. He’s tall, lean, and has a shock of platinum hair that contrasts against the dark forest. As he turns around, you are left a little starstruck by the handsome face that greets you, and you have to remind yourself that you don’t have to crush on every cute person you encounter.
Banishing the thoughts from your mind, you wave energetically. “Hey! You must be Hoshi! I’m (Y/n)! Fairy said that we were co-leaders today!”
He turns to face you, blinking at your sudden burst of enthusiasm and offers a small smile, looking a little surprised. “Oh! Yeah, nice to meet you.” He says a little shyly. “You here to help with the ropes course?”
“Absolutely!” You chirp, extending your hand. “I’m so excited to work with you this summer. I love this kind of thing - clinging, jumping, swinging through the air like a superhero. It's so fun that I get to do it for my first session!"
Hoshi shakes your hand, trying to stifle a laugh at your enthusiasm. "Yeah, it'll be ... interesting. But not everyone's into it, though. Some of the kids can be a little scared at first."
"Don't worry!" You declare, "I'm sure we'll be able to hype them up. They'll be climbing like monkeys by the end of the session!"
You expect a polite laugh or another small smile, but instead, something shifts in Hoshi’s expression. His eyes sparkle with a hint of mischief as he straightens up, looking at you with an almost playful glint.
“Oh yeah?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”
Before you can ask what he means, a group of campers starts to arrive, chattering excitedly as they line up near the base of the ropes course.
“Alright, everyone!” you call out, clapping your hands to get their attention. “Who’s ready to have some fun and conquer this ropes course?”
A few kids cheer, while others look a little nervous, shifting their weight from foot to foot as they eye the towering structure ahead of them.
“No worries if you’re feeling a little scared,” you say reassuringly. “It’s totally normal! We’ll go at your pace, and I promise, by the end of it, you’ll feel like Spider-Man swinging through the city.”
The kids giggle, some of them visibly relaxing. You’re about to continue when Hoshi steps forward, a wide grin etching onto his face. "And just to prove it to you all, we're going to start with a little induction ritual for our new camp leader!"
You glance over at him, surprised by the sudden spotlight on you. There’s a challenge in his eyes now, one that wasn’t there before. He adjusts his harness, tightening the straps with quick, practiced movements, and without another word, he leaps up onto the first platform of the ropes course with the agility of someone who’s done it a hundred times.
He glances down, grinning for real now, and holds a hand down to you. "Come on, I'll race you to the top!"
Without waiting for a response, he takes off again, scrambling up a rope ladder with impressive speed. The kids cheer, and suddenly your competitive spirit kicks in.
“Oh, it’s on!” you yell, rushing over to grab a harness and clip yourself in. You barely take a second to check the straps before you’re darting after him, laughing the whole way as the kids below start cheering for you both.
You manage to keep pace with him, climbing and leaping with the same energy that’s always been your signature. Every time you think you’re about to catch up, Hoshi takes another daring leap, swinging across gaps or balancing on the narrowest part of the beams just to show off. There’s a wildness to him that’s completely different from the almost shy guy you met earlier.
By the time you both reach the final platform, breathless but grinning from ear to ear, the kids are cheering so loudly you can barely hear yourself think. Hoshi swings up onto the last platform just a second before you, throwing his hands up in victory as you flop down beside him, laughing.
“Okay, okay, you win,” you gasp, wiping sweat from your forehead.
Hoshi chuckles, leaning back against the railing and catching his breath. "You're pretty fast yourself," he says, nudging your shoulder with his elbow. "I didn't think you'd keep up."
You sit up, grinning widely. "You're just lucky I didn't eat a second breakfast today. Otherwise, I totally would've smoked you."
He laughs again, before peering down at the kids below. "I think we might have to get them strapped up before they start trying to climb the trees themselves."
You nod, finally understanding his plan. The spectacle of the race had taken all of the pressure off of the kids, and had let them see just how safe the course was. It was a trick that you'd have to remember.
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Soonyoung watches as you move to the back of the line of kids, crouching down to speak to a young boy at the end. The kid looks nervous, clutching the harness like it’s the only thing keeping him from running back to the safety of the cabin.
He doesn’t know what you say to the boy, but it’s obviously helping as he looks up at you with awe, his hands loosening their grip. You’re offering your hand out to him, and Soonyoung realises that you’re going to go up into the course with him.
He’s manning the guide ropes, and offers you a nod as you look over for confirmation that he’ll be able to manage without you. Now alone at the bottom of the course, his thoughts begin to overwhelm.
The moment you’d run over waving at him this morning, Soonyoung had been flooded with memories. When Mingyu had mentioned last night that the new counsellor was someone they’d both known from camp, he’d never have guessed it would be you.
But you are entirely recognisable. You are just as bubbly and energetic as you were as a kid, running around camp, always surrounded by friends. Soonyoung reminisces over his old camp days, getting stuck on the memory of your first meeting.
It is a week in summer camp, and Soonyoung is having a bad time. His parents insisted on him going; they had assured him that he’d have fun, that he loved the outdoors and he’d make friends quickly enough.
Unfortunately, they are mistaken.
He’s not surprised. He knows he’s shy and meeting new people is never his idea of fun. He was hoping that some extroverted kid may pick him up and carry him into a social group, but that hasn’t happened yet and he’s starting to worry that he’ll have to find a different way.
Soonyoung’s cabin mates are nice enough, but they’ve already formed their own tight-knit group. At night, they talk about things he doesn’t really know about – sports teams, video games, and shared inside jokes.
The worse part is, the camp counsellors are always so cheerful, always asking him how he’s doing, if he’s having fun. He puts on a smile, nods and says it’s all great – what else is he supposed to say?
Soonyoung’s sitting on the edge of the lake on afternoon, his knees pulled up to his chest, staring at the rippling water as a canoe glides by with some laughing campers in it. He picks up a small stone and skips it across the surface, watching it hop once, twice, then disappear into the lake.
“Hey, that was a pretty good skip!”
Soonyoung jumps at the voice, his heart racing as he turns to see a girl standing beside him. You’re wearing a camp t-shirt, your hair tied back in two messy braids, and you’re smiling at him like you’ve known him for years.
“Uh, thanks.” He mumbles, unsure of what else to say. You pick up another rock from beside him, fiddling with it in between your fingers.
“My brother said skipping stones is all about finding the right rock. Here, look at this one!” You present the rock to him – flat, smooth, and lightweight with rounded edges. Flicking the stone with a snap of your wrist, he watches as it skips over the lake three times before dropping down below. You let out a laugh of achievement, and Soonyoung commits the sound to his memory.
“I’m (Y/n), by the way.” You say, plopping down beside him without waiting for an invitation. “I’ve seen you around but haven’t had the chance to say hi yet.”
Soonyoung feels the heat rise to his face. “Oh, um, I’m Kwon Soonyoung.”
You grin, your eyes sparkling with playful energy. “Nice to meet you Soonyoung. A few of the other campers and I are planning on stealing some marshmallows from the kitchen tonight and roasting them over the firepit – do you wanna come?”
He glances over at you, surprised at your offer. You clearly notice his hesitation and offer him a friendly smile, and he cannot help by accept. “Oh, yeah, that would be fun!”
“Okay, great!” You jump up excitedly, and he feels his own spirits lifting in tandem. “Meet us at the kitchen at 7pm.”
He had gone that night, and you’d introduced him to the rest of your friends. Soonyoung fondly remembers that evening, getting to know those campers and watching you laugh and dance around in your own little world.
He hadn’t spoken to you much after that, but he remembers everything. He can admit in hindsight that, by the end of that summer, he’d had a huge crush on you. He was sure you didn’t return those feelings – in fact, he’d heard you gushing to one of the other campers about Mingyu.
Yet, seeing you now, Soonyoung cannot help but feel like he’s been given a second chance. There is a new freedom in knowing that you didn’t remember the past. He could be confident, more daring – everything he wasn’t back then. There is no reason for you to ever associate this version of him with the kid you used to know, and he isn’t about to remind you.
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At dinner that night, you find yourself peering back over at the blonde, your mind occupied with questions about him.
You feel like your camper self, looking over at a cute boy that you’re kind of scared to talk to, except this time Kim Mingyu is not the object of your attention. You can actually feel your younger self gawking at you for not taking the chance to flirt with her crush, but for some reason it’s your daring co-leader that is taking up all the space in your mind.
Wow – you think you really are absurd, blushing over a guy you’d met earlier that day. Your friends may have mocked you for your hopeless love life, but they wouldn’t be able to contain themselves if they saw you now.
The rain is coming down outside in a steady drizzle, a soft, rhythmic patter against the cabin roof that creates a cozy, if dreary atmosphere. Some of the campers, having been stuck indoors all afternoon, are grumbling about their ruined evening plans, while others huddle together in the hall, trying to stay entertained.
You glance out of the window, watching the drops streak down the glass as the grey sky darkens into evening. The air inside the cabin feels a little stuffy, and you can tell that everyone needs a pick-me-up, even the other counsellors. That’s when an idea hits you – your trip down memory lane jogging a sweet treat that always lifted your spirits when you were younger.
“Hey, guys!” You call out, clapping your hands together with a grin. A few heads turn your way, curiosity flickering across their faces. “Who’s up for some peppermint hot chocolate?”
“Peppermint hot chocolate?” One of the young girls asks, her eyes wide with anticipation.
“Oh yeah,” you beam, heading toward the small kitchenette. “It’s my special recipe. Guaranteed to make rainy days a hundred times better.”
In the corner of your gaze, you see Mingyu standing up with a large grin, nodding at the kids. “Just what we all need!”
A buzz of excited murmurs spread through the group. Meeting Mingyu’s eyes to express your gratitude for his support, you let everyone know that the hot chocolate should be ready in only a few minutes.
As you gather the ingredients, pulling out the cocoa powder, milk, sugar, and peppermint extract, the chatter in the cabin grows livelier. You’ve been making this recipe for years, ever since you learned it from your grandmother, and it has become your go-to for nights like this.
Just as you get into the rhythm of stirring, you feel someone step beside you. Turning, you see Hoshi leaning casually against the counter, watching you with a small smile that makes your heart skip a beat.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he says, glancing around the room. “The kids were about to start climbing the walls.”
“It’s my secret weapon for rainy days.” You reply, glancing at him form over your shoulder. “Peppermint hot chocolate – grandma’s tradition.”
Hoshi chuckles, watching you with a soft gaze. “Secret weapon, huh? I had no idea that you were a hot chocolate expert on top of everything else.”
“Oh, you have no idea the depths of my talent. This hot chocolate is just the tip of the iceberg.”
He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to stick around and see what other surprises you’ve got up your sleeve.”
“Oh, trust me, you’re not ready for the full 'Peppermint' experience,” You tease, trying to sound casual, but feeling the heat rising in your face, and you know the cause isn’t the hot chocolate. Was he being... nice? Or is that—no, don’t overthink it, you tell yourself.
Hoshi steps a little closer, peering into the pot as the chocolate mixture begins to bubble. “Looks like you’ve got this down to a science.” He remarks, voice low and teasing.
You shoot him a playful look. “What can I say? I aim to impress. Besides, I figured the campers deserve a little something special after being cooped up all afternoon.”
He smiles now, and for a moment, the teasing falls away. “It’s hard to believe that it’s your first day doing this – you’re good at it. Taking care of the kids. Keeping everyone’s spirits up.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” you say, waving a hand dismissively, though the warmth of his words settles in your chest. “I just want them to have fun, you know? The same as all of you guys.”
“I don’t know if you realise it, but you’ve already got most of us hooked. That hot chocolate is just the cherry on top.”
Your breath hitches slightly at his words, and you look up at him, your eyes meeting his. For a moment, the rainy world outside the cabin fades away, leaving just the two of your standing in the warm glow of the kitchen, the pot bubbling gently between you.
You blink rapidly, feeling your cheeks turn even redder. Is he flirting? No way. You are probably just misreading it, like you always do. Right? Surely, he is just being friendly. That’s all.
Before you can spiral any further, you snap back around to the hot chocolate. You quickly ladle a scoop into one of the mugs, spilling a little onto the counter in your haste.
“You’ll be hooked on this when you’ve tasted it!” You chirp, overcorrecting for your nervousness with a panicked cheerfulness.
Giving you a small, lingering smile, Hoshi softly takes the cup from your hands and takes a sip, his eyes never leaving yours.
“Okay, I’ll admit it,” he says, lowering the mug with a grin. “This is really good. You might be onto something with the peppermint.”
You smile sheepishly, feeling a swell of pride but still a little awkward under his gaze. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”
“I don’t just like it,” he teases, his voice dropping slightly. “I think you just made my day.”
Your heart feels completely overwhelmed. Is he doing this on purpose? You’re already hopeless at telling friendliness from flirting, and you certainly aren’t used to these little compliments, and it’s all too much for you to handle.
You hand out the rest of the mugs to the campers, avoiding eye contact with Hoshi who stays by your side to help. The kids take them eagerly, sipping their hot chocolate with delighted smiles. The cabin is filled with warmth, not just from the drinks, but from the cozy, cheerful atmosphere that has blossomed despite the rain.
“Hey, this is great hot chocolate!” Mingyu sings as he walks over to your station, half-full cup in hand.
You grin at him, happy for a distraction from the uncertainty standing next to you. “Thanks! The kids seem pretty happy.”
“Totally. You saved the day.” Mingyu praises with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “And, I heard some of the kids calling you ‘peppermint hot chocolate’, so I think – if we shorten it – you may be able to embroider your shirt. ‘Peppermint’ is a pretty cute nickname, all things considered.”
To your side, you think you see Hoshi grimacing for a second, but the expression is quickly wiped from his features.
“It’s a good suggestion.” He says, his tone flatter than it had been earlier.
“I’ll take it! Although if the kids are already calling me it, I suppose I don’t have much choice!” You say cheerfully, feeling your cheeks flushing at the thought. But, you are endeared towards the nickname, and having the campers respect you enough to give you a personalised nickname is pretty special.
By the time you’ve finished talking to Mingyu, Hoshi seems to have disappeared from your side. Even though you feel increasingly nervous around him, a part of you is a little sad that you no longer get to talk with him. But, you have chores to get on with, and 100 mugs aren’t going to clean themselves.
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The next two weeks fly past. The camp is alive with the sounds of laughter, shouts and the crackling of campfire, and the days blend together as the campers rotate through their favourite activities.
You’ve spent a lot of time trying to get to know everyone, with a particular focus on your group of campers and the other camp counsellors.
Hoshi and you have still been co-leaders for most of the time, although you’d had a few sessions with Mingyu, Sparks, and one with Gecko. The more time that you spend with Hoshi, the more you are falling deeper into your crush, even if you hate to admit it.
At the start, you’d wondered if the crush was just the product of a new environment, new people, and a lingering suggestion from your friends of a summer romance that latched onto the first cute person you saw. But, if that were true, Mingyu would have been the object of your affections. At this point, you are forced to admit that your crush on Hoshi is more than a matter of convenience. He’s funny, adventurous, and great with the kids, and you have to stop yourself from staring at his face for too long when you’re together.
It’s made it a little harder for you to co-lead with him, but you think you’ve done a pretty good job of hiding your feelings. The last thing you’d want to do is make things awkward for him and the kids, and you’ve had one too many unrequired crushes to make such a rookie mistake as to publicise it.
That evening, after a long day of camp activities, the kids finally settled into their own cabins, the counsellors are left with some well-earned downtime.
You, Gecko, and Fairy pile into your shared cabin, which has quickly become a sanctuary at the end of each hectic day. The cabin is cozy, its wooden walls creaking faintly with the evening breeze that slips through the screen windows.
You flop onto your bed, letting out an exaggerated groan of exhaustion, your limbs spread out like a starfish. “I don’t know about you two, but those kids wore me out today,” you say, dramatically throwing an arm over your eyes. “If I have to get into another canoe, I think I might actually become one with the lake.”
Gecko, who is sitting cross-legged on her bed, leafing through an old camp magazine, snorts. “Yeah, right. You’re like the Energizer Bunny, Peps. I’ve never seen you actually sit still.”
“True!” Fairy pipes in, hoping up onto her bunk and dangling her legs over the edge. “I swear, you were running circles around those kids during the canoe races. I was convinced you were going to tip the boat from sheer excitement.”
You peak out from under your arm, grinning. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep the energy up! These kids need someone to cheer them up!”
"You and Hoshi sure are making it hard for us other counsellors to keep up. My kids came in today asking to have a paint fight because of your antics yesterday." Gecko rolls her eyes, but smiles. "Are we sure you're not secretly still a camper?"
At the mention of Hoshi, you feel a blush creep up your cheeks, though you try and laugh it off. “Please, if you’re going to blame anyone, blame Mingyu – he threw the first brush!”
Fairy smirks, noticing the slight pink tint to your face. She twirls a lock of hair around her finger, her eyes narrowing playfully. “You know, it always catches me off guard when you refer to him as Mingyu.” She begins, her voice dripping with curiosity. “He’s the only counsellor you do that with.”
“I hadn’t realised.” You hum, thinking over her words. “I guess because I’ve known him for so long, it feels weird to not call him Mingyu.”
Gecko and Fairy share a look.
“Sure, but you guys have been spending a lot of time together lately.” Gecko says, raising an eyebrow as she leans back on her hands.
You feel your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Had you?
You’d co-led with Mingyu a couple times over the last few weeks, and spent a bit of time catching up on old memories, but you didn’t think you’d spent any more time with him than any of the other counsellors.
“You think so? I wouldn’t say so.”
“Oh, please,” Fairy scoffs, hopping down from her bunk and plopping onto the bed next to you. “Tell me honestly that there isn’t some history there.”
You blink, flustered. “Oh, well, I guess…” You begin, feeling compelled to tell the truth under their curious gazes. “Okay, well you can’t tell anyone, but I used to have a crush on him when we were campers. Not anymore though!”
You see the pair of them smirk at each other.
“- we’re just friends now. And I wouldn’t want any more. To be honest, I’d be more likely to date Hoshi than Mingyu.” You admit, the blush on your cheeks darkening at your confession.
“Of course! We wouldn’t think any different!” Fairy says in a tone that makes you wonder if she’d actually heard what you just said.
“And it’s totally fine, everyone thinks Mingyu’s hot.” Gecko adds, and you realise that they hadn’t at all heard what you just said.
You sigh, leaning back onto your arms. “I guess.”
Fairy hums out a satisfied tune, moving back onto her bunk. You suppose that it’s still a bit early to emphasise your crush on Hoshi right now, and let the moment pass, hoping that they wouldn’t take it any further in their mistaken understanding of your love life.
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Soonyoung is not jealous – he’s determined.
He’s spent the last few weeks trying to keep his cool around you, but it’s hard not to get caught up in everything you are. There’s something magnetic about the way you move through camp, always laughing, always making the kids feel safe and happy. He’s changed so much since you were younger, but you haven’t changed at all.
The issue is – your feelings are an enigma to him. In his eyes, it seems like you’re flirting back with him, laughing at his jokes, placing your hand on his arm, and he’s spotted you looking at him a few times now.
But he’d overheard some campers around the campfire giggling about you and Mingyu and begun to wonder if he’s mistaken your kindness for something greater.
He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he’s wrong, especially when you haven’t explicitly given him any signal, but he also doesn’t want to ignore the spark he feels between you.
That night, as the campfire crackles under the stars, the campers roast marshmallows and sing songs under the stars. You’re sat cross-legged on one of the logs, leading a small group of kids in a lively rendition of an old campfire favourite. Your voice is light and playful, if a little off-pitch, and Soonyoung can feel your laughter infecting him as the kids fumble through the lyrics.
He sits back in his seat with a content smile, watching from across the fire. The firelight dances on your face, your hair illuminated in soft, flickering hues.
“Hey, Hoshi!” You call out from across the fire, your eyes gleaming with excitement. “We’re going to have a marshmallow roasting contest. You in?”
He chuckles, standing up and making his way over. “You’re on,” he says, grabbing a stick. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you – I make the perfect golden marshmallow.”
You stick your tongue cutely out at him in mock defiance. “We’ll see about that.”
The campers gather round, joining in and bursting into laughter as Soonyoung’s marshmallow drops into the fire. He can’t find it inside himself to care though, as he watches the delight etch onto your face as you realise his mistake.
As the kids head off to their cabins for the night, you grab his arm, pulling him off to one side.
“Sorry, I know you probably just wanna crash out, but I wanted to ask you something.” You say quietly, with a small, apologetic smile.
Soonyoung’s heart begins to patter, curious and slightly nervous at what you’ll want to know.
“How’d you know that I was a camper here before?”
Ah, shit.
He thinks back to your second day as co-leaders, when he’d let it slip that he knew you went to Camp Logan as a child. The rain had started pouring, cutting off any questions you could have had, and he’d hoped you’d forgotten about it.
“Well, it was only your second day, but you were bounding all over the place like you knew where everything is – and I know Mingyu doesn’t give that in-depth of a tour.” He replies, his tone casual.
“Ahh, I suppose it does make sense. Also-” You poke at your old camp t-shirt that you are still donning. “I guess I fit the stereotype a little.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re not the only person who returned here as an adult.” He laughs, hoping to make you feel better.
Your eyebrows shoot back with curiosity. “Oh, really? Did you come here too?”
Soonyoung realises his mistake. “Oh, uh, I did go to a summer camp as a kid,” he splutters, caught off guard. “But a different one. Not this one.”
You look a little confused for a second, but nod your head in understanding.
Soonyoung lets out a quiet breath, thankful that you didn’t push the subject further. He’s always been good at staying calm, at least outwardly, but right now, standing here with you so close, his heart is doing somersaults. Not to mention, the way that the firelight glows on your face is making it hard for him to focus on anything else.
“So,” you say with a smile. “You promised to tell me the story of your nickname – I haven’t forgotten!”
He lets out a relieved chuckle, glad that the conversation topic has changed.
“Oh, well, technically Hoshi means ‘star’ – I got it because I used to stare at the stars every night when I was a camper,” Soonyoung explains, his voice taking on a nostalgic tone. He glances up at the sky, taking in the faint but twinkling stars. “I guess the other counsellors thought it was funny that I was obsessed with them. I got approved to do some star-gazing sessions this year, though, which is pretty cool.”
You smile, your curiosity piqued. “Wow, I didn’t realise that you were into that, that’s really amazing.”
He grins, eyes flicking back to meet yours. “Yeah, and I kinda like the name now – ‘Hoshi’ sounds cool, right?”
You giggle. “It does suit you. Though I’ll have to keep an eye on you during nighttime hikes, just in case you wander off to stare at the sky.”
Soonyoung laughs, shaking his head. There’s a comfortable pause, the crackling of the fire filling the space between you. The warmth from the flames mirror the warmth in his chest as he stands next to you, but there is something more pulling at him. He can’t help but feel the weight of everything unsaid between you two—the lingering looks, the playful touches, the way your smile always seems a little brighter when it’s directed at him. He needs to know if he’s imagining it.
“Actually,” Soonyoung says, his voice lowering slightly, a playful edge creeping in, “I think there’s something else that suits me.”
You tilt your head. “Oh? What’s that?”
He hesitates for a beat, his eyes locking with yours, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Being around you.” He says, his voice soft but teasing. “I’ve gotta admit, the stars just seem to gleam brighter when you’re around.”
A blush immediately creeps up your neck, and you look away from him for a second, taken off guard.
“You’re shameless.” You stammer, unable to meet his gaze again.
“It’s true – I’ve noticed that the stars just look better when we’re together. Or maybe it’s just because I’m distracted.”
He has to admit that he’s enjoying how flustered you look as you blink at him. “Oh, come on,” you finally reply, “you’re just trying to get out of telling me more embarrassing stories from your camper days.”
Soonyoung chuckles, stepping just a little closer. “Maybe,” he shrugs. “Or maybe I’m telling the truth.”
The space between you suddenly feels much smaller, and he can feel his own heartbeat racing.
You look back over at time, a small smile ghosting across your lips as the firelight reflects from your eyes. “You’re impossible.”
“Maybe,” he says again, his voice light. “But if it means I get to see you smile like that … then I’ll take it.”
Your smile grows brighter, and Soonyoung wonders if you know that he is telling the truth.
“Well, you have a knack for making me smile.” You respond softly, and it’s his turn to feel bashful. All he can do is nod his head, unable to keep his own lips from quirking up back to you.
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At the mid-point of the summer, you can tell that the camp is at a bit of a low. The homesickness has kicked in after weeks away from family, and the other counsellors are struggling to maintain the energy after the exhaustion of endless work.
Thankfully, as you well remember, this has been a recurring problem every year, and one that the camp has provisioned for.
Unlike the general mood, you are rather excited. Mingyu has been organising a camp disco for all of the campers over the last few days, and you can’t wait to see the shine come back to the kids’ faces. But, more than that, the counsellors are having their own little after party once the kids are asleep.
You’ve spent a lot of time with the other counsellors now, and although there haven’t been many chances, you have been able to do some group activities together. But, to have a night to properly relax, kick back, and have a drink whilst the camp manager Laura watches over the kids is going to be a much-needed break. You can almost feel the anticipation buzzing in the air as you and the other counsellors exchange knowing glances throughout the day. Mingyu has been working hard to keep the details of the disco under wraps, and although the kids don’t know it yet, tonight is going to be exactly what they need to shake off the homesickness and recharge for the rest of the summer.
You glance across the campgrounds, catching sight of Hoshi helping some of the kids with a craft project. He’s been quieter the past few days, but you can’t help but notice the way he sneaks glances at you when he thinks you aren’t looking. Since that night by the campfire, when he’d said those words that left you a blushing mess, things have been... different. There’s this undercurrent between you two, subtle but undeniably there.
You feel a little flutter in your chest as you think about it, shaking your head to focus back on the task at hand. Tonight is going to be a good night for everyone, and you’re not about to let your presumptive heart distract you from the fun.
The camp disco is in full swing by the time the sun sets. The kids are bouncing around the hall, glow sticks in hand, dancing to their favourite songs, their earlier gloom forgotten. Mingyu, as expected, has done an amazing job—streamers hang from the ceiling, fairy lights twinkle in the corners, and the DJ (Old Bill) is playing all the right tunes. You smile, watching the kids come alive again, their excitement contagious.
You find yourself swaying to the music, encouraging the shy campers to join in on the dance floor, and before long, the room is full of laughter and energy. It’s working. The mood has completely shifted, and for the first time in days, it feels like the homesickness has melted away.
At one point, you’re pulled into a dance-off with a group of younger campers, their enthusiasm too infectious to refuse. You’re spinning and laughing, barely noticing when Hoshi sidles up next to you.
“You’re showing them up,” he says with a grin.
You stop mid-spin, a little breathless, grinning back at him. “Well, someone has to keep up with them,” you reply, playfully nudging him.
He laughs, and the sound is too quickly carried away by the thrum of the music. Before you get any chance to chat more, one of the campers tugs at your hand, pulling you back into the dance circle.
The night flies by, the disco ending with tired but happy kids heading back to their cabins. You wave them off, thanking Mingyu for organizing everything as you begin to gather with the other counsellors towards the staff cabin.
An hour later, the camp feels almost eerily quiet. The campers are fast asleep, and the counsellors have migrated to the staff cabin, music playing softly in the background, the lights dimmed. You can feel the collective sigh of relief as you and the others sink into chairs, finally able to relax.
Mingyu cracks open a few bottles of wine and passes them around, and the conversation quickly shifts from camp duties to light-hearted banter. Everyone’s unwinding, the exhaustion of the past few weeks melting away with each sip.
Hoshi takes a seat next to you, handing you a glass with a casual smile. "You look like you’re still buzzing from the dance party.”
 “It was fun. You’re a good dancer, you know?” You say sincerely, remembering watching him out with the kids. When he wasn’t twirling the campers around or doing stupid moves to make them laugh, he had truly been a sight to behold – moving perfectly to the rhythm with a groove you hadn’t expected.
“Thanks – you killed it in the dance battle. I think you’re lucky you already have a nickname or they’d start calling you ‘the sprinkler’.”
Your nose crinkles with disgust, and you can hear Hoshi laughing at your expression. “Absolutely not. I hope that never-”
“Hey, Pepper!” You hear from behind you, and you turn to see Fairy waving for you to come over.
You turn back around to Hoshi, giving him an apologetic smile as you move towards your cabinmate.
“What’s up?”
Fairy grins mischievously, patting the spot next to her on the couch. The other counsellors are gathered around, some holding their wine glasses, others lounging in comfortable silence. You sit down beside her, and she wastes no time leaning in conspiratorially.
“We’re starting a game,” she whispers, her eyes sparking with mischief. “You can thank me later.”
You raise an eyebrow, confused at her meaning. “Huh? What kind of game?”
Before Fairy can answer, Mingyu appears, plopping down on the other side of you with a bottle of wine in hand. “We’re playing ‘Truth or Drink’” he announces with a grin. “Or, as I like to call it, exposing everyone’s secrets while we’re too tired to care.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “Wow, I think we played this when we were campers.”
Fairy nods, smirking. “He’s just trying to get out of answering questions.”
“Oh, no. I’m an open book,” Mingyu teases, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. “But you—” he gestures toward you—“I bet you have some juicy secrets.”
Fairy claps her hands together, drawing everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s get started! We’ll go in a circle. Truth or drink. If you don’t wanna answer, you take a drink.”
The game kicks off with the usual light-hearted questions. The counsellors take turns asking things like, ‘What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you at camp?’ and ‘what’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen a camper do?’ Laughter echoes through the cabin as the group shares funny stories. Your gaze catches on Hoshi, sitting across from you, as he animatedly retells a story about the time that he ran a 100m sprint whilst drunk.
A little way into the game, Fairy turns toward you, a look that puts you on edge in her eye. “Okay, Pepper, this one’s for you.”
“Go on…”
She leans forward, her voice lowering to make the moment feel more dramatic. “Have you ever had a crush on anyone here?”
The group immediately bursts into giggles, all eyes turning toward you. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks from the attention. You cannot believe that she’s just asked you that.
You let out a soft groan, covering your face with your hands for a moment. “You guys are ridiculous.”
“Come on,” Mingyu says, nudging you with his elbow. “You can’t back out now!”
Looking back at Mingyu, you realise you have a choice. Admit to your childhood crush on him, admit to your current crush on Hoshi, or drink and let everyone realise that you do in fact like someone. The answer seems obvious to you – you didn’t like Mingyu anymore so admitting to that crush would be embarrassing but you could get over it.
You peek out from behind your fingers, letting out a flustered laugh. “Alright, alright!” You take a deep breath, deciding to just go with it. “When I was younger… I used to have the biggest crush on Mingyu.”
The room goes silent for a beat before erupting into laughter. Mingyu’s eyes widen, clearly not expecting that answer, while the others start whooping and teasing him.
As the laughter from your confession settles, you glance around the circle, catching a glimpse of Hoshi sitting quietly across the room. His playful grin is still there, but something in his eyes has changed. It's subtle, but the usual lighthearted sparkle has dimmed just a little, and his posture seems more tense than relaxed. You blink, wondering if you’re imagining it, but you can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.
Meanwhile, the other counsellors are still buzzing with excitement over your confession. Mingyu, clearly enjoying the attention, leans back with an exaggerated smirk.
“So, Peps,” he teases, his grin wide, “I guess I was your first camp crush, huh? Man, that’s a big responsibility.”
You roll your eyes, laughing. “Don’t flatter yourself too much. I was, like, twelve. It doesn’t even count.”
Fairy chimes in, giving you a sly look. “I dunno, you two always seem pretty close. Are you sure you’re over him?”
You’re about to respond, to brush off the teasing, but before you can say anything, Hoshi speaks up from across the room, his voice a little sharper than usual. “Come on, Fairy – she said it was ages ago. We don’t need to interrogate her.”
You blink, surprised by his tone. The group falls silent for a beat, and you can feel a shift in the room, the playful banter suddenly feeling a little heavier.
Mingyu, ever oblivious, laughs and holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. No more teasing. Pepper, your secret’s safe with me.”
But as the conversation moves on, you can’t help but glance over at Soonyoung again. His jaw is tight, and while he’s pretending to be engaged in the new topic, you sense his mood is off from his usual demeanour.
After a few more rounds of the game, the atmosphere goes back to normal – aided by a very funny impression of Hatter by Sparks.
“Alright, my turn to ask.” Sparks grins, looking around the circle like a predator looking for prey. Sparks’ gaze lands on Hoshi, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, Hoshi—no dodging this one. Truth or drink?"
Hoshi raises an eyebrow, smirking but clearly unfazed. "Truth. Hit me with your best shot."
Sparks grins wider. "Alright, Soonyoung, tell us… what’s something from your camper days that none of us know?"
The moment the name "Soonyoung" leaves Sparks’ lips, you feel a jolt. Soonyoung? Why does that sound so familiar? The name echoes in your head, and suddenly, it hits you like a wave crashing onto the shore.
Soonyoung.
You stare at Hoshi – no, Soonyoung – wide-eyed, your heart skipping a beat as the realisation sets in. He was at camp before. Not just any camp, but this camp. And you knew him – that shy boy from all those summers ago.
Your breath catches in your throat as the pieces click into place. You’d spent all these weeks with him, not realizing he was that Soonyoung. He’s changed so much—more confident, more playful—but there’s no mistaking it now.
Soonyoung’s gaze flickers, meeting yours for just a moment too long before he looks away, his expression shifting. His smile vanishes, replaced with something more guarded—something that makes your heart twist. You’re on the verge of saying something, of asking him, why didn’t you tell me?, when he clears his throat, breaking the eye contact as quickly as it happened.
“Uh yeah,” he says, his voice more subdued. He forces a laugh, but is sounds hollow. “There’s nothing too exciting – one time, I accidently called the counsellor ‘mom’ in front of the whole group. That was pretty hard to live down.”
The other counsellors chuckle, buying into his casual response, but you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
Minutes pass, and every time you try to say something, to bring it up, he’s conveniently out of reach—answering a question from Fairy, joking with Mingyu, or pouring another drink for Sparks.
The atmosphere in the room returns to normal, everyone laughing and enjoying the game, but you’re stuck. Your thoughts are racing, replaying memories from your time at camp, piecing together everything you now know about him. You want to ask him why he never said anything, why he’s been keeping this hidden when you could’ve shared stories, laughed about the past. But more than that, you can’t shake the hurt—the feeling that maybe he didn’t want you to remember him at all.
Finally, as the game winds down and people start to leave the cabin, you seize the chance to approach him. You wait until the others are distracted, your heart pounding as you take a step toward him, your mind already formulating the questions you need answered.
"Soonyoung," you begin quietly, your voice just loud enough to catch his attention.
He looks at you, but the guarded expression is back, like a shield between you. He doesn’t give you time to say anything more.
"Hey, I think I’m gonna head to bed," he says abruptly, cutting you off before you can even start. He glances around the room, avoiding your eyes again. "It’s been a long day, you know?”
Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. You watch, frozen, as he turns away, leaving you standing there with a knot in your chest. He slips out of the cabin before you can say another word, disappearing into the night without looking back.
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The drunken chatter in the cabin isn’t making Soonyoung feel any better. Mingyu and Sparks had stumbled back together, laughing and swaying and not giving him any time to work out what just happened.
His head is a blur of emotions – scared that you now know the truth, sad at the look you were giving him, embarrassed of the past, and a little jealous of Mingyu.
Soonyoung leans against the wall, arms crossed tightly as Mingyu and Sparks collapse onto the bed in a fit of drunken laughter. He tries to smile, to act like everything is fine, but his thoughts keep spiralling. His heart hasn’t stopped racing since Sparks let his name slip, and now, every time he thinks of the look on your face, that wide-eyed realization, it twists the knot in his chest a little tighter.
You know. You finally know who he really is, and he has no idea what to do with that.
“So, (Y/n) really had a crush on me, huh?” Mingyu says, grinning as he pulls off his shoes and tosses them into the corner. “I mean, I knew I was charming, but I didn’t realise I was that charming.”
Sparks laughs, kicking his legs up onto his bunk. “Dude, she admitted it in front of everyone. You’re lucky we didn’t start calling you ‘Pepper’s new boyfriend’ right there.”
Soonyoung’s jaw tightens, and he stares down at his hands. He doesn’t want to listen to this. He really doesn’t want to hear Mingyu, who’s been hovering around you for weeks, talking about your confession, as if it’s still a big deal, as if it’s more than just an innocent childhood crush.
But Mingyu keeps going, his voice full of amusement. “Man, I should’ve paid more attention back then. I didn’t even realize she was crushing on me when we were kids. Can you imagine if I’d noticed?”
Sparks snorts, shaking his head. “You probably would’ve been too clueless to do anything about it.”
Mingyu shrugs, laughing. “Maybe. But hey, it’s not too late, right?”
Soonyoung feels his chest tighten. The words hit him like a punch, even though Mingyu is clearly joking. The easy way he talks about you, as if he could just turn on the charm and pick up where your old feelings left off, makes Soonyoung’s blood boil.
“Maybe you should try,” Sparks says, grinning. “Pepper is cool. You guys would make a cute couple.”
He wants to say something—anything—to stop this conversation from going any further, but he can’t. His throat feels tight, and his thoughts are all over the place, tangled in confusion and frustration.
Mingyu laughs again, the sound light and careless. “Nah, I’m just messing around. We’re good friends. But still, it’s kinda funny, right? Me and (Y/n). Who would’ve thought?”
“Can we drop it?” His voice is sharper than he intends, cutting through the laughter. Both Mingyu and Sparks go quiet, turning to look at him in surprise.
Mingyu raises an eyebrow, clearly confused. “What’s up with you, man? We’re just joking around.”
Soonyoung swallows hard, trying to keep his voice steady. “I know. But can we just… not?”
Sparks glances between the two of them, sensing the tension but not quite understanding it. “Dude, relax. It’s not that serious.”
But it is serious, at least to him. He can feel the weight of everything pressing down on him—your confession, the truth about his past, the way you looked at him earlier when you figured out who he really was.
Mingyu narrows his eyes slightly, finally starting to catch on that something’s bothering Soonyoung. “Okay… what’s going on with you?”
Soonyoung exhales, leaning back against the wall, his heart still pounding. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not with Mingyu. Not when he’s still trying to sort through his own feelings, his jealousy, his fear that maybe he’s already too late.
“Nothing,” Soonyoung mutters, his voice tight. “Just tired. I’m heading to bed.”
Without waiting for a response, he pushes himself up from his bunk and heads for the door, needing to get out of there.
As the door closes behind him, he hears Mingyu say something to Sparks, his voice lower now so that Soonyoung cannot hear what he’s saying.
“You think he’s jealous?” Sparks asks, half-joking but with a hint of seriousness.
Mingyu chuckles softly, but there’s an edge to his tone. “Maybe.”
Soonyoung grits his teeth as he steps into the cool night air, the quiet of the campgrounds a stark contrast to the noise in his head. He doesn’t want to be jealous, but he can’t help it. It’s eating at him, the way Mingyu talks about you so casually, like he has the right to claim a piece of your past, like it wouldn’t be that hard for him to step into your present.
And all Soonyoung can think is that he’s been hiding behind Hoshi for so long, afraid to show you who he really is, that he might’ve lost his chance before he ever truly had it.
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The problem with being known as the bubbly, energetic counsellor is that it’s immediately obvious to everyone when you are not feeling bubbly or energetic.
You’ve tried to keep your energy up and you’re still having a lot of fun with your group, but its hard when half of your mind is filled with unanswered questions. And it doesn’t help that the only person that can answer them is avoiding you entirely.
Having had a bit of time to think about it, you are still entirely confused about the situation. You don’t understand why Soonyoung hid your shared past from you, you don’t understand why he’s ignoring you now, and you don’t understand why not talking to him is making you feel so bad (okay, maybe you do understand that one).
You’re not used to feeling like this—so off balance. Normally, you’re the one with the infectious energy, always the first to lift everyone’s spirits. But now? Now it’s hard to keep up the act. The kids don’t notice, thankfully. They’re still having fun, still looking to you for guidance, but the other counsellors have started to pick up on it.
“Hey, Pepper,” Gecko says one evening, sidling up next to you while you sit on a bench outside our shared cabin. “You okay? You’ve been kinda… off lately.”
You force a smile, even though your heart isn’t in it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, I guess.”
Gecko raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure. And I’m a unicorn.”
You huff out a laugh despite yourself, grateful for the attempt to lighten the mood. “I don’t know. It’s just been a weird few days.”
Gecko nods, leaning back against the bench. “Anything to do with Hoshi?” she asks, her tone casual but probing.
You blink, startled by the directness of the question. “What? No, why would—”
“Oh, come on,” Gecko interrupts, giving you a knowing look. “It’s obvious something’s going on between you two. He’s been acting weird, and you’ve been all mopey. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. Part of you wants to spill everything—to tell Gecko about Soonyoung, about the past, about the way he’s been avoiding you—but another part of you feels too raw, too exposed to talk about it yet. So instead, you just shrug.
“I don’t know. We just… haven’t really talked lately.”
Gecko snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. He’s been avoiding you like you’ve got the plague or something.”
The words sting, even though you already know they’re true. You don’t say anything, just stare down at the ground, your mind racing with everything you haven’t been able to figure out.
Gecko seems to sense that you’re not ready to talk, because she nudges your shoulder gently and stands up. “Well, if you want to vent or throw pinecones at him or something, let me know. I’ll back you up.”
You manage a small smile as she walks away, but the moment she’s gone, the weight of everything comes crashing back down.
By the end of the week, your patience has worn thin. Soonyoung is frustratingly good at avoiding you. Every time you try to approach him, he slips away, always just out of reach. It’s almost like a game, except there’s nothing fun about it.
You watch him across the campfire one evening, the flames casting flickering shadows on his face. He’s laughing with the other counsellors, his expression as lighthearted as ever, and you don’t know how he’s so unbothered. It makes you want to scream.
You don’t know what to do, but you do know what you normally would do when you feel like this – who you’d normally talk to.
That night, you find a snug space in the mess hall after everyone else had gone to bed. Typing the familiar number into your phone, you hear the brief ringing before the twin voices of your best friends ring out through the tinny speakers.
“(Y/n)!” Emma’s voice is the first to break through. “What’s up? You never call this late. Everything okay?”
Jane’s voice follows immediately after. “Yeah, it’s gotta be past midnight over there. What’s going on?”
You let out a sigh, leaning back against the wall of the hall and twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers. You don’t even know where to begin, but you know you need to talk to them. If anyone can help you sort through this mess, it’s Emma and Jane.
“Hey, guys,” you say, your voice quieter than usual. “I’m… I’m just feeling a little off, I guess. Camp’s great, but there’s this... thing.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Emma pipes up. “Ooh, sounds like someone’s got boy drama.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, even though a smile pulls at your lips. “It’s not like that.”
“Oh, but it totally is,” Jane interjects. “I can hear it in your voice. You sound all conflicted and mopey like the time that Joshua Hong rejected you in freshman year. Spill, (Y/n). What’s going on? Is it about Mingyu?”
You bite your lip, unsure of how to explain everything without sounding completely ridiculous. You hadn’t let slip about your feelings towards Soonyoung on any of your previous calls, even if you had mentioned him before. “No, it’s about someone else - my co-leader, Soonyoung.”
You can hear your friends cooing through the phone.
“It turns out we were campers here together when we were kids, and he just didn’t tell me. Now that I’ve figured it out, he’s avoiding me, and I don’t know why.”
“So… wait,” Emma says slowly, as if piecing it all together. “You knew him when you were kids, but he didn’t tell you who he really was until now?”
“Exactly,” you sigh. “I didn’t remember because he’s so different now – I mean he looks different, and he used to by really shy - but now that I know, he’s been dodging me. Every time I try to talk to him, he slips away. It’s like he doesn’t want me to know the truth.”
Jane’s voice is thoughtful when she finally speaks. “Okay, so let’s break this down. Why do you think he didn’t tell you?”
You shrug, even though they can’t see you. “I don’t know. Maybe he thought it didn’t matter, or he didn’t want to dredge up old memories.”
“Or maybe,” Emma chimes in, “he thought it would change how you saw him.”
You blink, taken aback. “Why would it change anything?”
“Because he’s not the same person anymore,” Emma says matter-of-factly. “He’s confident and outgoing now, right? Maybe he’s worried you’ll only see him as the shy kid you remember instead of who he is now.”
That thought hadn’t even crossed your mind, and you let it settle for a moment. Soonyoung was so sure of himself now, but was there a part of him that was still afraid of being that quiet, overlooked kid?
“Okay, but that doesn’t explain why he’s avoiding me now,” you say. “I just want to talk to him and clear the air, but he won’t give me the chance.”
Jane speaks up this time, her voice firm. “Well, then you’ve got to stop waiting for him to come around. You’ve got to force him to talk to you.”
“Force him?” you ask, feeling a bit unsure. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.”
“Not literally drag him by the collar or anything,” Jane says, laughing softly. “But you need to be direct. If he’s not coming to you, then you go to him. Corner him somewhere he can’t run away. He obviously has something he’s not saying, and the only way you’re going to get answers is if you stop giving him the option to avoid you.”
Emma agrees immediately. “Yeah, if he’s not going to be brave enough to face it, you’ve gotta take the lead. You’re (Y/n), for crying out loud. You’ve never been one to back down from a tough conversation.”
You chew on your lip, their advice sinking in. They’re right. You’ve been waiting, hoping that Soonyoung would come to you, that he would explain himself. But that’s not going to happen. If you want answers, if you want to figure out why he’s been avoiding you and what’s really going on, you’ll have to be the one to confront him.
But the thought of it makes your heart race. “What if he’s just avoiding me because… I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t want to be friends anymore?”
Jane’s laugh is sharp and confident. “If he didn’t want to be around you, he wouldn’t be this weird about it. He’d just be distant and chill. This sounds more like he’s scared or confused. You’ve got to talk to him.”
Emma’s voice softens, more serious now. “Look, the worst thing you can do is leave things unsaid. You’ll drive yourself crazy overthinking it. So just corner him somewhere, ask him straight-up what’s going on, and don’t let him avoid the conversation.”
You take a deep breath, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination settle over you.
“Okay,” you say, nodding to yourself. “You’re right. I’m going to talk to him.”
“Damn right you are,” Jane says, her voice filled with pride. “And, oh my god, can we just quickly mention that I was totally right about your summer romance.”
You choke out a laugh, your head falling back. “Don’t forget that he currently won’t speak to me, let alone actually like me back.”
Emma scoffs, booing down the phone. “Nuh, uh. I don’t want to hear that negative speak. You’re going to find that boy, force him to talk to you, and then jump his bones – I can feel it in the air.”
“Okay, I’m going to hang up now.” You crack up, unable to contain the joy from chatting with your best friends again. Despite Emma’s proclivity for vulgarity, you can’t help but feel a sense of home radiating from the phone.
In spite of your threat, you do actually want to hear about how your friends are doing, what they’re up to now that they’re home from their holiday. You spend the next hour or so chatting, laughing, and feeling a whole lot more like yourself again.
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The first rumble of thunder that afternoon had been distant, barely a low grumble on the horizon as the campers gathered in the west building for their activities. By the time that dinner started, the sky has darkened dramatically, thick clouds rolling in like a blanket over the campgrounds. A sudden gust of wind sends the trees swaying, and the smell of rain is heavy in the air.
You have been leading a group of campers in a silly skit, testing their acting abilities with some bastardised version of Shakespeare. Their laughter bubbles through the room as the first flash of lightning streaks across the sky. The crack of thunder that follows seems to shake the whole camp and, just like that, the power flickers out.
The mess hall is plunged into darkness, the only light coming from a faint glow of the evening storm outside. A collective gasp goes up through the room, and the campers freeze, their eyes wide as they look around in fear.
“Alright, guys, no big deal!” You hear Mingyu’s voice call out from across the other side of the hall. “The power’s just taking a little break.”
A second bolt of lightning lit up the hall, and the windows rattled with the booming thunder that followed. This time, a few of the younger kids whimper, and one of the older ones calls out, “What if the storm gets worse? What if we’re stuck here?”
You feel a flicker of doubt, but before you can speak, a familiar voice cuts through the nervous chatter.
“Hey, come on, guys. This isn’t a storm – it’s an adventure.”
Soonyoung strides to the front of the room, his expression completely unbothered, his signature grin firmly in place. Even in the dim light, there is a calmness radiating from him that instantly shifts the mood. He rubs his hands together, as if gearing up for some grand plan. “You’ve all seen movies, right? Power goes out, storm rolls in… that’s when the real fun starts.”
A few campers exchange glances, clearly intrigued, and you feel a wave of relief as the attention shifted from fear to curiosity.
“And what we’re going to do,” Sparks jumps in, joining Soonyoung at the front. “Is make this the most epic camp night ever. No electricity? No problem. That just means we get to tell the best stories.”
As the kids begin to chat between themselves, a spark of excitement now overtaking the room, you gather with the other counsellors to work out a plan.
“Fairy and I will go and get some torches and candles, make a nice cozy atmosphere while we’re waiting for the power to come back.” Mingyu suggests.
“Great, and I can lead a story time, get the kids distracted.” Sparks adds, and Hatter nods in agreement.
Mingyu’s brows furrow for a moment, looking around the room. “We should probably get Old Bill to go check the breakers, see if we can turn the power on.”
“Oh, no need, I can go check them!” You say with a cheerful grin, wanting to be as helpful as you can.
“Are you sure?” Mingyu checks with a frown. “Maybe someone else should go with you.”
“Soonyoung should go.” Gecko pipes in, and you see her giving you a look in your peripheral vision.
Soonyoung hesitates for a moment, before nodding.
“Okay, cool, and Gecko and Ace can work on some snacks and drinks for everyone?”
As everyone agrees to the plan, you feel a sense of opportunity. Soonyoung is going to talk to you tonight, whether he likes it or not.
The loud bangs and rustling of the storm prevents you from any conversation on the way to the breaker room, leaving you filled with tension as you slam the metal door shut behind you. Soonyoung is in front of you, flicking on the battery-powered lights in the room as you lock the door.
He glances around at you for a second, before turning back to the breakers. “So, I guess we just switch them off and on and see what happens?”
The dim light in the breaker room flickers overhead as Soonyoung turns his attention to the row of switches. You watch him quietly, your heart racing—not from fear of the storm, but from the sheer weight of everything you’ve been wanting to say to him.
For a few moments, neither of you speaks. The distant rumble of thunder fills the silence between you, and the occasional burst of lightning lights up the small, cramped room. Soonyoung seems entirely focused on the breakers, flipping one switch after another, as if the problem at hand is just the electrical outage and not the unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.
“Soonyoung.” Your voice comes out a little sharper than you intended, but it gets his attention. He freezes for a second before turning to face you, his expression guarded.
“Yeah?” He asks, his tone too casual.
You cross your arms, feeling the frustration you’ve been bottling up for days bubbling to the surface. “We need to talk.”
He glances back to the breakers, clearing trying to avoid your gaze. “About what? The power should be back on in a few minutes.”
You step closer, not letting him dodge the conversation this time. “Not about the power. About you avoiding me. About why you didn’t tell me who you were.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “This really isn’t the best time-”
“No,” You cut him off, your voice firm. “It is the best time. You’ve been avoiding me for days, and I’m tired of pretending like nothing’s wrong. I want to know why you didn’t tell me. And why you’re acting like … like you don’t even want to know me anymore.”
Soonyoung finally turns to face you fully, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes – guilt, maybe, or regret. He doesn’t say anything for a long moment, the silence stretching out as the storm rages outside.
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it mattered,” he says at last, his voice low. “Back then … I was different. I wasn’t like I am now, and I didn’t want you to think of me as that shy kid from all those summers ago.”
You stare at him, processing his words. “So you just pretended we didn’t know each other?”
He lets out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head. “No, it’s not that. I didn’t think you’d remember me. I barely talked to anyone back then, and I figured it didn’t matter.”
You feel a pang in your chest at his words, at the thought of him feeling like he had to hide part of himself from you. “But I did remember you, eventually. And when I did, you started avoiding me. Why, Soonyoung?”
He flinches at the sound of his name. His jaw tightens, and for a second, you think he’s going to deflect again, but then he takes a deep breath. “Because I was scared,” he admits quietly, his eyes meeting yours. “I didn’t want that version of me to affect how you see me now. I’ve changed, and I didn’t want to mess up whatever this is by dredging up the past.”
“So you thought that hiding it was better?” You ask softly.
“I thought it was easier.” He corrects. “But clearly, I was wrong.”
The frustration that had been simmering in your chest starts to ebb, replaced by something else—something softer, more understanding.
“You know,” you begin, your voice gentler now. “I love how fun and adventurous you are, how you’re so great with the campers and that I can never predict what you’re going to do next. But I liked that kid too. Sure, he was quiet at first, but I thought he was really funny and sweet when I got to know him.”
You move forward, feeling a surge of confidence in the dim light of the breaker room. You feel your hand reaching out to grab his, and his fingers are smooth and warm under your grasp. He looks a little taken aback at first, but then his grip tightens around your hand and you feel your heart beat rising. “I don’t just want to know one side of you, Soonyoung. I want to know all your sides, but you didn’t even give me the chance to figure that out because you kept pushing me away.”
He looks down at the floor, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I didn’t mean to push you away,” he mutters. “I just … I didn’t know what else to do.”
He looks impossibly pretty under the dim light, his hair hanging in front of his eyes, wet from the rain. His lips are slightly ajar, and you can tell his breathing is slightly ragged from how close you are standing.
“What are you so scared of?” Your voice is the quietest it’s ever been, the question coming out as little more than a whisper. You can feel his fingers flex away from yours for a second, before renewing their grip on your hand.
“I’m scared that I’m the only one feeling this,” He responds, his voice just as quiet. Your heart pounds in your chest, and you’re certain he must be able to hear it. “I thought – I don’t know, maybe you did too, but then I saw you talking to Mingyu and I wondered if it was better to just keep my distance.”
“Mingyu?” You blink, startled by the confession. “What about him?”
His eyes flick up to meet yours, and you can see the vulnerability there. “Come on, (Y/n). Everyone else can see it, even the kids. You even admitted it at the party, and I knew I had no hope then.”
Your breath catches in your throat, the weight of his words settling over you like the storm outside. You open your mouth to respond, tell him he’s wrong, but the power suddenly flickers back on, the lights buzzing to life around you.
The sudden brightness makes you blink, and in that split second, Soonyoung turns back to the breaker box, flipping the last few switches into place as if nothing had happened.
“Well, the power’s back,” he says, his tone abruptly casual again. “We should probably get back to the others.”
Your heart sinks. The moment is gone, and Soonyoung is already slipping away again. You want to stop him, to make him face everything he just said, but the door to the breaker room creaks open, and Mingyu’s voice echoes down the hallway.
“You guys good in there? Power’s back on, thank god!”
Soonyoung doesn’t even glance at you before he heads toward the door. “Yeah, we’re good. Just flipping switches.”
You stand there for a moment, watching him walk away, your mind swirling. And as the storm rumbles outside, you realise that this conversation is far from over.
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Soonyoung leans against the stack of crates in the activity shed, trying to look busy, but all he can focus on is the knot in his stomach. The conversation in the breaker room with you, the almost-confession, the avoidance – it all keeps replaying in his head, and none of it makes sense to him anymore.
He knows he should talk to you, that much is clear. But what’s the point? You’ve got Mingyu, haven’t you? The way you laugh with him, how comfortable you are around him. If he had to admit it, that’s why he’s been holding back all this time—because deep down, Soonyoung’s afraid he’s already too late.
The door to the shed swings open, and sure enough, Mingyu steps in, looking for something on the selves. Soonyoung tense, inwardly groaning. This is the last person he wants to see right now.
Mingyu, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside Soonyoung, grabs a soccer ball from one of the shelves and tosses it in the air. “Oh, hey! You good, man?”
Soonyoung shrugs. “Yeah, fine.”
Mingyu raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Really? Because you’ve been avoiding me for the last few days, and (Y/n) for like two weeks. What’s going on?”
Soonyoung’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not with Mingyu. But the frustration is bubbling up, and before he can stop himself, the words slip out. “What’s the point, huh? You and her… it’s pretty obvious.”
Mingyu catches the soccer ball mid-toss, frowning. “What are you talking about?”
“You and (Y/n),” Soonyoung mutters, running a hand through his hair, avoiding Mingyu’s gaze. “It’s clear you two like each other. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
For a second, there’s silence. Then, Mingyu lets out a laugh—an actual, full-blown laugh, so loud and sudden that Soonyoung jerks his head up in surprise.
“What?” Soonyoung snaps, his frustration rising. “What’s so funny?”
Mingyu shakes his head, still chuckling as he sets the soccer ball aside. “Dude, are you serious? You think me and (Y/n) are into each other?”
Soonyoung blinks, completely caught off guard by Mingyu’s reaction. “Well… yeah. I mean, you’re always together. She used to have a crush on you, and it’s pretty obvious you guys get along.”
Mingyu sighs, running a hand over his face, as if trying to figure out how to explain this to a five-year-old. “Okay, first of all, that was years ago. She had a crush on me when we were kids. And second, (Y/n) and I are just friends, man. There’s nothing going on between us.”
Soonyoung stares at him, still trying to wrap his head around what Mingyu’s saying. “But… I’ve seen the way you two are. She’s always smiling around you.”
Mingyu rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because we’re friends, and she’s a friendly person. But that doesn’t mean she has feelings for me. Trust me, dude, if she liked me like that, I’d know. And I don’t know, because it’s not happening. If anything, she’s been trying to figure out what’s up with you.”
Soonyoung’s chest tightens at those words. All this time, he’s been avoiding you because he thought he didn’t stand a chance, when in reality, he was the one making things complicated.
“Look,” Mingyu says, his tone softer now. “(Y/n) likes you. I don’t know how else to say it. That fact that you don’t know it already is crazy to me, but apparently you don’t. And as your friend, I have to tell you that if you keep acting like this you’re going to ruin your chances.”
Soonyoung lets that sink in for a moment, his thoughts spinning. He feels like an idiot. All this time, he’d assumed the worst, convinced himself that you and Mingyu were something more, when in reality, he’d just been too scared to face his own feelings.
Mingyu pats him on the shoulder. “You’ve gotta stop running. Go talk to her. Be honest. Otherwise, you’re going to lose her before you even get the chance.”
Soonyoung lets out a deep breath, feeling the weight of his mistake settle over him. He knows now that there’s only one thing left to do. He has to find you, talk to you and explain everything.
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Soonyoung’s practically sprinting through the camp trying to find you. There’s an air of desperation from Mingyu’s warning, and he feels like if he doesn’t solve this now then you’ll never forgive him. He can feel eyes slowly turning towards him as he skates through the campfire area towards the mess hall.
He’s got one mission. He needs to tell you the truth, even if you reject him and tell him to never speak to you again. It’s not Soonyoung’s style to not take the risk, and he needs to stop reverting back into someone he’s not anymore.
The large expanse of mess hall is full of people, whose gaze all turns on him as he slams open the large wooden doors, but you aren’t there. He takes a second to scan the room once more, feeling slightly crazed, before running through to the kitchenette.
He’s already checked the main and west buildings, and if you’re not here then that means you can only be out in the forest or in your cabin. He’s debating whether going into your cabin would be over the line as he steps back out towards the mess hall doors.
“Hosh, you alright-”
“Sorry, no time!” He cuts off Sparks’ questioning, making a mental note to explain later. He practically stumbles as he barrels back outside. His heart is racing, his pulse pounding in his ears, and all he can think about is finding you. He has no idea what he’ll say, but he knows he can’t let you keep thinking he doesn’t care, that he’s been avoiding you out of anything other than fear and his own stupidity.
The air outside is thick with humidity after the storm, the ground still wet beneath his feet. He jogs toward your cabin, his thoughts swirling. If you’re not in there, if you’re somewhere in the forest, he’ll search every inch of camp until he finds you.
And then he sees you.
His throat feels like it closes as you appear in the distance, and his feet falter.
But even as he hesitates, you’re moving closer, practically marching towards him. He can now see that you’ve got this determined look on your face that is making your cheeks puff up in such an endearing way.
“Kwon Soonyoung!” You yell, your voice even firmer than when you’re scolding one of the campers.
He gulps his fear down, willing his feet to start moving again. “(Y/n)…” He calls back, sounding far less confident than he intended.
And then you’re in front of him, an accusing finger pointed at his chest and reddened cheeks betraying your frustration. You seem so angry at him, but it’s the complete opposite of your normal character and he thinks that it makes you look so cute. “This needs to stop, right now. You need to tell me the truth, because I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s completely ruining my mood. I don’t know what delusional story you’ve thought up about Mingyu and I, but it’s not true, and you’re using it to dodge your own feelings. I won’t take one more day of this-”
Soonyoung reaches out to push your hair out of your eyes, his hands lingering on the sides of your face. He completely interrupts your rant, causing you to freeze. Your eyes are wider than he thought was physically possible, lips still parted in a half-finished sentence.
The moment is here now, and he’s going to be brave. “I like you, (Y/n), much more than as friends.”
A small gasp leaves you.
“I’ve thought that you were the best person I’d ever met since we were kids,” Soonyoung continues, his voice shaking slightly but his determination unwavering. “Back then, I didn’t have the guts to tell you, and when we reconnected here, I told myself I’d do it different. I told myself I’d be confident, but … I messed it up.”
He takes a deep breath, gathering the courage to continue. “I’ve been scared stupid that if I told you how I felt, I’d ruin everything between us. And then I was jealous about something that wasn’t even true.”
You blink, your hand reaching up to cover his own. “Soonyoung…”
“I like you,” he repeats, stepping closer, his voice softer now. “Not just as a friend. I like the way you laugh even when things get tough, the way you look after the kids, the way you make everything feel lighter. You make everything better just be being around. And I know I’m not always the best at showing how I feel, but I’m done hiding it.”
The words hang between you, heavy but freeing at the same time. There’s a slight, uncontrollable tremor in his hands as he waits for your response.
“I…” You swallow, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know … I didn’t know you felt this way. I thought you were avoiding me because…”
“Because I was an idiot,” Soonyoung finishes, offering a nervous lopsided smile. “And I didn’t know how to handle my feelings.”
You don’t respond for a second, and it settles inside him that you’ve still not told him your own feelings. The same anxiety that he’d felt before lurches up into his throat, and he has to will himself to be patient and let you have time to process everything.
He watches your lips part and close again, clearly struggling to find the right words. He feels almost certain that it’s because you don’t know how to let him down nicely, and begins to pull his hands away from your face.
But then, you surge forward and before he realises what’s happening your lips are on his, warm and a little chapped, but so soft, so gentle, that his mind goes completely blank. For a split second, Soonyoung freezes, his heart slamming in his chest as the realisation hits him: you’re kissing him. You’re kissing him.
The rush of warmth floods through him, his anxiety melting away as he melts into the kiss. His hands move back to cradle your face gently, puling you closer and deepening the kiss just slightly, as if afraid you might slip away.
When you finally pull back, your faces are still close, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Soonyoung’s heart is racing, his mind spinning, but there’s a calm that washes over him – a peace he hadn’t felt in days. The weight of his confession, the fear of rejection, all of it had been for nothing. You kissed him.
He searches your eyes, still not entirely convinced this is real. “Does this mean…?” He trails off, almost too afraid to ask.
You smile softly, your hand still resting on his cheek. “I like you too, Soonyoung. I’ve been pining after you since he first met – I honestly don’t know how you didn’t see it.”
He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, a smile spreading across his face—one so wide, so genuine, that it almost hurts his cheeks. Relief floods through him, a wave of happiness so strong that he can’t help but laugh softly.
“I can’t believe this,” he admits breathlessly. “I really thought I’d screwed every up.”
You laugh too, your eyes crinkling at the corners as you shake your head. “You did, but not beyond repair.”
Soonyoung chuckles, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m sorry for being such an idiot.”
“You’re forgiven,” you reply, your voice light, teasing. “But next time, don’t wait so long to tell me how you feel, okay?”
He grins, his heart swelling in his chest. “I promise. No more waiting.”
For a moment, the two of you stand there, the tension and uncertainty finally gone. And then, he reawakens to the rest of the world. Soonyoung’s eyes widen in horror as the reality of where you both are crashes down on him. The echo of cheers and catcalls rings through the air, carried by the counsellors and campers alike, all watching the two of you from across the clearing. His face burns with embarrassment as he quickly spins around, spotting Gecko and Sparks practically doubled over with laughter, while Fairy’s clapping enthusiastically, a wide grin on her face.
You, meanwhile, are giggling uncontrollably, your hands covering your flushed cheeks as you try to hide.
Soonyoung wants to disappear into the ground, but he can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips. The situation is too ridiculous to feel anything but mildly horrified and amused at the same time. He scratches the back of his head, turning to face the crowd again as he raises a hand awkwardly.
“Well, uh... surprise?” he calls out, his voice cracking slightly.
The crowd erupts into more laughter and teasing applause, a chorus of “Finally!” and “About time!” floating through the air. Mingyu, standing in the front with a smirk, shouts, “Took you long enough, Hoshi!”
Soonyoung glares playfully at him. “Yeah, yeah, alright, I get it!”
You’re still beside him, peeking through your fingers, but then you glance up at him with that familiar sparkle in your eyes, and all of a sudden, the embarrassment doesn’t seem so bad anymore.
Soonyoung lowers his voice, leaning in closer to you. “Well, at least now we don’t have to hide it,” he jokes, trying to play off his own mortification.
You giggle, your blush fading slightly as you finally uncover your face. “I guess not,” you say, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “Still, couldn’t you have waited until we were somewhere a little more… private?”
He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “To be fair, you were the one who stormed up to me.”
Before either of you can say anything more, Sparks bounds over, eyes wide with mock excitement. “Oh my gosh! The drama! The romance! How scandalous!” he exclaims, fanning himself dramatically.
Gecko saunters up behind him, shaking her head with a grin. “You two are worse than the campers. Could you not have waited until after lights out?”
Soonyoung groans, burying his face in his hands for a moment. “Okay, okay, we get it, we’re the camp’s entertainment for the night.”
But when he glances over at you, he can’t help but smile. You’re still laughing softly, your eyes meeting his with an affection that makes the whole embarrassing spectacle worth it.
Soonyoung looks down at you, his expression softening. “You okay?” he asks quietly, just for you to hear.
You nod, your smile widening. “Yeah. I’m good.”
He grins back at you, his heart feeling lighter than it has in days. “Me too.”
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You bound out towards the camp entrance, your hair messily crimped by some of your campers, t-shirt stained, and a wild grin smothering your face.
Screams of excitement meet you as you round the wooden ‘Camp Logan’ sign and spot that familiar pink Honda hastily parked on the side of the road. The sight of your two best friends is more than you can handle, and you rush to pull them into a big group hug.
“Oh my god, I missed you guys so much!” You cry out, grabbing Emma and Jane in a tight embrace, your heart bursting with joy. Their laughter fills the air, just as loud and chaotic as you remember, and it feels like no time has passed at all since you last saw them.
Emma pulls back first, grinning from ear to ear. “We missed you too. Look at you! You’re a total camp disaster in the best way possible.” She flicks a playful finger at your hair.
Jane raises and eyebrow and smirks. “Uh-huh, and what’s with the expression? You’ve got that ‘something happened’ face on.” She pokes your arm teasingly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Spill.”
You laugh, trying to act nonchalant, but the truth is bubbling up inside you, ready to burst. “Well... okay, a lot has happened,” you admit, biting your lip as you try to contain your excitement.
Emma immediately gasps, leaning in closer. “Oh my God, you’re glowing. This isn’t just camp fun, is it? Tell me Jane’s prediction came true?”
“Well, technically no.” You start, pausing to watch the excitement fall from their faces into confusion. You lips quirk into a smirk. “You said that I’d have a fling with a mysterious counsellor that I’d never see again, and I know, for sure, that I will be seeing him again.”
Emma’s jaw drops, and she grabs your shoulders, shaking you playfully. “WHAT? You’ll what?! Tell us everything right now.”
You can’t help but grin as you launch into the story, telling them about the confession, the camp’s accidently audience, and the time you’d spent together since. They listen intently, reacting with gasps and giggles, hanging on every word.
When you finish, Emma practically squeals, throwing her arms around you again. “This is so cute, I can’t handle it! And the whole camp saw?! You’re living in a rom-com!”
You beam, happiness radiating from your chest. “I have both of you to thank for it – your advice definitely worked.”
Jane laughs, unlocking the trunk. “Here, pass me your trunk and then we can catch up on all the details. We brough snacks and drinks for a mini picnic – you can tell us more about your camp romance while we stuff our faces, and we’ll give you all the updates of what’s been happening in the real world while you’ve been stuck in camp. There’s so much gossip.”
Jane’s hand reaches out to grab your trunk, before noticing that you’re not holding one. Her face scrunches up in confusion for second, before she follows your gaze which has turned back down the woodchip trail.
“Sorry, I was just helping a kid find his parents.” Soonyoung smiles widely, one hand swinging into a wave, the other holding your case. You can hear a small gasp of shock leave your two friends, and cannot help but bubble with pride.
You run forward, grabbing the case from his hands and setting it down next to the car. Slipping your hand into his with a reassuring smile, you lead him over to your friends. “Guys, this is Soonyoung. This is Emma, and this is Jane.” You introduce everyone, your heart full as all of your favourite people meet.
“Nice to meet you both, I’ve heard a lot about you!” Soonyoung grins.
Emma looks at you, quirks an eyebrow, and then spins back round to your boyfriend with a smirk. “I’d hope so. We are the most important people in her life. Although, apparently, we’ll have to make room for one more.”
You laugh, seeing the blush creeping up Soonyoung’s neck. “I hope that’s not too much trouble for you.” He replies with a soft smile.
Jane moves forward, handing the picnic bag over to him and linking his other arm with hers. “If you tell us all the embarrassing things (Y/n) has done this summer, then we’ll consider you accepted.” She chuckles, leading the group back towards the camp.
You fall behind for a second, happy to see your friends and Soonyoung already chatting like they’ve known each other for years. Your heart swells at the sight, and you smile up at the camp archway with gratitude.
“Come on!” Emma’s arm links with yours as she pulls you out of your thoughts towards where the others had gone. You laugh, stumbling to keep pace with her.
“What do you think?” You whisper in a low tone.
Emma hesitates for a second. You feel slightly nervous waiting for her response, but then a smirk breaks out across her lips. “He’s so hot, (Y/n). You will tell me if you got some, right? You can wait until later if you’re scared other people will hear, but I won’t believe you if you tell me that you didn’t.”
You burst out in laughter, shaking your head at your friend’s familiar antics. “You’re unbelievable.”
Summer camp may have been coming to an end, but you can truthfully say that you’re now even more excited for what comes next.
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whalesforhands · 4 months ago
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small drabble of mc tagging on a mission w megumi?? is megumi still a mamas boy even in his first year or does he treat mc js like he treats satoru and suguru?
YIPPEE I HAVENT HAD AN OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE SMTHG LIKE THIS IN A BIT
“Did you all bring your bags? Do you need lunch? Oh, please keep the Jujutsu Tech uniforms on at all times, it’s supposed to be made out of special material resistant against—“
“Maaaa! We know!” Nanako’s pouting at you, flicking a strand of her blonde hair back as she huffs, trying to fix her bangs as the charms upon her smartphone jingle. “We’re not kids anymore!”
“But you’ll always be my children.” Your arms hug all of them impossibly tighter, squeezing around your teenaged children that you swore were barely up to your waist only just a while back…
Yet, they all shot up, with towering heights and healthy physiques paired with the vitality only spry young teenagers could have.
(You have to give yourself credit for raising them so well. Was it Suguru’s cooking that made them grow up so fast?)
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Megumi’s clearly embarrassed, eyebrows furrowed, and averting gaze despite the reddened tips of his ears as he lets you squeeze him and his sisters to your chest. “We’re gonna be fine.”
(He’s so glad that you’re doing this at home and not out in public…)
“It may be our first mission, but we’ve followed Papa and Dad long enough…” Mimiko’s voice is always soft, collected. Always trailing upon the same tone even when you finally let go to let her breathe properly once more, even when you pat down stray strands of her hair— And ruffle it again out of nervousness.
(Teenagers are so hard to figure out. How are they so calm? It’s their first mission!)
“It’s different from the ones you follow your fathers on, kids.” You’re sighing again as you recall the report sheet of the site, hand subconsciously rubbing and messing with someone’s hair as Nanako’s squeaks of complaints fall on deaf ears.
“How about this one?” Gojo Satoru has you on his lap, a hand on the small of your back and the other dangling another sheet of paper before your tired eyes, letting you scan through the nth Curse sighting— Of Grade 3 and below only, of course. “Not too difficult, piece of cake fodder, ya know?”
“Disappearances of 2 kids, Satoru. It might be easy to you, so I’ll take this mission on instead—“
“Ah, ah.” He tuts you, a waggling finger placed upon your lips and hushing you. “No refuting me! We had an agreement that if ya disagreed by the 5th one, I get full control.” His smile makes you uneasy as your bet dawns upon you.
“Plus, dear,” He brings you close, his whisper in your ear doing its best to try and soothe your still panicked state despite the blindfold upon his face. “There’s nothing to worry about if I’m the one chaperoning!”
(“…that’s the part I’m worried about.”
“Hmph! Have you no faith in your strongest husband? I’ll have you know that I have been chaperoning tons of these kids! And with only mild complaints and near death experiences—“ You let him trail off, patting his cheek as he continues on, and on and on— Until you briefly kiss him to stop him in his tracks, lest he went on a tangent about… Washing machines?)
They grow up so fast. You could swear it was only moments ago when you had a Megumi that needed help tying his shoes, a Nanako who always begged both yourself and your husbands to sit down for a makeover, a Mimiko who trailed after you wherever you went— And a Tsumiki who never wanted to let go of your hand.
Time really flies when you’re standing at the genkan, nervously fretting over their bags, giving their Jujutsu Tech uniforms several once overs, and watching your front door open as they slowly start to leave.
“We’ll be back for dinner, if you’re so worried.” Megumi’s quiet, almost muttering under his breath as he grumbles about his assurance to you, blue eyes averted away out of shy bashfulness.
“Gumi’s got a point, Mama! We’re gonna be back in one piece in no time! It’s a 3v1 sesh’ afterall!”
“Mhm.”
Ah, your kids really have grown up.
nvy’s aftertalk:
no i’m not back yet and my tests are in the following weeks so i’ve been studying like a madman hehe. (i hope whichever professor started the trend of surprise quizzes with weightages every week is only ever able to find one sock)
to all of u affected by the hurricane, stay safe!!!!
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wingedjellyfishflight · 10 months ago
Text
Twins
Visiting a military plane demonstration, you wait in line to see inside the planes parked on the runway. You get jostled hard by a rude man and almost fall down from the steps. A nearby military officer in a black balaclava catches you. He is clearly irritated to be here, but you try to flirt a little anyway, asking him if he saves many damsels in distress.
Before he can respond, you hear a scream, then quickly following the sound, more screams. You see a handful of people start attacking bystanders. Springing into action, you help usher many to safety, yelling commands at them to get them moving toward a nearby gate. You don't notice the masked man doing the same thing until you see a woman running past you with a knife in her hand, aiming at him. Acting on pure instinct, you tackle her, knocking it out of her hands. Suddenly, you are in a fierce fight to keep her from grabbing it again. She strikes at you where she can, hitting you fiercely as her desire to continue her attack takes priority over all else. She carves deep gouges in your face with her fingernails, making you panic slightly. You grab her ear and yank, tearing part of it free, releasing a gout of blood. She stops attacking momentarily, and the masked man is there helping you. He zip ties her hands behind her back and tells you to sit on her while grumbling about civilians getting involved. You jokingly tell him you couldn't stand owing a favor and wink up at him before waving him off to go help others.
As you sit, she screams and curses and fights, trying to get free. Finally, irritated beyond belief by her antics, you threaten to Vincent Van Gogh her ear and cut it the rest of the way off. It takes some time, but things finally calm down, and medics make the rounds, triaging and helping everyone who was injured in the attack. A medic and a few military personnel take charge of the woman before your turn for a medic finally comes. He takes one look at you, and he immediately sends you to the line to wait for the hospital. You are a lower priority than most despite needing stitches for your still bleeding wounds, so you wait quietly. A man with a mohawk wanders over with the masked man, asking for your statement. He introduces himself as Soap and the masked man as Ghost, who remains silent. You tell Soap what you saw and did, then joke quietly, "I couldn't seize the day, so I seized an ear." He chuckles, and you glance at Ghost. "I hope to see you around," you say with a bloody smile, but you can't manage a wink past the swelling of your face as they load you into an ambulance. At the hospital, you are treated for a broken clavicle, two broken fingers, and the gouges on your face, which need stitches.
On Monday, you report to your new commanding officer. It takes extra time to get on base because the gate guards are on high alert and very suspicious of your bandaged face. When you finally get to his office, Captain Price is surprised at the injuries you are sporting. You explain what happened, and he smirks at your mention of Ghost but doesn't say anything. He gives you a quick tour, showing you the med bay, mess hall, and your quarters before continuing on with the rest of his day.
You slowly carry your things from your vehicle to your quarters, having packed everything in small boxes so they aren't too heavy, determined not to need help. You are on the last load when Soap nearly runs into you in the hall. He recognizes you despite your bandages and quickly takes the box out of your hands despite your protests, carrying it to your room for you.
"So, what are ye movin in here for, lass? Fall in love with someone at the airshow," he asks, waggling his eyebrows at you.
You laugh, "No, just the new doctor for the team."
He looks dubiously at your injuries, and you roll your eyes, "Can't a girl save a man without it coming back to bite her?"
He laughs and takes his leave late for a meeting. When you go to lunch, he waves you over to sit, knowing how much it sucks to be the new guy. Ghost sits across from you without looking and strikes up a conversation with Soap about some upcoming training. When you laugh at a joke that Soap makes, he finally looks up and does a double-take.
"Damsel, what are you doing here?"
"New doc," Soap choruses.
"Doc, we need to get you trained in grappling," Ghost grumbles, looking over your injuries.
"Sure, in about 3 months when I can lose the sling," you quip.
"I'll reserve the room," he says flatly, undeterred by your current state.
"That's an estimate, not a guarantee, Ghost."
"Yes, that is why you will bulk up on protein and heal faster." He picks up his tray and shoves the meat off it and onto yours.
You stare at him for a long moment before saying, "No thanks... I'll just eat MY food." His glare leaves no room for argument, so you turn away, but you can still feel his eyes on you. You grumble as you eat a bite, and he smirks before turning back to his own tray. The moment he looks away, you shove the meat back on his plate and stand to leave. His "Oi!" calling after you makes you want to grin, though the stitches prevent it as you hurry off.
At the end of the week, you are glad to be able to remove the stitches. You wait until after hours, setting yourself in front of a mirror, snipping, and pulling them out. A boot scuff tells you that you're not alone. "Clinic is closed. If it's an emergency, I can treat you, but otherwise, you'll have to wait until tomorrow." There is no answer, and you look around seeing no one. But you know what you heard. You go back to pulling stitches, but shift your position a bit, protecting the arm in a sling in case someone decides to attack you again.
"You know you can have someone else pull those, right?" Ghost's voice floats to you.
"Damn place is haunted. I'm hearing ghosts talk to me," you say, chuckling to yourself.
He huffs and walks out of the darkness to stand behind you. "I'm just saying you don't have anything to prove."
"I'm not trying to prove anything. I'm just working to minimize the scarring." You say it flippantly, but he can see the slight frown on your face as you look at the injuries.
"All I see is a hero, but I do understand. You could always mask up like me." He says it jokingly, but you consider it.
"Not the worst idea. But a bally isn't my style. Wouldn't want to copy your thing." You finish pulling stitches after a few more minutes of silence and turn to face him, but he has disappeared into the shadows again. "See if I invite you over for tea, then." You hear a chuckle fading off in the distance and smile despite yourself.
The next day, you have a grimace on your face the entire day, seeing others stare at your now stitch-less but still injured face. Ghost conspicuously doesn't look, and Soap tries to joke about others being jealous, but it falls flat. You've never been a vain person. You can't help being self-conscious, though. Your frustration peaks when a nurse stares slack jawed at you for nearly ten straight minutes, prompting you to put on a surgical mask. It helps slightly, but the gouges are still visible on the rest of your face. You think about it all day and come up with a solution.
That night, you furiously stitch a flower printed bamboo t-shirt into a mask, carefully cutting and sewing it to drape across your face. You make a square block for your eyes, making sure it is smooth and not going to irritate your healing skin. Donning it, you make a few adjustments, stitching the arms shut except for a slit near your ears to fit a surgical mask as needed, and you stitch the neck of the shirt closed. The end result is a cute, breathable mask that hides all of the scarring except a line near your eyes. It's perfect even if it covers almost your entire face.
The stares you get the next week are still nerve-wracking, but they lessen as the time goes on. Ghost simply throws a smirk your way while Soap laments the loss of another friend with a wink at you, not able to stop himself from teasing. You shut down your staff when they try to bring it up. Captain Price shoots you a sad look and a nod. He would clearly prefer you didn't hide, but he understands. Your work maintains its same level of quality, so he simply marks the preference to hide your face in your file and moves on. The first person to complain about your supposed lack of professionalism to him is told to "fuck off right to hell, you daft prick," professionally... in those exact words.
A few months in, your sling is finally off, and you spend several hours a week grappling with Soap and Ghost as promised. Ghost even trains you in using a knife in combat, quipping that you can switch to your scalpel when the lessons are finished. The scars on your face are growing darker, becoming more and more apparent as time goes on. The mask will stay. When the Captain tries to discuss it gently, you lift the bottom, showing him the edges of the scars. The dark purple and red lines against your pale skin couldn't be anymore obvious. He nods with a quiet, "Understood, Major."
After Ghost shows you many techniques and hones your skills, he brings you into the recruit class one day a week. The goal is to help you maintain those skills and learn against different opponents who are less skilled than him. The first time you begin to win a fight, the recruit yanks off your mask despite specific instructions not to do so, hoping to stun you. Instead, you get angry and knock him over onto his stomach, one arm pinned under him and the other under your left foot with your right knee on his back. Calmly, you pull your mask from his hand and work to drape it back over your face. Glancing up, you see that Ghost is standing over you, blocking the other recruits from staring and absolutely furious on your behalf. You climb off the recruit, and the young man gets the tongue lashing of a lifetime and is then smoked in front of the rest of the recruits. The dirty trick doesn't happen again.
It's nine months after you first started working on base when a new man joins the team. You meet him at lunch, looking up and giggling when you realize you have very similar masks on. Soap makes a joke about the two of you being twins, but Ghost just stares at both of you.
König, as he is called, is immediately infatuated with you. He begins wooing you immediately, his eyes never straying to anyone else. He wants to see you wear his mask, watch your eyes roll up in your mask as you cum on him. He wants to see the face beneath the mask fall apart. It doesn't take long for every fantasy of his to come true... and a few of your own. You never feel self-conscious of your scarring around him. He worships you and your scars every chance he gets. But you still wear the mask every day for the rest of your life and sometimes his if you want to rile him up.
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stellarspecter · 2 months ago
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STWG Daily Prompt 12/5/24: Smash or Pass
wc: 871 | pairing: spicy six + chrissy | rating: T | divider by @adornedwithlight
read on ao3
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“Smash or pass, uhhhh,” Robin says, wracking her brain to think of a good competitor. They’ve been at it for a while now, and she’s historically bad at coming up with questions. “Eddie.”
Eddie shoots up from where he was laying upside down from an armchair, nearly falling off in the process. “Me?!”
Robin nods with a mischievous grin. “You.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s a stupid one, but go ahead, I guess. I suppose I’ll abstain from voting for this round.”
Robin looks expectantly at their friends gathered around the circle. “Well?”
Argyle is the first one to respond, thinking about it for a moment and then giving it a shrug. “Smash.”
Eddie’s eyes widen, but he acts cool about it. Or at least tries to. “Woah, really man?”
“Why not, brochacho? I feel like it’d be a good time.” Argyle doesn’t seem pressed about it, so Eddie tries to follow suit.
“Smash.” Jonathan is the next to join in, sitting next to Argyle, eyes red.
That one, Eddie’s surprised by. “Really, Jonny-boy? I thought you were more into strong independent women.”
Jonathan blushes a little. “Well, like Argyle said, why not?”
Eddie blinks. “Guess so.” He looks to the next person in the circle — the strong independent woman in question. “Nance?”
She hums thoughtfully. “Hmm. Smash.”
“Wh— you?” Eddie looks down at himself in shock. 
Nancy just smiles. “I’ve heard good things about guitarists and their fingers.”
Oh. Well, that makes a little more sense. He waggles his eyebrows at her. “They’re not wrong.”
Nancy laughs and looks expectantly at the next person: Chrissy. She blushes — she’s been blushing this whole game, but especially now that the person they’re talking about is right there — and gives him a small smile. “Um, smash.”
“Chrissy Cunningham!” Eddie gasps, pressing a hand to his chest in astonishment. “A nice young lady with a bad boy like me, imagine how they’d talk!”
She giggles. She’s always amused by his dramatics. “Well, sorry for thinking you’re cute!”
Now, that gives Eddie pause. That sounds real. “Cute?”
“I mean, yeah,” she says, playing with a loose strand of hair. “You’ve got those big eyes, and your hair is nice, and I like the way you talk.”
Eddie doesn’t know what to say. “Oh.”
“Okay, last one!” Robin says, rescuing either of them from having to say anything else. They break eye contact, both of their cheeks flushed. 
“Wait, you’re not gonna go?” Eddie asks.
Robin mimes retching. “You’re asking the lesbian that? Pass, Munson.” Eddie laughs. He shouldn’t have expected anything less. “Last one Steve, come on!” She says, hitting Steve in the arm where she’s sitting next to him.
Steve startles, blinking awake from where he had been zoned out. “Oh, it’s me already?”
Robin rolls her eyes. “Yes, dingus. Now, Eddie, smash or pass?”
“Oh, easy,” Steve starts, and Eddie relaxes. This one’s a gimme. There’s no way Ladies’ Man Harrington is going to say — “Smash.”
Eddie gapes. “What.”
Steve snorts. “You can’t tell me you’re surprised, dude, you’ve seen yourself.”
Eddie looks down at himself, just to double-check that he hasn’t been bodyswapped with someone else in the last ten minutes. “Apparently not the way that you see me.”
“If it helps, I don’t see it either,” Robin tells him. “You look like a wet rat.”
Eddie laughs. “I guess everyone here just likes their men pathetic, then.”
And it’s weird to acknowledge out loud that all of his friends would fuck him if given the opportunity.
…Should he give them the opportunity?
He lounges back in the armchair, spreading his legs a little wider. “So, you all want a ride on the Munson Mobile, huh?”
Nancy wrinkles her nose. “Only if you never call it that again.”
Eddie laughs. “An easy bargain, milady. Deal.” He does a fake little bow, which is hard when sitting down.
“It’s kinda funny that we all have the same taste,” Steve says. “What are the odds?”
“What are the odds, indeed?” Eddie muses. He sits up a little straighter and looks around the circle. “You know, all you had to do was ask.”
“Wait, are you serious?” Jonathan asks. 
Eddie shrugs, trying to look nonchalant. “Yeah, man. You’re all hot. Who am I to turn down an opportunity this good? I’m already lucky enough that you all like this ugly mug, but to have you all in the same place, admitting it?” He shakes his head. “I gotta say, kinda feels like this might be a dream.”
Steve knee-walks over to his chair and steps between his legs, putting his hands on his knees. Jesus Christ, these people are gonna kill him. “It’s not a dream,” he tells him. “It’s real. And we’d be lucky to have a chance with you too.”
“You have one,” Eddie breathes, and before he knows it he’s leaning down to kiss Steve.
He vaguely hears catcalling in the background, but he’s too distracted by Steve’s lips to pay it much thought. When they finally break away, he looks over to find the rest of his friends avidly watching. 
Steve is the one who smiles and says, “Who’s going next?”
Suffice it to say, Eddie’s never had a better night.
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goldenseresinretriever · 7 months ago
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Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 2
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe
Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?
Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.
Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter
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You lean against the counter in the exam room, giving Jake’s chart one last once-over while you wait for him to come back from the showers. There’s nothing in there detailing any recent injuries and your suspicion increases. You’re still weighing your options when the door opens and Jake saunters in, clad in a simple Dogfighters t-shirt and athletic shorts, his hair still wet from the shower. He heads over to the exam table and pops up onto it, leaning to rest his palms on his knees.
“So Bugs, let’s get to it.” You give him a confused look.
“Bugs?”
“Yup.” He fails to elaborate but his eyes tell you he’s waiting for you to catch on to some joke you’re unaware of.
“I don’t get it. Why’re you calling me Bugs?”
“What’s up, Doc?” He says with a grin in a poor imitation of Bugs Bunny which in turn makes a smile spread over your face, your worry temporarily forgotten. “You work for a hockey team now, Bugs, you need a nickname. So Bugs Bunny, or Bugs for short. Unless you’d rather I call you Bunny.” He waggles his eyebrows at you playfully. You feel your cheeks flush at his teasing. “So, what do you think, Bugs?”
��I think it’s a good thing you’re good at hockey.” You laugh nervously, as your mind comes back to the task at hand. You clasp your hands in front of you to keep them from shaking as you steady yourself for what you’re about to do. “Let’s get down to business shall we?” He nods, settling back on the table. “As I mentioned earlier, today we’re just going to be doing a standard physical, nothing special, but before we start, there’s something I want to talk to you about.” You watch him stiffen, his carefree, flirty demeanor now wary. It makes your heart ache. As a doctor, seeing your patients in pain has always been hard for you, but you trust your ability to alleviate it. To do that for Jake, though, he’d have to trust in you too. “During the introduction, I mentioned that the only way I can fully be of service to you as your physician is if we trust each other enough to be honest with each other.” You swallowed, crossing your arms across your chest, steeling yourself before you brought your eyes to look straight into his stormy ones. “So that being said I need to know, what’re we working with? A groin pull? An MCL pull or tear maybe?”
You had prepared for a lot of different reactions from Jake but the shock on his face wasn’t one of them. His mouth had fallen open and you couldn’t help the way your eyes caught on his slightly chapped pink lips.
“Jake?” You whisper gently like you’re trying not to spook a horse.
It breaks him out of his stupor. “What the fuck?” It sounds like it’s been punched out of his lungs. “How the fuck? How the fuck could you possibly?” His chest is starting to rise and fall rapidly and you push off the counter, his chart abandoned as you place your hands on both of his broad shoulders, crowding his space as you coach him gently.
“Jake, I need you to breathe for me, can you do that? In, and hold, and out.” You guide him through the breathing, his eyes on the floor on yours on the top of his head, watching water droplets slide along the strands until finally, his breathing evens out. You take your hands off his shoulders and drop to squat in front of him, catching his eyes where his head is still hung. “Talk to me, Jake, I can help. Let me help.” You’re not sure when you took his hand in yours as you realize you’re rubbing gentle circles in the skin. Nothing about that is professional but then again neither is accusing a multimillionaire athlete with a fantastic legal team of lying about a serious injury, so you’re 0 for 2.
“How, how did you know?” He whispers, and your heart breaks at the hesitation and fear in his voice. “Who told you? Did my old physician call you? Did my publicist?” His voice gets louder with each question, raising with his frustration. He runs the hand you’re not holding through his wet hair angrily, stray water droplets raining down over you.
You shake your head. “No, no Jake, no one told me, I just… I just knew.” He brings his eyes back to you, accusation shining hotly in them.
“How, Bugs? Explain how you ‘just knew’.”
“I…” you hesitate, embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you realize you’re going to have to explain yourself. You sit back on your heels to get comfortable, letting go of Jake’s hand to fiddle with your own. “So we had this game of sorts at my fellowship during the playoffs. Since if athletes get injured during the playoffs there’s a high chance it doesn’t get revealed until the season’s over, those of us who got together to watch the games made a game out of it. We’re sports doctors, right? So it’s our job to be able to diagnose athletes quickly and efficiently. So we would make notes of potential injuries each game and if we were right and they got announced after the season we’d ‘win’ and basically yeah we’d bet on how valid we thought each other’s diagnoses were.”
You sigh, remembering that night. “It was the Conference Finals, game 4 against the Ducks. You were fighting some defenseman from the Ducks who was getting too pushy with covering you, your legs got tangled and then you went down. Your legs stretched a weird way and then you went off the ice for your penalty and then you were benched for the next half of that period. I knew something was wrong. Everyone else thought your coach just wanted you to cool your head. I guessed either a groin pull or something with your MCL. Then the season ended and nothing came out about the injury. I just couldn’t shake it though, this feeling that I was right.” You shake your head. “Then, you show up here and you’re giving me these weird looks every time I mention the physical and then shuffling around when I mentioned injuries during my speech so I decided to take a chance. I know it’s extremely unprofessional to accuse you of hiding an injury but I meant it when I said it, I care about your health and I just want to help you, Jake, and I can, but only if you’re honest with me.” You let out a huff, waiting for Jake to respond, too nervous to raise your eyes from his sneakers to watch his reaction.
“Well I’ll be damned, Bugs.” You look up at that to see the curiosity and awe in his face. “That’s really something.”
“So,” you put on a small smile. “Are you gonna let me help you, Jake?”
His eyes dim at that. “Bugs, I can’t let you do that.” You can’t help the scowl that contorts your face.
“And why not, Jake? You’d rather throw the rest of your career, and maybe your life, away than ask me for help?” You’re trying to understand, you really are, but he’s just so stubborn and you can’t understand why. “We have time now, we have two months until the start of the season, and if you let me help you, you can play, you can even stay on the first line, but time is not our friend, Jake you need to trust me, sooner rather than later.”
“If I let you help, it goes in my chart, and if it goes in my chart, it goes by Maverick and Simpson. And if that happens, I get benched.”
“What part of, if I help you won’t get benched, was not in English, Seresin?” You’re done being the nice guy.
“You can’t guarantee that. My last physician said I’d have to spend half the next season riding the bench, that I’d be lucky to make the third line.” It occurs to you that maybe this is why he left Dallas.
“Maybe if you let me look at it, I could give you MY opinion?” Irritation creases your face.
“If you look at it, that means scans, that means evidence, I can’t have a trail of medical records leading the higher-ups to this, I could get fired for it.” He thinks he’s being reasonable, you can see it in his eyes, but he’s being anything but. It’s wearing down every one of your nerve endings and it’s not even noon on your first day, you’re going to snap.
“You put me out five hundred bucks!” You shout, seething and you don’t care if he sees anymore. His face shifts into confusion for a second as he processes what you’ve just yelled before he bursts out laughing at your attack out of left field. He throws his head back as he does it, and it’s a deep laugh, from the bottommost parts of his belly, but you can’t enjoy it with how furious you are.
“If it’s the money you’re looking for, Bugsy, I can write you a check right now.” He says, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Only later do you wonder when the last time he laughed that hard was.
“Seresin, get the fuck out of my exam room.” Your voice is cold, monotone, exacting, and you’re doing everything you can to maintain your paper-thin composure. At your change in tone, his grin fades as he realizes you don’t find this as funny as he does.
“W-What?” He stammers nervously, confused by your request.
“I said, get the fuck out of my exam room, Seresin.” You stand up and his head follows you holding your eyes with his.
“But what about the physical?”
“I can’t examine a patient that doesn’t want to be examined, and I’m sure as hell not getting fired for lying on a physical report, because then I’ll get fired, and unlike you, Mr. Seresin, I can’t afford to just go somewhere else. So, I’m going to ask you one more time, get the fuck out of my exam room. We can reschedule your physical when you’re ready to be transparent with me. Thank you for your time.” You purse your lips into a straight line as you collect his chart and your laptop from the counter, opening the door, and holding it open for him. He doesn’t move from where he’s perched on the exam table so you heave a sigh and head out yourself, calling back, “I’m going to get my next patient Mr. Seresin, you better be gone when I get back,” before letting the door swing shut behind you as head off to the gym where the players are doing their individual workouts.
“Javy Machado, you’re up.” You call across the gym, as you make your way to the shirtless dark-skinned man at the leg press, you tap his sweaty bare shoulder to get his attention and he pulls out his headphones.
“Sorry, miss, what’s up?”
“You’re up, Machado.” You smile, trying to regain your professionalism after the number Jake did on you. He returns the smile but you can see the confusion in his eyes.
“Already, miss? You’re done with Jake?”
“Mr. Seresin had something come up and had to reschedule. I’m not at liberty to say anything else.” You give him a tight-lipped smile and his brow furrows in concern as he gets up, wiping his face with a towel before putting his t-shirt back on and following you back to the exam room. Thankfully, Jake had left and you take your place at the counter, placing your computer back down and replacing Jake’s file in the rack, removing Javy’s instead.
“Ma’am?” you look up to see Javy fidgeting with his hands where he’s sat on the exam table.
“What’s on your mind, Javy?” You lean against the counter.
“I know you said you’re not at liberty to say but I have to try, okay? Is Jake okay?” Your heart breaks at the pain and helplessness in his voice. He cares so much and suddenly you’re angry at Jake all over again for hurting his best friend this way, your mind drifting back to the conversation you had with Natasha earlier.
“Honestly, Javy? I don’t know.” You shake your head, a tired laugh escaping your lips. “He won’t talk to me, and honestly I was hoping to get some answers from you but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that you’re just as in the dark about what’s going on here.”
“So his physical?”
“I refused to do it until he’s ready to be honest with me. Since the team is still new we don’t have a designated mental health professional, so I’m responsible for all aspects of your health right now and I refuse to submit an incorrect or incomplete report.”
“And and if he doesn’t?”
You shrug, exhausted. “He can’t play without a physical.” You set your jaw. “I know it sounds ridiculous in the grand scheme of things but if I let a sick player on the ice, that would break every code I’m bound to, personal and professional.”
“No,” Javy shakes his head. “You’re right, that’s what he needs. I think it’s been a while since someone told him no, it’ll be good for him.” He gives you a rueful smile and you chuckle.
“You’re a good friend, Javy.”
“So is Jake,” he gives you an apologetic look, “at least he usually is.”
“I’m sure he is.” You say, giving him a sad smile. “I’m sure he is.”
***
The next morning at warmups, you stand beside Maverick as he gives the team a rundown of his plans for the day. You’ll be continuing the process of giving physicals today. You’d gotten through the first line yesterday with the exception of Jake and the rookie goalie, Bob, who you’d be starting with today since the goalie coach was visibly missing from the rink.
“And before we break, Bugs has an announcement for you guys.”
You clap your hands together as twenty pairs of eyes turn to you. “Great job with the physicals yesterday you guys, not only has it been a good chance to familiarize myself with you as patients, but also a great opportunity to get to know you as coworkers. I really appreciate how patient you’ve been with me. I hope that attitude can continue going forward into the season. That being said, I know there has been some grumbling about these physicals since they seem like a waste of time since you get them done every year, but I would like to remind you all that a current physical with me is a requirement to play for the team come October. And since I want these done as soon as possible, if you don’t have a valid physical by the end of next week, I’ll be forced to give my professional opinion to Mav and Beau that you aren’t fit to play for the team.” You could’ve heard a pin drop in the arena. You could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes in your head, but you refused to acknowledge them, refusing to even invite suggestions that he was the cause of the issue. You had patient confidentiality to uphold no matter what other games you had to play to achieve compliance. “Okay, boys that’s it, Bob you’re with me.” The goalie flashes you a thumbs-up before lumbering off to the locker room to shed his equipment. You go on ahead to prep for his physical, stopping by your office to grab your laptop and today’s stack of files.
You almost jump when you push the door to the exam room open to see a sweaty Jake Seresin leaning against the exam table still in his gear and skates, arms crossed over his chest, brows drawn together in a frown. His eyes follow you across the room and you head over to the counter and start getting set up for Bob. Finally, when it becomes clear that he’s not going to volunteer anything, you turn to face him, fighting the urge to cross your arms across your chest and immediately go on the defensive. He’s a patient. He needs your help. He deserves your grace. You repeat in your mind as you force your best professional smile. “Mr. Seresin, what can I do for you?”
He scowls at you, whether it’s for the title or your nonchalant tone, acting like you don’t know why he’s here when in reality you really don’t. You have your suspicions and your hopes, but he could very well be here to inquire how good you are juggling, for example. Not good.
“I told you to call me Jake.”
“Well I told you to be honest with me, so I guess we’re even.” You can’t help it, you turn into an immature child in front of him, your professionalism taking a dive out the nearest window. His glare deepens. “Now if you have something to say to me, get it out because Bob’s scheduled to be here any minute now.”
“He hit the showers.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” He shifts on his feet. “Listen, we need to talk about your little stipulation.”
“It’s not my stipulation if it’s literally in your contract, now is it?”
“But-“
“No ‘buts,’ Jake, you need a physical to play and I’m not forging one for you. I’m telling you now that no matter what happens, I will give you my 110% to get you back to full health, whether you come to me now or when you’ve run out of options or stubbornness. I don’t care what your last physician told you, I’m telling you, I will do everything in my power to help you, but for this to work, you have to trust me.”
He shakes his head ruefully. “I don’t get it. Why do it like this? Why haven’t you just gone to Mav and told him what’s going on? He’s got a laundry list of things he could hold over my head to get me to comply to a true physical.”
You chuckle at that. “Three reasons, Jake. First, I’m a grown woman and a fully licensed physician, I can solve my own problems and I’m not the kind of girl who’s going to run to my boss every time a patient throws a tantrum. I learn to catch. Second, that would be a violation of your doctor-patient confidentiality since you didn’t consent to me sharing that information with Mav, for example by informing me during your physical and me, in turn, putting it in your chart at which point it becomes privy to Mav and the other higher-ups who have access to your chart. And third, something more important than a breach in doctor-patient confidentiality would be a breach of your trust. When you step into this room, give me the privilege of your time, and submit yourself to my opinions and care, you trust me to do everything within my power to help you and I trust you to give me everything I need to be able to do my job. If I break that trust, for example, by going over your head instead of settling this like adults, then I can’t expect you to hold up your end of the bargain and I can’t be of help to you. Does that make sense?” He’s quiet, turning your words over in his head you assume. Before he can say anything, the door opens and Bob walks in, fully showered, stopping the moment he sees Jake. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?” He asks nervously, eyes shifting from Jake still in full gear to you. You give him a small smile in return.
“Could you just step outside and give us a second, Bob? I’ll just be a minute.” He nods and heads back out, the door swinging shut behind him. Jake is still silent, so you reach into the pocket of your coat and pull out a Ziploc bag, before crossing the room over to Jake. “Take your time and think about what I just said. At the end of the day, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, and while I have a preference, I’ll do what I have to do. In the meantime,” you extend your hand to him, the Ziploc dangling from your hand revealing the dog treats inside. “Tell Pudding I said hi.” Jake’s eyebrows shoot straight up as he looks at you in confusion.
“How did you-?”
You shrug. “I research all my patients, it helps me find possible points of relatability with them and start building a relationship. Plus Jake, you’re a celebrity and that adorable dog is in literally every single one of your Instagram posts. I may be your physician, but I’m not Amish.” You say with a smirk, passing him the bag and patting him on the shoulder. He takes this as his cue to leave and straightens, heading for the door. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to his right leg, trying your best to see through his facade but you have to hand it to him, he’s doing a damn good job hiding the pain.
“Thanks, Bugs.” He says in farewell and you smile, giving him a nod before he disappears and Bob comes in. He and Jake exchange a look and nod as they pass each other.
When the door clicks shut, Bob ambles over to the exam table, seating himself on the edge before facing you, a grim expression on his face. “Everything okay, Bob?” You ask. You’ve only ever seen the rookie goalie smiling.
“How’s his leg?” Bob hesitates before he blurts out the question. Your eyebrows shoot straight up before you can stop them.
“Bob, I’m not at liberty to discuss my other patients.”
“Yeah, I know that but-“
“How do you know about his leg?” You’re dying to know. You know you just talked a big game about trust with Jake but your desire to know more about his condition is winning against your conscience right now. you’re only human, and every part of you wants to know how this rookie goalie who met Jake less than twenty-four hours ago as far you know already knows about his leg when his best friend doesn’t.
Bob rubs the back of his neck. “I have a bachelor’s in kinesiology and I’m a goalie.” He shrugs. “I spend a good portion of my time standing and watching, so I notice things. He hasn’t said anything to me, and he does a good job hiding it, but on the ice, I’d say he’s too preoccupied with the game to keep up appearances as well. But I can tell he shouldn’t be playing on it.” He shakes his head. “There’s no way Mav knows or else he wouldn’t be on the ice, but it’s only a matter of time before he finds out.” You nod along. It turns out Bob Floyd is full of surprises.
You hesitate before you respond. “I know as much as you do, Bob. I noticed it too, but Jake’s straight up refusing my help and I don’t know why. You’re right, Mav has no idea and I can’t break confidentiality to tell him without losing what little if any trust Jake has in me.”
Bob nods, “I had a feeling you knew after your announcement this morning. Did he really refuse the physical?”
“Not exactly, more like he refused an honest one, and I refused to give a dishonest one.”
“You’re really good at your job, Bugs, you know that right?” The unexpected gentle words from the goalie have tears threatening to blur your vision, you shake your head trying to hold them back, lowering your head to focus on a point on the floor.
“If I was good at my job, I wouldn’t be in this position.”
You look up when you feel a soft hand on your shoulder. “Bugs, it’s because you’re good at your job that you’re in this position. Unfortunately, there are plenty of doctors that would have just done what Jake wants, either because they don’t care or they’re too worried about getting sued by a multimillionaire athlete.” A watery chuckle forces its way past your lips. “You’re doing the right thing, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now.” It takes everything not to hurl yourself into his arms and weep because this is what you’ve needed for months. One person telling you that you’re doing the right thing, that you’re good at your job, that what you’re doing matters, and here is someone who’s supposed to be your patient, healing a part of you.
“Thanks, Bob, I think I really needed to hear that.” You say, trying your best not to notice how your voice wobbles.
“Don’t mention it, Bugs, just trying to help.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes in a half-hug like he can tell you need it, and you don’t even notice that it doesn’t make you feel queasy.
“Hey, Bob? If the hockey thing doesn’t work out? I think you’d make one hell of a doctor.” He laughs and you giggle as you straighten and grab his chart. “Let’s get started shall we?”
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vecnawrites · 29 days ago
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Patreon Reward: A Ballsy Bunny's Cousin
Velvet has been happy with Weiss and Blake, although he has been startled by the sudden arrival of his cousin, Rumi, who wants to meet and 'test' his girlfriends. He just hopes that nothing bad will happen due to their meeting...
Velvet released a low whine when he realized that his cousin Rumi, a full fledged huntress and someone who teased the ever living hell out of him ever since they were little, had decided to come to Beacon after he mentioned that he had not one, but two, girlfriends.
His mother must have told her after he had called asking for advice on how to balance things. Though his mother’s idea of relationship advice was...questionable at best.
“Stick to oral and anal if you don’t want to be up to your armpits in bunny babies~!” was not the advice he was hoping for! Nor was the advice on how best to make girls scream! And he never wanted to know that if he really wanted to give the girls a ‘full cover glazing’, prostate stimulation was the way to go!
He had just wanted some advice on how to make sure one wasn’t feeling neglected over the other!
And now, he had to deal with this.
“So, I hear my sweet baby cousin managed to snag two girls for the price of one?” he flushed as he saw his cousin’s eyebrows waggle, her lips pulled upwards into a teasing leer. “Or did they snag you? Pin you down and ride you until those big, bloated, bunny balls of yours were completely empty~?”
He sputtered, wondering if he had been horrifically cruel to puppies in a previous life to deserve this type of treatment.
And there would be no way to retreat or hide from this. His cousin had always been able to track him down when they were younger, and even then, he didn’t want her wandering around and telling, or worse, making up embarrassing stories about him to other students!
“But don’t worry, I’m not here to embarrass you today. At least, not that badly~” Velvet’s ears twitched as he looked at his cousin hopefully, though that hope died the moment that he saw the smirk on her face. “I want to meet your girlfriends~”
~
Velvet found himself fidgeting as Blake and Weiss stood before a stretching Rumi, her incredibly tight armored leotard highlighting her form, making the male bunny swallow and shift, hating that even though he now had girlfriends, ones who eagerly emptied his balls whenever they could, he was still affected by her.
Ever since puberty had started for him, Rumi had gone out of her way to make his life a horny level of hell, walking around in skimpy clothes whenever she came over, sleeping only in her panties and on top of her blankets, showing off her large, firm tits, capped with dusky nubs that seemed permanently swollen.
Other times, when he was watching shows on the Scroll, she would plop directly onto his lap, her plump ass wiggling and rubbing against his cock, making it get hard in record time and press against her ass, leading to teasing that didn’t end until he fled the room with a hard, leaking cock and her laughter following behind.
Even worse was the time that he had been taking ‘care of himself’ and he hadn’t noticed due to his eyes being closed. After he came, he had opened his eyes and his heart had jumped into his throat as he saw her leaning against his door frame, arms folded underneath her chest and watching with a small smile on her face, leaving him mortified as she shamelessly complimented his cock and how much he came but that he needed to work out on how long he lasted.
He nearly died when she offered to ‘help’, playfully tugging her shorts down enough he got a glimpse of her pussy.
He was pulled out of his thoughts as his cousin spoke. “Now, while it’s nice to meet you, I’m afraid I’m going to have to make sure that you’re good enough for my little bunny.” embarrassment and dread filled him in equal measure as Rumi straightened up, falling into a combat stance, “So we’re going to spar. No weapons, no semblances. Just hand to hand.” a smirk was on her face, one that filled him with dread.
Rumi was strong, having focused on physical combat like Yang, though she focused more on leg work (which was why her legs and butt were so toned), but he knew that both of his girlfriends were not hand to hand focused.
But they didn’t look worried in the least.
~
Rumi Scarlatina was filled with a myriad of emotions. Happiness at seeing her younger cousin, Frustration at being the last to learn that he had not one, but two girlfriends...Jealousy, since she had staked her claim when they were younger and she was not going to let two floozies, one of them a Schnee, take what was hers!
But she knew enough from their builds that she was the superior hand to hand combatant, meaning she would win, and she could even drag it out a bit and throw them around some to ‘see that they were worthy’.
Was it right to do that? Probably not.
But it would make her feel better.
~
Weiss and Blake shared a glance, both immediately knowing that there was more to this than wanting to see their combat potential.
Say what you would, they knew jealousy when they saw it. Like how Coco had acted when she had found out that they were dating the sweet, big balled bunny.
Rumi was practically radiating the emotion.
But more than that, they noticed that she was packing a truly massive set of tits in that tight leotard of hers, her nipples prominent enough that they bulged against the front of the fabric.
Another lock of the eyes and they both smiled and nodded, a plan already in their minds as they took their own stances, prepared to show Velvet’s cousin the error of her ways, before their boyfriend’s eyes!
~
Velvet swallowed as he watched his cousin and his girlfriends stand across from each other, preparing to fight, and just hoping that he wouldn’t have to call the nurses due to injuries.
There was a tense moment, before all three leapt at one another. “HAAAAA-”
~
“-AAAAAAHHHHH~!” Rumi screamed, thrashing between the pin that she was held in by both Weiss and Blake. “YOU CHEATING SKANKS! FIGHT FAIR!” she howled, ears flopping as she bucked, attempting to unseat the pair who had torn her leotard, making her fat tits fall out and bounce wildly as both of them held her down.
She fumed, having not expected both of them to actually go for her clothes out of everything that they could grab.
And to make it worse, she hadn’t even managed to score a solid hit before being half stripped before her cousin and his girlfriends.
A giggle made one of her rabbit ears twitch, and glancing at them, her heart skipped a beat when she saw the leers on their face, making her wonder what was going through their minds…
...up until they licked their lips and lowered their heads towards her chest, making her eyes widen, her thrashing and bucking picking up strength and speed as she tried to free herself. “Don’t you fucking dare! I swear to the Gods, if you doooooOOOOOOOOO~!!!” Rumi’s attempted threat trailed off into a wail as mouths wrapped around her fat nipples, the pair not wasting any time and sucking hard on them, their tongues lapping and whirling over them, sending waves of pleasure through her, her hips bucking as she felt herself getting wetter and wetter, her face twisting as pleasure washed over her, feeling her pussy getting soaked, the amount of wetness shameful and turning the crotch of her leotard dark.
She threw her head back with a wail as she came hard, quivering on the ground between both Blake and Weiss, unable to do anything but let out the slutty noises as pleasure overwhelmed her, the powerful sucks to her tits threatening to turn her brain to mush by the end.
~
Velvet watched, his face a mass of red and his pants bulging outwards as his girlfriends sucked on the tits of his beautiful cousin, the white haired young woman’s hips bucking upwards, her thighs spread due to Weiss and Blake sitting on one of her thighs, forcing them apart and letting him see how dark her crotch was, seeing juices starting to slide down her thighs…
His nose twitched as a heady perfume reached him, one he recognized that was always around Rumi when they were at home, and it hit him like a truck that she was turned on around him.
His legs quivered even as his balls rumbled, the front of his pants bulging out a bit more as he reacted to this new information, his balls gurgling and churning as he watched his girlfriends sucking even harder on his cousin’s nipples.
A whimper spilled his mouth, lost underneath Rumi’s cries of pleasure, and he couldn’t take it anymore, his hands going to his belt and undoing it, pushing his pants and boxers down enough for his cock, clad in a ‘faunus strength’ condom, the tip already swelling as his precum filled it.
His hand went straight to his cock, beginning to stroke it as he watched, his breath heavy, his other hand moving down and rubbing his aching balls, seeing his cousin’s honey leaking down onto the floor beneath her.
A strangled growl spilled from his lips as he watched Weiss and Blake arch their asses up and shake them gently to add to the sight, even as they sucked harder on Rumi’s tits, like they were desperate for milk and Rumi’s tits were the only way to get it.
“Ahn!” Velvet gasped, his hips bucking into his hand as his cock erupted, thick ropes of cum spraying into the condom that he gripped hard. He held the swelling balloon tightly, knowing that if he lost his grip, not only would the clean up be hell, but both of his girlfriends would be upset at the lost cum.
He groaned, pumping out the whole load into the condom, panting heavily as he slowly pulled the latex off of his twitching cock, tying it so his cum wouldn’t escape.
Another scream of pleasure made his cock twitch, and he mindlessly reached for another condom, ripping the latex with his teeth and rolling it over his cock swiftly, stroking his cock again as Weiss hiked up her dress and Blake pushed down her shorts, revealing that they were commando, her hands reaching down and yanking the crotch of Rumi’s leotard to the side, revealing that she, too, was as daring as he had always imagined, soaking, drooling lips revealed to his eyes and pumping hand, even as she screamed and wailed from the pleasure of her tits being sucked.
Velvet didn’t know what was going to happen, but he also didn’t really care at the moment, either. All he knew was that this memory was going to fuel his spank bank for the foreseeable future!
...provided his girlfriends actually let that happen...
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giggly-squiggily · 3 months ago
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oh my god yessss your requests are open!!! how about lees chigiri and reo with ler kunigami? they're both being brats so kunigami teaches them a lesson🫢🙃 have a nice day/night! ❣️
{REQUESTS ARE CLOSED! This is an old ask}
Heyo anon! Oh my goodness, I love this so much! Any chance to write Ler!Kunigami is a good day- and my darling Chigiri! Reo and him deserve all the tickles and love! I've gotcha covered, anon!
Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):
@myreygn @cupcake-spice13 @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @riisada @ticklish-n-stuff
“Is he meditating?”
“I think so? Rare sight huh?”
“Very. We shouldn’t bother him.”
“...Why not?”
“Hmm. Good point.”
Kunigami tried to ignore their chirping, eyes closed and breathing deeply. It was late, and his favorite way to cool down after a long workout was some good ol’ deep breathing exercises. Normally he’d do them in the workout room right after, but Bachira and Isagi were there and he was starting to feel like a third wheel.
It was only after he got comfortable in the space between their beds that he remembered why he never meditated with Reo and Chigiri.
“....Ren.” Chigiri breathed out his name, poking him in the cheek. “Hello? Are you focused?”
“Kunigami~” Reo poked his other cheek, wiggling his finger. “Don’t lose focus~”
Clenching his jaw, he tried not to smile at their efforts, for he didn’t want to encourage them. He tried humming in hopes it’d tune them out. Alas…
“Gah! Careful!” He shivered as Chigiri dragged his fingers against the back of his neck, switching to tickling.
“Whoa, whoa, Hero- you’re meditating!” The redhead laughed as he did it again, enjoying the way his boyfriend shrugged up his shoulders in defense. “You can’t speak when you meditate!”
“Yeah! You can’t laugh either!!” Reo joined in the tickling, using one finger to get him behind the ears. “Do that humming again! Hummmmmmmmmm.”
“Hu-hhmhmhmhmhmhmmhm!” The hero tried to hum, but the tickling was far too much. With a giggle, he wriggled out of reach, twisting to glare at the giddy duo. “Knock it off!”
“Oo, he’s so mad now! We better run, Chi.” Reo clapped like a delighted seal, proud of his mischief. Chigiri merely rolled over onto his back like a lazy cat, stretching out with a yawn.
“Nah, I’m not scared of him. He’s a big softie under all those hard earned muscles.” He waggled his eyebrows at his boyfriend, earning a blush across Kunigami’s cheekbones. “What’s he gonna do?”
“Oh you wanna find out, huh- that’s it! Come here!” He went to grab at them, but they scattered, leaving him falling into a now empty bed. Seconds later, he was hit by sudden  weight from behind- two weights to be exact- as he crashed into the bottom bunk. “You utter bra-ahahahhats!”
“What was that, hero? You ought to speak up!” Chigiri cooed at him, kneading his sides with nimble fingers. “I can’t understand you through all your giggling!”
“Whatcha say? We’re brats huh?” Reo teased as he carried on tickling his neck, making the ginger scrunch his shoulders up to his ears. “Unforgivable! Apologize for your disrespect!”
“Ahhahahah! Nehehehehver! Yoohohohu twohooho ouhuhuhuhght to be ahhahapohohohologizing!!” Now a funny thing about Kunigami; he was ridiculously strong. So much so that 90% of his and Chigiri’s tickle fights where he’s on the losing end are intentional. Right now; he didn’t feel like giving them the victory.
He was gonna make them remember.
“THAHAHKE THIHIHIS!” With a powerful roar, the hero rised. Chigiri yelped when he was suddenly tossed off, pulled into the blankets below. He had just enough time to watch Kunigami pull him over before fingers in his sides made him jerk and squeal. “Nohohohohohoho, hehehehehhero!”
“What? How did you-” Reo wasn’t quick enough to escape either. Dragged down with the giggling redhead, he was pushed onto his stomach with a hand vibrating into his lower back. “Noohohohohohoho! Dohoohhon’t tihihihickle me thehehehehre!”
“Well well well, how the turntables..wait.” Kunigami grinned down at his victims, relishing their bursts of laughter as he clawed at their tickle spots. “Oh okay- how the turns have tabled! Let’s go with that!”
“Thahahaht’s nohohohot eheheheven the quohohohohote! Gehahahhha, Kuihuuhuhnigahahhami!” Reo cried, clawing at the sheets as he thrashed back and forth, properly stuck. “Cohohohome on, lehehehet me uhuhup!”
“Ahehahhaa! Gehahhhahaha, pleahahhahase! Spahahhahre me, hehehehehro!” Chigiri pleaded, curling up on his side when Kunigami switched to his stomach, making his cheeks flush as red as his hair. “Ihiihihih’m yohohohohohur bohohohoyfriehehehend!”
“So you are.” Kunigami mused, giving his hip a pinch and making the redhead spazz. “And yet, you still chose to mess with me! I don’t think I can forgive such acts that easily.”
“Iihihihi’ll kihihihiiss yohohoohu!” Chigiri pleaded. “Ttwhohohhooh kihihihiisses!”
“Hmmm, tempting.” Kunigami grinned, turning to Reo- the other boy halfway out of the bed. “What about you, Reo?” He tugged him back and onto his side, digging into his ribs and making him scream. “What are you offering?”
“Ahahahhan ihihihinvihihihitatiihihon to kihihihiss my ahhahaha-AHHAHHAHAAH!” Turns out Reo’s hips were way worse than Chigiri. Delighted by this discovery, Kunigami focused his efforts on that spot alone. “COHOHOHME OHOHOHON!”
“I’m not hearing the magic words~” He mock teased, watching the pair flail and laugh about. Between Chigiri’s mouse-like squeals and Reo’s cackling swears, he could listen to this all day long. “I know you two know it- say it and I’ll stop.”
“FIHIHIHINE FIHIHINE, I’M SHAHAHHARRY!” Chigiri pleaded as his knees got attacked next, finally giving in. He was released shortly after, curling into a ball at the end of the bed as Kunigami doubled his efforts onto Reo. “Ghahahah..gihihihive in, Reheheo!”
“Nehehehhehever! I ref-UUUHUHUHUHUSE!” A hand in his armpit had the purple haired teen backtracking immediately. “FIHIHIINE FIHIIHNE SHIIHIHIT YOHOOHOHU WIN! LEHHAHAHVE ME BEHEHEHE I’M SHAHAHARRY!”
“Good. See? Was that really difficult?” Kunigami did as promised, finally ending his devious tickle attack. He stood back with his hands on his hips, satisfied by the results of his little attack. “Now you two know what’ll happen if you mess with me again.”
“Eheheh..hehehee..sleehhehep with oohohne eye ohohopen…” Reo groaned out, glaring through his residue giggles. “I’hiihhl gehhehet you bahahack. We bohoth will! Right, Chigiri? Chigiri?”
When they turned to look at the suddenly quiet redhead, they found him passed out, snoring softly against the wrinkled sheets.
“He’s like a newborn puppy.” Reo almost wheezed, grinning at the sight. “One good ‘bout of excitement and he’s out like a light- dead asleep.”
“I’m kinda jealous. Maybe I’ll try it next time I can’t sleep.” Kunigami had to agree, sharing a soft smile with the other. “Come on- it’s late. Let’s head to bed before someone comes in hollering.”
. A few moves later, Chigiri was tucked away in his bed, face in the pillows and crimson hair scattered like a halo. “I’ll expect my kisses at some point, princess. Don’t you forget.”
“Ugh, you’re so sappy I’m gonna be sick.” Reo groaned from his own bed, laughing when a pillow hit his face. “Fine fine, I’m going to bed.”
Kunigami grinned at him before turning back to Chigiri, finding him looking back at him sleepily. “Oh, did we wake you?”
Instead of answering, Chigiri gestured him down. When he was close enough, he leaned in and kissed him gently.
“That’s one for tonight.” He told him, voice barely over a whisper. “ I’ll give you the other one tomorrow.” He closed his eyes soon after, falling back to sleep with a smile.
When he eventually returned to bed, Kunigami fell asleep to the sound of his still racing heartbeat, the taste of sugar on his lips keeping him smiling through the night.
Thanks for reading!
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theunholybastard · 3 months ago
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Kinktober: October 26th - Lingerie (Papa Emeritus III x Female!Reader)
Tags: Sub!Terzo, Dom!Reader, Lingerie, Feminization, Restraints, Degradation, Creampie, 1st Person POV
I thought he was joking at first. Who could blame me for thinking so? Every time I surprised him with a risque outfit or a piece of lingerie, strutting about and putting on a show for him, aside from being very turned on, he would always make the same quip. "It looks lovely on you, but where's my matching piece?"
I once laughed at the thought of him flaunting his ass in lacey panties and fishnets. But the more I put that thought into consideration... that might be something I would quite like to see. He had the most beautiful form I'd ever seen on a man, or anyone for that matter. Light muscles, curvaceous hips, and always smooth and freshly waxed all over his body. He was the perfect mixture of masculine and feminine. Though I never thought he would be particularly into dressing 'effeminate' in any context. I just thought he was just secure in his masculinity enough to make a couple jokes every now and then.
But when he did in fact surprise me with a set of lingerie in his size, I figured maybe it wasn't so much of a joke anymore. I was not complaining, absolutely not! I was however, curious and quite frankly aroused at the thought of seeing him like this, scandalous and barely covered by the small pieces of feminine fabric. I looked up at his face, a shit-eating grin and waggling eyebrows plastered across it. "Do you want to see me in this, amore?" Terzo questions, biting his lip. A small shudder escapes me as I quietly agree.
The sight was... something. Certainly not a bad one by any means, but a bit of a shock for sure. Sprawled out on the bed, hair falling perfectly in his face, and a black, lacey corset tight around his waist, paired with matching panties that showed off the outline of his hard cock, the tip poking out just a bit through the side. I did a double take when I saw the garter belt and stockings, with little bows on it to complete the look. "Do you like what you see?" He winks suggestively.
Lucifer, give me strength.
"Very much so." I admit, rubbing my thighs together in attempts to quell the arousal burning in my core. Fuck, his legs. His waist. His everything. I'd gnaw those damn garments off right now if I didn't have any self control. He smiles. "I would make a pretty woman, eh?" He quirks a brow.
"The prettiest." I gulp, a smile forming on my face, cheeks hot and flushed. Terzo could see my excitement from a mile away. "Well, can I be your woman tonight, tesoro mia?" He purrs, voice thick with lust as he spreads his legs, hands running up to tug at the fuzzy handcuffs still attached to the headboard, the ones he usually uses on me most nights. I know what he wants, but fuck, do I even have the strength to do it without losing my mind and my patience?
"Abso-fucking-lutely." I huff, so oddly horny right now. I composed myself just enough to approach him, tying him down as he wished, his arms fully bound. His cock twitched with anticipation in those tight fucking panties. I'm shredding those with my teeth the second I get the opportunity.
"Good whore." The words slip out before I could even think about it, like it was natural to me. Terzo greatly appreciates it, an involuntary moan pulled from his throat.
"I am your whore, amore. Y-yours to do what you want with." His voice quivers gently. In all my time knowing him, I know it's nearly impossible to get him flustered, yet here we are. "Y-yeah?" I gulp, slowly gaining more confidence the more wet I get, my underwear growing uncomfortably slick. "You want me to use you, princess? You want to make me cum on your pretty cock?" He shudders visibly.
"Please." He begs, his eyes wide and pupils blown out in crazed desperation. "I need to make you feel good, amore. Allow me the pleasure of satisfying you." How can I resist any longer? This is torture, for me and him, how can I bring myself to prolong it? It's just cruel not to hop on his dick at this point. And that I do, pulling down the panties just enough to get his cock out. Of course the panties have to stay on. Mine do too, but only because I'm too impatient to take the time to slide them off, moving them to the side instead.
My cunt is wet enough to where it slides in with ease, his hands already jerking to try and reach for me, to no avail. He groans in frustration, his own desire backfiring, seemingly forgetting that being restrained means, well, actually being restrained. The moment I start to rock back and forth, his mind focuses now on the pleasure, my pussy clenching around him almost as tight as his corset.
Speaking of the corset, my focus remained on that slutty little waist of his. His hands may be tied, but mine certainly aren't, and I use it to my advantage, touching everywhere I could, the feel of the delicate lace against my fingertips sending a shiver up my spine. Simultaneously, as I grind down on his length, I feel the head kissing my cervix, eliciting a sharp cry from me. The sensations were too much to handle, they always were with him. Even when he wasn't doing anything, he knew just how to make me scream.
"Oh, Terzo..." I moan his name, slamming my body hard and rough down on him. He has a big, fucked out grin on his face, as if he's wanted exactly this for the longest of times. "Y-you like this? You like being my bitch?" I growl through my teeth, bouncing faster. His eyes roll back, nodding profusely. "C'mon, use your words, princess. You're not that brain dead yet, are you?"
He lets out a borderline pornographic moan, arching his back off the bed. "Shit! I love it!" He screams. "T-this pussy feels so fucking good! I l-love being your whore, baby, I- I'm not sure how much longer I can last...!" He huffs, throat tight and voice strained as if he's nearly in tears. At his own desperation to cum, he bucked his hips upward, chasing the feel of my cunt. He was mindless at this point, his body taking over. "You'll make me cum first, slut. Be a good girl now." I spat, trying my best to regain control of the pace so I can find my high.
Soon enough, I did indeed find it, my orgasm approaching rapidly like a train, and I was tied to the tracks, helpless over what's about to happen. Terzo whines. "Please cum for me, amore. I can't hold it any longer. N-need to make you cum. Per favore..." He pants, brows furrowed painfully in concentration, the veins in his neck bulging. The cord in my stomach snaps, my orgasm washing over and finally running me down, shaking and screaming like I was a cheap Spirit Halloween animatronic.
He followed impossibly quick after, exhaling a breath of relief as he let go and released, his strained body then relaxing in the blink of an eye. Spurts of his cum shot inside me, flooding my pussy with his warm spend. His last thrusts were shallow, giving me every last drop he could possibly have left to give. When the intensity dissipated, I clambered off, my shaking fingers fiddling with the lock of the handcuffs, popping them off of his dainty wrists.
We took our time to regain our strength, breathing heavily while holding each other, no words needed to be spoken. His arms were wrapped around me snugly, the lace of his outfit tickling me, but I don't bother saying anything. "I'm getting old," He sighed. "I'm so tired..."
"I'm assuming you want to hold off on the shower then?" I giggle, snuggling into his clothed chest, nipples just barely peeking out. "And take off this outfit so soon? Yeah, I'll hold off..." He hums with a chuckle, eyes already fluttering shut. I shuffle, his cum leaking onto the sheets without a care. I suppose the shower and laundry will have to wait till the morning, but I am still going to have to wiggle out of his prying embrace to go pee sometime soon. Before he drifts off, I hear him make one more annoying, classic Terzo quip.
"Do you think I make a prettier woman than you?"
Slap.
"Ack! I was just kidding, tesoro!"
-
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bellaxgiornata · 2 years ago
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Falling For the Devil [Part twelve: "The Week You Tried to Avoid Matt"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
Summary: You're on your period for the first time in your relationship with Matt and you're uncomfortable being around him and don't want him to know.
Or
You drastically overthink Matt's heightened senses and try to repeatedly avoid seeing him for the entirety of your period week.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence
Word Count: 3.8k
a/n: Another fluffy and comedic installment here, might be the last one I manage to get transferred over from AO3 tonight. You can find all of the installments for this series that are currently on tumblr here!
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Monday
You held the paper up in your hands, your eyes glued to the headline reading "Entrepreneur Figueroa Arrested for Trafficking Women Through Hell's Kitchen." Your name was in the byline next to an image of a disgruntled Figureroa being seated into the back of a police car, his hands in cuffs behind his back. A small smile slid across your mouth.
A hand on your shoulder caused you to jump in surprise, your head turning to spot Katy beside you. She was grinning and eyeing today's issue of The Bulletin in your hands.
"Good job," she said. "You outed that asshole."
You were really wishing you could have thanked Matt as Daredevil for uncovering the incriminating evidence in the article. He was the one who had truly made this possible. But he refused to let you even so much as hint at his assistance in the article.
"You should go celebrate with your man tonight, if you know what I mean," Katy suggested, waggling her eyebrows at you. 
You rolled your eyes, setting the newspaper onto your desk. "You are way too invested in me sleeping with my boyfriend than is healthy," you pointed out. 
"Well I can't sleep with him," she said, scooping a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. "Someone needs to make sure he's being properly maintained."
" Katy ," you hissed, eyes darting around the office. 
"What?" she asked innocently.
"We're at work," you whispered harshly. "You can't be saying stuff like that."
"No one cares," she said with a shrug, pointing her spoon at Sabrina a few cubicles over. "She slept with some guy at a bar the other night. Told me the details about it over coffee this morning. And Michael," she continued, pointing her spoon at him as he worked on his computer, oblivious to Katy calling him out, "had a pretty eventful last Thursday night. Did you know that he–"
"Oh my God, please stop," you cut her off, holding up a hand and blushing. "We are not having sex tonight, I got my damn period yesterday morning."
And like hell if you were going to be anywhere near Matt this week while you were bleeding. With his heightened senses? No . He didn't need to be aware of…all of that. 
Though the thought of having to avoid him for a week every single month sounded awful and exhausting.
"You know," Katy said, pointing her yogurt spoon at you, "if you fuck in the shower there's not much mess."
" Katy !" you hissed again. 
"What?" she asked with a shrug. "Just giving you some friendly, womanly advice. Period sex is pretty great."
You threw a hand over your face, shaking your head as your cheeks burned. At least you had seen Matt Saturday night, just before you'd gotten cursed this week. And Matt had told you he was working late on a case tonight because he had court this week, so you didn't need to try too hard to avoid him today like you had yesterday. 
Small mercies.
Tuesday 
Setting your hair brush back onto your dresser, you frowned at yourself in the mirror. One hand reached down and tugged at the too-tight waistband of your dress pants. Period bloat fucking sucked. 
With a sigh you turned towards your bed, slipping on the blazer over your blouse, hoping it helped cover some of the water retention of your stomach. You frowned, glancing down at your abdomen that was twisting with uncomfortable cramps. If only you could stay home from work and curl up on your couch with a heating pad. Why weren't you allotted period days along with sick days?
The sound of your phone ringing on the dresser caught your attention. Heading towards it, you saw Matt's name across the screen. You groaned softly. Normally you loved seeing his name displayed across the screen of your phone whenever he called or texted, but right now you were overly aware of the tampon and thin pad you were wearing. 
"Hey, Matt," you answered the call hesitantly.
"Hey, sweetheart," Matt's cheerful voice came through the line. "I was actually up early this morning and was about to head out and pick up coffee before stopping past the office and heading to the courthouse. I was wondering if you'd like to meet up for a few minutes to grab coffee with me?" he asked, sounding hopeful. "I've missed you since Saturday."
His sweet admission had your heart sinking to your bedroom floor. Why were you cursed with a menstrual cycle and a handsome boyfriend who's sense of smell exceeded that of a German shepherd's?
"I uh, I actually woke up late," you lied, cringing but grateful he couldn't hear your heartbeat over the phone to tell you'd lied. It's not like he'd believe you had a dentist appointment after your first date. "I'm probably going to be sprinting to the office at this rate."
"Oh," he answered softly. "Okay, well, I'll probably be having another late night at the office for this case, but I still want to celebrate with you. For your article on Figueroa. Foggy and I pulled some strings with the DA to fast track his case."
"That's great!" you said. "I can't wait for that asshole to go to prison."
"Me too, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. "But I'll let you finish getting ready, I don't want to hold you up further. But I do want to celebrate with you this week," he reminded you. 
"Yeah, okay," you answered nervously. "Good luck in court today. Send my luck to Foggy and Karen, too."
"Thanks," he said. "I'll call you later tonight, okay? We can at least chat a bit."
"Sounds good, Matty," you replied.
You both hung up and you groaned loudly. Eyes dropping down to your abdomen, you frowned again. 
"So I'm real grateful you didn’t try to make a baby after the mind-blowing sex the other week," you muttered to your uterus, "but like, fuck you for real."
Wednesday 
Staring at your computer monitor, your eyes zeroed in on the half-finished sentence, drumming your fingers on your desk. You'd been struggling through figuring out how to word the article you were working on for the next issue of The Bulletin for the past hour. You needed a break. 
Eyes darting down to the corner of your monitor, you noticed it was about time for your lunch break. Maybe that would help. 
You sat back in your chair, sliding it back a bit from your desk and running your hands through your hair in frustration. Katy leaned back in the cubicle beside you. One of her hands rose to her head, making it into a gun and pretending to shoot herself in the head with it. You giggled, nodding in solidarity. She was apparently struggling on her piece, too.
Your phone began ringing on your desk, the noise catching your attention. Sliding your chair back into your little cubicle you were surprised to see Matt's name on the screen. He had court today, why was he calling?
"What's up, Matt?" you asked curiously when you answered. 
"Hey, so apparently we are breaking a bit early for a two hour lunch today," Matt said. "You want to join Foggy, Karen, and I for lunch at that diner near your office?"
You absolutely fucking did. That greasy grilled cheese and fries sounded really damn good right about now. 
But you were still on your period. Which in turn meant you were still trying to avoid Matt–and it was feeling shittier and shittier each time you did.
Closing your eyes and rubbing a hand over your forehead, you internally screamed. 
"Actually I'm pushing to get this article done before the deadline this evening. Struggling with writer's block," you told him, not entirely lying. Though lunch with all of them would have been a helpful and welcome distraction. 
"Okay, well would you like me to grab you something and bring it by?" he asked slowly. "I know how much you love their grilled cheese."
Damn this perfect, thoughtful man for being so perfect and thoughtful. 
“I already ordered something,” you blurted quickly, wincing as the lie left you. “A few minutes ago,” you added with a cringe. “Otherwise I’d have loved to take you up on the offer, Matty.”
He cleared his throat on the line and you frowned. Maybe you should just tell him why you were avoiding him this week? Though the thought of actually saying the words, “Hey, Matt, I’m on my period and bleeding from my lady parts this week, don’t want your bloodhound nose getting a whiff of my bloody tampon so I’ll see you next week” had you wanting to crawl under your desk and die.
“Alright…” he said, voice trailing off. “I guess I’ll…maybe see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, definitely,” you said in a rush. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
“Okay, I guess I’ll…talk to you tomorrow then, sweetheart,” he replied, his tone sounding a little unsure. “Good luck finishing your article.”
“Thanks, Matt,” you said. “Good luck finishing up that court case.”
After you both hung up, you screamed into your hands and then opened up your Door Dash app, ordering the grilled cheese you’d rather have sat down and eaten with your friends.
Thursday 
Sitting on your couch, legs crossed on the cushions, you shoveled the fettuccine noodles into your mouth. As a contestant on the episode of Nailed It that you were currently binging on Netflix revealed their cupcake, you lost it on the couch, snorting into your hand and trying not to choke on your mouthful of pasta. The warm bowl resting against your abdomen currently felt like heaven for the cramps that had continued throughout this torturous and terrible week.
You were hoping that by Saturday night your period would have tapered out enough that you could maybe risk seeing Matt. In a public setting. Maybe in an Indian restaurant where the strong and wonderful scent of curry might help mask the scent of period blood. 
So far today you’d yet to hear from Matt other than a few texts telling you their court case was finishing up soon, which had been about a little over an hour ago. You’d carried on making dinner despite the awkward feeling in your gut telling you that you were drastically messing things up.
As you scooped more noodles into your mouth, your phone began ringing on the coffee table. Your eyes immediately darted down to it and then they widened when you saw it was Karen calling you. Curiously, you reached over and grabbed your phone, quickly chewing the mouthful of noodles and pausing the show before answering.
“Hey Karen,” you greeted her cautiously, eyes narrowed and suspicious. 
She said your name excitedly in greeting, your suspicion only increasing.
“So we just got out of the courtroom and we won!” Karen exclaimed.
“That’s great!” you replied. “I know you’ve all been stressing over this case for the past couple of weeks.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “And we were all going to hit up Josie’s tonight to celebrate. And celebrate you and Daredevil getting Figueroa locked up.”
“Oh,” you answered softly.
“So you are avoiding Matt,” Karen stated flatly at your response. “What the hell is up with that?”
“What?” you countered quickly. “I’m–I’m not avoiding him.”
“Relax,” Karen said. “I’m at the office, Matt was finishing up something at the courthouse. I’m far enough away from his bat ears that he can’t eavesdrop on this call. I told him I’d invite you while he finished up with Foggy, but he seemed to think it was futile to try. You want to tell me why he’d say that?”
“I’m on my period,” you blurted.
There was a long silence over the line after your admission.
“Okay?” Karen asked. “And?”
“And that’s it,” you said. “I’m on my period. And Matt has his super senses so, you know, I’m avoiding him.”
“No,” Karen countered, “you have your anxious brain overthinking a situation that doesn’t need to be overthought. Do you plan to avoid him every month for an entire week?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” you admitted sheepishly.
Karen sighed, the sound long and drawn out. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had my period around Matt at the office? Or Marci when she’s been around him? Or, hell, I’m sure in the over a year you’ve been friends with him, you’ve had your period before.”
“Sure, true,” you agreed. “But now I’m dating him. Spending time alone with him.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Karen pointed out.
“Maybe,” you answered.
“So I take it you’re not going to come out tonight?” she asked. “Marci is even coming out.”
“Just…tell Matt I said congrats on the win,” you told her. “Tell him I wasn’t feeling great and went to bed early.”
Karen sighed again, the sound making your heart sink. “You know he’s been bummed all week not seeing you, right? He thinks he did something wrong.”
That hurt to hear.
“Tell him I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” you said softly.
After you’d hung up with Karen and resumed the show, you no longer found it as amusing as you had a few minutes ago. A sinking feeling felt like it was settling in your gut now, right next to the obnoxious cramps and uncomfortable bloat, as you lamely pushed the noodles around in your bowl.
Friday
Sprawled out on your couch, your legs thrown over the backrest as your hands held the heating pad to your abdomen, you zoned out to an episode of Gilmore Girls. You’d gotten back from a busy day at The Bulletin tonight and quickly changed out of your dress pants, feeling like your bloated stomach was going to explode if you remained in them any longer. You’d instead replaced them with a pair of unflattering but insanely comfortable sweatpants and an oversized tee-shirt before collapsing onto your couch. You figured you’d worry about dinner in a little bit.
This afternoon you had actually been busy with work, but you’d managed to talk to Matt for a bit during your lunch break. He didn’t push when you’d told him you were too busy to meet up and eat together, but he did seem oddly more cheerful than he had the past couple of days when you’d been blowing him off. And while you’d been happy about that, you were suspicious. But as the day had picked up, you’d been too busy to give it much thought, and by the time you’d gotten back home, you were just glad this week was finally over.
You were so comfortable and focused on the television that you at first didn’t realize someone was knocking on your apartment door. But a moment later someone knocked again and you nearly jumped out of your skin on the couch. Who would be at your door right now?
Hesitantly you paused the show, setting the remote onto the coffee table and reluctantly removing the heating pad from your aching, cramp-ridden body. Rising to your feet, you made your way to the door of your apartment, pausing long enough to glance through the peephole. The moment you saw Matt’s face covered by his dark glasses you jumped back, eyes going wide. There was absolutely no way to avoid him now. A moment later he called your name through the door and you internally cursed. He obviously would know you were standing right there.
Slowly you unlocked the door, sliding it open a bit and hiding halfway behind it, as if somehow that piece of wood would block his senses from your body.
“Hey, Matt,” you said nervously.
Immediately he raised a hand up towards you and you noticed the bag he was holding.
“I brought dinner,” Matt said with a smile. “Tacos from that Taco truck we both like.”
“Matt, I–”
“You’re on your period,” Matt cut you off, your eyes widening in absolute mortification. “Karen told me last night. Said that’s why you’ve been avoiding me and my super senses this week.”
“Oh my fucking God ,” you groaned, forehead slamming to the front door you were still clinging to. “What the hell happened to girl code?” you complained against the wood.
“Well considering I thought I’d done something wrong and ruined things with you,” Matt said, his tone softer than usual which caught your attention, “I’m glad she said something. I honestly thought that you were…thinking this whole thing was a mistake between us.”
“ What ?” you asked, jaw dropping.
He shrugged from his place still just outside of your apartment. “I have a tendency to destroy the good things in my life,” he answered quietly.
Your heart felt like it had fallen onto the floor. 
“Shit, no, Matt,” you said, pulling the door open all the way. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I was just…” your voice trailed off, trying to search for a reasonable explanation for the way your brain stupidly worked sometimes.
“Overthinking?” Matt supplied.
“Yeah,” you admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I was really shitty to you this week.”
“I mean it wasn’t great,” he said. “But I get it, knowing how you are and all. Though, sweetheart, you can always talk to me. About anything.”
You shot Matt a pointed look as you asked flatly, “I just spent most of the week avoiding you, do you honestly think I’d straight up tell you I was on my period?”
He cracked a little smile in response. “I suppose not, but for the future–and future periods–you can always talk to me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable and I certainly don’t want you avoiding me for a week again.”
Your gaze awkwardly dropped down to your feet, chewing the inside of your cheek nervously.
“You’re still uncomfortable aren’t you?” he asked. When you nodded he said your name softly before continuing. “I honestly don’t care. I’ve learned to ignore most bodily functions, they barely register with me unless something actually sounds off. You’ve had your period around me many times before–”
“Not helping,” you cut in.
“–and so have many other women,” he continued, grinning at your interruption. “It doesn’t bother me. At all. What does bother me is my girlfriend feeling like shit and not letting me help make her feel better. So…can I come in now?” He raised his other hand, your eyes darting down to the movement. “I brought you chocolate, too. Mint, because you’re insane and I know you like it so much.”
Throwing the door open wide, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your face into his dress shirt. Matt chuckled, awkwardly trying to hug you back with his hands full.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, pulling back and grabbing the items from his hands. “Come in, I’ll try to stop being an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” he said softly, closing and locking your apartment door behind himself and resting his cane against the wall. “But I hope you stop worrying about that now. Because I don’t want you to hibernate on me next month. Not unless I get to join in on the hibernation.”
You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as you set the bag of food onto your coffee table. “You’re too good to me, Matty,” you mumbled.
“Naw,” he said, shooting you a wink as he took his dark glasses off. “There’s no such thing when it comes to you.”
“You…want a beer?” you asked, blushing lightly as he made his way towards your couch.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he answered.
You headed into the kitchen, grabbing two beers from your fridge and opening them. When you turned and headed back to the living room, you paused, taking in the sight of Matt on your couch, pulling to-go containers out of the bag and setting them along the coffee table. His tie was a little undone and the sleeves on his white dress shirt were rolled up to his forearms as they usually were by the time he’d reached the end of the day. Eventually he stopped what he was doing, his gaze landing near you across the room as his head tilted to the side. A little smile spread on his mouth.
“What’re you doing?” he asked curiously.
Blushing further at being caught staring, you couldn’t fight back the smile curling your own lips upwards. “I like seeing you on my couch,” you admitted softly. “Like you belong here.”
His smile grew a bit more and you watched as he placed the container in his hand onto the coffee table before he moved it beside himself, patting the couch cushion lightly.
“And I think you belong next to me,” he said. “So come over here, sweetheart.”
You bit your lip, still smiling as you crossed the distance and sat down beside Matt. He accepted the beer you handed to him and swiftly held it up.
“To getting Figueroa arrested,” Matt said.
“Cheers to that,” you said, lightly tapping your bottle to Matt’s.
You took a drink before getting comfortable on the couch, reaching out and setting your beer on the coffee table. “Thank you for bringing me dinner, by the way,” you told him.
His shoulder bumped yours lightly. “I told you I was going to celebrate with you this week,” he said. “And after dinner, we can cuddle up on your couch with that heating pad. I can give you a backrub and you can continue watching your girly show where they talk way too fast, but I request that you narrate a bit. Because I enjoy listening to you narrate shows.”
You turned, eyeing Matt beside you as he opened one of the to-go containers. As he picked up a taco, your hand reached out and gently pinched his leg through his dress pants. Matt abruptly paused, the taco hovering in his hands above the coffee table as his gaze briefly dropped down to where you’d pinched him and then slowly shifted towards you. One of his brows raised as he fought back a smile.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“Just making sure you actually exist,” you told him. “Because I feel like my mind did an exceptional job making you up.”
Matt instantly cracked up, losing his composure. “Now that was a terrible line, sweetheart,” he teased. 
“Not a line,” you corrected him quickly, raising a finger. “A genuine fear. Pretty sure you’re just going to disappear one of these days into thin air. And I’ll just be like ‘yeah, I knew he was too good to be real’.” 
He leant over towards you, planting a kiss to your cheek. His mouth was beside your ear a moment later, his voice drawing goosebumps over your arms.
“I’m not planning to disappear on you, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I like you too much.”
Your heart may have slammed a little too hard into your chest at his words.
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astro-b-o-y-d · 11 months ago
Text
Triangulum - Chapter 2- Unsettling In
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— — — — — — —
“Dibs on being the first Pines inside the Shack!”
The old floorboards creaked lightly under Mabel’s weight as she bounded through the door, pausing only to drop her bags by the staircase before she continued on towards the living room. “Aww, I’ve missed this place!” 
She jumped from the small doorway step to the carpet, twirling on her toes like a ballerina before she gestured to the television set. “Hello, ancient TV that only plays local access channels~!” Her gesture moved to the large dinosaur skull in the middle of the room. “Hello, weird T-Rex skull that we use as a coffee table for some reason~!” 
She waggled her finger at the aquarium. “And hello, giant aquarium tank that only sometimes has an animal in it~!” she said with a giggle. “You can’t hide from me forever, Sir. Wiggleton the Pink!”
From the nearby couch where she had seated herself and Waddles, Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Sir. Wiggleton the Pink?”
“That’s what I call Stan’s axolotl,” Mabel explained matter-of-factly. “He’s very sneaky, and likes to hide a lot. I only got a good look at him, like, once last year!”
“Maybe he sneaks out when nobody’s looking?” Wendy suggested, then snapped her fingers with inspiration. “Ooh, what if he’s actually some kinda secret agent, one who goes out and fights bad guys? And that's why it's so hard for anyone to spot him in the tank, ‘cause he’s not always in the tank!”
“Yeah, yeah!” Mabel agreed enthusiastically. “Maybe he’s part of a whole secret organization of secret-agent animals! And they all wear funny little hats!”
While they laughed in unison over the idea, more creaking from the hallway floorboards drew their attention to the doorway. A moment later, Dipper’s body was propped against the frame for support, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he gulped down precious breaths of air. And between the desperate attempts to catch his breath, he shot Mabel a sour look. “You know, most people might call ‘tripping your brother as he tries to pass you in the driveway’ something along the lines of—oh, I dunno, maybe something along the lines of—cheating?”
Mabel’s mouth curled into a coy little smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dipping Sauce~!” she said innocently. “Not my fault you don’t know how to avoid branches while you’re running.”
“You literally stuck out your leg as I was trying to pass you!” Dipper argued. “And then after I fell, you laughed about it once you were sure I wasn’t actually hurt and was only just mildly inconvenienced!”
From her spot, Wendy let out a cackle. “You tripped him? Brutal.”
“It was a branch!” Mabel insisted. 
“A branch shaped like your leg!”
Mabel waved him away. “Oh, we can go on and on about things I did or didn’t do all we want—”
“You did do it.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered anyway!” Mabel continued, tossing her arms up in the air. “I still called dibs on being the first Pines to step inside, and you can’t go against dibs!”
“She has a point,” a voice spoke up behind Dipper, seconds before Ford stepped into the room. “The International Dibs Protocol is highly respected across countless dimensions, with millions of interdimensional beings valuing the weight it holds when it comes to ownership over specific affairs.”
He pressed a hand to his chin. “I believe at one point, there was even talk amongst the council members here in town about passing a law that would make adhering to said protocol mandatory. But the idea was scrapped before the House could ever lay an eye on it.”
“Yeesh, so this town’s just fine and dandy with people marryin’ woodpeckers or deciding ownership of a place based on whatever chump’s got the deed in their hands,” Stan called from out on the porch. “But you call dibs on something and suddenly that’s going too far—hey, hey! Knock it off, Soos, I’m not gonna look!”
He cast a miffed look to his right, where Soos had firmly remained throughout their entire walk up the driveway. His arms were spread out as wide as he could possibly get them, and he had even crab-walked up the porch beside Stan in an attempt to block something from his line of sight. 
“Sorry, Mr. Pines,” he said, keeping his arms outstretched until both of them were safely inside the house. ”But I can’t risk you seeing anything on the other side of this building until I give everyone the tour later!”
Stan let out a gruff sigh as they joined everyone else in the living room. “Yeah, yeah, like I’m in any rush to jump right back into work stuff after a nine-month vacation.”
Soos gave him a pitiful look. “Wh-you mean you’re not excited for the tour of all the new exhibits and stuff?”
“...I said ‘right back into’, didn’t I?” Stan pointed out. “Gimme an hour, we’ll see where I’m at then.”
He shuffled over to the couch, then paused with a look to Wendy. “They got all the rats outta this thing while we were gone, right?”
“Completely rat free,” she assured him, moving her hand to Waddles’ head for scritches. “Although you’re never gonna guess what happened after we chased the last of them out of the shack—”
“Well, that sounds like six voices,” a voice called from the kitchen, seconds before a woman peeked her head through the doorway. “Pretty sure that’s everyone, unless we’re also expecting the girls.”
“Negative,” Wendy replied, as Stan settled down next to her. “Mr. Pines put down a hard no on any sleepovers tonight. Well, any sleepovers with the under-fourteens, at least.”
“Dipper also put down a hard no,” Dipper added. “Also hey, Melody!”
“Melody! Hi!” 
Mabel’s features lit up as Melody stepped out into the living room proper, and both twins rushed over to greet her further with a hug. “Hey, you guys!” she said, bending down to reciprocate. “Been a while, huh?”
“Sure has!” Dipper said with a hearty laugh.
“It’s so nice to see you again!” Mabel added with equal amounts of enthusiasm. “How’ve you been?”
 “I also think it’s nice to see you again!”
Before Melody could answer, all three suddenly found themselves lifted up from the ground. “I know we were only gone for, like, fifteen minutes or so,” Soos said, hugging all of them close to him. “But still, that’s enough time to miss someone, right?”
Despite most of her face being squished against his own, Melody smiled up at him.  “Well, fifteen minutes is about the same amount of time it takes to complete Ladybug on Dancey-Pants Revolution—” She paused and wriggled an arm free to tick off her fingers. “—what, five times? Five and a half? Just saying, that feels like an eternity when you’re trying to hit a perfect combo, doesn’t it?”
“That is so true,” Soos said with a nod. “You have such a way with words, babe.”
A squeak of delight drew their attention to the teenagers smushed between their bodies. “Hehe, you guys are adorable!” Mabel piped up. “And nerdy!”
“Also you’re kind of squishing us,” Dipper added with a wheeze.
With an apologetic smile, Soos lowered the group back down to the floor. “Sorry, dudes! Got so caught up in giving Melody a hug, that I kinda missed you were there.”
“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” Mabel assured him as she straightened out her clothes. “Being squished like that made me feel like the ham and cheese in a lovey-dovey sandwich!”
She gave a nudge to her brother’s arm with her elbow. “Guess that makes Dipper the lettuce and tomatoes!”
“What? Why am I the vegetables?” Dipper asked.
Mabel shrugged with a smile. “Because even if they’re not the most exciting ingredients, it just doesn’t feel like a proper sandwich without them,” she explained, pressing her hands together as if she were forming a sandwich herself. “But you gotta put ‘em between the meat and cheese, otherwise their veggie juices get mixed in with the condiments. Then bread gets all soggy and fall-apart-y and the sandwich is just inedible at that point.”
“Okay first of all, rude and gross. Second of all, that is a very weird analogy which explains nothing.” A pause as he pressed a hand to his stomach. “Although weirdly enough, it is making me hungry.”
“Good thing I got a head start on dinner before everyone got here,” Melody said. “In fact, I just checked the timer and there’s only a few minutes left before I need to pull it out of the oven—oh, by the way, lasagna from a box is fine with everyone, right?”
She directed her question both to the kids and to the group that had gathered by the couch, earning her a nod from Ford. “Fine with me. Meals that require minimal effort to prepare have sustained me since my college years, and I see no issue with continuing that trend now.”
“Long as there’s no fish involved, I’ll eat anything,” Stan assured her.
Wendy, who had distracted herself with scritching the spot between Waddles’ ears, looked to him. “Got sick of seafood out there on the open ocean, Mr. Pines?”
“Got sick of badly-prepared seafood.” 
Stan shot a pointed look to his brother. “Apparently somebody can rip out the spine of a zombified fishman from the ‘Walking Bullhead Dimension’—” 
“We’re gonna start this again, Stanley?” Ford interrupted, giving him an flat-but-amused look that implied they had discussed this topic countless times before.
“—but you give the guy a regular tuna to debone, and suddenly it’s all ‘Oh, this is ~soooo~ hard!’” Stan continued in a jestful tone. “‘I’m gonna make my twin brother nearly choke on a rib bone! Or two. Or five.’”
“Their spinal cords are more delicate than what I’m used to handling,” Ford insisted. “The anatomy of an anthropomorphic fish person—oh, uh, make some room?”
“Huh? Oh, right.” Stan made a gesture with his hand for Wendy to move. “Hey, scooch over and put the pig on the floor so we can all sit down.”
“I can take him off your hands now, Wendy,” Mabel said, holding her arms open. “Although he’ll probably end up on the floor anyway; I know he’s been dying to root around in the carpet for burrito bite crumbs again!”
While Wendy readjusted and passed Waddles back to his owner, Ford seated himself comfortably next to Stan. “As I was saying,” he continued. “The anatomy of an anthropomorphic fish person resembles our own more than that of a non-anthropomorphized fish from our dimension. This size increase in bone structure makes it far easier to get a grip on their spinal column and just—” He made a tearing motion with his hands. “—rip it straight from the body—”
He paused and looked to the younger twins. “Only when such drastic measures are necessary to take, of course. Had the dimension been populated by living anthropomorphized fish people, I would not have resorted to ripping out anyone’s spines.”
Stan lightly bumped his knuckles against Ford’s arm. “Heh, sounds like a buncha fancy-schmancy excuses from a guy who never learned how to properly work a pair of fish tweezers,” he said, making small, pinching motions with his fingers. “What’s wrong, Poindexter? Thought you were used to usin’ delicate sciencey tools out in the field with your dainty little sciencey grip.”
“Nothing about my science or my grip has been dainty in over thirty years, and I think you know that.”
“Yeah, tell that to the octopus babe you tried to hook up with off the coast of Australia! When’d she leave again, less than half-an-hour into the date?”
While Ford responded with his own playful fist to the arm—one that Stan cackled loudly at in return—Mabel knelt to the carpet and set Waddles at her side. “Aww, it’s nice to see you two getting along so well now!” she said sweetly. “Does that mean no more fighting? I mean, actual fighty-fighting and not play fighting?”
“Psh, please, let’s not go that far,” Stan replied, with a wave of his hand. “Of course we’re gonna fight, we’re siblings. Or are you forgetting how you tripped your brother out there in the driveway?”
“It was a bra~anch!” Mabel insisted in a singsong tone.
Dipper gave her a flat look. “Still gonna go with that excuse, huh?”
“Yeah-huh~! Also it’s not an excuse.”
With a wink to them, Stan snaked an arm around his brother’s shoulder. “But if anyone’s worried about a repeat of last year’s performance, don’t be!” he assured them. “Nine months of punching sea monsters and nabbing treasure from sirens have made us thick as thieves, just like old times!”
“While Stanley’s claims are a touch exaggerated, he’s not wrong,” Ford replied. “Despite our petty bickering over fish preparation, there’s nothing quite like spending months out on the open seas with someone to remind you of what’s really important in life. Sailing around the world on the adventure of a lifetime—”
He cast a small smile in his brother’s direction. “—well, it puts a lot of things in perspective.”
With a faux look of disgust, Stan pushed him away. “Ugh, why’d you have to go and make what I said all sappy? What, you wanna make the kids blow chunks on their first day back?”
While the kids giggled at this response, Ford nudged him in retaliation again. “Well, if you’re going to be like that, we could always go back to our petty fish arguments,” he said with a smug look. “You’ve harped on my inability to properly debone a fish, yet you act as if you didn’t completely butcher the deboning of those seatrout we caught along the coast of Florida.”
“Hey, hey, I plead the Florida loophole!” Stan insisted. “Which clearly states that if anything funky happens within the Florida boundaries, it was caused by the fact that we were near Florida.”
He folded his arms firmly across his chest. “Just sayin', can’t be blamed for anything when we’re sailin’ through territory that could give this town a run for its money in weirdness.”
“Oh, you two were down in Florida?” Melody piped up. “That’s exactly where Abuelita headed a few days ago!”
“She won a free trip in a bingo game,” Soos explained with a look of pride. “Man, you should’ve seen how jealous Agnes and Bertha got when she held up her winning card—”
The ringing of a timer from the kitchen turned everyone’s heads to the doorway. “Oh, sounds like the food’s done,” Melody said. “Better go ahead and start plating.”
“Need an extra hand?” Soos asked.
“Mmm, I think I can manage slicing up lasagna by myself,” she assured him, before casting another look at the group. “Besides, I know how excited you were for everybody to get here, and I wouldn’t dream of pulling you away from everything just to help me slop some food on a plate.”
Soos moved his hands to her shoulders with a solemn expression. “I love you. So much.”
With a chuckle, she leaned up to kiss his cheek before turning back to the kitchen. Once she disappeared out of sight, Soos let out a warm sigh. “Isn’t she the best?” he asked to no one in particular.
Stan turned to Wendy with a raised eyebrow. “So them bein’ all lovey-dovey with each other,” he said. “Is that a rare thing or am I gonna have to actually start stockin’ up on eyeball bleach for the summer?”
“Told you to keep it in mind earlier,” Wendy said, hand on her hip. “Also, you call that ‘lovey-dovey’? Kisses and random compliments for the other when they’re not even in the room barely crack a three or four on the Soos-Melody Romance scale.”
She tilted her head in thought. “Though I guess it’s been more about quantity than quality lately. Can’t go five minutes without one of them trying to smother the other person in affection because of…reasons.”
She raised a finger to her mouth before casting a look over at Soos, who smiled and pressed a finger to his own mouth in return. Leaving the Pines family to watch them with raised eyebrows and tilted heads. “Well, that’s certainly not cryptic or anything,” Ford said.
“Yeah, what’re you two hiding?” Dipper asked. 
“C’mon, spill the beans!” Mabel added, with a quick glance around the living room before she followed up with: “...If there were any opened cans of beans lying around, you know I’d poke ‘em over for dramatic effect!”
“Hehe, that’d be so funny,” Soos said amusedly. “It’d be like…a callback or something! But sorry, dudes, no beans of any kind can be spilled at the moment. Whether it’s beans of the secret variety, or just the ones in a can.”
“Why not?” Mabel asked.
“I mean, I think we ran out of them yesterday so you can’t spill what—”
“The secret part, Soos,” Dipper clarified.
“Oh, that!” Soos pressed a hand to the back of his neck with a tender look. “Well, it’s kind of a big deal, y’know? And I wanna wait until Mel and I can tell you together.”
“Yeesh, this secret of yours must be big big,” Stan said with a loose chuckle. “What, are the two of you getting married or some…thing—”
The mild amusement in his tone faded as the punchline he was waiting for never seemed to come, while the giddiness in Soos’ expression only seemed to blossom further. His cheeks had brightened to a light shade of red and he’d pressed hand over his mouth as he tried—and failed—to hide the smile that was quickly taking over his entire face.
Wendy also slapped a hand over her mouth to hide her smile—her entire upper half trembling as if she were holding back the biggest laugh of her life—while a deafening silence of realization overtook the rest of the Pines family.
“Alright, who wants the first two plates?”
It was Melody who finally broke the silence, having returned to the doorway with a paper plate of lasagna in each hand. “Again, I would’ve prepared something better for a welcome-back dinner, but with Abuelita out of town and the party tomorrow—”
“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED!”
Mabel’s words were punctuated by an ear-piercing scream—one that earned slapped hands to the ears of everyone except for Melody and Soos—and she flung herself around the neck of the latter to hug him tightly. “You guys are getting married! I can’t believe it!”
Dipper hurried to join in the hugging of Soos with a hearty laugh. “Congratulations, Soos! I’m so happy for you guys!”
“Can I be the flower girl?” Mabel prattled on. “Can Waddles be the ring bearer?!”
“What?! Why Waddles?” Dipper asked, then looked to Soos hopefully. “Can I be the ring bearer?!”
Melody stared at the sight with a look of mild confusion, to which Soos shrugged apologetically. “Sorry, babe,” he said meekly, and slung an arm around both of them. “Guess my poker face needed a little work.”
She chuckled in response, and went to set the plates down on the t-rex skull. “Well, I guess that’s one way to spill the beans.”
“YEAH! I spilled the beans!” Mabel said delightedly, pumping a fist in the air. “The metaphorical beans!”
“I mean, technically Stan was the one to spill them,” Wendy said, flashing Stan a grin. “You should’ve seen the look on your face, dude, it was priceless!”
This earned her a pair of narrowed eyes from Stan. “Hey, hey, what’s with you and the jokes today? You should be a little more respectful to the guy who used to sign your paychecks.”
“Mmm, are you going to be signing my paychecks again now that you’re back?”
Stan opened his mouth to respond, before the implication behind her reply snapped his attention right back to Soos and Melody. “Woah, woah, hold on, go back a sec—you’re telling me that you two are actually tyin’ the knot?”
Melody held out her hand, an engagement ring with a beautiful, purple gemstone resting comfortably on her finger. “End of the summer’s our set date,” she confirmed. “Oh, not the end end of summer; Soos told me that the kids’ birthday was the last day of August, and he didn’t want to take the spotlight away from their special day with our special day.”
“Aww, what? Booo!” Mabel protested as she hopped down from Soos’ arms. “Come on, we can share the day with you guys! Right, Dip?”
“Yeah!” Dipper agreed. “If there’s anything that’ll make our birthday better, it’ll be sharing it with your wedding day!”
Soos pressed a hand to each of their heads with a warm smile. “Aww, man, now I kinda wish we did!” he said, with a hopeful look to Melody. “You don’t think we could—”
“Normally I’d say yes in a heartbeat,” Melody said. “But we’ve already booked the photography, and you know how they are about rescheduling at the last second.”
“But don’t you guys have three months?” Dipper pointed out.
“To a wedding photographer, rescheduling earlier than five months counts as last minute,” Melody explained. “Especially if your set date’s in the summertime; they’re usually pretty swamped from June to the middle of September.”
“You shoulda gone for a Vegas wedding,” Stan said. “You get in, get out in an hour tops and all you need is a witness.”
He crossed his arms with a scowl. “And I guess you’ll need a safe for your valuables, in case the broad’s only marryin’ you for your winnings and plans on running off with ‘em in the middle of the night. …On second thought, don’t get married in Vegas.”
“Well, thankfully I don’t have any plans to go running off with any of Soos’s valuables, so there’s nothing to worry about there,” Melody said, taking a look around the room. “Besides, I’m pretty sure the majority of his valuables are sitting right in this very room, and I don’t think I could carry most of you.”
This earned her a chorus of ‘aww’s from the kids and Soos, and a retching gag from Stan. “Yeesh, forget the eye bleach thing, I’m gonna need something to scrub out my ears with after hearing that.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Wendy said, rising to her feet. “You still want some help with the food, Mel? I’ll do it just so Mr. Pines has an excuse to stop complaining about all the mushy stuff.”
Melody pressed a hand to her mouth to try and stifle back another laugh. “Sounds like a plan,” she said, and gestured for Wendy to follow.
While Wendy hurried after her—Stan glowering at her until she was out of his line of sight—the kids continued to swarm Soos with questions. “So where are you guys holding the wedding?” Mabel asked, hands folded together. “Ooh, lemme guess! Uh, uh—the arcade? No, that’s not romantic enough. Hoo-Ha Owl’s Pizzamatronic Jamboree? Since it’s where you had your first date?”
“Here at the Mystery Shack?” Dipper guessed. “Or, you know, a regular church?”
Soos pointed at him. “Ding ding ding, Dipper got it! Or, uh, he was right with the first guess.” He tossed his hands in the air. “We’re gonna have it here at the Mystery Shack! We’re gonna make some space outside, maybe put the alter over in that spot by the totem pole—it’s gonna look so good!”
“Well, I know I’m happy for both of you,” Ford spoke up from his spot on the couch. “I mean, I might not know either of you very well. But from the little I’ve seen of you two together, this is clearly a big deal and I’m honored that we get to share this opportunity with you.”
Soos turned to him with a surprised, yet touched expression. “Wh—aww, thanks, Dr. Pines,” he said, placing a hand on his heart. “That actually means a lot, coming from you.”
Ford blinked in confusion. “It…does?”
“Well…yeah,” Soos said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, I know you didn’t plan for this place to become the Mystery Shack when you built it. But because it became that, I was able to meet Mr. Pines, and then Dipper and Mabel—” He began to tick off his fingers. “—and they were able to help me learn how to get a date, which led me to meeting Melody at the mall—”
He paused, looking to his hand. “Hey, should I count the whole ‘killer video game girlfriend’ thing in there somewhere, or was that more just a…thing that happened and isn’t really connected to all of this?”
“Definitely more of a side thing,” Mabel said. “Like, it happened, but I think connecting it back to the shack is a bit of a stretch.”
“The very weird point they’re to make is that none of this would’ve happened without you building the shack to begin with, Grunkle Ford,” Dipper said with a smile in his direction. “So in a way, a lot of this is because of you!”
“This wouldn’t be possible without help from our friend here!”
Ford’s smile vanished, nails gripping the arm of the couch tighter than he’d intended as the shrill, high-pitched sound of Bill’s voice echoed through his mind. Cruel tauntings mixed with the vicious laughter of his surrounding henchman, all while he struggled desperately against the invisible binds that held him in the air.
Invisible binds so similar to the ones Bill had used to restrain him all those years ago, back when he had refused to continue his work on the portal. For a fleeting, horrific moment, Ford could practically feel that old, familiar sense of his bones slowly, so slowly being pulled from their sockets as darkness flooded his vision. The faint click of Bill's fingers as he flipped an imaginary switch over his threats—far more menacing than taunting—of erasing whatever memories he could get his hands on if he didn't comply—
“Grunkle Ford, is everything alright?”
Mabel’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, a expression of worry painted across her features. Not only hers, but Dipper was giving him a mildly concerned look as well.
Ford let out a slow exhale of air through his nose to steady himself. Outside of his nightmares, he had managed to keep a lid on most of his Bill-related memories for the past nine months whenever they managed to snake their way to the front of his mind. Bill was gone, there was no sense in letting that part of his past haunt him. Bad memories were just that—bad memories. There was no need to dwell on them any longer, especially not now. 
“I’m fine,” he reassured the rest of the group with a smile. “I was just about to say that I don’t know if I would go that far with the compliments. I mean, Stanley’s the one who put all the time and effort into making this place what it is today, isn’t he?”
He looked to his right, an identical pair of eyes meeting his own as the older Pines twins stared at each other in silence.
While he and Stan had only been reunited for less than a year, falling back into the habit of picking up on Stan’s mannerisms had almost been second instinct for Ford. Despite the forty year gap between their teenhood and the present, so much of the way that Stan presented himself hadn’t changed in the slightest.
So naturally, Ford had also picked back up the ability to distinguish when Stan was hiding his displeasure with a situation.
It didn’t happen often; Stan had always been the kind of person to openly and fervently vocalize his complaints at the slightest inconvenience. A behavioral habit he had possessed since they were young boys—such a thought sent an uncomfortable wave of nostalgia rippling through Ford’s chest—and one that had clearly stayed with him throughout the years—more uncomfortable waves in his chest of a different sort.
So whenever Stan made the choice to to keep his grievances to himself, it usually meant there was more bubbling under the surface. More than he was willing to let anyone see.
And the way that his features had shifted, jaw clenched and a rigid look behind his eyes that was easy to miss if you blinked—
“Yeah, the heck am I? Chopped liver?”
Before Ford could think to question Stan, he’d already turned back to the group with an affronted look. “Or are you knuckleheads forgettin’ who even started this whole business to begin with?”
This sent a wave of laughs through the trio. “Of course we didn’t, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel assured him. “We’d never forget about you!”
“Of course not!” Dipper added with a laugh.
“Not for a second!” Soos added. “In fact, I was actually about to ask you—”
“More plates coming through~!”
Melody and Wendy reentered the living room, a plate in each of their hands. “Alright, dorks, come and get these before I eat them,” Wendy joked, passing both plates in her hands to the younger twins.
“And one for you,” Melody said, handing one of hers to Soos with another kiss on the cheek.
This got a small hum of delight from Soos, which was accompanied by another eye roll from Stan as he leaned forward to take one of the plates off the skull table. “Eugh, on second thought, I don’t want any sorta credit for this mush fest,” he said, bringing it to his lap. “In fact, unless you got more happy news to tell us, I’m turnin’ my attention to this mush fest instead.”
To emphasize his pun, he brought the back of his fork down onto the lasagna with an audible squishing sound, before shoving a large bite into his mouth. “‘Sides, the sooner we eat, the sooner we get to see Soos’s big, fancy shack tour, right?”
His point seemed to encourage the kids to dig into their own plates as well, although not without bombarding the happy couple with more wedding-related questions. Wendy, in the meanwhile, had realized that she was the only person left without any food and headed back to the kitchen to fetch herself a plate of her own.
Leaving the remaining plate on the dinosaur skull—one growing colder by the minute—for Ford to take.
He leaned forward to pull it to his lap as well, unable to resist giving Stan a glance out of the corner of his eye as he did. Stan’s expression had returned to a more relaxed look as he dug into his food, any previous signs of distress now nothing more than a memory.
Settling back into place with his plate, Ford turned his attention back to the group—specifically Dipper and Mabel as they laughed along with whatever Soos was telling them through a mouthful of lasagna. 
None of them had expressed any further concern for Stan’s behavior after it had happened, and the three of them had spent far more time with Stan than he had in the past thirty years. Sure, the two of them had spent the past nine months together out at sea, but the kids had gotten to know him over the course of the previous summer. And Soos had practically spent all of his childhood and young-adulthood around him.
If they had failed to noticed anything was wrong with him, did that mean that Ford had misinterpreted his reaction completely? If one of Stan’s closest employees and family members—people who had been around Stan for far longer than he had in the past few decades—hadn’t noticed anything wrong with him, then maybe there was actually nothing to notice at all?
“Ho-ho! Looks like Mr. Brainiac finally got smart!”
…Then again, he did have experience in not picking up on the obvious.
His grip on the fork tightened as he stabbed it into the remaining lasagna on his plate, letting out another slow exhale in the process. It was like Stan had said earlier at the bus stop. If the two of them showed any signs of stress regarding the events of the previous summer, then it was sure to stress out the kids as well.
He raised the fork to his mouth. And it was like he had said; It was a new summer. A chance for everyone to start over, and for them to start over together.
“We don’t have to do anything alone ever again, right?”
“We don’t have to do anything alone. Not now, not ever again.”
If there was anything truly wrong with Stan, he would say something. They could talk things out, find a solution together.
As he bit down on the lasagna, however, he couldn’t stop his gaze from uncertainly shifting back to his brother.
—right?
— — — — — — — — 
“Remind us again why we’re wearin’ blindfolds?” Stan asked.
“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Mabel piped up, and reached her hands out in front of her to blindly grasp at the air. “Are you going to make Grunkle Stan drive us somewhere with his blindfold on?”
“I strongly advise against anything of the sort,” Ford said quickly. 
“Nah, I’m pretty sure Soos just wants us to be surprised by all the new stuff he’s added to the shack,” Dipper pointed out, and looked towards where he had heard Soos’s voice. “Isn’t that right, Soos? …I think I’m looking at you, I can’t actually tell.”
“You got it, dude!” Soos said, giving him a thumbs up before adding as an afterthought: “By the way, you can’t see it but I gave you a thumbs up!”
Dipper gave him a thumbs up in return, while Stan folded his arms across his chest. “Yeesh, with how much you’re hyping this thing up, it better end with a boatload of cash.” He said, flipping his thumb in the direction of the parked car and boat situated a short distance from the group. “And don’t think I don’t know how much a boatload is, we got the Stan-O’-War 2 parked right over there for reference.” A pause. “I’m pretty sure it’s over there, at least.”
“It is,” Soos assured him. “Alright, is everyone ready?”
Dipper gave a nod. “We’re ready, Soos!”
“Yeah, knock us dead, Mr. Mystery!” Mabel added encouragingly.
After a quick glance down at the stack of flashcards in his hands, Soos looked back to the waiting Pines with a big smile. “Greetings, ladies, gentlemen, and other assorted tourists,” he began in a rehearsed tone. “First of all, the Mystery Shack family would like to offer you a hearty welcome to the town of Gravity Falls, Oregon—”
He winked at them. “Or I guess I should really say welcome back to the town of Gravity Falls, Oregon! …‘Cause, like, you all came back to the town after leaving—”
Stan pressed a hand to his forehead. “You’re really gonna give us the entire pitch first, huh?”
From off to the side where her and Wendy were situated, Melody perked up at his remark. “He’s been waiting ages to show it to you,” she called to them. “He barely got any sleep last night out of excitement!”
“I kept opening my eyes and hoping it was finally morning,” Soos admitted with a bashful smile.
“Besides, aren’t you the one who’s always saying that buttering up the chumps that come through here is a good way to get them to toss more money at us?” Wendy added. “Why do you care if he gives you the entire pitch first?”
“Hey, never said I didn’t approve of it,” Stan clarified. “I especially like the part where he refers to the staff as a family.”
He gave a theatrical wave of his hands. “Paints a mental picture in those chumps’ minds. A picture that says ‘Hey! The people at this place must be really close if they’re callin’ themselves a family! And if they’re a family, they must have a bunch of hungry kids to feed! Let’s toss all the money in our wallets at them…for the children!’”
“Probably helps that you actually made us dress up like ‘the abnormally hungry twins’ for an exhibit last year.” Dipper cast a flat look towards Stan, then to verbally emphasize his point: “Which I will not be doing again this year.”
Stan waved him away with a scoff. “‘Course not; those extra inches on your height won’t make you pass as anything more than a starving teenager. And people aren’t as taken in by teenagers in need as they are kids.”
“An unfortunate fact, but a true one,” Wendy chimed in again. “Now shh, Soos worked really hard on this speech!”
“Thanks, Wendy,” Soos said. “But I don’t mind any interruptions, especially not from Mr. Pines! If there’s anything my online forums taught me, it’s that running a business is like writing a fanfiction: healthy criticism informs me of the areas I can improve on, and makes me feel good about the areas I’m already doing well in!”
He tapped his chin. “There’s also a lot of overlap between the two when it comes to people who want to learn about how to romance a werewolf,” he mused with a chuckle. “Turns out the secret is just buying a lot of beef jerky, they go nuts for the stuff—”
“Keep it on track, Soos,” Stan interrupted with a roll of his hand.
“Gravity Falls, Oregon,” Soos continued. “A mysterious and strange town, full of mysterious and strange beings. Whether they’re human, animal, vegetable, mineral, something in between or something else entirely, the one thing they all have in common is that they call this town home.”
He tossed an arm in the air to gesture at the building behind him. “And lucky for you, our totally awesome family here at the Mystery Shack is happy to help bridge the gap between the mysterious and the…not-mysterious—”
He made a so-so motion with his hand. “This part’s a little rough, but we’re working on smoothing it out. I know there’s a good M-word that would fit there, I just can’t remember off the top of my head.”
Ford pressed a hand to his mouth, before he spoke up with a suggested: “Mundane?”
Soos’s features brightened with inspiration and he shot a finger gun in Ford’s direction. “Boom! That’s the one!” he said, fetching a pencil from his pocket. “Thanks, Dr. Pines! …By the way, I shot you a finger gun. If you don’t know what that is—‘cause of all the time away from our dimension—I can tell you! It’s when you take your finger and—”
“No need to explain, Soos,” Ford assured him. “The concept speaks for itself.”
While Soos scribbled a few edits onto his flashcard, Melody raised a hand from her spot. “Sorry to interrupt your speech, Soos, but I just want to make sure I’m getting things right now that everyone’s here.” 
She pointed a finger at the Stans, shifting it back and forth between them. “Mr. Pines is the founder of the Mystery Shack and Dr. Pines is the one who actually owns it, right?” she asked with a shrug. “Or—well, I know that technically we own it since we have the deed to the building, that’s such a weird law for this town to have—”
“You have no idea,” Stan added.
“—but you get what I mean, right? Dr. Pines is the name on the deed?”
“I gotcha, and you’re right!” Soos clarified. “Mr. Pines founded the mystery shack and Dr. Pines is the one on the deed.”
He turned to face her completely. “If it helps, you could try remembering it like this: Mr. for mystery and Dr. for deed to the shack!”
Melody considered this for a moment. “Oh, that does help, actually. It’s like a stalactite/stalagmite kind of thing.”
“You could also just call them Stan and Ford,” Mabel added. “Ooh, or Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford like we do!”
“I mean, technically they aren’t her great-uncles,” Dipper pointed out. “So that wouldn’t really make sense.”
With a tut, Mabel placed her hands on her hips. “Please, the title of Grunkle is less about being a great-uncle, and more of a state of mind.”
“...Yeah, the state of mind where you’re a great-uncle,” Dipper said pointedly. “Hence the combination of the two words.”
“You can call us whatever you please,” Ford spoke up. “Clearly there are plenty of options to choose from, and all are accurate to some degree.”
He pressed a hand to his chin. “Although I will admit that it’s been a long time since anyone has referred to me as Dr. Pines. It was far more common for people to call me that for the first few years after I finished college.”
“You know what, I’ll experiment with a few different names, see what sticks,” Melody said, then turned her attention back to Soos. “Sorry, babe, didn’t mean to interrupt. Go ahead and keep going.”
“Never hurts to double check,” Soos assured her. “Plus since the two of them are part of the Shack’s history, it doubles as a tour question! Ooh, we should write that into the speech, too—”
There was another pause as he scribbled something down on his flashcards. “See, that’s another reason I wanted to show you guys the tour as soon as possible,” he said to the Pines. “I’m adding so much that’s gonna knock the next group of tourists that hears it on their butts! Okay, let’s see, where was I—”
“Mysterious and mundane,” Dipper reminded him helpfully.
“Thanks, dude! As I was saying before, we here at the Mystery Shack are happy to help bridge the gap between the mysterious and the mundane—”
He playfully waggled a finger in Ford’s direction, before tossing his free hand in the air. “And hopefully after today’s tour, you’ll all be able to walk across that bridge alongside us! Welcome to the Mystery Shack!”
He squinted down at his flashcards again. “Is…is that good for a welcoming statement?” he asked. “Did I do a good job? Do you feel invested to learn more about what awaits in this fine establishment?”
“Oh, I know if I had a wallet full of money, I’d be tossing fistfuls at you right now,” Mabel said supportively, and dug a hand into the pocket of her skirt. “Ooh, wait, I might have some glitter I can toss instead—”
After blindly feeling around for a moment, she pulled her hand out with a with a disappointed look. “Aw, nope, false alarm,” she said, opening her palm to reveal a squished, blue blob. “Just my wad of that sticky stuff teachers use to hang up posters that I stole over the school year~!”
She dropped it in her pocket again and gave the side a pat. “Just gonna tuck that back where it belongs~!”
“And I’m always ready to learn more,” Dipper added. “So you don’t need to do much to convince me!”
“Sounds like a yes to me, Mr. Mystery,” Melody said. “We good to move on to the next part of this tour?”
“You know it!” Soos said, before looking back to the Pines. “Okay so that part of the speech would normally be followed up with me leading everyone over to the exhibits area and showing all of them off.” 
His gaze moved to the Stans. “But I know you wanted a quiet evening without tourists or sleepovers or parties—”
“We did,” Stan confirmed.
“I didn’t,” Mabel argued with a pout. “I’ll bet Candy and Grenda would’ve had so much fun on the tour!”
“Oh, they’ve taken it many times!” Soos assured her. “They’re practically honorary employees at this point, and sometimes they even help with the new exhibits!”
At this information, Mabel’s pout was immediately replaced with a cutesy smile and she squished her hands to her cheeks. “Aww, of course they do! Can we see some of the ones they helped with?”
“Well, uh—like I was saying, we knew Mr. Pines wanted at least one evening before all the loud stuff,” Soos said. “So we ended tours early for the day and sent everyone from the exhibits home.”
The Pines exchanged a series of confused, blindfolded looks, before Dipper vocalized their confusion with an: “Everyone?”
Soos looked to Melody and Wendy, who nodded in unison. “We sent everyone home,” he continued to the Pines. “But we still wanted to give you all a taste of the kind of tours we’d normally give on a regular basis! So Melody had the brilliant idea to leave out the empty displays and do a fake tour before cleanup!”
He gestured for them to follow. “If you really want to know more, you’re gonna have to come look for yourselves~! And to look for yourselves, you’re gonna have to follow me!”
“Refusing to explain further until we take the tour for ourselves?” Stan gave a proud nod. “Good, good, you’re reelin’ us in…”
“Uh, Soos?” Dipper said, and pointed to his blindfold. “How can we follow you if you can’t see?”
Soos froze, and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Oh, duh, forgot about that!” he said, and thought for a moment. “Uh…just carefully follow the sound of my voice and footsteps?”
He began to walk backwards, making wide gesturing motions with his hands as they blindly followed him. “Alright, dudes, just keep walking forward—oop, careful of that crack in the ground, Dipper! Okay, just a little further—”
“Still don’t understand why we can’t just take the blindfolds off,” Stan said, taking a few bold steps forward—
—and letting out a grunt of pain as he stepped on a small rock. “Also, since when did Soos know to call you Dr. Pines?” he asked, kicking the rock to the side. “Don’t remember you ever tellin’ him to do that.”
He directed the last remark at Ford, who was carefully toeing the dirt in front of him before taking a step. “Well, I did mention my college years back when I first stepped out of the portal,” he reminded Stan. “Perhaps he took that fact and came to the conclusion that using the Dr. prefix would be appropriate, given my numerous PhDs.”
Stan’s expression shifted for a moment. “Oh yeah, that did happen, didn’t it,” he said, before shaking his head. “Yeah, given your whole science guy thing, I’ll bet he woulda called you Dr. Pines even if you didn’t have the credentials for it.”
“I would’ve!” Soos confirmed helpfully.
“Ooh, Mabel just had a fun idea!” Mabel piped up, and pressed her hands together. “What if we called you Dr. Grunkle Ford?”
She smiled cutely in Ford’s direction, despite being unable to see him. “I’ll bet one of those PhDs is from mastering the study of Great-Uncle-ing, isn’t it? Hmm~?”
“Well, if we’re getting into the specifics,” Ford began. “The field of studies I majored in were biology, archaeology—dabbled in Hyper-Advanced Engineering and Fifth-Dimensional Calculus for three semesters, deeply regret trading the rest for an extra semester of Applied Quantum Phase Theory—”
He paused. “Oh, that was a joke, wasn’t it?”
Mabel let out a giggle. “The PhD part was, the Dr. Grunkle Ford part was not. That was also not a ‘no’ so I’m gonna tuck that away for later.”
She made a motion to grab something out of the air, and pretended to drop it into her pocket. “And just ‘cause you can’t see it, I grabbed the nickname out of the air and dropped it into my pocket,” she explained, patting her skirt. “It’s resting right next to my blob of sticky poster stuff as we speak.”
“Hey, Soos, are we able to take off our blindfolds yet?” Dipper asked.
“Just a little further ahead—ooh, okay, stop, stop!”
Soos came to a stop himself, smile wider than ever. “Alright, esteemed guests! You may now remove your blindfolds and behold the wonders the Shack has to offer! …Or, at least, get an idea of what the Shack has to offer when we’re not closed!”
Four pairs of hands met cloth as the Pines reached up to lower their blindfolds and take in the sight before them.
The area situated between the shack and the edge of the woods was reminiscent of a carnival after all the guests had gone home for the day—the grass a tamped-down mess of discarded pamphlets and trash, and a wide selection of empty displays surrounded them on all sides. To their left stood a tall aquarium that stretched around ten by ten square feet, filled nearly to the brim with placid water. Further ahead was a lengthy presentation stage, littered in the remains of unidentifiable objects made of wood, stone—anything that looked like it would’ve been a challenge for a regular human to destroy. Ahead of that was an artificial recreation of a magical forest glenn, one perfect for a unicorn to kneel before in a graceful and elegant fashion.
A series of perches for winged creatures both big and small. A small pet bed the perfect size for a plaidypus. A collection of scattered Pitt Cola cans near a skateboarding ramp covered in massive, yeti-like footprints and tire tracks. Empty display after empty display surrounded the Pines family as they looked around, each a clear indicator of what beings would normally occupy them during business hours.
And if the sight wasn’t enough, Soos was happy to confirm it as he lead them forward: “Now, this is our Main Exhibit Area,” he said, and gestured around himself. “Any live beings for these attractions would normally be gathered here for their demonstrations—”
“Live beings?” Dipper asked with a hopeful sparkle in his eyes. “As in we’ve started including actual, real monsters and creatures and stuff?”
“You know it, dude!” Soos said.
Mabel smooshed her face against the side of the large, glass tank, pupils darting back and forth while questions spilled out of her mouth at breakneck speed: “Is this a mermaid tank? How many mermaids are here? What are they like? …Are any of them Mermando?”
“Reminder that you’re in a relationship,” Dipper said.
Mabel pulled her face back with an audible pop, before giving her brother a pointed stare. “I wasn’t asking so I could date him again! It’d just be nice to catch up with an old friend!” 
She moved a hand to her forehead, rubbing the spot where skin had met glass. “Besides, you act like Dev wouldn’t be cool with being in a polyamorous relationship with a mermaid.”
“...You know, that is probably something he’d be cool with.”
“Soos said he had a feeling you’d like the mermaid tank,” Melody said, coming up beside them. “And Wendy had a feeling that you’d love to see me jump into it.”
Mabel stared up at her, eyes wide. “I would love nothing more.”
“Called that one,” Wendy said with a smug grin.
Using the ladder near them, Melody climbed up and onto the wooden platform on top of the tank, pausing only for a moment to fiddle with something in the very center. After a few seconds, she lifted the half she was not kneeling on upwards and held it still for the group to see.
Rather than being made completely out of wood like the other half, the ‘lid’ was made up of sturdy, steel bars with gaps between them. Like the bars of a jail cell, if the rest of the jail cell had been laid on its back and made of glass. “We like to close and lock the lid between mermaid demonstrations,” she explained to the Pines family. “Keeps any bold tourists from trying to climb inside.”
“You lock your mermaids up?” Mabel asked, hands pressed to her mouth in horror.
“Wha—oh, no, don’t worry!” Melody quickly assured her. “We only lock it up once Mitch is outside of it and in his portable tank—hey, Soos, Wendy, can you guys—”
“Oh, yeah, one sec.”
Both Soos and Wendy hurried over to the opposite end of the tank and held out their arms, as if preparing to catch something out of the air. Once they were in place, Melody arched the lid up and over towards the side where they stood. While it quickly swung downwards at the two of them, they stood firm as they caught it in their arms, before gently guiding it to rest against the side of the tank.
Looking pleased, Melody turned her attention back to the kids. “Alright, I’m not even gonna try to do a proper mermaid dive into this thing because there’s a good chance I might break my neck,” she said. “So are we fine with a cannonball instead?”
“Cannonball! Cannonball!” Dipper and Mabel chanted in unison.
“Cannonball!” Soos added with just as much enthusiasm.
“Sounds like a yes to me!” Melody said, and took a small step back from the gap. “Get your cameras ready!”
Mabel held up her cell phone with a bright smile, before taking a cautious step back from the tank. “For safety measures,” she explained. “Don’t want what happened to Dipper’s phone to happen to mine~!”
“There was a chicken in science class, caught on fire and set off the sprinklers…” He shrugged in mild annoyance. “I had to get a new phone, it was a whole thing—”
“Shshshsh,” Mabel said, taking one hand off her phone to wave him quiet. “We can exchange cool stories after the tour! Cannonball time!”
“Oh, right—go for it, Melody!”
And with that confirmation, Melody took a deep breath jumped up and over the open side of the tank, folding her body into a cannonball shaped before she sank down into the water. Water that splashed up and out, soaking the grass around the tank and the toes of anyone who hadn’t followed Mabel’s example and backed up to safety.
While Melody breached the surface and swam to the tank’s side, Soos looked back down to his flashcards. “As you can imagine, normally a trick like this would be done by our hired merteen, Mitch,” he explained. “He would do a few tricks, explain a few of the basics of being a merperson, and then answer a few questions from the audience about being a mermaid and stuff.”
Melody propped her folded arms over the side of the tank. “And since I’m not an actual mermaid, I can’t really answer any real mermaid questions,” she said. “Or, at least, not as well as someone who’s been one their entire lives. But if anyone’s got any about how the exhibit works in other ways—”
“And Mabel’s hand is already in the air.”
Dipper flicked a thumb towards his sister, who was waving her arm about so frantically that it was a miracle that it didn’t go flying right off her body. Melody smiled and gestured to her with a damp hand. “Go ahead, Mabel.”
“Because I didn’t get any answers before, I repeat my questions from earlier,” Mabel said. “How many mermaids are here? What are they like?”
She turned her nose up at Dipper. “And would there happen to be an old friend of mine by the name of Mermando among them?” she asked. “One I am not interested in dating again, but one I would like to say hello to, despite what a certain someone might think—”
“Laying it on a little thick, aren’t we?” Dipper asked.
“Ehhh, we only got the one merman and I doubt you’d be interested in dating him,” Wendy answered. “He’s kinda dull, one of those beach-dude types who’s overly obsessed with surfing and sun…”
She flicked a thumb towards the skating ramp. ”Gets along pretty well with the Abominable Bro-men who hang out at the halfpipe, though.”
“Speaking of which, he headed down to the California coast for the summer,” Soos said. “Apparently he’s got a lot of family down there—”
“Makes sense,” Dipper said with a nod.
“Totally tracks,” Mabel added.
“—which means that the only mermaid exhibit you’ll get to see for the next three months is Melody’s,” Soos continued. “Unless another one applies for a job soon, that is. ‘Course we’ll still need to check their resume, confirm their resources are legitimate—”
“Which could happen,” Melody said, as she pulled herself up onto the edge of the tank. “I’ve got a couple of interviews lined up.”
She looked towards the older Pines twins. “What about you two? Got any mermaid questions for me?”
“I’m afraid any questions I might still have about mermaids would only be able to be answered by actual mermaids,” Ford said, and looked towards the rest of the displays. “And I assume the same applies to the rest of the exhibits.”
He cast them both a smile. “But I’m in full support of this method of showcasing them! I mean, using the supernatural beings of Gravity Falls as willing exhibits, and providing a chance for everyone to grow accustomed to each other in a neutral setting?” 
He tossed his hands in the air. “All with education lessons about each creature added to the mix? Quite the scientific approach to this sort of thing, color me very impressed!”
“Well, we kinda have you to thank for the idea, Dr. Pines,” Melody said. “You and the kids, of course.”
Once again, Ford found himself bewildered by the sudden praise and he tilted his head with a curious look. “Care to explain?”
“See, I spent sooooo much time with Dipper and Mabel last year,” Soos explained. “And they spent sooooo much of their time doing lots of cool, mystery stuff! Whether it was fighting some big monster or just trying to find out more about the super-mysterious author guy who wrote the journal that Dipper found in the woods—”
He once again pointed at Ford with a playful grin, before continuing: “—we learned about a lotta weird dudes! And with the town coming together and everything after Weirdmageddon, that meant a lotta those weird dudes were walking around in broad daylight. Which meant a lotta tourists started seeing those weird dudes walking around in broad daylight!”
“And as most tourists do, plenty had questions about them,” Melody continued from the water tank. “So with the Shack being one of the most popular locations in town, some talk was thrown around about us providing a space for those beings to answer their questions!”
“It probably helps that a lot of those weird dudes hid in the Mystery Shack during Weirdmageddon,” Wendy added. “So you know, didn’t take a lot of convincing to get them involved, since they kinda consider it a safe haven now.”
“That’s so cool!” Dipper piped up excitedly.
“It’s brilliant,” Ford agreed. “During my years of research, I spent so long studying all the strange and mysterious beings of this town. How they came to exist, how they functioned—”
He placed a hand to the side of the tank. “Not just them but the weirdness that surrounded the town as a whole. Why all of it was so drawn to this tiny, Oregon town out of anywhere else in the world—”
“Imagine it, Sixer—a whole dimension of weirdness! One where the strangest and most bizarre beings the Multiverse has to offer call home! All waiting for someone as brilliant as you to pop on over and show the world what they—and you—can do!”
“You really think so?”
“Buddy, I know so! This is the way genius happens! …With a little help from a friend, of course!”
The hand against the glass curled into a fist as Bill’s voice once again pounded through his skull, the memories of their ‘research’ together gripping his insides like a vice. All those years of hard work for naught, all that wasted time being fed promises from the honey-dipped spoon of a liar, the bitter truth hidden from sight until it was too late to spit it back out—
He slowly unclenched his hand with a shuddery exhale. Deep breath, just relax. Everything was fine. “—well, this whole setup is making me reminisce on more nostalgic times,” he finished with a forced smile in Soos’s direction. “That’s all.”
If Soos had caught on to his half-truth, he didn’t show any sign of it in his own expression. Rather, his own smile simply widened further as he looked to Stan. “What about you, Mr. Pines?”
Ford couldn’t help but look to his brother as well, and his eyes once again met a matching pair as the two of them stared at each other in another shared silence.
The rigidity in Stan’s features from before had returned. Far less prominent than it had been back in the house, but the way his jaw was set, the cold, studious gaze behind worn lenses—
“All I wanna know is how much this kinda stuff’s costing the two of you.” 
And quick as a flash, Stan had turned back to the rest of the group, arms folded across his chest and any sense of tension in his features nonexistent. “Don’t get me wrong; I think usin’ all the ghouls and goblins of this town to get more money outta tourists is a great idea—”
“You mean like what I suggested last year?” Dipper pointed out.
“Last year I was still playin’ dumb about all of that, in the hopes it would keep you kids outta trouble,” Stan reminded him. “Think we can safely say that ship has sailed by now. Besides, I ain’t the big man in charge anymore, so whatever changes you make to the shop are up to you and you alone.” 
He directed the back half of his sentence at Soos and Melody as he turned to face them again. “But you know me; always lookin’ at the side of business with the dollar signs. And I just wanna know if you’re turnin’ more of a profit than what you’re spendin’.”
Ford’s gaze continued to linger on his brother for a moment more, before he turned to them as well. “Stanley raises a good point. While I clearly support the desire and motivation to help others approach the supernatural beings of the Falls with a more respectful and scientific mindset—well, as Stanley put it so eloquently, such methods aren’t exactly cheap.”
“Oh, that’s nothing to worry about,” Melody assured them. “If anything, the Shack is making more money than it ever did before!”
“Oh yeah!” Soos agreed. “Even taking into account all of the paychecks we give out—of course we pay anyone who’s part of an exhibit—”
“They’re employees after all,” Melody chimed in with a nod.
“—even taking all that into account, we’re doing really well!” Soos finished, tossing his hands into the air. “In fact, the Shack is more popular than it’s ever been before!”
Ford glanced back at Stan, scanning his features for any other signs of distress. However, Stan only seemed to perk up further at Soos’ comment, even going so far as to clasp a proud arm around his shoulder. “Well, then I have no complaints whatsoever! Show me another one of these magnificent, moneymaking—uh, m—uh…whatever, just show me another one.”
“Sounds like my cue,” Wendy said, and turned to the younger twins. “Who wants to see me break something over at the Manotaur stage?”
This time, Dipper and Mabel’s hand shot up in unison, and Wendy laughed as she lead them over towards the empty presentation stage. Much like back at the bus stop, the adults found themselves left behind as Soos helped a sopping-wet Melody back down the ladder and into the grass. 
“Well, the tour might not be how we usually do things, but at least they seem to be having fun,” she said, and reached up to wring out some of the water in her hair. “Plus getting a chance to jump into a tank of water on a hot summer evening’s probably the opposite of a problem.”
“You cannonball like no other,” Soos said, tone full of sincerity before he looked to the older twins. “So you’re really enjoying the tour so far, Mr. Pines? I know you probably won’t get a proper feel of the new exhibits until you’re able to take a real tour, and I know this is a huge change from how you used to do things—”
“Like I said, it’s makin’ this place more money than ever so I’ve got zero complaints,” Stan said with a shrug. “Your methods are smart, keepin’ up with what the people want like any good business should…”
His features shifted to something that almost resembled genuine pride, if one looked closely enough. “You’re…you’re doin’ good, Soos. Really.”
A single touch could’ve shattered Soos like glass, eyes swelling with tears of pure joy. “Thank you so much, Mr. Pines!” he said, and finally gave in to the urge he was probably holding since the moment the Stans arrived and scooped Stan up into a hug. “You’ve no idea how much this means to me!”
Any pride in Stan’s expression vanished in place of annoyance at being scooped, and he struggled fruitlessly against Soos’ embrace. “Alright, alright, save the huggy stuff for your fiance over there,” he insisted firmly. “Besides, didn’t Wendy say she wanted to show us another exhibit or whatever?”
“Oh, right!” Soos said, and looked to Melody. “Want me to hug-carry you over to the stage?”
“Soos, I’m soaking wet.”
“Then we’ll both be soaking wet!”
Recognizing a good point when she heard it, Melody shrugged and hopped into his arms and the two of them fell into a shared fit of laughter as Soos lead them both towards the Manotaur stage. 
Leaving the Stans as the remaining two near the mermaid tank. 
“Can you believe this?” Stan asked, with a light flick to the glass. “A mermaid exhibit with a living, breathing merman? And one not made out of random animal parts?”
“They really seem to have tapped into a brilliant method of showcasing the exhibits here,” Ford agreed, turning his attention to the glass as well. With Melody no longer inside, the water inside was slowly settling back to a calm and undisturbed state. “You really picked the right man to take up the reigns in your absence.”
“Yeah, I…I really did, huh?”
That heavy silence from before began to envelop the brothers again, nearly impossible to ignore by this point. Not even the whooping and hollering from the stage—apparently Wendy had started her demonstration without them—was enough to distract Ford from his growing suspicions that Stanley was hiding something.
With the way he kept looking at Ford, features set with that rigid expression that clearly obscured his actual feelings beneath, he was either hiding something or he needed to say something without the others nearby.
Well, they had a moment alone now. Best to do the straightforward thing and just ask directly. “Stanley, is everything alright?”
Stan snapped his attention from the tank to Ford so quickly that it was a miracle he didn’t pull something, and for a moment he did seem like he had something he needed to say—
—before his expression settled back into something more neutral as he leaned back against the glass. “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
It was an odd thing. With the many years of conning people under his belt, Ford had expected his brother to be far better at lying right to his face. “Are you sure?” he tried again, and leaned back against the glass as well. “You know you can talk to me, Stanley. It’s like you said before: we don’t have to deal with things by ourselves anymore. So, if you need to talk about anything, anything at all…”
This earned a small chuckle from Stan. “Throwin’ my own words back at me, huh? Cheap shot.”
He hesitated to reply for a moment, before giving him a halfhearted shrug. “I dunno, it’s nothin’,” he said. “I think I’m just having a hard time getting back into the swing of things now that we’re back in town. Just a lotta new stuff to get used to, stuff that wasn’t here last year…”
He cast Ford a smirk. “Guess you could say I’m having trouble gettin’ my land legs, instead of my sea legs,” he said, leaning over to nudge him with his elbow. “You—you get it? My land legs—”
Dodging the subject with a joke, and an incredibly cheesy one at that. A classic Stanley move to avoid talking about something he didn’t want to, one that only cemented Ford’s concerns further.
However, his first remark brought a thoughtful hand to Ford’s chin. “There have been quite a few changes in our absence,” he agreed. “It would make sense that it would be difficult for you to readjust, especially in regards to the shack.”
He cast a look towards the shack itself. “I mean, you were in charge of this place for what, thirty years? That’s about five times the number of years I lived here,” he said. “Not to mention Soos and Melody’s whole announcement, I can imagine that would be quite the surprise for you—”
“Only surprise there is that there’s apparently someone on this planet more nerdy than Soos,” Stan interrupted quickly, and crossed his arms. “What about you? How’re you holdin’ up?”
Ford stared at him, perplexed. “Me?”
“To quote the words you stole from me to then throw back at me; we don’t have to deal with things by ourselves anymore,” Stan said. “So do you have anything you wanna talk about?”
“Heads up!”
A shout from the stage sprung the brothers into action, and both jumped out of the way just in time to avoid a porcelain vase whizzing past at breakneck speed, right before crashing straight into the side of the cabin and shattering on impact.
“Sorry, guys!” Wendy called from atop the stage. “Think I put a little too much oomph into that swing!”
“I think you put just the right amount of oomph into it!” Mabel said from beside her, grin bright. 
“It was incredible!” Dipper agreed. “Can you do it again?”
“I dunno,” Wendy said, tapping the end of the bat against her boot. “The destruction of valuable properly really gets both the Manotaurs and the audience all riled up, so they tend to keep the going until there’s nothing left to destroy.”
She moved the end of the bat was moved to a discarded plank of wood near her feet, gently nudging it towards the edge of the stage. “And judging by today’s damage, it’s a miracle that one vase remained unscathed as long as it did.”
“Aw, boo,” Mabel said. “I wanna see more mindless violence!”
“Sadly that’s all I got for the big lugs for now,” Wendy said, letting the bat clatter to the stage. “You squirts know all about their deal already, so random trivia is kinda out of the question. I mean, I could always do the thing where they let someone from the audience challenge them in a fight, but ehh, I’ve already gotta clean up the displays on my day off—”
“Didn’t you choose to come to work anyway?” Mabel pointed out.
“—so I’m just gonna pass the baton to Soos,” Wendy continued, tossing a hand in Soos’ direction. “How about it, Soos? You’re the only one who hasn’t shown off one of the exhibits yet, it’s only fair you get a turn before we move on to the Big Stuff inside.”
“You make a good point!” Soos agreed with a nod, and glanced around at the remaining exhibits for a moment in thought. “Who wants to watch me try and do a kickflip over at the Abominable Bro-Men’s halfpipe?”
“Me! Me!” Dipper piped up enthusiastically. “You are absolutely going to fall and break your neck, so I’m in!”
Beaming, Soos turned back to the direction of the mermaid tank. “What about you, Dr. and Mr. Pines?” he called. “You wanna join us?”
The sudden vase attack had pulled both from their conversation long enough to grow distracted by the kids’ antics on the stage. At Soos’ call, however, the two of them exchanged a look with each other. “Like I was askin’ before,” Stan tried again. “Are you okay? You got anything you need to talk about?”
It was said in such a knowing tone, as if Stan could physically see the triangle-shaped echos that were permanently etched against the inside of Ford’s mind. As if he were just waiting for Ford to offer him the chance to swing another fist at them again.
But while swinging a fist at Bill had worked the first time around, Stan couldn’t exactly swing a fist at the nightmares that had plagued Ford’s head for as long as he could remember. And even if he could—
“I’m fine, Stanley,” he finally insisted aloud. “Really, I am. Perhaps it’s as you said, and it’s taking me more time to readjust to being back in town than I’d initially expected.”
He flashed Stan a weak smile, one that his brother hesitated to return for a few seconds. But eventually, the corners of Stan’s mouth curled upwards into a amused smile of his own. “Pretty sure my exact words were ‘having trouble gettin’ my land legs’,” he pointed out, clasping a hand on Ford’s shoulder. “Was a pretty good one, if I do say so myself.”
“Stanley, you realize that ‘getting your land legs’ is about as common of a phrase as ‘getting your sea legs’,” Ford pointed out.
“Nah, I’m pretty sure I made that one up,” Stan said, and plopping an arm across his brother’s shoulders. “Now come on, let’s go watch Soos break his neck or whatever he’s gonna do.”
“Personally, I’m not a fan of Abominable Bro-Men,” Ford admitted. “But with all this talk of neck-breaking, I think there should be at least one person there who knows how to reset a bone.”
“Oh, so you’re an expert with human bones—”
While the adults followed Soos towards the half-pipe, Mabel let out a disappointed noise. “Aww man, I wanted a chance to try and fight Wendy!”
“Eh, we’ve got all summer,” Wendy reminded her. “Besides, you’re telling me you’d miss a chance to watch Soos fall flat on his face?”
With a giggle, Mabel shoved her hands in her pockets. “Now I never said that—oh, wait—” 
She shuffled her hands around for a moment, before pulling them back out and peering into her pocket with an annoyed look. “Aww, dang it, I think my wad of sticky poster stuff fell out of my pocket somewhere.”
“Eugh, that probably means it’s all covered in dirt or something now,” Dipper said with a grimace. “Probably best to cut your losses and start a new one when school picks back up again.”
“Are you kidding?” Mabel protested, gaze now shifting around their feet. “I barely managed to collect as much as I did before the teachers started catching wind of my thievery!”
Taking care to avoid any of the broken debris, she dropped to her knees and pressed her face against the stage for closer examination. “By the time fall hits, they’ll probably have security guards around every single one of those cheesy pun posters that relate to each class’s specific subject! I’ll never be able to get the new one back to the size of the original!”
Dipper placed a hand on his hip. “You realize that this is a very weird and specific problem that only you could have,” he said, then paused. “You want me to help you look?”
“Nah, nah, you go ahead and watch Soos. Just snap me some pics with my phone.”
Without taking her eyes off the stage, she held out her cell phone to him. “Feel free to add whatever filters you want, I’m partial to the kitty-ears myself.”
“Of course you are.” 
While he hopped down from the stage and headed towards the half-pipe, Mabel continued to search on her hands and knees for the telltale blob. When the stage itself produced no results, she moved to retrace her steps from the stage to the mermaid tank, to the area where she was pretty sure she’d pulled the lump out of her pocket—Soos making them walk around blindfolded had been delightfully quirky at the time, but now it was just making her search all the more difficult—
THUMP!
The sound of something heavy hitting the ground snapped Mabel’s attention towards the edge of the forest, her gaze darting about wildly as she tried to locate the source. A goal that didn’t take long for her to accomplish; a conspicuous black mass was splayed out on the ground between a pair of nearby birch trees.
Her first guess was some kind of animal, until her gaze landed on a small, fleshy hand at the end of an arm. An arm, a head of messy hair, a pair of legs—
“Wait, that’s a person!”
Once her brain clicked two and two together, Mabel broke into a sprint towards the unknown—potentially unconscious—body. Sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed once she reached it and knelt down to investigate.
They were short, probably not much taller than her or Dipper at full height. And as Mabel rolled their unconscious body onto their back to get a closer look, further similarities between the mysterious person and Dipper presented themselves to her.
They had the same facial structure, their noses were the same rosy shade of peach that was slightly darker than the rest of their face. Even their messy mop of hair fell over their eyes in the exact same way Dipper’s did when he wasn’t wearing a hat, although his usual brown shade had been swapped for a light bleach-blonde that would make the entirety of Sev’ral Timez weep with envy.
Despite the similar physical features, the mysterious person’s fashion sense differed from Dipper’s in every way. Rather than the casual shirt, vest and hat combo that Dipper wore on a regular basis, the person was dressed in a black jacket and pants, bow tie, yellow button up—an unusually fancy outfit for someone who might’ve just fallen out of a tree in the middle of the woods.
“What’s wrong, Pumpkin?”
Drawing her gaze from the body, Mabel looked up to see Stan approaching her with a curious look. “I think someone fell out of one of the trees,” she explained. “I heard a loud thump, and saw them lying here. I think they might be a kid—”
“What’s going on over here, dudes?”
Stan turned to see Ford and Soos coming up behind him, a skateboard tucked safely under Soos’ arm. “I was just gonna wait until everyone was at the half-pipe ramp,” Soos explained. “Dipper said Mabel was looking for something, and I’m in no rush.”
He flashed a grin in Stan’s direction. “Even if I’d love to get to the inside part of the tour as soon as possible, you are gonna flip when you see it, Mr. Pines—”
“What’s wrong, Stanley?” Ford asked, echoing his brother’s earlier question.
“Accordin’ to Mabel, some kid fell out of a tree or something,” Stan said, with a look to Soos. “What, you’re just lettin’ kids climb in the trees around here now? You lookin’ to get sued by some Patsy or Jane with straight bangs and a failing marriage that she insists on makin’ everyone else’s business?”
Soos innocently raised his hands. “I didn’t let anyone do anything, I swear! Maybe he was part of the last tourist group of the day and got separated from them before they left? Haven’t had any parents show up looking for a lost kid, though.”
“Either way, we should probably call 911.” 
Ford knelt down beside Mabel and pressed two fingers to the unknown child’s neck. “Well, they have a pulse so they’re probably alive,” he said, then pulled his hand back. “Of course, a lack of pulse doesn’t rule out the possibility of them being undead. But if they did fall out of a tree, they could possibly have a concussion. So either way, it’s a concern.”
“Well, let’s hope you don’t have to rip out the spine of this one,” Stan said.
While they conversed, Mabel gingerly placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder and gave it a light shake. “Hello? Are you alright?”
There was no response, so she tried again with a bit more force. “Hey, kid, I hope you know that you just fell out of the sky!” she said with a bit more urgency. “Which is probably not out of the norm for kids in Gravity Falls, but still, it’s a little worrying!”
The child remained still for a moment more—
—before their body began to tremble with a quiet chuckle. A quiet chuckle that slowly morphed into a full-on laugh.
Any relief that might’ve started building inside Mabel was snuffed out in an instant as the laughter—that cold, cruel laughter—only grew more audible, and sent her crawling backwards in a panic as the body slowly rose up from the ground and turned to face her.
Now that Mabel got a better look at his face, the similarities to her brother were so clearly skin deep. Their aforementioned features were the same as before, but Dipper never smiled in a way that revealed all of his teeth and gums at once, like a young child being told to smile for the first time in front of a camera.
Dipper’s limbs weren’t quite as gangly and limp as the other boy’s, like a marionette being controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer who hadn’t mastered the art of making their body move naturally.
And Dipper’s eyes weren’t that terrifying, familiar shade of jaundice yellow, complete with slitted, catlike pupils that bore deep, deep into her very being.
“Grunkle Ford!”
Her panicked shout—one that spilled out of her on complete instinct before she could even process what she was saying—was far from necessary. Ford had completely frozen when the laughter had started, features aghast and grim as he stared at the child, as that wicked, horrible laughter droned on and on—
CRACK!
And suddenly the laughter was silenced, and the same sound of a body hitting a ground as before drew Mabel’s attention back to reality.
The child was unconscious again, now with a decent sized welt on the back of his head. And beside him stood Wendy, the bat from before in hand and her body hunched over while she tried to catch her breath. “Saw…saw what was happening,” she explained between sharp gulps of air. “Heard the laughing. Panicked…”
The only sound to break the silence that followed for a few seconds was the faint rustling of the wind through the trees, until a pair of approaching footsteps against the dirt drew everyone’s heightened attention towards the sound in a panic. 
Much like the others had done, Melody and Dipper were approaching the group from the direction of the half-pipe. Upon seeing their petrified expressions, Melody held up her hands. “Woah, woah, hey, what’s going on?”
From beside her, Dipper lifted up something he was clutching tightly in his hands—one of the discarded planks of wood from the Manotaur’s stage. “I heard Mabel yell and saw Wendy run over here with her bat,” Dipper added. “Thought it’d probably be smart to grab a weapon, too—”
“Get a rope.”
Ford didn’t tear his gaze from the body as he responded in a low tone, as if it would vanish the moment he looked away. As if he, or everything around him, would shatter in an instant if he dared tear his attention away from the body that had previously been letting out that horrible, horrible laughter. 
The laughter that had haunted his dreams for four decades, the laughter still bouncing off the inside of his skull, even after Wendy had silenced the source.
When he didn’t elaborate further, Dipper looked to one of the other adults for an explanation—
“You heard him! Get a rope!”
It was Stan who replied next, and actually spun to face them with a grim expression. “A rope, chains…if it can be used to tie someone up, then get it!”
“It’s code yellow, Melody,” Wendy said quickly. “Soos, do we still got that unicorn-hair rope?”
“Same place as it always is,” Soos said, and looked to Melody. “Come on, we need to hurry—I’ll get the moonstones, you fetch the mercury.”
Recognizing their urgency, Melody looked to the unconscious body on the ground. “...That’s him, then?”
“Did you hear me, I said get a rope!”
It was Ford who spoke again, tone more demanding as he finally tore his gaze from the body to glare at them. “If I have to say it a third time—”
“Oh, okay, yeah, that answers that question,” Melody said quickly, and gestured for the rest of them to follow. “Alright, there’s a rope and a chair to tie him to in the shack. But who’s gonna—”
“I’ve got it.”
Letting the bat clatter to the ground, Wendy scruffed the unconscious child by the back of his jacket and hoisted him up into the air. “Let’s get him inside.”
With mild chaos, the group hurried towards the Shack with the unconscious child in hand. Leaving the bat, Mabel’s unfortunately-missed blob of blue poster tack lying several yards away, and the remaining exhibit displays abandoned as the first real hints of night began to peek their way through the treetops.
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wannab-urs · 1 year ago
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Congrats on 1.5k! So deserved!! 🖤
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To celebrate, I'd love a drabble. Any Pedro boy will do!
Keep rocking & being awesome, gorgeous! 🖤😘
Thank you so so so much <3 I hope you like this ahhhh
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Save a Horse... Or Whatever
Pairing: Jack "Agent Whiskey" Daniels x Reader
Summary: Whiskey got hurt on a mission and he comes into your lab to get patched up.
Warnings: Jack Daniels being allowed to speak, medical shit that is completely bullshitted, one mention of blood, some talk of like digging around in a wound, etc, Whiskey calls you Soda pop and Sugar. Technically you're Agent Soda. Brief descriptions of oral m!receiving. No use of y/n, reader isn't gendered (I don't think?) WC: 900
A/N: I kind of think I'll turn this into a full one shot at some point? This is unbeta'd sorry!
Jack Daniels Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
You really did not expect to end up with Agent Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today. Maybe you’d thought about it before, maybe hoped the opportunity would present itself at some point, but certainly not today. 
–-
He left your field office this morning for what was supposed to be a simple mission. Go in, shoot the fuckers, take the briefcase, call in the clean up crew. Simple, easy, something he’d done a hundred times. But somehow it got fucked up six ways from Sunday and he ended up limping his sorry ass into your lab, carrying the brief case but also dragging his left leg. 
“Howdy, Soda Pop. Reckon you could fix up my leg?” He flashes you his trademark sideways smile and a wink, before his face crumples and his legs nearly give out from under him. 
“Fuck, Whiskey! What in the hell happened to you?” You run over to help him, grabbing his thick arm and heaving him onto your examination table. 
“Let’s just say I did not receive a Kentucky welcome.” 
“Clearly. Can you take your jeans off, or am I gonna have to cut you out?” Whiskey smirks at you again and you brace yourself for whatever is about to come out of his mouth. 
“Well now, Soda Pop, thought you’d at least take me out to dinner before you tried to get in my pants. Think I can manage to get naked for ya though, sugar.” 
“Jesus fucking Christ, Whiskey you’re literally bleeding out,” you chastise him as he pulls off his belt. He winces as he shucks his blood stained jeans down his thighs, panting a little with the effort.
You try desperately not to show how much it turns you on. The guy you’ve harbored a bit of a crush on for years stripping down right in front of you… Who could blame you, honestly?
“Fuck! Soda, I’m too weak to whip a gnat. You’re gonna have to pull ‘em the rest of the way.” He collapses back on the table, jeans sitting not even half way down his thighs. 
You huff an annoyed breath and roll your eyes. “Shoulda just let me cut them off, idiot.” You pull off his ridiculous designer cowboy boots and yank his jeans the rest of the way down. You head over to your storage cabinet and grab some alcohol wipes, a pair of forceps, and a Beta Gel shot. 
Stepping between his parted legs, you clean his wound with the wipes as carefully as you can. His breath hitches in what you assume is pain and he digs his nails into his palms. “Alright, Whiskey, I gotta dig the bullet fragments out now. I can give you a pain shot, but your leg will be numb for the rest of the day. Up to you.” 
He props himself up on his elbows and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Don’t need a shot, sugar. I can handle it.” 
You raise a very skeptical eyebrow, but grab the forceps anyway. As you start the process of removing metal fragments from his leg, Whiskey sucks in a breath and his head falls back between his shoulder blades. You initially think it’s from pain. “Sure you can handle it, cowboy?” 
“Oh yeah, baby doll. I can handle it.” You eye him suspiciously, before trailing your eyes back down to where you’re working on his leg. Something catches your attention though. 
“Jack Daniels,” you say sternly. “Are you fucking getting off on this?” His cock is half hard in his boxer briefs. 
“And what if I was? Pretty girl, fixin’ me up, touchin’ me all over…” He trails off. 
“That why you became an Agent, Whiskey? You got a pain kink?” You resume pulling the pieces of the bullet out of his leg, nearly done now anyway. 
“Just ignore it, sugar. It’ll go away,” his voice is raspy, rough as if he’d been yelling and so low you feel it in your gut. You pull the last bit of the bullet out, grab the beta gel shot, and stab it into his thigh. 
His cock jumps in his underwear and he falls flat back on the table, letting out a slight whimper. 
“And what if I don’t want it to go away, Whiskey?” You don’t move from between his thighs. In fact, you step in closer, trail your hands up the outsides of his thighs and press your thumbs in. 
His head perks up at that and he meets your eyes, a cocky grin spreading across his face. “Well then, Soda pop… How’d you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” 
“That’s a terrible line, Whiskey. I really hope you don’t use that often.” 
“Only once or twice, sugar.” You roll your eyes, but hook your fingers into the waistband of his briefs anyway. You pull them down and his cock springs out, hitting his belly with a thwack. “Jesus, Jack, how do you walk around with that thing?” 
“Bowlegged,” he deadpans. You snort a laugh and take him in your hand, wrapping your fingers around his obscene girth. You dip your head and lick a stripe up the underside of his cock before wrapping your lips around the tip and sliding down as far as you can in one smooth motion. 
–-
And that is how you ended up with Whiskey’s cock in your mouth today.  Next time you’re aiming to end up in his bed. 
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according2thelore · 10 months ago
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Ohmygod this was my askkkk!! I am so so happy with thiss, rolling around it like a kitten I am sooo fed!!! Tysm!! The twist with it being their intention all along for ES!winchesters to find out…..I am dead, absolutely dead. You are so good, soo creative. ES!Sam you are in for a ride, and ES!Dean, you better get over with your hangups soon and accept what it is.
My imagination is running wild now and because of this being intentional, I am imagining LS!Winchesters now fully staging this setup, lure ES!Sam in it because he would be easier to convince and LS!Sam knows that Dean *deserves* to be with a version of himself, pre cage, pre demon blood, all pure and innocent and fiery and angry and confident - something he is only rarely these days. This Sam will take what he wants. So LS!Sam arranges this thing for LS!Dean and ES!Sam, tells his Dean to enjoy! And my oh my does he. ES!Sam is his to claim first now???? This precious thing, eager to please but also has this arrogance in him that makes him so so so much Sam. Meanwhile ES!Dean is off to run some errand (by LS!Sam's design) but he returns early and sees his baby bro with that older version of himself and LOSES IT. HOW DARE DEAN NOT ONKY DEFILE HIS OWN LITTLE BROTHER BUT ALSO ES!DEAN'S!!!!! HE IS FURIOUS AND YEARNING AND HATES IT THAT HE WASNT THE ONE AND STARTS STRAIGHT UP MURDER BUT LS!SAM MAYBE CALMS HIM???? OHMYGOD
(also??? thank you so much for correcting the misread ask???? I would have taken with greedy grabby hands if you had completely misread it also!! I am OBSESSED with this verse! You are the nicestestestest)
HIHIHIHI!!!!!
GAH! this ask was so cute and nice i was kickin' my lil feet!
this idea is so great! your mind!
this falls into a similar category as one of my most recent posts, and i wrote it accordingly. do i think that LS!Dean would deprive ES!Dean of being LS!Sam's "first" dean? no, i don't think so. that bastard is so possessive i think he can respect the insane-brotherwife grind.
so this is just a delightful hypothetical based on your prompt!
without further ado, enjoy!
"plan b?" dean asks, and sammy lifts his head from his arms. his temples throb with a headache.
dean is sitting across from him at the dining table, nursing a glass of something sam can smell from here. sam snags the glass and takes a sip that curdles his nose hairs before passing it back.
"were we really this stupid? like this dumb?" sammy groans, rubbing a hand through his hair. "i mean, i believe you would be this obtuse, but me? i was just studying for the LSAT like a year ago!"
"oh here comes the big fancy college boy with his big triangle words. you're still gagging for me so hard you're getting an aneurysm." dean rolls his eyes. sammy rolls his eyes right back.
it hadn't worked. they had set those little fuckers up, and expected at least a conversation to happen. but sammy just walked in on their younger selves in the kitchen the other day and they didn't even break apart abashedly! no awkward explanations at all! there wasn't even anything to explain--they were standing on opposite sides of the room!
"did we make it worse?" sammy asks. dean considers this.
"nah. we can fuck it up at least three times as bad if we put our heads together."
so they put their heads together.
~~~
"you want me to what?" sam asks, and there's that blush. sammy tilts his head away so the kid can't see him smile. it's going to make this so much harder if he thinks he's being laughed at.
"pour some sugar on me," dean says, waggling his eyebrows.
sam's face sours.
yup. made it harder.
"not really," sammy is quick to correct. "just...make it look like something's happening."
sam's eyes narrow.
"why?"
and isn't that the crux of the whole damn thing. sammy's done some weird things in his life. he's been to the past. he's been to the future. he's been to hell, been to alternate dimensions, and killed just about every type of monster one can think of.
and yet, having to explain why he and dean want to "parent trap" their own younger selves to said younger self might rank high on that list of weird.
"guy's in love with you." dean says, before sammy can say anything. sammy clenches his jaw. way to just jump into this thing.
sam blanches. "no. he's not. you're--he's my brother. you don't know what you're talking about."
"i don't know dean?" dean asks, eyebrow raised. sam sputters.
"well, you know you. but my dean is different. he's not--" heat creeps onto sam's cheeks, as if remembering the compromising position he caught them in the other day. "you."
dean mhmms flatly.
"then what's the harm? he walks in on this, is not jealous, and it doesn't do anything." sammy posits.
"easy for you to say! you have--" sam gestures at dean, but doesn't look at him. "if my dean caught me like that, if he knew--he'd...he'd never talk to me again. he'd...he'd be disgusted."
sammy and dean share a look. after having been tested so often, so deeply, and reaffirming their...bond--as chick-flick and meaningless as it sounds--the distance they had gained from this depth of anxiety removed the sting from it.
sammy will always remember working himself literally ill over it. but when he feels like that, he has the comfort of walking up to dean and biting down on the place where his neck and shoulder meet. he has the comfort of dean putting sticky notes that read "kick me" on the back, and then holding his face like he's the only thing that's ever mattered.
their younger selves deserve this. sammy has no idea if this is going to change the past. he doesn't know if these two will leave here tomorrow or in a week or in a year and be completely wiped-clean, or if they'll keep it all. but they deserve that comfort, that confirmation, that reassurance, as long as they can have it.
and honestly, fuck it. sammy wants a younger dean to be with his younger self. he sees their insecurities and their weird dance around each other and kciks himself for ever being so blind.
not having dean as soon as it was possible to have him will always be one of his biggest regrets.
so, sammy says,
"okay, listen. if it doesn't work, we have a mirror in 219 that erases the viewer's memories from the last 24 hours. all of 'em. so if we try this, and it doesn't work, we can slip it under dean's pillow, and he won't even remember. a zero sum game. no harm, no foul, right?"
sammy can feel dean's eyes on the side of his face, but he maintains intense eye-contact with his younger self.
no, they don't. they absolutely do not have that.
but for the first time, he can see something like hope in the kid's eyes, and--again, fuck it. in for a penny.
"he won't remember?" sam repeats, slowly.
"not a thing." sammy says, wondering if this counts as lying or self-delusion. sam is quiet for a long moment. he looks between him and dean for a few times, suspicion melting.
"yeah. okay." he says finally, looking at dean with a strange hunger in his eyes that brings sammy up short. oh shit. should he-- "i'm in."
~~~
getting dean out of the bunker is embarrassingly easy.
"you know what i would kill for right now?" sammy asks, suddenly, while they're all sitting around a table in the library. sam jolts, even though he had been expecting it. "pringles. do we have any pringles left?"
"oh, man." sam says, his eyes widen. "me, too."
even though they planned this out ten minutes ago, sammy's dean perks up like he's going to say something decidedly not-on-script. sammy shoots him a warning look. he sighs.
"whoops. i think i ate them all." dean looks at the table, like he's a football player forced to be in the school play for extra credit.
"oh." younger dean says. he sits up straight. he looks back and forth between the sams. "i mean. yeah. if we need a grocery run, i could go get some."
his nonchalant tone is belied by the fact his almost trips over his own feet to get up.
"i'll be back!" he calls, already in the doorway.
"god, i'm so fucking transparent." older dean mutters directly into his own palms as he hides his face in his hands. sam pats him on the back comfortingly.
forty-five minutes later, it's all in motion.
sammy knocks against the door twice as he hears dean's footsteps shuffle down the hallway, and rushes away, rounding the corner so dean won't be able to see him.
sam and older dean are set up in the garage. dean had pulled up one of the cars right next to the door so younger dean could see everything.
they had laid out clear ground rules: no actual kissing, no touching "bathing suit territory" (dean had proposed that addendum solemnly, and sam's face had screwed up, like he was considering if he actually felt anything but annoyance for his brother.)
they had decided on signals: two knocks when dean was coming, one knock if things were going to plan, three knocks for "i'll go get the mirror" for sam, and "oh shit we gotta have a plan c" for dean.
sammy had made sure the door was perfectly cracked to give dean some assurance of anonymity, and they had figured that was the best strategy, since dean was known apparently to peep when he suspected his older self and sammy were getting close.
sammy hadn't expected being able to hear sam and older dean's voices from down the hallway, but he can. he can also hear younger dean's footsteps falter as he gets closer to the door.
"no, you're doing it--" an aggravated sigh. "c'mere." a shuffling of limbs. "you see how the drive belt comes this way? we need to loop it around the--"
a pause.
"what're you lookin' at?" dean's voice has lowered an octave, and sammy shifts, a pavlov reaction to hearing dean like that.
"i'm just--" sam peters into silence. a gasp. younger dean's gasp. did he think it was sammy in the garage this whole time? sammy stifles a smile against his hand.
"you lookin' at me, sammy baby?"
"baby?" sam repeats indignantly, but is cut off by a gasp as something in the room clatters to the ground.
"yeah, that's right. you're my baby brother, aren't you? my baby brother. you like seein' me like this? bigger than you? i know my sammy likes it when i throw him around a little. show him who takes care of him."
sam is breathless, and sammy can hear it, when he says, "dean."
sammy wonders how they're set up. does dean have him pressed to the front of the car? hiked onto a table, like he and sammy were set up that first time?
he realizes that it's killing him not to know.
a coo, from dean. "oh. look at you, sweetheart. you're so hard, and i haven't even touched you yet. you think i could make you come just by talkin' to you? hm? you like big brother tellin' you how much he loves takin' care of you that much?"
sammy realizes that he's started to chub up in his jeans. and he also realizes that younger dean hasn't said anything yet. sammy's torn between wanting to look around the corner and see if he's still there and staying put.
what if sam was right, and younger dean's just not ready for this yet? sammy's dean had reassured him in no uncertain terms that he had been lusting after sam since a truly concerning age.
but what if the jealousy is too much? what if seeing them like that carves an impossible chasm?
"dean, i--i" sam sounds much more unsure, like he's losing control fast. sammy bites down hard on his tongue.
he makes a split-second decision.
he rounds the corner.
and dean's got a fucking gun.
sammy starts in a dead sprint just as dean kicks open the door to the garage.
"you sick fuck!" he yells. sammy's behind him in a second, pulling his arms back. dean's starts kicking immediately, even as sammy is able to pull him mostly off the ground.
"he's a kid!" dean's still yelling. "we promised, fucker! we promised!"
sammy looks around dean's flailing body, and sees sam's horrified face. he looks like he's about to be sick. older dean's leaned him up against the side of the car, and he's not even touching him, just standing a few inches away. sammy's dean has visibly paled.
"hey, that's not--" he starts, but dean's already going off again,
"get your goddamn hands off of him!" sammy starts hauling him away, and manages to kick the garage door closed--but not before dean shouts a parting shot, "you think he wants those disgusting fucking hands on him?!"
sammy manages to wrestle dean a couple steps down the hallway before dean starts to go limp.
"i'm calm," dean says, and his gun hand does actually go limp, so sammy starts to let him go.
"what the hell happened back there?" sammy asks, heartbeat in his throat. play dumb! play dumb!
dean tucks his gun back into his pants. he's looking at the wall over sammy's shoulder.
"he shouldnta' been sayin' that." dean mutters. "not his place to. sam is...never mind."
not his place to.
"his place?" sammy prompts. despite the fact that he's pretty sure he had a heart attack back there, he tries really, really hard not to smile. he's taking this very seriously.
dean's phrase is dangerously close to the point of all this, and sam should not celebrate because he's positive older dean and sam are powering through some angst (that sammy will have to deal with later) in the next room right now.
sammy feels like one of those tv show therapists with big glasses, armchair, and ballpoint pen. and how did that make you feel?
"i don't--" dean's eyes fall to his. "i don't know why i said that." his brows furrow. "i gotta go. i need some fresh air."
and without another word, dean turns around and walks away.
operation: go convince your brother to kiss you, but also not you is a-go.
before he walks away, sammy remembers the knock code: once for success, two for dean's arrival, three for failure. and honestly?
sammy knocks on the door once. and he trails after dean, barely resisting the urge to whistle.
oh yeah. they got this in the bag.
~~~~
@aj-carryon au contraire! you are the nicest! i hope you enjoyed this little ficlet, aj! (i hope that's your name, if not, then i hope you enjoyed, friend!)
your asks always make me giggle and twirl my hair, lol! kissing u on both cheeks!
-lizzy
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anitabighug · 2 years ago
Text
❥ A Perfect Experiment : Wally x Reader (She/Her Pronouns, Named) ✿
Chapter Masterpost: [  ♡   ♡    ♡ ]
Chapter Five; Can’t Help Falling in Love ( A/N: This chapter has a lot of music involved with it! If you’d like to listen along, click the [♫] SONG NAME - ARTIST as you see them! ) ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● The four of you arrive in the square, and go your separate ways. Barnaby, who had carried Wally limply under his arm all the way over for some reason, dragged the boy over to the snack table to start the party up straight away. Howdy had his work cut out for him, that was for sure. You and Poppy scooch over to an empty table, and are quickly met by Julie, hiding her intentions with another pot of flowers that she sets up next to your record player. “Did you bring the goods, Buttercup?” She asks in a hushed tone, pupils darting from side to side. “Buttercup?” You raise your eyebrow, and Poppy pulls the cable out of your hand to start plugging things in. “Its your code name!!! I thought of ‘em myself. You’re Buttercup, Poppy is Pigeon, Sally,” She points across the field where Sally is, running an extension cord from Home to plug in the lights, “Is Honey, and I’m the Captain!” She shoves a thumb against her chest proudly. “Why do we need code names?” You settle into one of the folding chairs, and rest your head on your hands, peering up Julie. Your eyebrow remains cocked. “Every successful mission has code names. Scientific fact.” Julie waggled her eyebrows at you oh-so charmingly. Well, you can’t argue with that logic. You lift the record up from its resting spot, and Julie squeals, grabbing it from your hands and spinning. “There he is!!! The King Himself! This is going to be PERFECT!” She hands it back to you, bouncing up and down vigorously. Elvis’ face gives you a suave smile from the record sleeve where he rests, and you nod. Excellent choice. “Now!! Here's the plan.” Julie slaps a crudely drawn crayon map onto the table, pulling the two of you in close… ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Julie’s plan had you DJing the event, to wait for her signal. This was more than fine with you, you loved your record collection and were beyond psyched to show it off. Besides, you could dance just as well from the comfort and privacy of your chair. The sun had just set, and with a nod and a flourish, Frank had lit his project ablaze. It turned out to be an intricate bonfire, and it lit up the clearing beautifully, well worth his hard work. The beats from your speakers bounced around your neighbours, their booties shaking wildly. Phase one; Lull them into a false sense of security. It takes a boatload of willpower to keep the malicious smile off of your face. Something about this secret agent mission thrilled you, though you would never admit it. You’d gone home earlier briefly to change into something more party-appropriate, as had everyone else, it seemed. Your party outfit was based on extensive testing and focus groups, discussed amongst groups of experts, and had 100% chance of making you look ‘Just cute as a button!’ according to the top expert, Julie. By ‘extensive testing’, you of course mean that it won third place in the fashion show that you, Julie and Sally had put on in the comfort of your home. You’d claim nepotism, but the way the girls had looked at each other, it was obvious that they’d already tied long before you’d even moved to Home. The dress itself was pastel pink, some sort of pleather, tighter than you’d like, with a tall white collar and no sleeves. What it lacked in sleeves though, it made up for in a big poofy skirt, pink with a white underskirt as well. You paired it with a white belt, a pair of go-go boots that Julie had gifted you, and a bow sitting off to the side of your short hair, feathered back for the occasion. Just perfect, you concluded, and perfectly matched to your classy, fashionable friends!!! Sally’s outfit was out of this world. She had glitzy striped pants with frills going down the side, and the poofiest blouse you’d ever seen. Next to her, dragging Frank on to the dance floor, was Julie. She was absolutely dolled up, taking every advantage that this party gave her. You didn’t think her hair could get bigger before, but seeing it curled up into a beehive proved you wrong. No amount of science would be able to figure out how she got it to stay in place with all that crazy dancing. Frank had barely changed up his own outfit, merely opting to swap out his dress shirt with one with shorter sleeves for the heat, and leaving his bowtie at home– you weren’t sure what you preferred! You watched as Julie popped his collar, causing the two girls to start to giggle madly. Poppy’s usual shawl had been switched with one made of a beautiful lace, and the pearl necklace she’d included added that touch of grace and maturity you expected from her. Howdy had a short-sleeved dress shirt on, burgundy with little white flowers on it, and you had to admit he looked so charming with his hair slicked back like that. Barnaby might’ve been your favourite of all of them, you took one look at the vest he was wearing and wheezed out a laugh. It was the EXACT same as his usual vest, but with layered frills for days. It was probably to match Wally’s outfit, an expertly starched white dress shirt, and striped pants with the same layered frills on the ends of the legs. They looked adorable apart, but together it was almost too much for you! That left Eddie Dear, who had apparently only left to finish his evening rounds for the mail, returning a little shocked to find that everyone else had dressed up so fancy. Julie had a solution, however, discarding his cap and bag and setting a flower crown on his head. He looked absolutely delighted by it. [♫] Jailhouse Rock - Elvis Presley “Well don’t you just look cute as a button,” You almost couldn’t hear Wally’s suave tones over the music, but the compliment made you light up. “Th-thank you, Mr. Darling!!! I was a little worried I’d never get the chance to wear something like this,” You admitted with a laugh. He settled in next to you, and set a plate of snacks down beside the record player, “Ha ha ha. Who would’ve thought a little spit and polish would make everyone so happy?” He wondered aloud, “I thought you could use some company. You looked awfully lonely over here.” “Who could be lonely when they’ve got the king around?” You ask with a cheery laugh before lifting and taking a bite of one of the sandwiches he’d brought, following it with an appreciative ‘Mmm!’. Wally started looking around, checking behind your chair and frantically checking behind the two of you. It takes a few moments before you realise he’s looking for the King, and you nearly choke on your bite when it comes to you.
You manage to swallow it, and reach over, lifting up the record sleeve and pointing at the picture on the cover. Realisation floods the puppet’s face, followed swiftly by a blush across his cheeks. How cute… You hand him the sleeve to examine further, returning your attention to the sandwich he’d so kindly brought for you. Wally checks the sleeve over thoroughly, making sure that this ‘king’ wasn’t some strange intruder he had to be wary of. When he was satisfied of the lack of sentience, he finally took a good look at Elvis himself. He sure had excellent taste in hair, that was for sure. It was weird, though… Why was there a big lipgloss mark on The King’s cheek? You seemed to be so protective of your record collection… He felt a weird feeling shoot through his heart, and shoved it along with the record sleeve away, turning his focus on the rainbow monster that had scurried to the tableside. “Are you ready for phase two, Buttercup?” She asked, slamming a hand on to the table. The record skipped, and it only took one sour look from you to get her to apologise, giving the record player a gentle pat. “Ready and waiting, Captain!” You give her a lazy salute, and are given a determined nod from her before she hurries back to her station. You hear another monotone laugh from beside you, and peer back towards Wally. “Buttercup?” “... Its my code name,” Your cheeks feel red hot, and you reach up instinctively to cover them. He laughs again, and you swear you hear him mumble ‘Adorable.’... But that just can’t be right. Ugh, you can’t afford to be distracted now, no matter how sweet his compliments were!!! You take in a deep breath, and take note of where everyone is on the dance floor. It was time for phase two. Group one had Honey and the Captain herding the target to the center of the dance floor; distracting him with hijinks and pranks and lightening his usual dour mood. They were right on track, and you make a mental note to compliment them on their excellent espionage. Group two was doing even better! Pigeon had lured the bait into the perfect spot, the two of them bounding to the beat almost next to the bonfire, and Howdy gave you a nod from where he stood, ready to swoop in. “Just.. A second… More…” You mumble to yourself, your trigger happy hand sitting above the needle. You’d know where to move on the record even if you were blind and deaf; the trap was only the most beautiful song that the King had made, and you’d get this to go off without a hitch. You’d promised her, after all. Wally squints at you, and only just manages to start asking you what on earth you’re up to when you see it; the signal. Frank’s back is turned to you, and Julie gives you a spastic wave. Not the most subtle, but y’know, it worked. The record scratches. The music stops. Everyone stops dead in their tracks. The Bait and the Target look around with concerned expressions, and Howdy dives from his hiding spot. [♫] Can’t help falling in love - Elvis Presley The music starts back up. The piano is soft. Dancers pair up as if it was planned– even though it totally wasn’t, you swear. Sally grabs Julie, squeezing her girlfriend close and leaving Frank floundering. Poppy is scooped by Howdy in a very, very subtle move that leaves Eddie flushed. You’re on the edge of your seat, squeezing the tablecloth anxiously in your hands. Eddie seems to realise whats happened first, and with a nervous laugh, he turns to Frank, offering a hand. But… Frank hesitates. Your heart stops, and without thinking, you’re gripping Wally’s shirt and sinking back in your chair. Oh, you didn’t think of this happening. What if he blows it? What if he gets mad? Oh, you can’t watch. But you also can’t look away. You feel Wally’s other hand rest on your head, not petting or rubbing, but just resting. Even that kind gesture couldn’t pull you from this train wreck. “OOPS!” Julie to the rescue! She shoves Frank hard with her hip, the puppet stumbling forwards into Eddie’s arms. Yes!! The whole neighbourhood watches with baited breath. Eddie laughs heartily, and takes that as a yes, starting to move backwards to get Frank back on his feet, and leading him in the dance. You can’t contain your excited wiggle. Yes! Mission accomplished!! Julie and Sally each shoot you a wink, and you give them two big thumbs up. Wally is practically in stitches next to you, and wipes a tear from his eye,
“Is this what her big plan was?” He asked, peering over at you quizzically. You laugh, and nod in response. Wally scooches his chair closer to listen as you explain the plan quietly to him. You lean a little closer to him, your arms brushing against each other as you watch the fruits of your labour. The two of them look to be having a serious conversation under their breaths, both with blush tinged cheeks, and tiny smiles across their faces. Absolutely flawless. You take in a deep, calming breath. Wally smells like apples, naturally, along with distinct undertones of… licorice? Haha, weird. It suits him, strangely enough. You wonder briefly what you smell like. Probably latex gloves? How disappointing. You wish that there was a nice smell that late nights at the observatory could give you, aside from graphite and notebook pages. “Weird,” You mumble under your breath, eliciting a questioning noise from Wally. “Oh. Well, the lights can make it hard to see the stars, but… Ah, it must be a new moon. Silly me.” Wally stiffens next to you, but you don’t have time to question it before you’re scooped up unwillingly into another puppets arms. [♫] A Big Hunk O’ Love - Elvis Presley “C’mere, you!” Barnaby sets you gingerly on one of his arms, lifting you out to the dance floor and the giggles erupt from you, no matter how hard you’re trying to hold them back with the nervous hands over your face. “You didn’t think you’d get to just sit there all night, did’ja??? Time to boogie!” His laugh was deep and you could feel it through his arm, him not even bothering to put you down before he started shaking his booty to the new song. You can’t! It’d be too embarrassing! You can’t see them, but there are definitely eyes on you. No… Noooo! The boogie, alas, was too infectious for your weak heart, and you felt the wiggles overtake you in Barnaby’s arms. Your shoulder dance seems to be the secret key to him putting you down, and he gives you courage in the form of a hand held and a big grin on his face. Can’t say no to that face, or the king’s bouncy tones, for very long at all. Before you realise what's happening, you’re swinging to the music, and the idea of embarrassing yourself has floated somewhere into the upper atmosphere. Maybe you’d find that fear again one night while stargazing, floating through the stars where no one can hear it. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● Wally relaxes through the next few songs, leaning back in his folding chair and taking the occasional unseen bite from the remaining sandwich on the plate. Barnaby was right, of course, he was going to be sore in the morning. Maybe for a few mornings after that, too. Something about the reckless abandon with which you took to the dance floor, though… He couldn’t take his eyes off it for more than a moment. You look so, SO unbelievably silly. Like you’d practiced these spastic wiggles a million times before. He leaned forwards, setting his head dreamily in his hands. Ha ha ha… Was that an air guitar he saw? “Absolutely… Adorable.” He drolls, and his brain takes a quick halt. Adorable. It wasn’t the first time he’d said this about you, not even tonight. And it's not like he didn’t compliment his other friends… A pang shook through his chest, and he clutched the front of his shirt… No, something about this was different… And something about your questioning gaze earlier… This was oh, so dangerous for him. So why hadn’t he stopped you yet? There were countless ways, methods he’d used before, methods he’d use again… Maybe you just needed… More distraction. Right; that was the problem. Well, that much he could do without arousing too much suspicion. He unbuttoned his top button, and smoothed his perfect hair, and stood up. If there was one thing Wally Darling could do, it was dance. With a pop of his collar, he strode on, ready to show these kids a thing or two. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・● [♫] Devil in Disguise - Elvis Presley You’d been tossed between a few eager partners at this point, including but not limited to: A dance with Julie in which you’d mostly just shook your hair, a brief exchange with Eddie Dear, who’d thanked you under his breath while staring across at a certain someone, and a wild dance with Poppy who shook her feathers in ways you hadn’t even imagined before. This latest one was graced with Howdy, and you’d made a comment about how you needed to run an experiment to see if your hypothesis was correct; more limbs DEFINITELY made for more fun in a dance partner! You had him almost completely hysterical when something stole his attention away. Apparently it was someone cutting in, and you’re shocked when one of your arms is pulled upwards, giving you a spin and a dip. Wally Darling grins down at you, and you melt in an instant. Whoa. He gives one of his slow, droning laughs and pulls you back up, leading you with both of your arms now, swaying you quickly back and forth with the bouncing melody. It was as if he was shaped perfectly by the gods to swing it to Elvis. He switches from a slower portion of the song, swaying back and forth with you, to effortlessly spinning you out and then back in, your hand landing smack dab in the middle of his chest. You felt like your brain was going to pop. He lands the finishing blow perfectly, and as the song ends, he bonks his forehead against your own, staring in to your eyes briefly before stepping back. He pats you on the shoulder and moves on to his next victim; leaving you standing there as if nothing had ever happened. Your hands fly up to hide your red hot face. Uuuugh! You deserve a good sit down after that. (A/N: I was asked to tag @elegantkidfansoul with the update! If you’d also like to be tagged, feel free to let me know! ^v^ This update was a little long, but it was so fun to write eeee!!!)
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