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hereforthehitsbaby · 4 months ago

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Beca beca please please I’m begging you write smt w cooper x shy!plus size reader. Please please please😭😭😭🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

In The Now | Cooper Adams/Abbott x Plus Size F!Reader

Gif credit to @d-vient

Synopsis: Nightly walks by the fire station is a ritual, a way to clear your mind from the bullshit in your life. The firefighters do so much for your community, why not give them a little appreciation back? Though, only one remains, and he happens to be your favorite.

Warnings: Porn with Plot, Smut, Soft!Cooper, Shy!Reader, Mentions of weight (soft belly/tummy, grabbable thighs, soft flesh, ect.), Public Sex???, Oral F!Receiving, Floor Sex, Cooper Talks You Through It (Shh its canon,)

Word Count: 6.2k

Rating: M

Author’s Note: I hope I did your request justice.

Tagging: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica

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Introvert; a typically reserved or quiet person who tends to be introspective and enjoys spending time alone. Shy; being reserved or having or showing nervousness or timidity in the company of other people. What do both have in common? You. Being shy and introverted is not a bad thing, no, in fact it is a great thing. It protects you from the horrors of the world, keeps you in line with other things in life so – you can get the full experience without the bullshit that comes with it. It is a better way to go through each day; You’re not naïve but careful. You don’t leave traces where you have been, but you garner experiences. You don’t remember conversations but, you remember names and faces. It is better that way; it is easier to be in the background of everyone else’s journey than to be at the forefront. Not being seen is good, it’s safe. You know where you are and cannot be touched. It’s better than whatever is going on locally.

Sure, Philadelphia isn’t the prime location for a job change but – it was better than one season states. At least in Philly you got to see the leaves change, sun to rain to snow, every element was prevalent each day. It was a step up from what you were used to, nothing could follow you here. Your past, your regrets – they stayed away, like they deserved to. You deserved and needed a fresh start – this was the best way to do it, this ensured that you could be seen with fresh eyes, over critical ones. You didn’t want to be in the spotlight, or in places where it wasn’t important. You wanted a name for yourself, but one that didn’t bring attention. Wallflower, that was what you wanted. Standing, listening, analyzing; You take inventory of a room and guess the life pattern for everyone, then be on your merry way. Quiet, demure, mindful.

Moving here was a dream come true – a great work opportunity that you couldn’t pass on. You would’ve been a fool to do so. Plus, a way to escape the realism of your hometown? Call it a win-win situation. It was what every reclusive person wanted; Fully remote, put up in a swanky condo across from the fire department – so you know you’d never lose power in snowstorms. It was good; Safe. It meant you were out of the public sights of the world, you could in passing say hi and move on – never commit to the names. They never mattered anyways. It was a great experience, a great road trip drive, and better yet – a dream come true to explore.

Ladder 49 in Philly is an exuberant bunch – always laughing and welcoming the neighbors in. Every Spring day they are drawing hopscotch with the kids. Every Summer they are playing basketball. Every Autumn they are carving pumpkins and delivering turkeys. Every Winter they are holding toy drives and shoveling people out. When they say they are community driven – they are not kidding. Years upon years of photos always sit in the forefront of the station, showing new and oldcomers alike how much they love giving back, how devoted they are to the community. It was the luck of the draw for you to be across from it, it was a match made in heaven. The first day you moved in was just a show of their kindness, their dedication. Especially when the fire chief came strolling over with a simple sentence: “Let me take those for you.” He didn’t even stutter or miss a step as he took the box out of your arms, and carried it inside. A leader of example, considering his men were quick to grab the rest. That was your first interaction with Cooper Adams, and sure as hell hoped it wasn’t going to be the last.

With the Summer cresting into Fall in Philly, shorts weather now became jeans and a sweatshirt weather. It felt better, not having to deal with chafing thighs and the constant sticky skin. The humidity was brutal this time of the year, but as it dried against you skin it felt nice. The second you could feel it on your back, your stomach, and your sides? It was AC for you. But with the Fall rolling through it just made things better. The air was crisper, the mood was starting to get that spooky feel – with Halloween on the way in. It was everything you wanted, everything you asked for. Everything that made the world feel alright again.

Your favorite things to do during this time were take late night strolls through the town, getting use to the city and seeing how places were starting to decorate. Headlamps lined the streets in Victorian era black steel, the orange glow of the lightbulbs inside caused a cozy feeling to overtake your body. It brought you solace and comfort, knowing everything would be orange and red soon – and the rain would move in sweetly. Pulling your coat tighter around your body, you wrapped your arms over your chest – enjoying the plush feel. Your boots scuffed at the newly paved sidewalk, bringing music to your ears. Laughter could be heard from around the corner, the park playground – as the smell of marijuana hung sweetly in the air. Inhaling the scent deeply, you let your eyes fall shut at the notion – swaying on your own two feet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re already ready for Winter!” A cheery voice chimed from beside you, causing your eyes to slowly drift open. Turning your head to your right, you saw him sitting against the firehouse wall, spraying down his helmet with cleaner as he smiled at you. Him, the one you have been pining over for months since you arrived in Philly – the one to always strike up a conversation with you. Cooper Adams, fire chief, and resident DILF.

Ever since that first day of taking your boxes in, he never passes on the opportunity to strike up a conversation with you. It was sweet, it was also the highlight of your days. His long chestnut locks always falling into his face, sweeping them away with both hands – the way his ember eyes glittered against any type of lighting sent shivers down your spine. You grew to admire the golden flecks his irises always loved to send out, sparkling like Tiger’s Eye against the sun. He was beauty and grace wrapped into one, the All-American man. Everything you could see yourself wanting, Cooper was. To you it felt silly to have such a high-school crush on a man, clearly in his forties but, the body wants what it wants. The little lines around his eyes when he laughed made your heart grow softer, the way he always admired what you were wearing made your head fill with smoke. He is ethereal, and you never seized the opportunity to embrace that light he shone so brightly.

“Sshh! Don’t say that too loud or else we will get an early one,” you joked, feeling your heart race as your feet started to walk towards the firehouse entrance, leaning against the brick wall beside Cooper. Staring up at you, Cooper laughed so dreamily – music to your ears. He shook with his laughter, which you admired a lot. It wasn’t just a thoughtful reaction but, a mindless one. Everything was always so comical to Cooper, your talk backs and dad jokes. He admired them, and you loved the full body chuckle. Shaking his head, he slowly started to calm his laughter down as he leaned back into the steel chair, sighing out as he grabbed a rag from his side. Propping his helmet on his lap, Cooper started to wipe down the visor of soot from their last call uptown this morning, a two-alarm fire that thankfully no one was home for. Your eyes lost focus on Cooper’s face as he gripped his helmet hard – wiping in circular motions. His blue fire department shirt was rolled around the sleeves, highlighting the beautiful bulging of his biceps. It was soft yet hard; Easily bitable. You felt your mouth water at the thought, smirking inwardly at the idea of doing so.

“You’re fun, you know that?” Internally you cocked your eyebrow, not believing that in the slightest. Sure, you could have fun but, to the outside world? No way. That wasn’t reality. You were a wallflower, shy and quiet versus talkative and extroverted. No, this was only for Cooper – a side of yourself you never would’ve thought would come out as much as it did. Feeling your cheek heat from the compliment, you shied away in yourself for a moment, locking your eyes onto the ground by Cooper booted feet, loving to see the scuffs against the leather – proving how hard he was at work. In fact, you were so into the fantasy of him calling you fun and thinking about his boots, that you wondered what the leather would feel like rubbing against your cu-

“Ah, shit!” Cooper yelled out as he jumped out of his seat, causing you to jump back into reality. Stumbling backwards a bit from the scare, Cooper leaned forth to grab your arm – stopping you from falling. You didn’t quite understand what was happening at first when he grabbed you, but as your body evened out to the stumble, you noticed that the dark blue of Cooper’s shirt was now navy, soaked in liquid – the cleaner he was using. The pungent smell permeated your nostrils, making them flare slightly. Cooper ground his booted feet against the concrete floor, watching you intently as you caught your breath. But you could never bring your eyes to Cooper’s face, no, instead your eyes were fixated on Cooper’s chest. His sopping shirt clinging so well to his form. He was hard in some places, but soft in all the good spots. The soft pudge of his belly to the hardened contours of his sides made your mind go wild. That flush crept down your neck to your chest – suddenly causing your coat to feel too tight around you; Too warm. His nipples pebbled beneath the wetness as a cool breeze rolled through, causing him to shudder.

“Sorry about that, I hope I didn’t splash you,” Cooper spoke with remorse, grimacing at the idea of getting this stuff on you. Shaking your head as you cleared your throat – you closed your eyes momentarily. “Uhm, no…not that I could tell. I was too busy uh,” you began as you chuckled, waving your arms dramatically to signalize your almost fall. Cracking one eye open, you caught Cooper looking at you with a longing look – his head tilted to the side as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. The admiration in his eye lit you on fire, from the inside out. Those beautiful autumn night irises trailed up and down your body, focusing on your baren legs, then trailing up the expanse of your torso – flashing his teeth slightly with his lip bite. You could feel your fingers starting to shake at your side, the electricity between the two of you immaculate – ready to burst at the seams.

As Cooper’s eyes slid over your face, he came to the realization that you saw him check you out, causing his eyes to go wide for a moment before relaxing. A flush of pink tinged his cheeks cutely, causing that little color to make his eyes pop more. Letting go of his lip, he trailed his tongue over the puckered surface. He was holding something back; An internal fight with himself. God, you wanted him to just say it – to put an end to the pining. The tension, the quietness, it was too much. “I was planning on it being you that got me out of my shirt, not the cleaning products.” Cooper was nonchalant with how he spoke out, leaning against the lockers to the left of the firetruck. He used the tip of his elbow to click the garage switch – those giant doors starting to close now, putting the city away for the night so it was only you two. You were happy he did that, considering how loud the garage doors were going down, it masked the small moan you let out at his words.

You were in shock to say the least, not expecting sweet, delicate Cooper to say such a thing. I mean it was obvious you both have been playing the will they, won’t they card for months but – you thought it may have just been all in your head. “Excuse me?” You said quietly, keeping your eyes fixated on the concrete floor. You wouldn’t be able to control yourself if you looked up – your shy demeanor would fall since it was now just the two of you. There was a deeper side of yourself that was questioning all of this – if it was real, if it was in your head. It’s a fantasy to you, Cooper interested in you – a recently divorced man, bringing him back to his glory days. It wasn’t self-doubt or insecurity stopping you; You know you are beautiful, sexy, and hot – but you were afraid this was all a dream. A dream brought on by a fever or a daydream while you’re at work. But as you peered back up to meet Cooper’s attentive gaze, you knew this was real. “Honey, I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Cooper spoke so plainly, like nothing else in the world mattered within that moment. Only you did, only this moment did. “I could see it, still see it actually.” He used the rag in his hand to motion to your face in a circle, licking around the inside of his lip as he tried to find the next words. Slowly the gap between the two of you started to close, the air growing thicker and thicker as his body took up the empty space. The gentle pace at which he was going spoke measures, it was delicious – he was inevitable. “Your eyes speak the words you mouth will not.” Cooper brought his clean hand up to caress your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your soft skin. You couldn’t help but to lean in, letting the warmth of his palm envelop you. “That’s��very waxing poet of you.” Your words came out like it was never a question at all or have any hesitancy behind your words. They were true, cute, and most of all – funny.

The genuine belly laugh you got from Cooper caught you off guard - getting you off into a giggle fit. Hearing him let his true self out within that laugh made everything feel okay – the heavy sexual tension was blooming with free-spirited energy and such wholesome qualities; It made you feel so good. Bowing to you, he blew you air kisses as he slicked his hair back, nudging you with his shoulder. “Thank you,” he chortled, running a hand over his five o’clock shadow. The facial hair looked so good on him; Small specks of grey littered the edges, whilst his temple held all the rest. Grey looked so good on him; the color made him youthful in a way. “You know, I did major in poetry at school.” That was a shock to you; You never saw Cooper as the writer type but – more of an engineering background. The new tidbit of information made you question everything.

“Did you now?” You asked politely, crossing your arms over your chest. Biting his lip in your direction, Cooper leaned his arm directly above your head, looking down at you. Your eyes trailed up the inseam of his arm, seeing the light-colored veins under his skin, mixed with the intoxicating smell of his cologne. Your knees trembled the slightest bit as he stood over you, examining your face with precision. His gaze was intense, shifting from hazel to black almost immediately – his pupils taking up all the color. As he went to nod his head, he changed at the last second to a shake. “No, I went to a trade school but hey – I still dabble in a bit of Shakespeare.” He shrugged, doing the shrug smile with it. Rolling your eyes, you set your vision to the calendar hanging up on the other side of the fire station, trying to calm your heart rate from the proximity of Cooper.

He could tell your heart was racing, that your spine was growing tingling with emotion. To help quell the racing you were feeling, Cooper brought his hand back to your face, caressing your cheek as his lips were only a few inches from yours. “No, but seriously, though. I see the way you look at me.” He was so matter of fact with it, he wasn’t skating around anything anymore. He knew that he needed to speak the truth, to get across to you, because this would be the only chance he had while the guys were all playing pool downtown. “I don’t mean to be forward but, it feels good.” You made Cooper feel good, a feeling everyone deserves to have. You felt the pinprick of tears in the corner of your eyes as you smiled up at him, nudging your chin out for him to touch your lips. Cooper stayed where he was, not moving an inch, causing you to grow wanton. “Feeling wanted again.”

Deep seeded emotion found its way into his eyes, the glimmer of light reflecting off showcased the unshed tears he was holding back. With the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, you knew he was close to crying. But Cooper was not going to show that – no, instead he hissed as he pulled back, clearing his throat. A whimper slipped through his parted lips, which in turn caused you to clench your bare thighs together, swallowing down hard at the sound. You tried to be inconspicuous, so Cooper didn’t see; You were thankful his eyes were turned down. “Okay, yeah this is starting to burn,” he snickered out, grabbing at the end of his t-shirt with expert precision. Cooper whipped his shirt off quickly, small bits of chemical hitting the floor as it was removed. Your eyes went wide at the sight in front of you – showing off all the hard and soft parts of Cooper’s torso you saw earlier. This time his skin was pinkened by the exposure to the cleaner, but it didn’t take away from him at all. The happy trail leading right to his belt buckle; His chest hair spread across him in the sexiest way.

Cooper grabbed a clean rag from his locker and doused it with a water bottle, groaning as the burning got more intense. The way the liquid was about to glide over his abs, made your eyes vibrate. You felt your demeanor slipping at an alarming rate, knowing you were about to cross a line you wouldn’t come back from. “Do you want me to hose you down?” Your joke was a tight delivery, considering you couldn’t stop watching Cooper run the wet towel down his stomach, soaking up any bits of the chemicals. You felt your eyes waver heavily as your arousal grew, which caused you to stare at Cooper. His own eyes were obsidian, black around all edges – a man pained with arousal. Smirking in such a sinister way, he nodded at you – flicking the wet cloth in your direction. “Depends, you going to show me what you have hiding under that coat?”

That was it for you – you knew you were never coming back. Cooper Adams metaphorically saw what you had underneath, that lacy red number you bought a while ago. You had nowhere to wear it, and no one to wear it for. But you didn’t care – it made you feel sexy, enticing, plus it was a little incentive for Cooper in hindsight. His red iPhone gave away his favorite color, and tonight he happened to be all alone. It wasn’t planned in the slightest but, you were hoping. When you saw Cooper sitting alone tonight, you hoped no one else was there. After an hour and no one, you knew it was your time to make the call. Twisting side to side in your spot, you moved forward into Cooper’s space, giving your best innocent eyes you could muster as Cooper placed his hand on your hip, smoothing the other down your arm. “You’re not as sneaky as you might think, love.” The whispered tone in which he spoke to you made your body shudder under his touch; His lips pressed sweetly to the shell of your ear, letting his plush skin rest easily against you. He could feel the tremor in your body as his lips laid a peaceful kiss to your ear, moaning slightly into you. “I wasn’t-“ you managed to start but, alas gave up halfway through.

“Oh you were, don’t be shy, darling.” His tone shifted from calm to desperate very quick – a little tease at the end to sweeten the deal. The hand that rested against your hip scooted around to your lower back, running a finger up and down your spine. The other hand resting against your arm snaked to the back of your neck, rubbing at the nape. Quickly you were pulled flush against Cooper, feeling his bulging jeans press firmly against your stomach, causing your breath to waver. His lips only inches from yours; If you tilted your head up, you would be able to just feel him and every dream he could give you. “You were hoping that tonight, of all nights, would be the time you finally got a taste of me.” He read you like a book, because this is exactly what it was. What it all looked like, it was exactly what you needed.

Cooper let both of his hands trail over your clothed body, bringing them around to your front. Each finger admired the curves on you, the soft and supple skin hiding beneath. All he could think about doing was sinking his teeth in and leaving his mark on you. The beige trench coat you wore was adorned in front by the belt – to which you had tied into a bow. Thick, calloused fingers made their way to the simple knot, gently tugging on the longer end, teasing you. Cooper’s eyes remained on your front; mouth ajar whilst the soft fabric started to sway with the tension. You had half a mind to pull yourself back, forcing him to undo it quicker but – where was the fun in that? Cooper wouldn’t have it either, no, he would make your life a living hell if you did that. This was all about the chase, never the end – but you knew it was going to be worth it.

As you were about to speak, the last of the knot fell out in front of you, leaving just the first loop around. Cooper’s agile fingers worked diligently to undo it, letting the belt fall to your side, brushing past your exposed thighs. Taking in the sight of you fully clothed, Cooper took a deep breath as he let his left-hand swing back your coat, now being able to see the glory underneath. The teddy lingerie you were wearing didn’t leave much to the imagination, in fact it gave Cooper the eyeful he had been dying for since day one. You caught his eye, being so adorable and shy, he knew he had to have you. Letting out a low wolf whistle, he took in the gorgeous sight in front of him. Breasts were uncovered due to the structure of the lingerie but held up just nicely due to the underwiring. A keyhole slit sat against the front of your stomach, highlighting its softened nature. Cooper though was drawn to the open slit between your legs where it would be covered, growing harder by the second knowing your cunt has been free this whole night.

“Well, you’d be right,” Cooper stated huskily, rubbing his thumb against the side of your breast. You gasped at the soft touch, shivering under his finger as the cold air of the firehouse nipped at your exposed skin. Everything in you broke, that small thin thread that had been holding you together – completely unraveled. Cooper didn’t waste another second as he leaned forth to capture your neck between his lips, greedily biting at your supple flesh. The moan that ripped from your throat caused Cooper to grow feral; Your back pushed against the lockers next to the firetruck, the cold in perfect contrast with your heated skin. Your hands tangled in Cooper’s soft hair, tugging at the root for him to move his lips upward. You could feel the heat of his bites against your neck, knowing you’d be wearing his mark for days.

Once your lips finally hit Cooper’s, everything you had been holding back on came to fruition. It was unlike anything you had experienced within a kiss. It wasn’t all lips, teeth, and spit like you were used to, it was primal yet possessive. It reminded of the first rainfall of Summer; The air slightly too thick as it crests, skies turning grey at the drop of a hat. But through all that muck and heat you feel it – the cold, crisp drops of rain against your bated skin, absorbing into you – becoming one. The smell around you amplifying the sensation; Goosebumps rising against your flesh as you cool from the inside out. Safe, you’re safe. You’re okay. You’re at peace. It wasn’t like a traditional kiss, it felt more. Cooper must’ve felt it too because his hands pushed you further against his lips, caressing your neck as the fingers of his left hand squeezed your breast lovingly.

He was a man on a mission, a man intoxicated by your touch, how you felt, and everything that encompassed you. He wanted to get drunk off you, and swim in that loving pool of your soul, and never surface again. For the last few months, he felt so unloved, unwanted, embarrassed because of how Rachel treated him. It made him feel insecure, like he wasn’t worthy of that kind of love. But that flew right out the window the second he got you in his hands, knowing that you weren’t going to leave – that you were going to be forever to him. It made you feel lightheaded the amount of passion Cooper was exuding towards you – like you were his lifeline in this cruel world. You brought your leg up around Cooper’s hip to get him further, wanting to feel the full, covered length of him Not wanting to tease you any longer, Cooper grabbed at your baren thigh and hiked it up higher, making sure to spread your pussy enough to feel the cold breeze.

“But I need to taste you first.” He finally spoke again, making you forget his earlier sentence. The thought of Cooper’s mouth on your cunt was enough to make you cry – you needed it bad; you needed him biblically. Nodding against his lips at his words, you placed one of your hands on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around him. Cooper grabbed at the plushness of your thigh, placing it gently onto the bench to your side as he maintained eye contact. Not once in his slow descent down did he ever look away – always keeping his eyes on you, watching how you shivered with delight. His thick fingers ran down your skin like he was starving – hungry for you and only you, bringing a part of his life back he thought was long gone.

As Cooper came face to face with your wet cunt, the reservations he had about going too fast slipped away – he was like a man starved, your folds were the only thing he needed to survive. Cooper’s mouth was only mere inches away from your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your soaked lips. Wasting not a single moment more, Cooper dove into your sweet cunt like a man starved, hungrily lapping at your puffy folds. You screamed out in pure bliss at the feeling, his tongue working your clit in harsh circles, using his two longest fingers to circle your entrance, never did he attempt to push them inside of you. It was only a mere distraction for the fact that he was sucking your clit as if it was a hard candy.

The harsh clash of his lips and the slight grazing of his teeth sent you into an overdrive. So many feelings were flooding through your body, as if ice water had been tossed all over you. It was a pure feeling nonetheless, something so brilliant and rough - you didn't want to give it up. You brought your hands up to rake through Cooper’s locks, yanking harshly at the root as your nails dug into his scalp. The growl he let out into your cunt was feral, yet animalistic. In this moment you both were not humans, but two animals in the jungle, fucking like the world was going to end. “God, you taste so fucking good.”

There was nothing soft or human-like about this, it was pure primal. Cooper’s tongue lapped and flicked over your clit like water, his eyes watching yours as your face turned up in pleasure, wails of pure bliss exiting your mouth. Cooper took you by surprise when he shoved three of his long, thick digits into the cavern of your wet cunt - plowing them in and out of you with wreck less abandon. You were not moaning anymore, you were fully screaming in ecstasy over the brutal fucking you were getting. “I’m here baby, no need for tears,” Tears fell down from your eyes with ease pass of his fingers over that spongy spot - spurring your orgasm on like it was nothing. “You’re safe. Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Come on princess, you can give it to me.”

It's then that your body jolted off of the lockers with a wail of pleasure, neck tightening as you tried too hard to remain in control. “That’s my good fucking girl, you’re squeezing the shit out of me.” Cooper’s brutal pace of his fingers and tongue did not let up, not until you were screaming the safe word. Just then he got a great idea; His fingers kept moving at a rapid speed but his mouth was replaced with his other hand - using them entire pad of his palm to rub your clit quicker. He had a better use for his mouth, placing it on the apex of your thigh, and clamping his teeth harshly around the skin. Not hard enough to break it but, enough to make a welt and bruise form. It was sexy, you've never seen a man like this. “You make me insane, you know that? I am fucking mad for you.” Cooper’s grunts - the sensation of pain mixed with pleasure as your orgasm never faded, instead only growing stronger. The flex of your lower belly came in tune with the vice-like grip of your cunt, your hands twisted smacked hard against the lockers behind you, eyes rolling into the back of your head. It was then, the floodgates broke.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You screamed out, a new sensation to your orgasm came forth, sending you into a spiral of the unknown. It felt like a bubble burst deep within you, enough to make you scream. "That’s it babydoll, just let go." Cooper huskily let out, letting his hands work in tandem with each other. The rapid movements on your clit and g-spot made you sob into the open air, your orgasm causing your entire body to be jelly-like. “That’s a good girl, you’re so perfect. You’re everything to me.” Your brain was nonexistent, all you could hear was the sloppy wet sound of your cunt being wrung out, and Cooper’s primal growls. Looking down at Cooper, you watched as the thickness of his fingers disappearing inside of your cunt, your orgasm soaking not just his hands, but his chest and stomach - eyes black as the sky above. There were so many things you wanted to say, but could not get them out - you were too far gone to speak. Cooper saw that you were twitching aimlessly, and took it as a sign to spot. Abruptly pulling his hands from your core, Cooper shoved his fingers into his mouth, sloppily sucking them clean as you watched with fervor.

You were a mess, one you knew you weren’t going to be coming back from anytime soon. It was too much – everything that you had been wanting played out, and yet still so much more needed to be said. “Coop! Why are you still here, my dude!” The young voice brought you out of your high, causing your eyes to focus back in on Cooper’s face – the front of his chest soaked with your essence. The gentle laugh emanating from the back of the firehouse made you shy away, feeling you turn in on yourself. Cooper didn’t get what was happening at first, not until the heavy bootsteps started to come towards you, making him scramble up on cracking knees. “Shit!” He let out in a whisper, the silent scream obvious as he wasted no time to grab your jacket – holding it closed on you as the footsteps haltered. “Oh hey ma-“ The young firefighter started, looking up from his phone at the same time. What he was met with, was the image of Cooper’s front pressed against you, your face heating with arousal and nerves as you buried it into Cooper’s neck, smelling a hard days work on his skin. Cooper flashed his coworker a taut smile, waving with his freehand, hoping he wouldn’t say anything. “Oh my god did you get laid?!” He yelled out, smacking the back of his phone against his hand as you erupted into a fit of laughter. You shook in Cooper’s arms as he laughed out loud as well, realizing there was no point of hiding it now. Looking up at Cooper, you watched as he slowly nodded towards his coworker, a few unruly strands of hair falling into his face.

Without missing a beat, the firefighter came over and smacked Cooper on his bare shoulders, going to his locker directly next to you and grabbing out his backpack. “Cooper, you’re my fucking hero dude!” He yelled as he ran out through the side entrance, waving off his fire chief, leaving you both alone again. The giggle fit going through the both of you made for a fun way to decompress after having the best orgasm of your life. No man had ever made you cum so hard – so precisely as well. It was like Cooper took you apart, and rebuilt you over and over; Each wave being harder than the last. Cooper took a deep breath in as he pressed his heated forehead to yours, the flush on his cheeks working its way back. “Let’s finish this at my house. Riley and Logan are staying with their mom this weekend.” You weren’t going to pass on this opportunity – especially now that you learned the names of his kids. It was a weird feeling, for both of you. Cooper never disclosed information about his kids to anyone – only those who he deemed important. He knew you were, and were going to be in his life for a while. He could already tell by the way you carried yourself - they were going to love you as much as he could.

Nodding your head against Cooper, you pecked him gently on the lips – lingering for a moment and just focusing on the feeling. “I’m down, let me pack a bag.” The snicker Cooper omitted at your sentence made you perk up, cocking an eyebrow in his direction. Running his warm fingers over your cheeks, he grasped your chin firmly, yet soft – peering down into your eyes. “Oh sweetheart, that’s cute,” he began, biting at his bottom lip. The swirls of colors in your eyes caused his to ignite, flecks of reds and golds flitting around in his irises. His lips grazed your lips as he smirked, licking at you while he continued. “You’re not going to need anything when I am done with you.” Cooper whispered sensually, causing your cunt to pulsate. A weekend without clothes, Cooper between your thighs – was the best way to ring in the fall.

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fablefrogg · 2 months ago

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Why Does Will Byers Bring His Painting? (To the Airport and On Their Road-Trip)

I think it's so interesting that Will decided to paint the DnD party as a gift for Mike.

Since he brought the painting with him to the airport, we know that Will was definitely NEVER going to confess his feelings to Mike since he has very much resigned himself to the idea that Mike is straight and is in love with El (and El, Jonathan, and Argyle are also there with him so we can safely assume that he had never meant for his painting to be given in a romantic light).

Rather, Will brings the painting to the airport as a surprise for Mike in the hopes of reconciling their friendship.

Will, most likely, had intended the painting to be a friendly gift for Mike and it wouldn't be out of the ordinary, considering that Will has given Mike plenty of his artwork in the past (shown by Mike's binder of Will's drawings in S1 and how some are put up in his basement).

We know that they left on good terms at the end of S3 when the Byers move away, with a heartfelt conversation that Will would always stay with their original party and a good-bye hug. However, we also know that their contacting each other lessened as the months passed, as revealed by their fight in Rink O' Mania.

But I'm getting too far ahead of myself. Let's go back to the airport reunion before Rink O' Mania happened.

With the previous information now at our disposal, we are in the know that Will and Mike's last few interactions before their airport reunion have been few and far in-between. We don't really have a clue on how their phone calls went but it seems that they were still on good terms, considering Will's very happy expression on his face as he waits for Mike to arrive. But again, we know that Will is aware that their contact has been dwindling when he confronts Mike about it later on in the skating rink.

With this awareness, I believe that Will wanted to make sure that their friendship is still intact, even after the little communication they've had since the Byers move to California. That their strong friendship will continue to exist even if they were separated.

His answer to repairing their friendship was going to be his DnD painting. This painting must have taken a while to complete, a small signifier showing how long and often Will has thought about this. It is no coincidence that he chose the DnD party as his subject for his painting since their last in-person interaction is when Mike asks whether Will is going to join a new party and Will replies that that's not possible. By painting their DnD party, Will is basically referring back to that interaction and expressing to Mike that he didn't forget about them and that he never will, even after all this time and distance.

Which is why it's heartbreaking when Mike rejects Will's hug at the airport.

Since Mike is acting cold towards him, Will believes that Mike may not actually be receptive to his painting and his message behind it, so he (understandably) opts to not give the painting to him, referring to it as simply "just a painting". If Mike hadn't apologized to Will after their Rink O' Mania fight, I think that Will would have hidden that painting away where it will gather dust and never see the light of day.

Now, what is very interesting is that Will chooses to bring his painting again, this time on their road trip to get El back. But you may ask: Mike and Will have already reconciled their friendship when they have their heart-to-heart in Will's room so what else would be the reason to bring it?

Because now that he is assured in knowing that Mike has actually been wanting to reconcile with Will, expressing to him that Hawkins isn't the same without Will and that Mike felt like he lost him, Will deems it safe to bring it again. After all, judging by El's letter to Mike that Will has been working on it for weeks, Will wants to make it clear to Mike that even though Mike initiated their reconciliation, Will isn't passive in their friendship. Will is not someone who initiates so he shows in his own way that he does care. This painting proves that he's been thinking about them ALL THIS TIME. This friendship is just as important to him as it is to Mike.

However, as the road trip goes on, Will sees that Mike is worried and stressed about El and whether she really needs him through their heart-to-heart at the junkyard. Will probably thought that it would be insensitive to give him that painting now when it seems clear that Mike is in emotional turmoil about El and that he doesn't have much room to think about anything else. Again, he was NEVER going to confess his feelings with the painting. At this point in the road trip, he has already offered much relationship advice to Mike about El so we know he is supporting Mike and El's relationship.

Will had meant to use his painting to reconcile their friendship. Instead, he uses his painting to repair Mike's relationship with El.

After all, they have already technically reconciled their friendship, so Mike doesn't need the painting as more reassurance for that, right?

'What Mike needs is to know that he will always be needed and that he is so, so important to not just El but to the whole party. He is the heart, he's always been. I can't help much but this, I can do.'

So, Will resolves himself to be the initiator this time, giving Mike his painting on the basis that 'El had commissioned him' so that Mike can understand the inherent self-worth he has and how much he has impacted Will by making him feel better for being different. He not only expresses these feelings but his love for Mike under the guise of El's, knowing that he is helping Mike and El reconcile and that they will be stronger than ever once they do.

He knows that there is nothing to be gained from confessing his feelings. But by actually saying his feelings for Mike out loud to the very same person, Will has given these feelings corporeal form. Now, another person knows (to an extent) about his true feelings, and Will cannot take them back. And by acknowledging his love for Mike, he also has to acknowledge, by association, that Mike will never reciprocate back because Mike is in love with El and even if he wasn't, Will would never be the recipient of Mike's love. Of course, Will has already known this but expressing out loud to the person you are in love with feels final. Finished.

It is at this point that Will isn't only actively supporting Mike and El's relationship. This is Will Byers fully giving up.

But now, his lie about his painting is up in the air.

I'd guess that in the final season, Will is never going to confess his feelings and that he resolves to hide them. But just like how Mike initiates many of their moments together, I believe Mike will confront Will about this and bring Will's feelings to light, sooner or later. And I think that Will Byers is going to be in for a big surprise.

Edit: Forgot to mention, the throw-away line in the van scene where Will talks about going to Las Vegas and playing DnD and Nintendo for the rest of their lives is a call-back to the rain fight where Will said that they could just play games in Mike's basement for the rest of their lives. In both cases, playing games for the rest of their lives is a metaphor for Will's wish to spend the rest of their life together and to grow old together. So the fact that Will lies about his DnD painting for Mike and El's relationship could symbolize him giving up that dream.

#byler #stranger things analysis #will byers #will byers analysis #mike wheeler #stranger things 4 #stranger things

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starlightkun · 1 month ago

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⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst ⇢ warnings: blood/injury mentions, a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places ⇢ extra info: this is the second part of a two-part fic, you need to read the first part to know what’s going on! this was released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) ⇢ author’s note: and here’s part two! ⇢ part one

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

The screen of your phone lit up from where it sat on the dashboard of Jungwoo’s spaceship, and you immediately grabbed it. It was Donghyuck, and at this point, you would’ve taken your bestie ‘SPAM LIKELY’ to get you out of here.

“Hey, it’s Hyuck, you got it here?” You asked Jungwoo, already on your feet.

“Yes, I’ll be okay,” Jungwoo confirmed, eyes momentarily leaving the screen to meet yours.

You clambered out of the hatch with haste, taking off into the trees. Hastily sending Donghyuck a text that you’d call him back in a minute, you practically bolted back up the cliffside to get to the road before doing just that.

Hyuck picked up before it could even ring once, not wasting any time, “Hey, how’s our pet alien?”

“He has a name,” you retorted, still out of breath.

“He doesn’t seem to mind when I call him that.”

“He probably doesn’t understand how derogatory it could be. His language might not have a direct equivalent for the concept.”

“Yeah, whatever, how is he?”

“Fine. All of his wounds have healed.”

Your friend’s tone immediately shifted. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” You insisted.

“Y/N.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Sure.”

And so after explaining your situation to Donghyuck to the best of your ability, you waited with bated breath for his response.

“Oh my God, he’s going to lay his eggs in you,” he gasped.

“Hyuck! Gross!” You hissed, half-ready to hang up right then.

“I’ve seen enough alien movies to know where this is going.”

“Or watched too much weird porn.”

“You didn’t laugh at my joke, clearly you’re in crisis, sorry.” His apology sounded sincere.

You sighed, staring down into the trees below you that you knew contained a spaceship and spaceman that weren’t from here, that didn’t belong here. “I mean, he’s still fixing his ship to leave…”

“What if he plans on abducting you and taking you with him?”

“Stop it!” You scolded him again. “Jungwoo wouldn’t do that.”

“You seriously think he’ll just leave his mate behind?”

“You are way too comfortable saying that word.”

“This is not about my nighttime proclivities.”

“If I told him to, yeah, I think he would. He’s been super respectful, all things considered.”

“Okay… whatever…”

You were worried. Jungwoo had continued fixing his ship, but with each passing day, you swore he was looking worse again. He said his wounds had completely healed inside and out, but the pallor of his skin didn’t look right, he was moving slower again, and he didn’t eat as much at meals. You took a risk and took him there during the day today, not wanting to risk drawing out his stay on Earth any longer than necessary.

Just getting him down to the ship today was perilous, as he tripped going down the last of the hillside. A rock had cut his arm, thankfully not very deep, but the sight of the deep blue blood did nothing to calm your anxious mind. He let you take a second to use a first aid kit in the ship on him, but then was right back to business as usual, fixing his ship.

“How’s it coming along?” You asked, hovering over him worriedly as he sat on the floor, working on a panel under the control console.

“It’s almost done,” he informed you quietly.

“Jungwoo, you don’t look okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Is it the hydrogen? Or something else that you can’t get on Earth?” You went to press the back of your hand to his forehead. It was sticky with sweat, but simultaneously cold and clammy. “Shit, dude, you feel awful.”

“I’m—I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I just need to get back to-to Galaria.”

“Okay, yeah,” you nodded. “Let’s get you back. You said it’s almost done. What else do you need?”

“One of your friends is a mechanic?”

“Yeah, Yuta. He fixes cars.” You were slightly alarmed that he apparently couldn’t remember which one.

Jungwoo held out a long, thin black tube to you. “Could you ask him if he has something like this? Twice as long?”

“Of course! I'll go right now!” You took the tube from him. “You stay right here. Rest, okay?”

He nodded, leaning against the panel and shutting his eyes.

You ran into Yuta’s auto shop, skidding to a stop and nearly crashing into a bench and toolbox, drawing the attention of everyone in the shop. Every head whipped over to look at you, and Yuta pushed himself out from under a truck on the far side of the shop.

“Yuta!” You dashed over to him, ignoring the attempts at conversation from his coworkers as you ran by them.

“Off-limits, assholes!” Yuta yelled back at them before focusing on you again, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands off. “Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Jungwoo, he needs something like this, but double the length.” You held the tube out to him. “Do you have anything like it? I’ll pay for it.”

Yuta inspected it with a furrowed brow, and you dropped your voice even lower as the sounds of the auto shop rose again.

“Please, he’s-he’s really not doing well. I don’t know how much longer he can be here, Yuta. Something about Earth, it’s not good for him. I’m really worried.”

“Yeah, I would be if I were you.” Yuta handed the tube back to you, then crossed his arms over his chest. “I gave him a part just like that two days ago. He said it was the last piece he needed.”

“What?!” Your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

“I gave him a new brake hose two days ago. Unless he blew it up again, this isn’t it.”

“I’ve got to go.” You took off towards the door of the garage. “Bye, Yuta! Thanks!”

“See you around!”

Something wasn’t right. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach as you looked down at the brake hose in your hands. You could feel it in the deep rumble of the pavement under your feet as you ran down the shoulder of the highway back towards the ship. You could feel it in your lungs as you sucked in air that smelled oddly smoky. There was no caution in your movements as you took the familiar path down into the trees. Sirens followed behind you from all directions, converging on the same place as you. But you had gotten there before them.

The ship pulsated with an energy you had never seen before, no longer dull dark metal, but thrumming with power, colorful bursts of light jumping from panel to panel. The reactors at the back that you had watched Jungwoo rebuild with his own two hands roared to life.

No friends to grab you and hold you back now. It was only you.

You lunged for the button that you knew would extend the ladder, throwing the hose to the ground so you could have two free hands to scramble up the side of the ship. At the cockpit, you held onto the top rung of the ladder as the ship jerked and lifted off the ground. You desperately hit the other button to open the glass hatch, dropping into the cockpit and pulling the dome shut with you.

Jungwoo was crumpled in a heap on the ground in front of the controls, not even in a seat. Thankfully, he took a small, shallow breath. The ship accelerated, throwing the both of you across the cockpit. You swore as your head impacted with the wall, and Jungwoo grunted as he hit another panel.

“What the hell is your problem, Jungwoo?” You chastised him as you rolled him over. “You tell me you’ve imprinted on me, then send me off on a wild goose chase so that you can leave without saying goodbye? And then you fucking pass out?”

“Y/N?” He mumbled, slowly blinking a couple times as he looked up at you. “That’s… you?”

“Yes, you dumbass,” you scoffed, pulling his head onto your lap as you were truly just relieved to see his eyes open again. “Now come on, don’t fall asleep on me again.”

“Mm… yes… it’ll be nice… I think… to die in your arms.”

“Christ, you’re so dramatic,” you rolled your eyes to not give away how fast your heart was beating, how sweaty your palms were, or that your hands were shaking with nerves. “You’re not going to die. You hear me? It looks like you’ve already put in directions back home, right? To Galaria? Please tell me this thing has autopilot.”

“Yes. Provided… there are no… unexpected emergencies…” He took several uneven, short breaths. “The ship… will take care of it…”

“Awesome. How often are there unexpected emergencies in intergalactic travel?”

Jungwoo was out cold.

You hung your head, letting out a deep sigh. “Cool. Great. Nice one, Y/N. Stuck on a spaceship that you don’t know how to fly. In space. With a half-dead alien. Stellar life choices, as always.”

You had no clue how much time had passed since you’d left Earth. There were no clocks—at least not ones that you could read—in Jungwoo’s ship, and your spaceman stayed knocked out, never coming close to consciousness. You got hungry at some point, but you couldn’t find any food, or least anything that you would risk eating this early. Maybe if it really felt dire. You hadn’t stocked Jungwoo up with supplies yet, you thought you had more time. Was he really planning on leaving like that?

A pleasant dinging came over the speakers of the ship eventually, reminding you of the sound that played over plane intercoms when an announcement was made. A computerized voice said something, but you realized you couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t make out a single word or syllable. It must be speaking Galarii. Nothing was flashing red, hopefully it wasn’t anything that required your assistance.

It felt like the ship was slowing down. You held onto Jungwoo’s lifeless body tightly to brace the two of you. He was still warm, and you took a small comfort in that.

With another jerk and cacophonous rattle, the ship touched down. You were pretty sure. The hum of the reactors died down, and it felt like the ship had finally stopped. Jungwoo let out a weak sound of pain in your arms, and you were on your feet.

You slammed your hand against the button to open the hatch with none of the grace that you’d seen Jungwoo use dozens of times. Tugging the transcoder off his neck, you put it on yourself before wedging your shoulder under his, planting your foot on a seat cushion, and heaving upwards with as much force as you could. Either the gravity on Galaria was different, you were having an adrenaline rush, or both, as Jungwoo’s body actually moved with you. You jerked both of you up onto the ladder, yelling in between deep breaths.

“Help!” Shove. “Help us!” Heave. “Help! Somebody!” Push. “Help!”

After the next jump, your head poked out of the cockpit. Immediately, you were met with winds that whipped your hair around and chilled you to the bone. You took as deep of a breath that you could, the frosty air feeling like knives in your lungs, to let out another cry, “Help!”

The lilac sky was barely visible through the snow that flurried around your face, sticking to your skin and hair. Two figures appeared through the snowstorm, approaching the spaceship, and you readjusted your hold on Jungwoo to lean his weight back on you to free up one arm to wave at them fervently.

“Over here!” You screamed. “Help us! Please!”

Jungwoo coughed, blue blood dribbling out of his mouth.

“Oh god…” You cupped his cerulean-stained cheek, panic flooding your heart as you saw the two figures stop in their tracks.

Heaving the two of you over the side in the quickest way you knew to get down, you slid down the ship, the fresh snow that had piled up breaking your fall about as well as Donghyuck had before. The impact rattled up your feet and knees, and you swore under your breath as you definitely heard something pop that had never popped before. Wrapping Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders, you started dragging him towards the two figures.

“Hey!” You yelled out at them, glaring against the snow and wind. Tears streamed down your face as the wind battered your eyes, and your teeth were already chattering. “What the hell are you doing? He’s fucking dying! Help him!”

This finally spurred them into moving again, the figures rushing towards you once more. As they got closer, you could see that they were human-like—Galarii, presumably. They were bundled up for the weather, goggles and cloth masks obscuring much of their faces from you, but as they reached to take Jungwoo from you, a sudden fear seized you, and you jerked back from them at the last second, tightening your hold on him.

They must have been able to guess what spooked you, as one lifted up his goggles and pulled down his mask to let you see his face as he addressed you.

“I’m Kun. That’s my aide, Dejun,” he indicated to himself, then to the other Galarii. “I’m Jungwoo’s brother. Please.”

You looked between them for a moment, then nodded. They moved to each take one of his arms and loop it around their shoulders. You stayed close as they trudged through the snowstorm with him, your worried eyes staying on Jungwoo. Your feet were entirely numb, and you didn’t register when one of the caught on something under the snow until you were already catapulting forward face-first. Your hands were tucked under your arms, and you couldn’t get them out fast enough to break your fall. Kun thankfully had faster reflexes than you, and managed to catch you by the arm, leaving you suspended above the snowbank for a perilous moment. He jerked you back until you got your feet under you again, and you mumbled out a thank you that was muted by the winds. Looking over your shoulder, your knees nearly gave out again when you saw the trail of blue drops that Jungwoo was leaving behind.

Kun once again grabbed your arm, and you looked at him inquisitively, coming to a stop as they did. You were in front of a cliffside by the ocean, which was in fact a cotton candy pink, no buildings in sight. The sea spray stung your eyes, made them water up, and you did your best to cover them without entirely obscuring your vision.

Dejun approached the rock wall as Kun took on all of Jungwoo’s weight. You heard a faint groan, and you weren’t sure which of them it came from, but you moved to take over where Dejun had just been. Jungwoo was no longer warm.

Dejun touched his own pendant to part of the stone, and you swore you saw something glow, but that could’ve been the refraction of light off the waves into your pupils, you couldn’t be sure. An opening formed in the cliffside, and Dejun ushered the three of you in. As soon as you stepped in, it didn’t feel like you were underground, or inside a cliff. It just seemed like you were indoors. Sure, it was dim, but pleasantly so, like it was evening. It was also warm, which you were glad for. You readjusted your hold on Jungwoo, pressing your hand against his chest for some stability, the right side of his chest, desperately hoping that maybe you could feel his heartbeat finally. You couldn’t.

Dejun didn’t request to take Jungwoo back from you though his hands hovered around you uncertainly, as if he were about to. You weren’t sure if you would’ve let him this time. Instead, he simply led the way through the sprawling home you had found yourself in. You didn’t pay attention much to your surroundings, only enough to make sure you weren’t going to trip while you carried Jungwoo. Finally, you made it to a bedroom of some kind, and Kun motioned for you to put him down on the bed there.

Kun took off some of his outer layers, letting you see his face again for the first time since he found the two of you at the ship. Dejun reentered the room—you didn’t realize he had left—also no longer in his thick parka and carrying what must be a first aid kit, handing it off to Kun.

“What’s your name?” Kun asked, his eyes focused on the materials in his hands.

At first, you couldn’t talk, your throat too dry from the cold air outside. You desperately swallowed and coughed, then hoarsely said, “Y/N.”

Dejun poured you a glass of something from a jug in the corner, and you looked it over. It looked like water to you, and you remembered that Jungwoo didn’t seem put off by what water looked like on Earth. You took a tentative sip. Tasted like nothing. It soothed your raw throat a little bit, and you drank some more.

“My name’s Y/N,” you reiterated, then faltered as you looked at Jungwoo. “I’m… Jungwoo’s friend. He crashed on Earth, we were helping him get back. But then he started getting like this. You can help him, right?”

Kun gently tilted his brother’s head back and forth, the prevalent frown on his features only deepening. “Dejun, some help?”

The aide came over, and the two of them lifted Jungwoo’s shirt up over his head. You gasped when you saw some bruising on his back and side, presumably from when he hit the wall when you took off from Earth. But the two Galarii didn’t focus on that. Their attention was on his shoulders instead, having a hushed conversation between themselves.

“Is his shoulder okay?” You asked. “Is it broken or something?”

“His joint is fine,” Dejun reassured you.

“Oh, good.”

“Y/N,” he said your name quietly, eyes focused on your leg. “You’re bleeding. I think.”

You looked down at your still-numb extremities, registering for the first time that you had apparently been cut by something outside. Bright red dripped down the side of your left leg, and you held back the instinct to touch it in disbelief.

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologized, as you noticed a spot on the floor. “Uhm, do you have a band-aid?”

“Follow me, we’ll get it cleaned up and give you some new clothes.”

You looked at Jungwoo anxiously, where Kun was still tending to him. “I’m fine.”

“He’ll still be here, Y/N,” Kun promised. “I’m sure my brother would want us to take care of his friend too.”

Reluctantly, you went with Dejun into an adjoining room. After getting your cut washed out and a bandage applied, he fetched you some warmer clothes.

“Thanks, Dejun.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “Can I go back?”

“Sure. I’ll bring you some food.”

Stepping back into the room, you saw Kun cleaning up Jungwoo’s face and chest where his blood had begun drying.

“Can I help?” You offered tentatively.

Kun waved you over. “His head keeps lolling around. Can you keep him still?”

“Of course.” You sat on the corner of the bed, gently rearranging Jungwoo to cradle the back of his head with both your hands in your lap. Brushing some of his hair from his face, you took comfort in watching the shallow but steady rise and fall of his chest. “Is that better?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“His iridophores don’t look right.” You stated, able to see the reflective patches on his cheeks and shoulders from this angle. “That’s what you’re worried about, right?”

Kun nodded. “Yes.”

“They’re… dull.” You kept your hands where they were. The realization did nothing to soothe you. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t say.”

“What can it mean?” You asked insistently, eye boring holes into the top of Kun’s head as he was bent over focusing rather intently on one spot. “On Earth, one symptom can mean a lot of things. What can dull iridophores be a symptom of?”

“We won’t know anything until he wakes up,” Kun reiterated, soaking and wringing out the washcloth one final time. His eyes met yours, his own iridophores glinting in the lights. “Please, I don’t want to speculate before then.”

“Fine. Okay,” you relented for now.

The Galarii’s gaze fell to the pendant around your neck. “That’s Jungwoo’s transcoder.”

You looked down at it as well. “Yeah. I figured I needed it more than him right now. You know, considering…”

“Has he explained to you how it works?”

“Telepathy. Which he told me is apparently very scientific to you all, and definitely not witchcraft,” you snorted.

Dejun entered, a plate of food in his hand. Kun nodded towards it for you. “Eat.”

You sighed, pressing your hand to Jungwoo’s cheek once more. He wasn’t ice cold anymore, but still felt clammy to the touch. Maneuvering his head back to the pillow, you moved over to the table where Dejun had set the food for you. It all seemed food-like, and if your attention wasn’t so focused on your spaceman, you were sure you would be much more enthralled by eating alien food right now. But you could barely even taste it as you wolfed down a few bites, then a few more when Kun was still carefully watching you. When he seemed satisfied that you were fed, you pushed the plate away.

“Full,” you mumbled. “Thank you.”

Dejun and Kun exchanged a look, but didn’t say anything.

“Do you know when he’ll wake up?” You asked. “Don’t you guys have like, doctors or something? Healers? I don’t know, any sort of healthcare?”

“His iridophores… doctors can’t help with that,” Kun explained, obviously choosing his words very carefully. “We have to see if Jungwoo will pull through on his own.”

“That’s it?!” You spat back, wide-eyed. Maybe your tone was a bit harsh, but you couldn’t believe that they apparently didn’t even need a real doctor to examine him to give a diagnosis like that.

“Y/N—”

“But he’s—He was fine just a few days ago…” You stared at him in disbelief. “We got ice cream…”

“I’ll have Dejun make a room up for you, Y/N,” Kun said, gently patting your shoulder as they moved towards the exit.

“Kun.” You grabbed his arm before he got too far. He turned around to look at you inquisitively. “I’m sorry. He’s your brother, this must be painful for you too. Really, I’m so sorry.”

He offered a melancholy smile, nodding. “Thank you.”

You couldn’t sleep that night, kept up thinking about Jungwoo. Finally, after too much restless tossing and turning, you got out of bed. Wandering down the halls of whatever cave house you were in, you turned your phone on. Of course you didn’t have service inside a cliff in another galaxy. Coming to a stop in some sort of open living space, you sat down onto something that you were going to call a loveseat, which overlooked a small pool of water that seemed to glow on its own. You stared at your zero bars, thought about Jungwoo dying, being on a planet in a galaxy far away from your friends and family, and for possibly the first time in your entire life, felt so lonely you could cry.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you buried your face in them, feeling so small and wanting nothing more than someone bigger than you to come in and make everything okay again. You dialed Johnny’s contact on your phone, just to hear the dial tone as the call didn’t connect, then dropped and hung up on its own.

You got the feeling that somebody else was there, and turned around towards the entrance. It was Kun, and he ducked his head sheepishly.

“You couldn’t sleep either?” He surmised.

“No.” You scooted to one end of the seat, offering up the empty space for him to join you.

“I can alter your device, to communicate with Earth,” he offered, gesturing to your phone, the screen of which was still lit up in your hand.

“You think so?” You asked hopefully.

“Yes. It will keep my mind busy, too.”

You placed it in his waiting palm. “Thank you!”

He looked at the glowing pond in front of the two of you. “Do you have places like this on Earth?”

“Kind of?” You said. “I think? Maybe? Is it some kind of uh, bioluminescence? Some bacteria or something that glow?”

Kun smiled. “Yes, exactly.”

“Cool. Funny, we have pink oceans too. Like, our whole ocean isn’t pink, but there’s small lakes and stuff that are pink like yours.”

“What color are your oceans, then?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Blue, like our sky,” you informed him with a grin. “Or, sometimes a greenish blue.”

“A blue sky…” He muttered, clearly trying to picture that. “I’m sure that fascinated Jungwoo.”

“Hey.” You looked at him inquisitively. “Is it really true that you don’t know who’s older?”

Kun chuckled. “It’s different on Earth, then?”

“Very.”

“Yes, Galarii children aren’t raised being called the older or younger child. Most families have their children very close together, so unless you remember your sibling being born, you typically won’t know which of you is older.”

“And school isn’t organized by age either.”

“No.”

“Huh.”

“Do you have a sibling?”

“An older brother, kind of,” you said fondly. “That’s who I was trying to call.”

Kun furrowed his brow. “He’s ‘kind of’ older, or ‘kind of’ your brother?”

“‘Kind of’ my brother.” You laughed. “Definitely older. We know that on Earth. And even if we didn’t, he remembers me being born, so…”

“Ah, you’ve known him for a while?”

“Friends for my whole life, yeah. He always knows what to do. Which is usually pretty annoying, but this time, I really need that.”

The Galarii with you nodded in understanding. “I don’t know everything, but I will do my best to let you speak with him.”

Kun rose to his feet.

“Kun.” You stopped him from leaving. “When humans are in comas, people say that they can still hear you. Is Jungwoo like that right now?”

“I think it will benefit him for you to spend time with him,” he agreed. “I’ll bring you your communicator once it’s ready. You should try to sleep tonight, Y/N.”

You offered him a smile. “Thank you, Kun. For everything.”

“Thank you for bringing him home.”

When you woke up, you couldn’t be sure if it was morning, but it was definitely brighter in the hallway outside your room. You were sure they had the lights set to mimic whatever the rhythm of Galarian days were like.

Jungwoo looked the same as when you left him yesterday, which was both comforting and disconcerting. He hadn’t gotten any worse overnight, but he wasn’t getting better. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, wringing your hands over your lap.

Feeling a little silly as you looked around the otherwise empty room, you said quietly, “Uh, hey, Jungwoo…”

He didn’t stir, and you poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you contemplated continuing. Eventually, you did. “I don’t… know what to say. My grandpa died when I was seven and when my mom took me to his headstone after, I never knew what I was supposed to say to it. Not that you’re dead, obviously… I-I was kind of relieved when I got older and my mom stopped taking me with her to visit him. I think that’s bad. But it felt like I always had to pretend to be as sad as her, which didn’t feel right to her.”

You readjusted how the covers settled on Jungwoo. “I wish you were awake, so I could ask you what sort of funeral traditions you have on Galaria, or if your grandparents are alive, or about your mom. I guess I could ask Kun that kind of stuff, but it wouldn’t be the same. I-I want to know about you.”

Time passed like that, you having a one-sided conversation with Jungwoo. Dejun sometimes stopped in to bring you meals and check on Jungwoo. After your second meal of the day, Kun entered the room, holding your phone out towards you. It looked the exact same as before, and you went to pocket it.

“It’s fine, Kun, don’t worry about—”

“Try it,” he urged you.

“Wait, you fixed it?” You took it back out, looking down at the screen. It looked normal, except you realized that that now it indicated that you had full bars. Honestly, you were expecting some kind of alien technology to be appended to it, and for the endeavor to take much longer. “That was fast.”

You once again tried to call Johnny, entirely unsure and uncaring of what time it was on Earth. This time, it rang.

“Y/N?!” His voice was a mixture of disbelief and fear when he picked up. You gave Kun a thumbs-up and darted from the room to properly take the call.

“Hey, Johnny…” You were already braced for the scolding of a lifetime, certain that he was well aware of where you were. Somehow, he always knew. Who knew how long you have been gone from home at this point.

“Y/N…” He took a deep breath. “Just come home safe.”

“I will, I will!” You promised hurriedly.

“I sprinkled into conversation with your parents your destination bachelorette trip already. So when you get back, you’ve got to figure out which one of your friends is getting married.”

Not if, when.

“Thank you, thank you.”

“Put Jungwoo on, I need to talk to him,” he demanded sternly.

Your throat nearly closed up as you thought of the scene you had just left, Jungwoo still passed out, his iridophores fading, untreatable even by Galarii doctors. “I can’t, he’s-he’s really bad. I don’t know what—I don’t know.”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s okay. Deep breaths with me now, alright, kid?” Johnny’s tone immediately softened, and he led you through a few deep breaths over the call. Once he seemed satisfied that you were a little calmer, he continued with the same soothing voice, “He’ll be alright. He’s back where he belongs, where people who know how to treat him can treat him. He’ll be fine.”

Tears spilled over your cheeks as you shook your head desperately. “They can’t, John. They can’t treat him. He’s—He’ll either get better or he won’t.”

“What?!” He asked incredulously. “He’s not a lame horse that needs to be put down. Who told you that? Put them on the phone.”

“I—” You sniffed and wiped your eyes. “Why do you care so much?”

Johnny sighed again, lowering his voice. “Look. You are stranded God fucking knows where. And as far as I’m concerned, Jungwoo is the only alien there that is going to want to get you home. So he can’t fucking die.”

You shuffled back into the room, thankfully spotting Kun still in there. “Do you have a transcoder?”

“Yes, is there something wrong with yours? I can understand you just fine.”

“No, uhm, Johnny wants to talk to you.” You indicated to your phone.

Kun raised his eyebrows, gesturing to himself. “Your brother wishes to speak with me?”

“Yeah. He’s a… doctor,” you half-fibbed. “He helped take care of Jungwoo when he crashed before. He wants to know how he’s doing. Will it work over the phone? The transcoder?”

Kun gestured for you to wait, then left the room for a moment, returning with a necklace similar to yours around his neck. The pendant was of a similar construction, but a slightly different shape and angles.

You quickly informed Johnny, “Okay, uhm, this is Kun, Jungwoo’s brother.”

The Galarii accepted the phone, and you helped him hold it correctly before he stepped out to take the call like you had. You kept your ears peeled for the worst, hoping Johnny stayed on his best behavior.

“Jungwoo, I hate this,” you kept talking to your spaceman in the meantime. “I hate not being able to do anything for you. I hate just having to wait, feeling useless.”

After some time, you heard footsteps outside the room, and quieted down before Kun reentered, holding your phone out to you.

“So… what did you guys talk about?” You asked hopefully.

“There may be one more thing we can try for Jungwoo,” Kun said, and you immediately got to your feet.

“Well let’s do it!”

He held out a hand to calm you. “It’ll have to wait until nighttime, I’m afraid.”

“What? What is—?”

“In the meantime, Johnny did mention that human bodies don’t naturally make the same painkillers that Galarii do. I apologize for not being aware of that.” Kun bowed his head apologetically. “Are you in any pain?”

“It’s fine.”

“He said you would do that as well, and to ask again. Are you certain you are not in pain? You cut your leg yesterday.”

You sighed, refraining from rolling your eyes at the man who really was just trying to be kind. “Fine. My head hurts a little, and my leg. And sort of everything.”

“Come with me, I can prepare you an injection. Johnny explained proper dosage and administration for humans.”

Reluctantly, you left and followed Kun to another room in the house. It appeared to be another bedroom, and he gestured for you to take a seat at a small desk. Papers were in neat stacks, and you looked around with both interest and eagerness to get this over with so you could get back to Jungwoo.

“Is this your room?” You asked as Kun pulled up a chair and opened a first aid kit of some kind.

“Yes.”

“Is that Jungwoo’s room that you have him in?” You watched him roll up your sleeve to wipe down your arm first. “Does he live with you?”

“When he’s on Galaria, yes.” Kun then brought out a small, clear bottle and syringe that looked remarkably like the ones back on Earth. “His ship is more-so his home.”

“His actual ship, right? The one he took this time was yours.”

The Galarii filled the syringe with a very small amount of medicine. “Yes. He doesn’t spend enough time here to necessitate having his own place.”

“So did you finish your paperwork?”

He nodded to the stacks on the desk next to you. “Does it look like I did?”

You laughed, and he reached for your upper arm. “Just let me know when you’re going to do it. My friend Yuta wanted to be a piercer in high school before he was a mechanic, so I have a lot of practice being stuck.”

“I already did it,” Kun informed you, holding a small piece of gauze to the site.

You looked down in disbelief. “Seriously?” And sure enough, there was an empty syringe on the table too. “Damn, I didn’t feel a thing. You’re good.”

Kun took the gauze off the injection site, a small drop of red blood on it. “You know, has anybody ever said that is a very alarming color?”

“I think that’s the point,” you chuckled. “To get your attention.”

“I see…”

“So what’s the other thing to help Jungwoo?”

“I have some work to get done before it.” He gestured to the papers again with a remorseful look. “How about you sit with him for now? I’ll let you know once we can get started.”

You bit your tongue to not take your frustration at the situation out on your host. “Alright. Thanks, Kun.”

Back in Jungwoo’s room, you froze when you were greeted by two big brown eyes blinking at you from the bed. Jungwoo seemed equally in shock as he rubbed his eyes, squinting at you uncertainly.

“Hey, you’re awake,” you breathed out in relief, feet finally coming unstuck so you could dart over to his bedside.

“Y/N?” He groaned and tried to push himself up into a sitting position.

“Easy, easy,” you murmured, urging him back down.

“That’s… really you?”

You offered him a smile, hoping he couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “Yeah. Crazy déjà vu, huh?”

Jungwoo looked down at his own hands. “I’m alive?”

“Yeah, you are. It was uhm… kind of scary for a while there,” you admitted quietly, taking his hand. Putting some pep into your tone, you added, “But I told you, remember? I said you weren’t going to die.”

“I thought I was hallucinating and dying,” he deadpanned.

“When? On the ship? You could’ve been, I don’t know. What did you see?”

“You. I thought I was hallucinating when I saw you.”

“Oh. No, I’m real.”

His mouth was set into a hard line as he asked, “Why are you here?”

“Because your ship’s autopilot worked and didn’t crash us into the ocean,” you teased.

But he didn’t even smile. “What…? Why would you do that?”

The smile dropped from your face as you turned confused. “Because I didn’t want you to die? Why are you… pissed at me? Is that it? You’re pissed?”

All the happiness that was bubbling in your chest had been soured with the unexpectedly hostile reaction you’d received from Jungwoo.

“You’ve never been in space— I—” He took a deep breath, once again trying to push himself up and succeeding this time as you didn’t stop him. You dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him carefully, still concerned with how weak he’d be after not eating or drinking for so long. “What if the ship had crashed? Exploded? What if it flew at speeds unsafe for humans? What if my ship didn’t protect you against radiation deadly to humans because it was built for Galarii? What if Galarii had much longer lifespans than humans and something that was a short trip for me was longer than your entire life? What if we made it here and you couldn’t breathe our air? What if—”

“None of that happened,” you insisted.

“There were any billions of things that could have gone wrong, that you didn’t know and you—”

“They didn’t,” you reiterated emphatically.

“What if they did? Because of a choice you made for me?”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, putting some distance between the two of you as you felt anger start simmering under your skin. “It wasn’t really a choice. It was… I don’t know, I just did it. But it was fine, so just stop, alright?”

“Why did you come with me?” Jungwoo asked knowingly.

“Why did you try to leave me like that?” You shot back.

He suddenly couldn’t look you in the eye. “I was dying, I had to get back home.”

“I know, I was trying to help you get back home,” you scoffed. “I mean, why did you trick me into going to ask Yuta for a part that you already had, so that you could leave me without saying goodbye? I was ready to let you go, Jungwoo—”

“Because hearing you say that would’ve actually killed me!” His chest heaved after his outburst, his eyes were a watery red as he continued, “And you… that would’ve hurt you. And I couldn’t stick around just to selfishly enjoy another moment of your time if it meant doing that to you. I figured the confusion wouldn’t have been as bad as watching me die.”

The two of you stared at each other for several tense, choking seconds as his words hung in the air. You clenched your jaw, chewing on your next words, ruminating on them, before you swallowed them back down, sharp and bitter.

“I need to take a walk, because if I stay in here, I’m going to say something nasty that I don’t mean,” you spat out instead.

Kun found you by the bioluminescent pond again, a normal-looking water feature by day. You were crouched by the water’s edge, listlessly watching the water lap at the cold stone floor you were sitting on.

“Jungwoo’s awake,” Kun said, standing just behind and to your right side.

“Yeah.” You swallowed. “You heard us fighting, I’m guessing.”

“I didn’t hear what was said, only his voice. The only way I could get him to stay in bed was by promising that I would check on you.”

“Jungwoo’s been out for a while, he should get something to eat, and drink—”

“Dejun is getting him food and water now.”

“Good,” you croaked, wiping at a tear that had collected at the corner of your eye. “God damn it…”

Kun sat down beside you. “You’re more than his friend, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I guess. I don’t know.” You picked at your fingernails to avoid looking at him. “He… you know…”

“Imprinted? On you?” The Galarii’s voice betrayed his awe.

“Yeah. I know it’s a big deal, like the big deal for you guys… but I don’t do that, so…”

“It’s been awkward.”

“That’s one word for it.”

“Do you have a… partner on your planet?” He asked sympathetically.

“Oh, no, it’s not that bad, thankfully,” you sniffled and laughed. “It’s not that I don’t like Jungwoo, or that I can’t see myself, you know… falling in love with him or whatever. It just feels like I’m at Point A and he’s already at Point X waiting for me to catch up. Like there’s this huge gap.”

“He’s not in love with you, if that helps,” Kun informed you.

You stared at him blankly. “Huh?”

“Ah, exactly what I thought. Jungwoo didn’t explain imprinting very well.” Kun nodded to himself. “It’s not… instant infatuation, or love, or anything like that. You’re aware, in the back of your mind, that theoretically anybody in the universe could be the person you spend the rest of your life with, right? There may be near infinite numbers of people that you could be attracted to? Hypothetically?”

“I haven’t really thought of it like that, but I guess, yeah.” Without Donghyuck here unhelpfully joking about eggs, you found the conversation much easier to process. Or maybe you were just becoming desensitized to the idea, you couldn’t tell.

“Jungwoo doesn’t feel that endlessness anymore. His infinity is just you now. He’s not in love with you, because he doesn’t know you very well, but he knows that the only person he could ever fall in love with for the rest of his life is you.”

“So I’m at Point A and he’s at like, Point G, not Point X.”

“If your analogy is translating correctly, yes.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, mind turning over one part of his explanation. “‘Could.’ You used the word could, unless the transcoder is being liberal with nuance here.”

“Well, yes. I don’t think this is getting muddied in translation. It’s not definite that he’s going to fall in love with you.” He tilted his head. “I think that’s what is making you anxious, right? Feeling as though you have no choice, something has already plotted your life for you?”

You nodded. “Yeah… I think it brings some people peace, doesn’t it? On my planet, a lot of people have a god of some kind that they think has a divine plan for them and their life. That… freaks me the fuck out.” You let out a breathy, nervous chuckle, wringing your hands. “I’ve never liked feeling trapped.”

“You could leave the planet. If Jungwoo knew it was your choice to leave him, I don’t think he would follow you. He would let you go,” Kun offered. “We have more ships. I would go with you, personally guarantee your safety.”

“Do Galarii have religion?” You avoided answering his question, the intensity of his gaze, looking up at whatever was creating false light in the cavern, unable to pinpoint its exact origin past the hazy glow above you. “Jungwoo never mentioned any sort of religious figure, or prayed or anything when he was injured… That’s kind of when humans would’ve. Prayed for their God to give them strength.”

He took your conversation shift in stride, “We have enduring superstitions, traditions, but no sort of organized religion, no.”

“So this imprinting, it’s not any sort of divine plan, or divine will? To you all? It just… is?”

“One of the superstitions we do have is that of the finder’s intuition.”

“What’s that?”

“If you’ve found something, whether you realize it or not, you found it for a reason.”

“Jungwoo said something kind of like that about imprinting,” you recalled. “He said that humans choose their partners, but Galarii find them.”

“Yes. So for him to have been in that ship in the first place, which was not his, so far from home, and crashed due to circumstances outside of his control, on your planet, only to meet you, and it just happens that he imprints on you…”

“I found him.” You let out a choked laugh, covering your face at the insanity of it all. Of course Jungwoo had no reason to doubt why he had imprinted on you. You practically told him it was meant to be without even realizing it.

“I’m sorry?” Kun obviously had no context as for why you were laughing.

“I found his ship after he crashed and pulled him out of it. I found him,” you were still laughing as you explained, wiping at a stray tear that eked out. You didn’t know if it was from humor or misery at this point. “I literally told him ‘finders keepers’ talking about why he was staying at my apartment.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh…”

“Why was Jungwoo… so bad? When I brought him back?” You still needed some kind of answer. “You made it sound like you weren’t going to be able to help him at all.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No.” You answered immediately. It was the same thing that made you get into his ship when it was taking off. Not imprinting, and not love… yet.

“I thought he was dying of a failed imprint,” Kun answered without hesitation.

“He can die from that?! And you were going to just let me leave?! Not just that, personally escort me out of the galaxy?! He’s your brother!” You shot to your feet, once again in utter disbelief at the conversation you were having.

“I never believed that you wanted to leave,” Kun replied simply. “I understand this is not entirely fair to you. But I do believe that you should understand the gravity of your situation. Again, he seems to be fine now.”

You ran a hand through your hair. “I mean—What the hell?! If we were to even like, be together in the future, if we had a fight he could die?! That’s fucking crazy!”

“No,” he reassured you. “The initial phases of an imprint are the rockiest. If it doesn’t take, a Galarii can die.”

“What causes it to… not… take?”

“Emotional turmoil, physical distance from the person they imprinted on, stress, any number of things.”

“But he’s fine now? You said he’s fine now?” You double-checked.

“Yes.”

“So it… took?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay, good.” You let out a sigh of relief.

Kun looked conflicted as he added, “I have a confession.”

You blinked at him. “…What now?”

“The injection I gave you, it wasn’t just for you,” he admitted. “I of course didn’t want you to be in pain, but for Galarii that have imprinted on non-Galarii, it’s been known for their physiology to sometimes mimic their non-Galarii partners. Johnny described to me how Jungwoo healed while on Earth and reacted differently to substances than he would have on Galaria. More human-like, from my understanding. And when he returned with a human…”

“That made you suspect that he had imprinted on me,” you finished. “But you injected me, not Jungwoo—And Jungwoo hates needles, and always knows where I am, so you thought he would’ve sensed me being in danger in his coma and woken up to protect me? Is that even how this thing works?”

“It’s not exact, what Jungwoo can sense… I doubt if I even injected you now, that he would know. Just, the feeling that something wasn’t right. An instinctual need to check on you.” Kun rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears flushing red. “I wasn’t sure if he had told you, and if I was wrong about the imprint, that would’ve been—”

“A horrible situation for all of us to be in, yeah, I understand.” You stared out at the water, thinking about how the one that you were in didn’t seem much better in that moment.

“You two have both been through a lot. I’m sure you’ll come to understand each other.” The Galarii stood up. “I’m going to check on my brother. Take your time, Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Dejun found you by the water again later in the day. He was carrying a tray of food, meaning that it must be dinnertime already. You hadn’t budged from your spot after your conversation with Kun earlier, thinking way too much about everything.

“Dejun, hey.” You held your chin up with the palm of your hand, still staring out at the water. “Nobody’s looking for me, are they?”

You didn’t specify who would be looking for you.

The aide approached, handing you a plate of food. “Jungwoo asked if you’re alright.”

“I wanted to give him and Kun time alone,” you fibbed. “You know, they’re brothers, it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other.”

“Kun had state matters to attend to, he took his dinner to his room.”

“Of course, right.” You nodded. “Dejun, can I ask you something? And feel free to tell me if it’s way too personal by Galarii standards.”

He arched an eyebrow curiously, but acquiesced nevertheless. “Sure.”

“Are you… Have you… imprinted on someone?”

He smiled just the tiniest bit, and shook his head. “No, not yet.”

“Okay, thanks.”

With that, Dejun nodded his head politely and took leave of the room. You could only eat a couple bites of the food before you let out a deep sigh and stood up. You found your way back to Jungwoo’s room easily, knocking at the open doorway hesitantly. He was sitting at the table eating, and you were happy to see that he was well enough to get out of bed.

Jungwoo looked over from his food, sitting up straighter when he saw that it was you. “Y/N.”

“Hey.” You gestured to the table with your full plate of food. “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.” He motioned to the chair across from him hurriedly.

You sat down, studying him under the lights as he went back to eating. “You look a lot better. Your iridophores… You look better.”

“Thanks.” He wiped his mouth. “I’m sorry for getting so upset earlier. I could’ve expressed my concerns in a more… productive way.”

“You just woke up from a coma, it’s understandable you weren’t all there,” you replied graciously. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for making sure I got back safe,” he said strongly, putting a hand on your forearm. “Kun told me what he knows, and I believe I’d be dead without you. Their sensors recognized that something that wasn’t Galarii had landed on the planet without permission, so they went out to investigate and found us. We landed in a snowstorm, and I was unconscious. If you weren’t with me, not only would they not have found us at all, but I would’ve frozen to death out there.”

“I was why you were dying in the first place, though,” you pointed out. He seemed to be at a loss for words, and you added, “You should have told me, Jungwoo. Back on Earth, you should’ve told me what was going on.”

“You’re right. You kept talking about wanting me to leave with good memories of Earth, I wanted to do the same, leave you with only good memories of me.”

“If you had really left me like that, I would’ve been worried sick for the rest of my life not knowing what happened to you,” you told him harshly. “And now that I know that you apparently were doing that knowing that you were just going to die… I don’t get it. I don’t get you, and I’m really trying to.”

“I’m sorry. I was wrong. You’re not so… careless. I don’t know how I could have ever thought that.”

You took another bite of food, listening to the sounds of both your breaths in the quiet air. “Could you hear me? When you were out? I-I was talking to you, I couldn’t do anything else, and it’s supposed to help humans who are in comas, so…”

“Nothing in particular, at least not that I can remember now.” Jungwoo shook his head, but there was still a pleased smile on his face. “But I don’t doubt that having you nearby helped.”

“So you also don’t know why you woke up?” You asked tepidly. “It wasn’t a… choice somehow?”

“I remember being on the ship on Earth with you, and then I woke up here. Everything in between… I don’t recall.”

“That’s okay.” You both had finished your meals, and you stood up from the table. “I should let you rest some more.”

Jungwoo surprisingly agreed to this, the exhaustion visible in his features. “I wish we could talk more…”

“Tomorrow,” you promised, offering your hand out for him to take. “We can eat breakfast together again.”

He stood up on shaky feet, and you shuffled back over to the bed with him, helping him back under the covers.

“Could you sit with me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested, gently grasping your hand.

“Of course.” You sat down on the edge of the bed, brushing a few stray pieces of hair out of his eyes.

“Your hands are even colder on Galaria, I think,” he commented, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Well shit, maybe it’s the frozen tundra outside,” you retorted.

“I… don’t mind…” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Sleep well, Jungwoo,” you murmured, stroking your thumb over the back of his hand.

You ate breakfast with Jungwoo as promised, happy to take part in this one little thing with him again.

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting with him at the table. He was already there with two places set when you entered.

“Better than yesterday, not as good as tomorrow,” he told you brightly. “How did you sleep?”

“Good, good.” You continued watching him carefully as he ate. “You really feel better?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then do you think… do you think it took?” You pushed some food around on your plate awkwardly. “Would you even know that?”

Jungwoo set his utensil down, easing back in his chair slowly. “Yes, I think it took. How does that make you feel?”

“I’m happy you’re okay,” you answered honestly. “The rest… Like I said, I’m trying to understand you, but I just don’t get it.”

“Ask me anything you’d like. Please.”

“I mean, doesn’t it seem unfair? That I’m apparently your soulmate, but you’re not mine?”

“Unfair to who? You or me?”

You faltered. “What?”

“I do understand how this would seem unfair to you—That I know that you’re my soulmate, but you don’t have that certainty about me,” he shook his head sorrowfully. “Yes, that must be terrible.”

“No, I meant unfair to you. You’re stuck with me. You don’t get a choice. But I do, I don’t have that sort of obligation to you,” you pointed out, shifting forward in your chair. “Doesn’t that make you… anxious?”

“Ah, I get it now.” Jungwoo nodded, a thoughtful look on his face as he too sat up. “Galarii find, humans pick. I wouldn’t want to take that choice away from you. I… understand now, how important it is to you. So, if you do pick me, that’ll be the happiest day of my life. And every day after that that you wake up and pick me again, will be the new happiest day of my life.”

He held his hand out on the tabletop between the two of you, palm up, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you. Not urging, not impatient. You knew he would withdraw it if you turned away.

“You’re really…” You kept looking between him and his hand, keeping your tone curious. “Finding was good enough for you?”

“Good enough?” He chuckled, not derisively but fondly. “It was even better than I imagined.”

“You were half-dead, when I pulled you out of that ship,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I was.”

“Galarii find, humans pick,” you repeated. “Just like you wouldn’t want to take my choice away from me, it would be wrong to force a choice like that onto you… But isn’t inaction just as much of a decision?”

Jungwoo’s smile only grew. “If it is, it’s one that I already made. I hope you can respect that, just as I’ll respect whatever you choose to do.”

You placed your hand atop his, offering him a hesitant smile. “This is me choosing to try this out. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” He squeezed your hand gently. “Thank you. Once I’m better I’ll take you home and take you on real dates there. I promise.”

“So Galarii date too? I thought you guys would’ve just gone straight to moving in,” you joked, taking a bite of your food.

“No. I watched movies with Taeyong and Doyoung,” he explained. “Galarii spend quality time with their mate, yes, but the concept of going on ‘dates’ like humans to figure out if you’re compatible… we don’t have anything quite like that.”

“Of course those two took you to some sappy romantic movies,” you snickered. “I don’t need any big romantic public gestures, Jungwoo. Falling out of the sky and almost dying twice was plenty, I swear.”

“Your friends all said something similar.”

“They were giving you tips on how to flirt with me?”

“Yes. It seemed they were aware that I cared for you in some way…”

You burst out laughing, covering your face in embarrassment. “Oh God, I’m so sorry about them. Forget everything they said, whatever it was.”

“So, carnations aren’t your favorite flower?”

“Hold on, that’s real advice, who told you that?”

“Taeyong.”

“Okay, you can trust whatever Taeyong told you, and probably Doyoung, and maybe Jaehyun,” you counted them off on your fingers. “But forget everything that anybody else told you.”

“I will,” he agreed with a chuckle. “Some of it didn’t seem like very sound advice anyway.”

A couple days later, and Jungwoo was well enough to leave his room finally. The two of you walked around the house arm in arm, chatting about this or that.

“This is the longest I’ve been on Galaria in quite some time,” he mused.

“Kun said that you don’t stay for very long, so you don’t have your own place,” you said. “Don’t you get lonely? Not being around your friends or family?”

“Have you seen either of us have any visitors while you’ve been here? Aside from Dejun?”

“Well, no.”

“We don’t see other Galarii much during snow season,” he explained. “It’s less lonely out doing runs, actually. Interacting with customers, going to markets, busy cities… crash-landing on planets and being pulled from the wreckage by a beautiful human and her friends.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder into his as he smiled down at you. “But seriously, you guys don’t have tunnels connecting your homes or something?”

“Galaria’s crust is very thin compared to other rocky planets. We wouldn’t have the depth to build an elaborate system like that. At least not a very efficient one. Any transport that happens needs to be on the surface.”

“How do you all communicate during snow season then? Do you have phones too?”

“We have similar communication devices, yes.”

“How long is snow season?”

“Approximately half a Galarian year.”

You looked up at him curiously. “So what do you call the other half of the year, then?”

“We have two more seasons: Snowmelt, and newgreen.”

“I think I can guess what happens in each of those…” You joked.

“Do tell.”

“I think the snow melts, and then new green stuff grows.”

He chuckled fondly. “That’s the basics, yes.”

“But do you not have something between newgreen and snow season? Like a-a fall of some kind?” You were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. “We have four seasons for the most part: Spring, everything grows, kind of like newgreen I think; then in summer, it gets hotter but pretty much everything stays alive; then in fall it starts getter colder and things start dying off; then we have winter, and everything is dead or hibernating. Then it’s spring again and everything starts all over.”

Jungwoo listened with interest to your explanation before answering. “Snow season comes very rapidly each year. All the plants freeze at once in the first blizzard. There’s no time for a gradual decay like you’ve described.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you able to predict when the first blizzard is? Do you have like, meteorologists or something?”

“Yes, we’re able to narrow it down rather precisely and prepare.”

“And do most Galarii live alone like Kun?” You asked quietly. “I feel like if I was going to be stuck underground for half the year, unable to visit anybody, I might live with more than just one or two people.”

Jungwoo put a finger over his mouth, then nodded towards his room that the two of you had unwittingly looped back around to. He shut the door behind you, and you sat at the table together before he continued with your conversation, “Do you remember how I said my brother is controversial, not for any policies, but for something in his personal life?”

It felt like a lifetime ago, the first conversation you ever had. You nodded. “Yes.”

“Kun is very dedicated to his job.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He doesn’t take many breaks, or attend social functions that are not required by his job, or, as you’ve pointed out, live with anybody except his aide and me, sometimes. Galarii typically do live in larger social centers during snow season. There’re no tunnels connecting these niches to each other, like I said before, but some can fit up to twenty or thirty people.”

“And you, Kun, and Dejun just have your own house,” you reiterated. “How would that make him so controversial that somebody would want to kill him?”

“Some Galarii see him as isolationist. Refusing to allow opportunities to find things. They believe it reflects poorly on his ability to lead.”

Your face screwed up with confusion. “But if you’re looking to find something, that’s no longer serendipity, that’s choice. That’s action. I thought the whole point was the inaction. Of you finding something when you weren’t looking?”

“Galarii have different interpretations of finder’s intuition, and what it means to ‘find’ something,” he sighed. “It’s a very small minority that see this as a flaw of his, but those that do feel very strongly about it.”

“Strong enough to try to kill him?” You felt like you were losing your mind trying to comprehend this.

“Apparently.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose before giving up. “You know what? Humans have definitely killed for much less; I don’t have any ground to stand on here.”

“That reminds me—I believe I’ll be well enough to take you home in two more days. I’m excited to show you my ship.”

“Really?” You focused him with a doubtful gaze. “I don’t want you pushing yourself for my sake, Jungwoo. I can wait.”

“Thank you. I assure you I’m being sincere. If I’m not at my best, that can pose a hazard to your safety.”

You sighed and put your head on his shoulder. “While I wish the reasons were a little more concerned for your wellbeing too, I appreciate the honesty.”

Jungwoo gently rested his head against yours. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Wanting me to live,” he said softly. “When you found me on Earth, when you brought me back to Galaria… Thank you.”

You picked your head back up to look at him incredulously. “What? Why would I want anything else? Why would I want you to die?”

“It’s very rare for Galarii to imprint on other species. And those who do, there haven’t been very many that take…”

“They died?”

“Yes.” He looked down at his hands, fidgeting with the material over his lap. “It’s even a common subject of Galarian stories. It’s… tragically romantic, to die so your mate can be happy with whoever they’re really in love with.”

You could feel the deep frown on your face as you listened to this. “But those are just stories. Characters live or die to explore narrative themes and emotions and societal concepts, not to be an example for real life.”

Jungwoo chuckled lightly, tracing a fingertip over one of the lines on your forehead, encouraging you to relax your face again. “That’s why I’m thanking you. You chose a different fate for me than the one I had accepted.”

“What did I say before, hm? Finders keepers,” you declared, grabbing his other hand. “You’re not going to die as long as I have something to say about it.”

“Immortality here I come,” he joked, caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, then even lower, your jawline, your neck, until he picked up the transcoder from where it rested on your chest. He stared at it in wonder, as if it wasn’t his own piece of technology.

“You don’t mind, right?” You looked down at the pendant as well. “That I took your transcoder? I figured it would be easier for me to wear one than expect everyone else to…”

“No, of course not.” He dropped the jewelry again. “I’m just… very happy that it works for you.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“They have to be specially made for the Galarii who is going to wear it. Galarii can’t borrow each other’s transcoders.”

“Does it have something to do with the telepathy?”

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’ve never seen someone be able to wear someone else’s transcoder successfully.”

“Not even Galarii that imprint on each other?” You asked curiously, habitually gracing your own fingertips over the device.

“No, not even then.”

“Maybe it’s a human thing.”

“Maybe,” Jungwoo hummed noncommittally.

Two Galarian days later, and you and Jungwoo were ready to go back to Earth.

“Thank you so much, Kun,” you hugged your host goodbye. “Please stay safe.”

He looked confused as he released you from the hug. “Aren’t I supposed to be telling you that?”

You patted his arm. “I mean it.”

“Very well,” he relented with a smile. “Thank you, and the same for you.”

After you and Dejun had exchanged your goodbyes, you saw that Kun and Jungwoo were still embracing, and stood off to the side to wait patiently. Kun seemed to be half-hugging and half-lecturing Jungwoo, cuffing him by the ear to pull him down to his height as he spoke on and on seriously, and Jungwoo nodded or gave a joking whine every so often.

“Kun’s older,” you leaned over to whisper to Dejun.

“You’re guessing?” The aide whispered back.

“You can call it a hunch, yeah.”

Finally, Kun let Jungwoo go, and he straightened up, fixing his clothes with the help of his brother. You and Jungwoo didn’t have very much in terms of luggage to take—Jungwoo kept his personal belongings on his ship, and you came with nothing but your clothes and your phone. Kun and Dejun had given you more appropriate outer layers for the tundra outside, as well as food and supplies for the flight back to Earth, but really your only souvenir was your now extraterrestrially-modified cellphone.

“Ready?” Jungwoo asked you, carrying the small knapsack of supplies on his back.

You pulled your goggles down over your face and gave him the best thumbs-up you could with the thick gloves you had on. “Ready!”

You caught just a glimpse of his eyes crinkling with a smile before he too put his goggles on. Jungwoo clasped your hand as Dejun reached out towards the smooth face of the front door. This time you were able to properly see as he touched his necklace to a small panel that reminded you of the buttons on their spaceships, and a small yellow glow emanated from where they connected. Then, the door slid aside, into the cavern wall. You and Jungwoo stepped out together, the door shutting silently behind you.

Keeping a tight hold to Jungwoo’s hand and arm, you followed him through the snow that had continued building up. There was none actively falling now, giving you a much clearer view of the lilac expanse above. Despite the sameness of the landscape, Jungwoo seemed to know exactly where he was going. You didn’t realize you had arrived anywhere specific until Jungwoo suddenly stopped at one specific hill, brushing aside some snow on a post. You couldn’t read the writing on it, but he seemed satisfied, pulling it down. A small hatch opened in the snow in front of you, and he quickly ushered you over to it. Gesturing for you to wait a moment, he dropped the pack down first, then climbed down after it. From the bottom, he waved you down. You slowly started lowering yourself down as well, Jungwoo waiting right there for you.

Buried under who knows how much snow, your eyes had to acclimate to the darkness again. You had found yourself in the rear of Jungwoo’s ship, and he closed the hatch back up after you before pulling you towards the cockpit at the front. It was a two-seater like the one that he had borrowed from Kun, but you could immediately tell there was a lot more of a personal touch to this one. It was sleeker, the controls looking newer than the other, and you saw the occasional knickknack, notepad, or even piece of clothing strewn about the cockpit. He moved a jacket that had been hanging off the co-pilot seat then gestured to it for you.

You sat down as Jungwoo started preparing the ship for takeoff, still thinking about the mounds of snow atop you. Taking your goggles and mask off like he had, you asked, “What about all the snow?”

“The energy generated from the ship’s reactors melts it by the time we take off,” he explained, continuing to flip switches and push buttons.

“Wow.” You watched him work with a practiced ease and focus.

Finally, he turned back around to you, leaning in close as he dug around in the seat for your seatbelt. He grinned as he buckled it up and tightened it for you. “Can’t forget—Precious cargo.”

You just shook your head and smiled as he laughed and sat in his own seat. After getting himself situated, you two were ready for takeoff.

Jungwoo looked over at you, offering his hand out to you. “Ready?”

You grabbed it, squeezing it tightly as you nodded. “Ready.”

“Let’s go!” He cheered, joyfully slamming his hand down on a button. A countdown started on the monitors and from the speakers, and this time you could understand the announcement. It counted down from 10, and on 1, the reactors changed from a thrum to a full-on blast, and like when you took off from Earth, the ground lurched out from under you again. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when you left Galaria, though, only when the reactors cooled back down to a hum.

You looked back over to Jungwoo expectantly. He unbuckled himself, a bright grin on his face. “We’re out of Galarian space.”

“Cool,” you breathed out, looking around the ship with wide eyes.

The Galarii started unbuckling you as well, pulling you to your feet. “Come on, I’ve got to show you around my ship!”

Maybe it was because you were in a different ship, maybe it was because you were no longer fearing for Jungwoo’s life, you couldn’t be sure, but the trip back to Earth felt a lot shorter than the trip to Galaria. This time, you directed Jungwoo to land on Johnny’s family farm just outside the city. Johnny’s parents were older and no longer kept livestock in one of the barns on the property, making it the perfect place to hide Jungwoo’s ship while it was there.

It was nighttime when you arrived, and Jungwoo effortlessly landed in the far-off field that you had been to many times when visiting Johnny’s grandparents growing up. He maneuvered into the open barn, and you were buzzing with excitement as he powered down the ship.

This time, he let you exit the hatch first, and you looked around eagerly, immediately spotting your two friends by the now-closed doors. You waved to Johnny and Jaehyun, sliding off the side of the ship to land easily on both feet.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms around him first.

“Y/N, oh my God,” Johnny breathed out, crushing you to him so tightly the air was knocked from your lungs. “God damn it, kid, don’t do that again. Okay?”

“Okay, okay,” you coughed out your agreement, rubbing his back reassuringly.

“You’re late, you know that?” He continued scolding you even as he cradled the back of your head. “You said five days, we’ve been waiting here for two more days. I tried to call.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I tried to guess as best I could. The days must be more different than I thought,” you mumbled into his shirt. “My phone died when we were coming back. I’m sorry for worrying you. Thank you for waiting, John. Thank you.”

When he finally let you go, you were grabbed in a bear hug by Jaehyun. “I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N. We both are.”

“Thanks, Jae,” you let out a sigh of relief at being able to breathe a little better. “I missed you guys.”

“How are you doing, Jungwoo?” Jaehyun turned to the Galarii next. “Johnny said it sounded pretty bad, but you’re looking alright to me.”

Jungwoo nodded, the transcoder now dangling from his neck. “I’m healed now. Thank you, Jaehyun.”

“Good to hear, dude.” Jaehyun hugged him too. “Good to hear.”

“Thanks, Jungwoo.” Johnny offered his hand out for Jungwoo to shake. “I’m glad you pulled through. Really.”

“What did you tell your parents?” You asked Johnny nervously. “About the barn?”

“I said one of my friends was going to keep a boat here for a few days. Their knees aren’t good enough to come all the way out here, they won’t come looking.” He then looked at you pointedly, “You should make an appearance, Y/N. While you’re here.”

“Are they up now?”

He looked at his watch. “Yeah. Your parents are actually over right now.”

You grimaced. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So I get back from my destination bachelorette trip that I didn’t bother telling them about and have enough time to help move a boat into storage but not see my parents—Daughter of the year,” you muttered regretfully.

“You did this to yourself, kid.” Johnny patted you on the head.

“I know, I know.”

Entering the Suhs’ living room where your parents were playing a game of cards, you went around to give everyone hellos, your parents first, then Johnny’s. Jungwoo was introduced as a friend of Johnny and Jaehyun’s, and lingered in the darkness by the doorway. Jaehyun had provided him a ballcap to help hide his iridophores in the shadows as much as he could as you tried to keep your conversations with your families short and quaint.

“When did you get back, Y/N?” Your mom asked.

“Earlier today—It’s been crazy, sorry I didn’t text you, Mom,” you immediately apologized, kissing her head quickly.

“We picked Y/N up from the airport and got distracted with the boat,” Jaehyun rescued you, flashing a charmingly dimpled smile at the parents. “Our bad, sorry, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Who is getting married?”

“Uhm, Chaeyoung.” You quickly picked a friend that you had met in college to guarantee that your mom didn’t know their parents and therefore wouldn’t try to congratulate anybody behind your back.

She nodded. “Ahh…”

“Whose boat did you say it was, Johnny?” Mr. Suh questioned his son next. “It’s not Yuta’s, is it?”

“Oh, he’s been talking about getting one since high school, hasn’t he?” Johnny’s mom laughed.

“Yep, it’s his,” Johnny nodded along.

Your dad appraised the four of you. “And he couldn’t even help you all?”

“Well, it’s mine too,” Jaehyun once again came in for the save. “We went in halfsies on it after my promotion. He was busy tonight, so I just went ahead and moved it.”

“Jungwoo, isn’t it?” Mr. Suh called out to the Galarii.

“Yes, sir.” He hastily gave a polite bow, fidgeting with the ballcap under the older man’s gaze.

“How did you get roped into their three-ring circus?”

“Yes, it’s better to stay out of the line of fire, especially where our kids are concerned,” your dad chuckled.

“I don’t mind helping, really,” Jungwoo replied, gaze hesitantly skittering over to you. You gave him an encouraging smile.

Johnny’s mom patted your cheek then. “I’m sure our Y/N must be tired after that trip. We’ll let you all go.”

“Thank you, Auntie,” you said appreciatively, giving her a kiss on the cheek as well as you tried to escape with the other guys.

Before you could fully retreat from the room, however, your mom caught your hand. The two mothers exchanged a look as they gestured for you to stoop down to their level. You obliged.

“Keep an eye on that new one, sweetie,” Mrs. Suh rather obviously pointed to Jungwoo even as she whispered.

“He couldn’t take his eyes off you this whole time,” your mom added, just as hushed as her friend.

“Goodbye, Auntie.” you purposefully ignored their statements, giving them final hugs and kisses goodbye. “Goodbye, Mom.”

As the four of you walked from the front door to Johnny’s waiting car far down the dirt driveway, Jungwoo sidled up to you.

“May I uh… May I know what that was about?” He asked quietly. “When they pointed at me?”

You giggled, stopping to pull on his shoulder and bring his ear down to you. “They were warning me about you. Said you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Jungwoo chuckled breathily. “An acute observation.”

“They said I should keep an eye on you.”

“That makes me sound dangerous.”

“Well—”

“Hey!” Johnny called out from the end of the drive, standing at his car and spinning his keys around his finger. “Are you done?”

“I’ve got class tomorrow!” Jaehyun added, though the teasing was apparent in his tone.

“Coming!” You chirped back, starting down the driveway again.

Johnny easily navigated back to your apartment, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel to the melody playing over his speakers. He finally broke the peaceful quiet in the car as your building was approaching.

“So how long are my parents going to be housing the boat?” He asked dryly.

“Oh, uhm,” you and Jungwoo looked at each other uncertainly. “I’m not sure yet. A few days, maybe more. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine. Just let me know when he’s going back.”

“Right. Yeah.”

He put the car in park and got out to give you one more hug on the sidewalk in front of your building. Your friend let out a deep breath with you still in his arms. “I’m really glad you’re back, Y/N. I’m serious.”

“I know, John,” you replied, hugging him back. “Thank you.”

Waving to Jaehyun through the window, you and Jungwoo headed inside. Thankfully, you hadn’t missed your rent payment while you were gone, so you still had an apartment to go back to. Looking at the day on your phone, you realized that you’d normally have work tomorrow.

“I wonder if I’ve been fired,” you snickered to yourself, closing your front door behind Jungwoo. He looked back at you, clearly worried, but you waved his concern off. “I hated that job anyway.”

The Galarii peered out past your curtains at the full moon in the sky. “It’s late. You should get some rest.”

“I’m not tired,” you admitted. “I think Galarian days are longer or something.”

“Do you remember what you were going to say? In the driveway at Johnny’s parents’ home?”

“Hm? Oh, when you were asking me about what our moms said?” You stretched your arms above your head. “You were confused because they made your interest in me sound dangerous. You almost died because of it, why are you confused about that?”

“I understand how it can be dangerous to me, but that doesn’t happen to you.” He stepped closer to you, cocking his head in confusion.

You sat down on your couch, gesturing for him to sit with you. “To humans, it still can be. Falling in love with the wrong person, exposing yourself like that. It can get you hurt, physically or emotionally. Sometimes they’re a bad person, or sometimes you’re both good people with the right intentions, but it still goes wrong.”

Jungwoo’s eyes widened. “And you still choose to do this? Over and over?”

“Yes, we do,” you laughed. “What other choice do we have?”

In the late afternoon, after you and Jungwoo had finally woken up and eaten breakfast, you went out for a walk at the seaside. Taking a deep breath in, you reveled in the feeling of the warm rays of sun on your skin again.

“Look at that blue sky,” you beamed up appreciatively. “Actually, I think I’m just happy to see any sky again.”

“Really?” Jungwoo prompted you.

“After being underground for so long? Yeah, being in a wide-open space feels good.” You did a big spin with your arms open. The beach was relatively empty in the middle of the week with most everyone at work. “Don’t get me wrong, it was cool to see where you’re from.”

“I like it here too,” he agreed with a smile as you returned to his side, lacing your fingers with his.

“The guys want to get dinner later, by the way,” you informed him. “They’re also happy you’re not dead.”

“That’s kind of them.”

Up ahead was a familiar area of damaged palm trees and brush, slowly beginning to grow back. You pointed to it with a grin, “Look, it’s where we met.”

Jungwoo squinted against the sun, looking at the foliage with interest. “It is?”

“Yep. Looks a bit different in the daytime, huh? And without a spaceship in it?”

“And I don’t think we ever approached it from this side.”

“And there’s no cops.” You pointed out a nearby firepit as you passed it. “That’s where we were all hanging out when you crashed. We thought you were a shooting star at first. Hyuck told everyone to make a wish.”

“Is that a human custom?”

“Superstition, yeah. You’re supposed to make a wish on a shooting star.”

“What did you wish for?”

You grinned. “If you tell, your wish isn’t going to come true.”

“Ah, I see. My apologies.”

“But mine already came true, so there’s no harm in saying, I think.”

Jungwoo looked at you curiously as you continued.

“I wished for something interesting to happen,” you admitted with a knowing smirk. “And the interesting things haven’t stopped since.”

He burst into laughter, halting your leisurely stroll as he clutched his stomach. “S-Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You began listing them off on your fingers, “Alien spaceship crashing right next to us, alien inside spaceship being almost dead, alien declaring I’m his soulmate, alien almost dying again, going to alien’s home planet to keep him from dying, alien getting better and taking me back to Earth. Been pretty interesting.”

He was still laughing, squatting down to try to compose himself.

“So maybe it wasn’t an assassination attempt that made you crash,” you said humorously. “Maybe it was my super powerful wish.”

“But-But I was already crashing when you made that wish,” he pointed out through giggles. “You used my-my crashing spaceship to make your wish.”

“Ah, technicalities.”

Jungwoo stood up on shaky feet, and you offered him your hand to steady him. “I’m starting to think that human choice is a more powerful force than gravity.”

“Really?”

“Or at least your choices.”

You sighed, grabbing his face with two hands to look him in the eye. “Jungwoo, you can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?�� He asked, eyes carefully watching your expression.

“Because you just called me a cosmic force and that’s definitely the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Because it makes me want to kiss you stupid on this public beach.”

His breaths trembled in the space between you. “There’s nobody here.”

“You make some good points.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, stopping before your lips met. “Jungwoo.”

“Hm?” His hands had settled on your waist, where they had been when you were dancing together.

“Is this okay? Can I kiss you?”

He swallowed, his eyes on yours as he hurriedly nodded. “Yes.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, slotting your mouths together finally. Jungwoo let out a hum of delight in the back of his throat, the curl at the corner of his lip apparent. His smile only continued to grow with each passing moment as you made good on your promise, bringing a hand around to cup his cheek.

When you dropped back onto flat feet again, he was standing there with a dazed, content smile on his face. His iridophores were no longer just glinting in the sun, they were fully pulsing with a soft, glowing light from under his skin, like a little heartbeat. You reached a hand up towards his cheek, and he stayed still as you traced over them in fascination. After a few moments, the glow faded away, and they were back to their normal reflective state.

“What was that?” You whispered breathlessly. “Are you okay—”

“I’m great,” he promised, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. “They’ll do that sometimes. When I’m really happy.”

“God, okay,” you relaxed. “It was like I really did have a fallen star in my hands.”

“If you say something romantic back, does that mean I get to kiss you stupid?”

“This is a concerning precedent I’ve set, isn’t it?”

“It’d only be fair.” He pouted.

You looked around, finding the beach still vacant of other patrons. “Alright, alright.”

After getting dinner with your friends, you and Jungwoo declined any rides offered, taking the long way back to your apartment.

“The guys were happy to hang out with you again,” you said brightly.

“Yes, it was nice to see them all,” Jungwoo replied.

“I can’t believe Hyuck asked you if you had tentacles though, honestly,” you shook your head. “He needs to keep that between him and incognito mode.”

“I take it he wasn’t being scientifically rigorous?”

You snorted, “No.”

You looked up at the navy blue sky, dotted with so few stars.

“What does the night sky look like on Galaria?” You asked Jungwoo. “I didn’t see it while we were there.”

“Many more stars,” he answered quietly. “I think because we don’t have any permanent light fixtures on our surface.”

“Ah, no light pollution. Must be nice.”

“It is.”

There was a comfortable lull in conversation, cars passing by and the distant sounds of city life continuing around you.

“You said once that you wouldn’t be happy behind a desk now that you knew that aliens existed,” Jungwoo recalled. “Since you’ve been to space and have come back home… Do you feel the same? Do you want to stay here?”

You tilted your head back and forth as you thought, still looking up at the stars. Finally, you answered, “While I was on Galaria, I needed to come home, to make sure everyone knew I was okay. And now that I’ve done that, I keep thinking about what we could’ve done on that trip if you hadn’t been, you know, dying.”

His voice was guarded as he prompted, “So you…”

“So if you’re asking me to come with you, Jungwoo, the answer is yes.” You looked over at him knowingly.

“Oh!” His iridophores were glowing again as he wrapped his arms around you tightly, vibrating with energy. “There’s so many places I can take you! You’ll love Irwon, and the lagoons in Til-Wyn, and I need to check that the Nightbringer’s Festival hasn’t happened yet!”

“Sounds like a date,” you grinned, hugging him back. “Several, actually.”

“And we’ll come back to Earth whenever you want. Say the word, and we’ll come right back for you to stay and see your loved ones for as long as you wish.”

“Thank you.” You took his hands as he let you go, catching his eye to tell him sincerely, “And I want to learn Galarii, too. So we can actually communicate, without one of us wearing your transcoder. Even if I speak with a silly human accent because I’m missing a flap or whatever.”

On top of the pulsing iridophores, you saw Jungwoo’s eyes get misty, a tear spilling over on one cheek as he was absolutely beaming down at you.

“Jungwoo are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, wiping at it with your thumb as another fell from his other eye.

“I think I am, yes,” he nodded, feeling at his damp undereyes.

“Tears of joy, I hope?” You continued dabbing at his cheeks as you tried to comfort him through his apparently bewildering situation.

“Do humans do that?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

He smiled and nodded. “Then yes, that must be it.”

“Oh God, come here.” You pulled him back into your arms. “Seriously, what am I going to do with you?”

He sniffled, then supplemented, “Keep me?”

You giggled and pressed a kiss to cheek, right on his glowing iridophores. “I guess so. Finders keepers, after all.”

⇢ masterlist

TAGLIST

@bee-the-loser @giirlfriendd @ppddpjdr @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01 @tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69 @winkeuu

#jungwoo x reader #nct x reader #jungwoo #jungwoo imagine #bjnet #nct imagine #nct #kim jungwoo #jungwoo imagines #nct imagines #f: finders keepers #f: losers weepers #writing #text #mine #wooloved #bias tag #i: jungwoo #*100

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queensimp69 · 10 months ago

Text

Killer Love (Slasher headcanons x reader)

How Y'all met/their first reaction to you

Billy Loomis -Movie: Ghost face

The two of you actually met through Stu, at first the two of you were just casual around each other but deep down Billy had this feeling about you he couldn’t get out of his head…It was almost addicting. Soon in his free time he’ll watch you from afar, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. He was going to get you one way or another. He would leave small gifts at your door, flowers, some jewelry, stuffed animals, Anything to please you.

Stu Matcher -Movie: Ghost face

The two of you met on the first day of school. You have just moved to Woodsboro and Stu was your trusted buddy to show you around school and town! The both of you both had the same humor so you both became close despite Billy’s disapproval (He’s Jelly) It barely been a month and Stu was head over heels for you and was willing to do Anything to make you his permanently. Like Billy he brought you gifts 24/7, anything you wanted or wished for was bought just for you and only you.

Mark Hoffman -Movie: Saw

You were driving home in your boyfriend's car late one night, everything was going fine but there was a strange car following you. Getting a little uncomfortable you drove to the Police station and sheepishly went inside, hoping you could just hide out there for a while. Mark, being the one of the only cops in the station, asked why you were there, as you explained he looked at the car you drove and realized it was the same car of Jigsaw's latest victim. He gave you a cup of water and went to call off Amanda, telling her about how it was the wrong person and to go to your boyfriend’s apartment. But there was just something about you that made him feel…Warm. He needed to know more of you…No not more… All of you. He put cameras in your house and would watch you for Hours.

Bo Sinclair -Movie: House of wax

You and your “Friends” were on a road trip, it was meant to be peaceful and fun but as you took a sip of your bottle of water you started to feel light headed… A few hours later you woke up on the side of a road, your clothes were ripped and you were covered with bruises. Sitting up you looked around to see yourself at a gas station, it seemed empty. Suddenly you heard someone yell at you, asking you why on earth you were laying on the ground of their gas station. Looking around you looked at the man, he was a dirty blonde and pretty dirty, as if he was working on a car, roughly 6 '2 and nicely fit. He gave you a helping hand before waiting for you to explain WHY you were at his gas station just laying on the ground. You still dazed and explained your situation, as you talked you saw how his face changed from disgust at your “Friends” to pity. Feeling kind he offered a place to stay for a while and in return you helped around, but in the back of his mind he knew that he was never going to let you Leave as he fully set on claiming you as his… Permanently.

Vincent Sinclair -Movie: House of wax

(Same situation as Bo But instead on bo liking you he just pity’s you)

As Bo leads you to an empty bedroom He mentions how sometimes his brother would come around and stay in the bedroom next to yours. A few days passed of you staying with Bo but something was odd…You never saw Bo’s brother’s, mainly the one who slept in the room next to yours… You asked Bo about it but he just brushed you off saying it was normal but offered to bring you to him. It was a brief meeting but for Vincent it was forever, He just couldn’t just take his eyes off you! You were the perfect art piece, He would watch you for hours, taking notes and drawing you 24/7 until he ran out of paper.

Lester Sinclair -Movie: House of wax

(Same situation as Bo But instead on bo liking you he just pity’s you)

As Bo showed you around, the two of you encountered the youngest brother of the Sinclair’s. Quickly Lester got amused and offered to take you off Bo’s hands and drive you around as he was bored. As the two of you drove around, y'all made light conversation, happily talking and cracking jokes but before long Lester realized he had to get back to work on the road :(, feeling a little confected he decided to take you with him as a make up road trip for you! (This one is sweet and not crazy XD)

Brahms heelshire -Movie: The boy

It was pretty simple, you had just moved and needed a place to stay for the time being until you had saved enough money for a house of your own. The many kind people of the town told you to live in the old manor and fix it up and in return they will bring food and stuff as thanks. For the first day you saw a list of rules, thinking nothing of it you followed them as you went along you day, the rules weren’t hard or anything so it wasn’t much of a problem but…You wouldn’t help but constantly feeling eyes on you…As if Somebody was watching you through the walls. (Ya’ll don’t really meet until later on during first impressions 😅)

Thomas Hewitt -Movie: Texas chainsaw massacre

After a few years of saving money you finally were able to move! It took a few months to get a company to do it but they made your home in the middle of state Texas and in front of a pretty white house, After a few days a nice lady knocked on your door with a pie in hand, the two of you talked as you ate the pie together, she talked about a guy named Thomas. After she left around 7pm you finally got really to bed, never realizing the Man who was watching you through the window…Although you didn’t know Thomas or who he looked like, Thomas knew you and adored how you looked in your cute little pajamas.

Michael Myers -Movie: Halloween

You had just moved right next to the Myer’s house, you didn’t know much about it cause whenever you asked people they never gave a straight answer…Odd. But you didn’t have time to poke any further as it was almost halloween! You happily got your new house all decorated and stocked up on a lot of candy days in advance. Then the day finally came. Filled with joy you happily passed out candy and small toys until you had one piece left. Looking around you saw a tall man in a blue jumpsuit and a white mask standing in front of the Myer’s house, you slightly questioned his costume choice but didn’t think too much of it as you waved him over. He took a few minutes to come over but when he did you happily gave him the last piece of candy saying how lucky he is before saying good night and going back inside. Later that night as you slept you never knew about that same man Standing in the corner of your room watching you as he fell deeper in love with this “Kind” person.

The end! Please tell me if you want more and have a wonderful, horny day :D

#mark hoffman x reader #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #house of wax #halloween #texas chainsaw massacre #scream movie #billy loomis x reader x stu macher #slasher headcanons

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h0rnyauth0r · 1 year ago

Text

on a mission with 141, you and ghost are forced to act as a fake couple to gather intel on an important political figure. when he comes out without his mask on and ends up kissing you, there comes a point where neither of you can handle holding back anymore

i'm back from my break for now :) i'm sorry if this isn't that great but i tried so that's all that matters

word count: 2.8k

warnings: semi-public sex, cumming inside, unprotected sex, reader w/ vagina (who uses she/her pronouns to be safe), pussy eating

the whole group has convened inside of a hotel room across from where this big scandal will be occurring. there’s a politician who has made plots with a terrorist group and you’ve been ordered to partner up with one of the many men of 141 to act as a couple to gain entry and find your way inside to get evidence.

soap was the initial choice, but he is well-known within the ranks of this terrorist group as he’s been apart of raids involving them before. actually, all of 141 has. however, a conclusion came about when price suggested that ghost join and participate.

and here you are now, putting on a dress all too formal for you, with a dramatic face of makeup and hair curled loosely. you’re nervous to fuck this mission up as you tuck a gun into the holster you have around your thigh, knife placed safely in the smaller addition.

you’ve done infiltrating before, but this is on a whole other level. your body is tense as you finally make your way back into the room with the rest of 141. “okay, i think i’m ready. how are we gonna do this?” your voice is shaky with nerves, but gaz places his hand on you and gives you a warm smile.

“we’re going to be right with you. just say the code word and we’ll be there.”

“yeah, and ghost is with you too. he’ll take great care of you.”

you nod at the men in the room, inhaling deeply and eventually making your way across the roads and to the grand building. it’s a museum that has a ballroom on the lower floor, used for special occasions such as this one.

you have no idea where ghost is and it’s making you worried sick, standing in this line with one of your fake tickets for entry. you find yourself tapping your foot to the ground repeatedly, an action that has a couple in front of you glaring and scoffing at the noise.

you stop, feeling embarrassed that you’re drawing attention to yourself. “nervous?” you hear a voice behind you, recognizing it as ghost’s. when you turn around, your mouth goes agape and you freeze up at the sight of this foreign man.

a suit that matches in color to yours, gelled hair, and such a handsome face. you’re in awe of the fact that ghost even had a face behind the mask, especially one so handsome.

“simon.” you say softly, holding out your arm for him to grasp onto.

he does, strong arm gripping yours tightly as he pulls your body close to his own. “remember, love, we need to look official. we’re married tonight.” his lips, oh his lips, are right next to your ear as he whispers to you.

your face feels as though flames may burst over your skin as you breathe deeply, nodding at him and facing towards the entrance again. the line’s moved forward a bit, so you opt to continue following until you’re nearing the security guards.

not much time passes before you’re handing your invitation cards over, and your eyes quickly pass over a tattoo on one of the guards’ forearm. the guards are apart of the terror group, you realize from the familiar symbol pressed in red ink.

when you notice that the guard’s noticed you look, you opt to pass off your staring by leaning into ghost’s arm with a giggle. “‘m so excited to be here tonight.” you fake a little slur, noticing the guard’s stiff demeanor go lax as he motions to two of you through.

you even opt to trip a little over your heels to ensure that he thinks you’re already tipsy, which seems to work as the two of you finally walk through the entrance.

“you saw that too, right?” you ask him quietly, pulling him into a hall.

simon nods, “we have to let them know that the security is involved like we thought.”

he presses down on the small button on his suit, speaking lowly into it. “the security is also apart of the terror group. tread carefully once backup is needed.”

you hear footsteps approach and push into his body a little, nerves bubbling up. when a random staff member comes in, he wraps his arm around you and smiles at the worker. “i’m afraid my wife and i are a little confused, we’re trying to join the party.” he says.

the staff person leads the two of you out to the main ballroom, adorned with seating and what looks to be a dancefloor. you aren’t shocked by the classical music playing rather loudly, announcing your fake names with simon for the person to help find your seating arrangements.

once you’re seated, the most boring part begins. more people show up, and then the man you’re investigating does an announcement. it happens to be some bullshit about how he wants nothing more than to help the community. after this, it’s time to finally do some snooping around.

“we should stay together.” simon says, and you nod at him.

as you begin walking around the space of the building, you opt to have some conversation. “what’s this guy up to exactly?” you ask your superior.

“trafficking.”

“oh, guns? drugs?”

“neither, actually. children.”

you decide that asking anymore questions may be pointless as you find a room that has several others inside admiring artworks. “should we look here?” you ask, looking up at him.

he glances down at you with a nod. “could be something useful.”

unfortunately, there’s no evidence of anything suspicious inside of that room. you keep looking around together in different rooms for anything that’s suspicious: a lot of the terrorist members, large groups of people acting shady, anything. but there’s no luck yet.

you start feeling off though, like someone may be following you. you think simon can feel it too with the way his walking becomes more rushed and careful.

“follow my lead. please understand that what i’m going to do is for the sake of the mission.” his voice is soft as he mumbles, leading you into a distant bathroom and shutting the door without locking it.

you look up at him curiously, head tilting the slightest. “what are we doing?” you ask, eyes anxiously looking into his.

he pushes you against a wall, lips immediately crashing into yours in a deep kiss with his hands pulling yours to hook around his neck. you freeze for a moment before reciprocating his touch, leaning into it and even letting out a small moan at the feeling.

his body is pressed into yours, teeth knocking against yours for a moment before moving more comfortably. you can’t tell if this is even for the mission anymore with the way his tongue is invading your mouth and just how hard you can feel him getting in his pants.

however enjoyable this may be for the both of you, it’s cut short.

the door bursts open and you both pull away rather hesitantly, seeing two of the security from earlier backing away from the doorway. “i’m sorry, do you mind? we’re busy in here.” simon says in an annoyed tone, watching the two men sheepishly walk away and close the door.

your breathing is heavy and you feel dizzy as you look at him, seeing an emotion in his eyes that can only be lust. you gulp and try to do anything to look away from him and focus on the mission at hand, but when his hand pulls your chin up to keep your eyes on him you couldn’t give less of a fuck about anything else.

“we need to-”

“no. just shut up.” he says before leaning down and kissing you once more. his movements become more feverish as his hands run down your body, caressing your waist and squeezing at your hips.

his lips are downright addictive, leaving a yearning inside of you that you’re certain can never be satiated. one of his hands reaches to the side and you hear the lock on the door click before it’s wrapping around your throat.

you sigh against his lips and finally give into it all, a certain thrill rising up and making you even more desperate as you whine against his lips. his thigh presses in between your thighs and it makes you gasp, which is when he takes the chance to let his tongue enter your mouth.

his lips begin moving down your jaw to your neck and he bites at your throat before he’s playing with the bottom of your dress and pulling the fabric up and showing off your cute little panties.

“you can be quiet, yeah?” he asks, and you bite your lip and nod.

he props you up onto the counter, dress lifted, before getting down onto his knees and letting his fingers brush against your panties. the small amount of stimulation has you closing your eyes tightly, sucking in a deep breath.

his thumb brushes against your clit through your panties before firmly caressing the area. you throw your head back, whispering out the word ‘please’ to him.

he reaches towards the top of your panties and pulls them down, also opting to remove the holster that holds your gun and knife. when your panties are fully removed, he stares at your glistening pussy like it’s a meal ready for him to eat.

“beautiful.” he mutters, face leaning down closer. when he presses a kiss against your clit you mewl out, clasping a hand over your mouth and clenching your eyes shut tightly.

his hands reach down and pull your lower lips open, tongue reaching out and circling against your clit in repeated motions. your head is spinning, body beginning to grow sweatier and pleasure rising through your lower half.

his lips eventually suckle around your clit and you find yourself gasping out, free hand reaching and pulling at his soft hair. you know you’re probably fucking up the style he did, but don’t care with the way he plays with your pussy.

as his movements continue, never faltering, you can feel your orgasm grow quickly. the music plays distantly behind the door but you can barely hear it over the wet noises his mouth makes against your pussy and your own quiet moans.

his assault feels never ending, sparks igniting up your spine and sending goosebumps across your body as you reach your high. you try hard not to cry out, biting down on your lower lip so hard that blood is drawn and your eyes are rolling back from both the pleasure and the pain.

“there ya go. good girl.” he says lowly, lightly rubbing on your clit with his thumb until your hips are twitching and trying to back away from him due to the overstimulation.

he finally lifts himself up and leans towards you, capturing your lips with his own once more intensely. you moan against his lips when his hips grind into your bare thighs, opening your knees to invite him in for more.

he’s quick to undo the belt on his trousers, quickly tossing it aside and then finally releasing his cock from his pants. you find yourself looking down at it and biting your bottom lip.

you should be working right now, but instead you’re about to do something that could get the both of you into so much trouble. any logic or reason is thrown out of the window when the tip of his dick rubs against you, slick sounds filling your ears as you look at him with the utmost want in your eyes.

“you ready?”

“please.”

his lidded eyes gaze at you lazily as he pushes just the tip in, searching your face for any discomfort or pain. your mouth falls open loosely as you sigh at the feeling of how big he is.

as he pushes inside of you, he lets out a soft moan, “fuck, you feel so good.”

you just know that his moaning will now be one of your most favorite sounds. he keeps pushing in, and eventually, bottoms out with his pelvis brushing against you.

you feel so full and already exhausted, but there’s a buzz that’s bubbling up within you that has you so ready for more. his breathing is so heavy in your ear as he leans into you, lips pressing against your own gently.

gentle for just a moment, before it becomes more needy and forced. that’s when his hips pick up movement, and you’re reeling away from his lips and pressing against him at the heaviness of his movements inside of you.

“oh my fuck.” you whimper out in a high-pitched tone, teeth gnawing down on your bottom lip once more as your pussy throbs against him.

his thrusts start going harder and more urgently in a manner that has clapping echo against the walls of the bathroom. you can tell he wants to finish this fast, to get back to what you’re both supposed to be doing.

“gonna make this quick. i can take my time with you another day.” he says in a rushed tone, voice cracking a little as he picks up his pace even more.

one of his hands reaches out and grasps at your throat, squeezing just enough to have you wheeze out a moan. you find yourself lightheaded and in a dizzy haze that makes his cock feel even better than before.

your hands grip onto the arm latched out in front of you, eyes shutting and biting down on your bottom lip through struggled breaths as he continues his assault on your pussy.

you can already feel an orgasm brushing up on you from the friction against your clit, which only worsens as he leans closer to thrust at a different angle.

“y’doing so good, yeah?” he says in a gruff tone, going faster and faster.

you feel like you’re going to cum in any moment with the way his thrusts angle so he’s rubbing on your clit, and your toes curl once it hits you for the second time of the night.

you cry out, wheezing when his hand tightens its grip on your throat. you feel like you might pass out as it hits hard, simon’s thrusts becoming somehow inhuman as he moans out quietly.

eventually his hips stutter and he’s cumming inside of you head leaning down and resting on your shoulder as he keeps thrusting with small grunts and groans escaping his mouth.

both of you are breathing heavily as you sit there for a moment, him pulling out and quickly fixing himself. he helps you regain some composure silently, eyes continuously finding your own with a certain glint to them.

“we shouldn’t have done this.” you whisper to him.

“but we did. let’s get this over with. quickly.”

you follow him out of the room after you both fix up your hair and clothing to look the same as before. you don’t know it but your makeup is smudged in a way that makes it obvious to those around you that you were up to something in that bathroom.

it doesn’t take long before you find yourself in a room with two guards knocked out cold, and you’re helping ghost with looking through some important documents that show what the politician has really been up to behind the scenes.

after just a few minutes, you and ghost have to call for the rest of 141 to come inside for backup. it’s hard to not make all of the citizens panic when gunshots end up fired, but eventually you’re all packed into a room and finding out that this location is holding a group of individuals who would be traded for money for this politician.

it’s a long and tiring mission with a hopeful conclusion. the politician ends up arrested and you help the local police with rescuing and assisting many of these children with getting to a local area where they will be reunited with their families.

you feel like you will die of embarrassment when soap drops the news of ghost accidentally turning his mic to communicate with the team on during your lovely adventure, and specifically while he was fucking you in the bathroom.

neither of you get into trouble due to the success of the mission, but price sternly warns the both of you (mostly ghost) that if this ever happens again you will both be forced to clean every surface of the base using only a toothbrush for each of you.

despite everything, you and ghost reach a different level of intimacy on a free night. and you make sure it’s not in a bathroom surrounded by people who might kill you if they know what you’re up to.

taglist: @wwwurmomdotcom @kovieky @chibijusstuff @clove-shitposts

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#call of duty smut #cod #female reader #x reader #call of duty #cod smut #smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost

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luveline · 2 years ago

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thought of a cute eddie and roan request!! since it’s almost summer time they go to the pool or beach?? roans having a blast

thank you!! dad!eddie takes you and his baby for a trip to the beach (lake)!! this is when they haven't been together as long and roan is younger!! dad eddie x fem!reader ♥︎ 3k

Eddie's daughter is nearly five years old, about 3ft 5in, and weighs less than fifty pounds. She has slightly chubby cheeks, a huge smile, and she has never been this excited in her life.

"I swear I've taken her on vacation before," Eddie says, his eyes moving between the road, the side of your face, and Roan's joyous expression in the rear view mirror almost frantically.

You push your sunglasses up your nose. "I believe you. I've seen the photos, Edward."

He snorts. "You know that's not my name."

"But it makes derision much funnier to call you something formal."

"You usually go with Munson."

"I'm feeling festive today, it's such a good day."

Roan agrees from the back with a small shout.

You turn in your seat before Eddie can, eyes creased with affection when you see her again. Roan is in her best summer dress with her hair braided back out of her face, ending before her ears so her curls can take centre stage. She's got her delicate blue cardigan on, and a sandwich in her hands. You've been trying to break the long drive into smaller bits for her with snacks and songs, and it's worked thus far.

"Do you want another sandwich, baby?" you ask, clicking open the the tupperware in your lap. "We've only got PB and J left, Eds. Can I give her that? I don't wanna ruin her dress."

"If she wants it," he says, shrugging. His expression is cut short as he turns the wheel sharply to the side. "Woah! Sorry, ladies, I almost missed the turn. What a loser."

You tear Roan's sandwich into a smaller one and hand it back through the seats. "Try not to get it on your dress, princess, it's so pretty," you plead.

"I won't," she says. As soon as you hand her the sandwich she drops it on her skirts. She's just old enough to understand what's happened, and giggles like she thinks she's about to be told off.

You've seen Eddie do it enough times. Roan drops a crust or spills a drink and Eddie pretends to be cross, eyebrows drawn together in an unconvincing glare. "Roan," he always says, and if he can reach he chucks her under the chin with his knuckle, "how dare you. You know accidents aren't allowed."

It warms your heart that her reaction to a potential chastisement is laughter.

Roan has firmly passed baby stage: she doesn't look like a big baby, she looks like a very small child, with deceptively long arms and legs. She waves one leg toward you and says in her high-pitched, sometimes illegible voice, "My shoe's coming off."

Her shoe isn't coming off, but the buckle around her ankle has come undone.

"Oh no," you dote, leaning through the two front seats of Eddie's car to help. "What happened? You're too happy, babe, all your dancing must've wiggled the buckle free."

"I'm too happy," she agrees, "we're going to the beach now."

"We're nearly there," Eddie says.

Indiana Beach is an amusement park on Lake Shafer ninety miles away from Indianapolis, which is a good eighty miles from Hawkins. If you were to draw this journey on a map, it would look like the hands of a clock at three thirty, or a 'Y' without one of its eyes. With Eddie's cautious driving but not much traffic, it had taken you guys nearly three hours from the time you set off from his trailer at seven in the morning to now. It's an aching amount of time to confine a child, and Roan hasn't slept a wink, so her happy attitude is miraculous and perhaps precarious.

Which is to say, you smother her in love and hope it will keep her from becoming too agitated. You and Eddie have already discussed the possibilities of her behaviour — if she started a screaming crying tantrum as she sometimes does, Eddie would pull over and you'd climb in the back. If your company didn't help, he'd pull over again and you'd take a break wherever you were. If she still didn't improve, you'd think about going home. The point of the trip is for Roan to have fun.

You can see the Galaxi from a mile away, a huge curling roller coaster on the Indiana Beach pier. Eddie starts grinning, really smiling, the kind you don't get to see very often. He smiled like that when he asked you to be his girlfriend outside of the Hawk movie theatre, and he smiled worse when you told him you loved him for the first time, your hand pressed against his chest and your face hiding in the crook of his neck.

"Ro!" he says loudly, turning onto a side street in search of the parking lot, "look, baby! Can you see the lake? The beach? It's so sunny, oh my goodness."

His hand reaches across for you. He squeezes your leg roughly, and it aches in the best way, fingertips digging into the soft inside of your thigh. You can't help laughing, pleasantly startled by his obvious joy.

Roan starts talking and you're sorry but you're not an expert in her warbling yet, not when she's speaking a mile a minute. You catch "beach," and "sunshine," and "daddy!" but that's about it.

He drives into a ticket parking lot a fifteen minute walk from the pier and finds a space with ease. You quickly undo your belt and get out, stretching your arms behind your back and leaning forward to roll your neck out. You're sore from all the back and forth, attention split between Eddie and Roan for the last three hours.

Eddie gets out on the other side, and he should get Roan's stroller first, but it was never going to happen. He opens Roan's door and the excited stream of chatter increases between the both of them. You come around the back of the car and watch him pull her out of her car seat, fussing over her skirts and her hair and her tiny shoes. He makes one of those heaving dad groans when he picks her up, one arm skewed under her butt and the other behind her back. It's more hug than carry.

"Hey, baby," he says, "how's that? Is it nice to be out of the car?" His hand moves to her legs. "Should we do some walking and stretching?"

He rubs her legs.

"Daddy, it's sunny, it's like– like with Uncle Wayne, when'd he says that the sunshine is out to play," she says, her hands moving from her chest and into the air above her head like a burst. "It's not messing around!"

You laugh, your heart melted to a wet goo. Eddie gives you an eyeful, as if to say, Yeah, I made her, that's my kid, and I know she's the cutest thing on God's green earth, thank you very much for noticing.

"It's not," he agrees, putting her down on the ground. You stand a little ways away, knowing she won't run into traffic but worried anyhow.

Eddie holds one of her hands and Roan puts the other one back in the air, stretching up big and tall. Eddie strokes a hair behind her ear, and his thumb lingers affectionately on her cheek.

"Will you wear your hat?" he asks.

"Do you have a hat?"

"Uh, no, daddy doesn't have one," he says.

"But I do!" you butt in.

They turn to look at you. You open the trunk, digging through your packed bags to find the sunhat you'd brought with you. You pop it on your head and turn to smile at them. "See? So you wear yours and we'll be matching."

Roan doesn't hesitate to crowd your legs. You grab her hat from her 'baby' bag and place it carefully on her head. It hides her beautiful hairdo, but it'll keep her safe from the heat. She looks you in the face and grins.

"Beautiful," you compliment.

Eddie doesn't look quite as summer ready as you both. His hair is down, shiny clean but unlikely to stay that way considering the heat. He's wearing blue denim rather than black, something he'd spoken of with horror but more than pulls off, and a black Motorhead t-shirt. There's one chain around his neck that he never takes off, but besides that he's sans jewellery.

"Roan," he says, "we're gonna walk to the pier to stretch our legs, but you have to hold hands. And you can sit down in the stroller when they're tired again." She nods hurriedly at the idea that she'll be free for a while. "Okay. Alright."

Eddie gets her stroller out and unfolds it, putting her baby bag in the seat. You rake your fingers through the ends of Roan's hair while you wait, the sun warming the back of your neck already.

Eddie locks the car, and the three of you start toward the pier. Roan holds your hand and Eddie pushes the stroller out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk that leads to the pier.

The smell of salt tickles your nose. Roan's hand flutters in yours like a hummingbird, excited gasps breaching her lips when you pass an ice cream stand bragging rainbow cotton candy bigger than her head, kaleidoscope gelato, Popsicles in cherry red, raspberry blue and lime green. Her eyes widen at the sight of huge diamond kites, yellow rubber dinghies, surfboards and wetsuits dripping water down sandy ankles.

You know Eddie's been saving. He confessed, when you'd brought up your concern one night, that he wants her to have everything.

What's going on? you'd asked, frowning at his bedraggled face after another late shift. You knew Wayne had been picking Roan up from daycare to let him keep working, and it just hadn't been like Eddie to do that. You can tell me anything.

You'd been expecting, regrettably, money troubles. The Munson's aren't rich but they've never been hurting for money since you met, and all these extra hours has you assuming the worst.

Eddie rubbed a tired eye. I just want her to have everything. I don't want to say no. Not even once. When we go on vacation, I want her to point at things and I want her to know how it feels to be able to have them without a fight.

Admirable, a tinsy bit silly. Of course he wants that, isn't that what everyone wants for their children? Admirable, because he wanted it and he worked for it, and he saved up enough to bring Roan here and spoil her within an inch of her life. Silly, because Roan doesn't ask for much. She does ask for stuff, of course, but she's not gonna beg him for a two hundred dollar professional kite, or state of the art arm floaties. But just because you think it's a little silly doesn't mean you aren't incredibly in love with him, impressed by and proud of his efforts.

He wants to get Roan everything. And so they start with shaved ice.

It's the second stand you see, just off of the pier with a long, long line. Eddie scoops her up off of the floor so she can see the different flavour combinations, and it's no surprise when she chooses all the pinks and red. Strawberry, cherry, and pink lemonade. The cone is bigger than her hands and costs a ridiculous seven dollars.

The small smile on Eddie's lips when he can crack out a crisp twenty dollar bill and hand it over makes you smile, too. It's satisfying. All that hard work was worth it for this moment.

And the moment after. Eddie takes the snow cone and Roan audibly sighs.

"Oh, my gosh," she says.

You laugh. Eddie looks at you from over his shoulder and beams.

Roan wants to do everything, as Eddie predicted. She plays arcade games she's too short for, hoisted up on his knee or in your arms, face screwed in concentration every time, and though the controls escape her she loves hitting the big red button and watching the claw come down.

But she also wants stuff money can't buy. She wants Eddie to hug her when the clown walks past because he's big and bright and a little scary. She wants kisses when they stand at the side of the pier to look at the lake, blue and clear as an ocean, and drops some of her own against Eddie's sweaty cheek when she's been loved up. She wants you both to swing her by the hand when you're walking down the ramp to the beach, which is difficult but not impossible with the stroller in Eddie's other hand.

She wants to get ice cream, and a slurpee despite her half eaten snow cone. She wants soft pretzels and churros and a hotdog with extra onions. She wants a surfboard, and you dissuade Eddie from getting her one of the proper ones in favour of a floatie.

She wants you to put the finishing touches on her crumbly sand castles, and to cuddle in your lap when Eddie makes her drink from a cold bottle of water. When you've been sat in the sun so long that your brain is jellified and you have more sand in your shoes than sock, she springs up from her stomach where she'd been kicking her little feet drawing smiley faces in the sand and demands you take her down to the waterfront. You leave your towels on and the stroller further up the bank and pray for the best, and Eddie peels out of his t-shirt and rolls up his pants a couple of feet from the water. Eddie pulls her sandy dress off to reveal the swimming costume she'd been wearing underneath, a bright yellow costume with a skirt, not too tight to hurt, and bends down at the waist to talk to her as they wait for the water to rush in. You encourage armbands over her elbows.

"It's gonna be cold, Ro, so we have to run in! Are you ready?"

"I'm super ready!" she says, squeezing his hand and squaring her shoulders.

You secure her bands and take her other hand into your right hand, your shoes in your left, bracing yourself for the shock.

You run in full pelt and screaming with joy. Roan's voice turns into a stream of "oh my god oh my gosh daddy pick me up'd it's too cold oh my gosh," as the water covers your calves and her waist. Eddie immediately leans down to pick her up, out of choices and surprised by her loud aversion. Water stains him from knee to navel.

"It's not that bad, babe," he says, though he meets your gaze over her head and mock glares at your shaking head. It's freezing. "We just have to get used to it. Ready?"

He doesn't let her get ready. He doesn't let you get ready. He grabs your wrist and pulls you with him, fighting the cold as the gentle lake tide laps at your waists.

"Eddie, our pants!" you protest. You'd brought spare clothes in case of any accidents. This is decidedly not an accident.

"Please, sweetheart, just come in," he says.

He should legally be prevented from saying please and sweetheart in the same sentence. You submerge yourself to the waist as he wanted and stand there in the water, the taste of river water heavy on your lips now, splashes of cold wetting higher up your chest. It's close to intolerable, the only saving grace the heavy heat of the sunshine above you.

"How's that, Roanie?" he asks.

He's clearly having a blast. His eyes are brighter than the sun dappling that kisses the waves.

"It feels squishy," you say, adjusting your footing in the sandy bottom of the lake.

"This is so FUN!" Roan shouts, letting go of Eddie's neck to put her hands in the water. She splashes the surface and soaks Eddie's t-shirt to the neck in the process.

You almost fall over trying to find his waist in the blue. You wrap and arm around Roan and Eddie wraps and arm around you, the three of you much too deep in the lake and with no plans of turning around just yet.

"This is so fun," he says, kissing her cheek, kissing yours. "We should do this every year."

You smile at his chest.

You hadn't realised, yet, that he wanted you every year. Roan babbles her agreements, talking about her snow cone and the sunshine and her floatie. She stops suddenly.

Eddie rubs her shoulder, water shining across her pale skin. "What, babe?"

"Daddy, where's my floatie?"

You head back up the beach to find it. Her stroller and your towels have been left alone, but the floatie must've been too tempting.

Eddie, without complaint, goes to buy another.

—

more Eddie and Roan ♡

please reblog if you enjoyed, it means so much!

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things

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mariyekos · 2 months ago

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Fic preview for DMC friends. Takes place post DMC5, Dante and Sparda centric, and is very much unfinished. This is only the first 2200 words of a currently 3400 word also unfinished fic, but I thought it would be fun to share the beginning before I lose all steam!

The seal shatters.

Sparda lets out a sputtering breath, falling to the floor.

Finally, finally, he is free.

Everything exists in a haze, the lingering remnants of the spell which had captured him locking away memory and reason, the length of his capture, the method by which it was achieved, and the purpose of it sitting outside the distance he can reach, but it matters not. He is free. He is free. Escape is within his grasp.

Energy spills forth from the fragmented bindings that once held him, the remains of his prison disintegrating around him as whatever magic had kept them in place finally, ultimately, fails. His hands shake as he raises them, the light of a magic circle flickering at his feet until it too dissipates, an unknown length of time having sapped enough of Sparda’s strength that he’s unable to make out anything but the presence of a blurry glow before he is left in total darkness. Shudders wrack his too-thin frame as a power exceeding his own barely-there energy cowers at its touch. For a brief moment, the glow beneath him roars to life, a screech grating against his eardrums as a dying seal attempts to draw strength from the leylines crossing under this place.

Yet the hum of the circle quickly dies. The world around him goes silent. Power flows back into the earth and away from this place, leaving it empty and cold.

There is no presence but his own. Whoever had sealed him is gone, the air still and stale and unnervingly empty.

It matters not. The method of his entrapment has failed. Whether it is a temporary failure or permanent one he does not know. He cannot risk being captured- siphoned from? Perhaps? His body is weak, his flesh sallow, his head pounding, and the demonic energy which he’d always retained to at least some extent since he’d sealed the vast majority of his power along with the Demon World is near absent, the faintest of faint threads of it so meager as to perhaps be naught more than a memory- and thus cannot stay to investigate. Whoever caught him- by whichever means they caught him- he has not the strength to pursue.

Nor does he have the true desire for it. For now, drained as he is, all he wants is to hide and sleep. To nest and recover. To lie undisturbed for an age as his strength returns and the world moves on without him or his power. He can’t afford to lose any more. Not with the way his body trembles and his chest aches in a way it has not in millennia, demonic senses dulled to the point they’re unable to supplement the failing human hearing and vision this form possesses.

The world is muffled and blurred. He feels numb. He is not safe. He cannot remain where he is. He needs to find shelter. He must escape.

As he emerges from the cave in which he’d been trapped, something in the distance calls out to him.

A remnant of his power. A familiar energy. A Beacon.

Safety. Security. Recovery. Health.

He stumbles forth.

LINEBREAK

Sparda cannot say how long he walks for.

Weak as his body feels, drained as he is compared to the state in which he should be, he is nonetheless more durable than a human, and his steps continue past a setting and rising sun, the number of which he’s too dazed to count, aware of the difference in the light, but not able to truly process or remember enough of the passage of time or even the motions of his own flesh to be certain of the count.

He passes by human settlements. Through one or two. Along a road with rushing vehicles which for a miracle do not hit him. Whispers and shouts fade out of his memory, unnecessary to the purpose of his trip. The rush of air from a giant mass of steel narrowly missing him doesn’t shake him; normally were he to be hit, it would cause minor damage at most. He has not the energy to consider what excess damage might be caused were he to be hit in his current state.

In time he enters a city, the buildings looming over him tall and unfamiliar. He does not care for places like this. With his wings unavailable to him, he feels trapped.

Yet it is in the city that the Beacon lies.

And so he stumbles forth, step by step, strength fading, his trip having drained him of what little of his energy reserves remained after his capture.

He will reach it. The Beacon. Safety. Security. A place to recover. A place of his power. A relic he’d imbued or an old hideaway of his, he thinks through the haze that has enveloped him. Something precious to him. Essential. Unbelievably strong in his weakened state.

It will protect him as he recovers. If he can merely latch onto it- reclaim the power he imbued it with and take it into himself to heal his wounds and restore his lost power- he will be able to return to a state in which his body is not failing him, in which he feels himself and not a mere ghost, in which memory and reason are more than just dreams, and so pursue it he will until his legs fail him.

He reaches a building.

He pushes over the door.

The Beacon is inside.

As the last of his strength leaves him, he hears a shout, feels a familiar brush of power, and then knows no more as the realm of unconsciousness lays down its claim and a blackness different to that which he’d been trapped in for so, so long settles around him.

LINEBREAK

Twice does consciousness brush against Sparda before he wakes. The first is to the rumbling of a human voice, low and indiscernible through the static of the void in which Sparda resides, viscous and heavy and unwelcome to the idea of wakefulness. He makes out no words before sleep claims him once more. To his tired ears, the voice is little more than colorful sound. The second is to a brush of energy so like his own, yet- tainted, somehow, or rather different, the quality or morality or justification for it indeterminate through the fog of sleep, not nearly as heavy as before yet thick enough still to keep him downed. Despite the difference between the energy that brushes over him and the energy slowly building in his own core, there is something that feels right to it, as if the energy was meant to morph, meant to change, meant to turn into something no longer Sparda’s but its new owner's own. The realization takes much out of him, and with it does Sparda drift off once more.

When he finally does wake, it’s to the thrum of a machine, mechanical and uneven, as if the thing is struggling to stay on. He is warm- truly warm, a warmth that not only sits in the air and blankets his body, but bubbles in his core, the chill that pervaded every inch of his being during his imprisonment replaced by a sense of calm and welcome. He is healing. Slowly, but assuredly. Though his trek may have drained the last of his energy reserves, they will replenish themselves with time. Especially now that he's found himself-

His eyes, having struggled not to close as the lull of sleep tried to claim him even as wakefulness fought its way forth, snap open. Realization washes over him.

This place feels familiar, yes.

But he has never been here before. And it is most certainly not his domain. It quite distinctly bears the claim of another.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

Sparda's breath catches in his throat. He's sitting up at this point, left hand clinging to the bed while his right clenches the sheets that have bunched at his waist. A wave of dizziness washes over him; his strength yet wanes, and the quick movement nearly overwhelmed him.

The one who spoke is to his left. Sparda's vision struggles to focus on the speaker- on the Beacon, that thing that feels so much like him yet a thing all its own, that thing which is in fact a conscious being, he now realizes, and that another being absorbed and converted his power so readily sits leaden in the pit of his stomach- as he blinks the dizziness away.

The Beacon does not Speak as Sparda's vision clears. They merely wait. It is an uneasy few seconds.

When his sight returns to the level at which it should be while he's in human form, Spqrda is dealt yet another mental blow.

“You-”

The face that greets him is yet another unfamiliar familiar thing. For it is very much like his own.

“It's been a while, huh?”

Sparda is left speechless. No words arise.

For before him-

Is kin.

And the memories which had lied out of his grasp since his capture and through his escape emerge from the cave in which they'd nested, heavy and hearty and leaving him aching for all he has lost for he has no kin in the human world save his sons, and if this is his son- or, he prays it is not the case, for if it were true it would mean he'd been gone even longer, but if this man is perhaps a descendant of one of his sons- then he has been gone far, far longer than he'd meant to leave for. The Beacon- his kin, his son, he thinks, but which one, which one- stares.

“How about we start with an introduction?” his kinsman asks, tilting the chair he's sitting in until its back clicks against the wall. “You go first.”

“You are-”

Sparda cuts himself off again. He has lived for millennia, seen ages be born, live, and die, and the few weeks he was conscious between leaving his beloved wife and children were not long enough to forget his boys and their personalities. If this is one of his sons, then confusing him for the other will go…quite badly. If he's to pick a name, he must be correct.

But which one is it? Which child of his is this, if either?

He knows now why the Beacon's energy felt so familiar; it was his own, though a generation or more removed, and demonic families tend to share energy signatures to at least some degree. Vergil and Dante had been young when he'd left and their energy signatures had been close enough to his own, as well as near indistinguishable from one another. Certainly not different enough for him to identify which was which when only one was in front of him; it had frustrated him immensely, so used to identifying demons and even humans by their weak signatures, but Eva had lain the blame on the boys’ being twins. Normally demonic littermates felt different, but the boys were half human, and that would certainly impact their development. When next to each other there was the slightest of differences that let Sparda know the two were in fact two and not one, but he'd never been able to put the difference to words. The energy he feels coming from the man sitting before him now is different still. Yet is that because he is a different being, or because his energy has changed with age…?

The man clicks his tongue. “Mm mm mmm, I said you go first, not me. That means you say who you are, then I say who I am. I'd say that's a worthy payment for me lugging you up here and cleaning you up after you collapsed on my doorstep unannounced.”

Sparda looks down at what parts of his body aren't covered by the sheets. A soft, black, button up shirt covers him from collar to just above the wrist. Pulling the sheets a few inches to the side to see his waist reveals matching pants. When thinking about it, he can feel the sheet rub against his ankles. He was not wearing this outfit during his imprisonment. It's tight in the shoulders and thighs. A tolerable but imperfect fit.

“I thank you for your aid,” Sparda says, finally able to find the words for a full sentence. He lifts his head, staring at his savior to look for something that will give him the confirmation he needs. “I apologize for my sudden intrusion. I was in a poor state and had headed toward the nearest familiar thing. It seems to be stored here.” Or to live here, rather. But until Sparda is sure of the identity of his savior, he dare not risk more than is strictly necessary. After all- though he should only have one set of kin in the human world, born from his chosen mate and the love of his life, that is not to say he does not have kin elsewhere, and if the man before him is descended from him instead-

The man whistles. “Now really? Pretty much everything in this joint’s something either I or a trusted friend brought in, so if it was yours, I'm sorry to say it, but I think you lost your claim a long time ago.” Something dark drifts across his expression, smiling curling just the slightest bit inwards. Bitter. “If you wanted to keep it, you shouldn't have left it behind.”

(tbc)

#erurandomness #eruwrites #dmc

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winpocalypse · 13 days ago

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the 11x04 (baby) car sex scene (with feelings) that was missing from our brotherlovers for the bottom!sam enjoyers out there On AO3

It’s not like it’s the first time it happens. It’s just the first time in a long time — maybe years and years? —, and maybe it’s the first time happening in the front seat. All crowded, tight and hot. Sam’s having the most difficult time out of the two, with his long limbs, trying to fit where he can’t, his shoulders hunched, while his brother sits back with a big old smirk. Those are rare nowadays.

That last time, so long ago, Dean was oh, so pissed. It was not uncommon for Dean to be pissed, really, it was like saying he had green eyes. Just a fact of life. But it stuck out that time because with all the arguing they did when Sam came back from Stanford, they went through a period of silence. A silence louder than all the pranks, yelling and old school rock. And then, that night, right before that last time, Dean was yelling again. Hoarser than ever. It sounded a lot like John, actually. But for that time, Sam was not yelling back. He snapped back less and less since they were joined by— some angels, was it? Then, it happened all fast and angry in the backseat.

“Let me ease it up for ya,” Dean says with that casual humor of his, but the rough edge to his voice is anything but. Sam probably notices it. The kid spent so much of his years just staring at his left, he can draw that profile with eyes closed. He knows everything about his big brother, every line to his face, every tone to his voice, no doubt.

Dean opens the door to the driver’s seat, and pushes his seat back, as Sam steps one foot to the ground, at some dirty desert road, and readjusts himself on top. He stops for a second, hesitates, his eyes suddenly serious in contrast to Dean’s crow’s feet. Some things never change, even with all the years, the messes, the fights. They always come back to their roots, and Sam gotta worry while Dean gotta divert.

“What, thinking about Piper?”

Sam huffs, “Shut up.”

“She really released something in you, huh? Or rather, you did on her—”

“She didn’t do anything, I—” Sam takes a breath. “I was thinking about this for a while.”

“Were you now?” Dean’s hands are anxious where Sam can’t see them. His fingers seem eager to grab at Sam’s hips, but they just dance around, grazing at the shirt. “With all that talk about settling down, finding yourself a girl?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Shut up.”

They both smile at each other, and it’s obviously a release of some sort, a big relief, even though their lips don’t stretch as wide anymore, not for years. The new normal for them is fairly contained smiles and exchanged looks, but there’s little moments that resemble, just lightly, what they let pass. But this ain’t a little moment. It’s a pretty defining one, it seems.

“You can touch me, you know,” Sam whispers when his smile fades. Dean’s anxious fingers find their way to Sam’s hips, now almost shy.

“It’s been a while. More than a while.”

“I know.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Let’s worry about that after we make sure you can get it up.”

Dean Winchester was never one to receive teasing lightly. Now, he grabs Sam with intent, his fingers digging and finding their way underneath the shirt. And he yanks. The space is minimal already, but he does so Sam slides in his lap, even if just a little, making both of them groan. “The day I can’t get it up is the day I’m a dead man.”

Sam laughs and his cheeks get flushed. This doesn’t happen often or at all. It surely didn’t with the girl— Piper? Yeah, for that, he was laid back, confident. Right here, with the blush, the trembling fingers, and quivering breath, Sam seems like a different person.

He stretches his arm to the backseat, laying his weight completely on Dean, who grunts, “Yeah, don’t mind me.” Sam finds his backpack, an old thing he’s been carrying since— since forever, really, probably also carrying the stains of every road trip. Maybe they’re souvenirs.

“Y’know, I don’t need a blanket,” Dean says by his brother’s ear and Sam shivers, landing a shove at his shoulder as he comes back to his position, with some small plastic bottle in hand.

Dean’s hands reach further inside Sam’s shirt. “Sam Winchester, ladies and gentlemen.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be prepared.”

“Well, think again,” Dean says, smug, as he reaches down, under the seat and comes up with a plastic container of his own.

Sam looks at it, wary. “How long has that been in there?”

“Well, how long you got yours?”

“Mine’s brand new!”

“I don’t believe that for a second, we’re using mine.”

“No, we’re not.” Sam tries fetching it, but Dean shoves his hand back. “C’mon, dude.”

“If you want a piece of this, we’re using mine.”

Sam sighs. “Fine,” he says and Dean’s smile grows bigger for a second, until Sam backs away, supporting himself at the open door to get up.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Dean tugs at Sam’s belt until he’s back in his lap. He lifts his plastic bottle in Sam’s face and then throws it out the door. With his smile back, he takes Sam’s own little bottle, opening up the cap. “Ride it, cowboy.”

“God,” Sam says between amused and disappointed. It’s a combination often used concerning Dean.

Sam drops his forehead to Dean’s shoulder and they breathe together for a little while. Both of them trying to calm each other’s nerves, it seems, without saying anything. They rely a lot on not saying anything, some form of otherly communication. But this time, at least, it appears to do the trick. Sam has his hand by Dean’s shoulder, as Dean soothes his brother’s back with gentle fingers.

“You know,” Dean says after a few minutes, voice tight. “I didn’t think you would ever want to do this.”

Sam’s body tenses, just slightly, and Dean’s fingers press harder against his back. “Yeah,” Sam whispers.

“You sure?”

“I am.”

Dean turns his face, kissing Sam’s temple and they both exhale together, closing their eyes. Their movements are slow, deliberate, completely new to them. They share their breaths, slide their noses together, tease at kissing. They take their time. Up until their lips actually touch, and Dean’s pushing forward, pressing his hands firmly, opening up his mouth. Sam follows along, his fingers running through Dean’s hair, pressing close and undulating his hips.

Dean groans into their kiss, “Ah fuck.”

They don’t take their time after that.

Sam’s pants are by the floor outside, Dean’s are by his knees, constricting his movements. They’re out of their jackets and shirts, only the dark t-shirts left, the one Sam’s wearing folded up to his chest, where Dean’s not leaving an inch of skin untouched.

They rock together, clinging to each other, sharing sweat, spit and sounds and leaving all the evidence in the seats. Dean grunts where Sam whimpers, he moans where his brother gasps, and they swallow the noises with haste.

It goes for such a long time, the sky changes and the cold breeze intensifies. There’s little moments of rest, when Sam loses the strength in his thighs and they just collapse into each other, their chests pressed together, fighting for air, just like now.

Dean cradles Sam’s face, moving his hair out of their faces. “Up for another one, Sammy?”

“How the hell are you still standing?” Sam sounds out of breath.

“I told you, gotta be a dead man first.”

“Just— give me a minute.”

Dean reaches for the glove compartment. “Hold up, I got something to get you in the mood again.” He finds a tape and puts it on, while Sam just rests his head against his, eyes closed. He must be so tired, he doesn’t even complain about the awkward position.

And then Dean turns up the volume. The song is one Dean, as a kid, blasted all the time, bobbing his head and singing the lyrics all wrong, next to a smiling John and a fed up Sammy.

Born To Be Wild by Steppenwolf is what makes Sam jolt back up. “Are you serious?”

“That’s such a mood booster, come on.”

“I just went soft.”

“And I got harder.”

“I can feel you, you jerk.”

“You have to feel the lyrics, man.”

“Don’t say that stuff when you’re deep inside of me.”

Dean laughs and sings, “Yeah, darling, gonna make it happen. Take the world in a love embrace. Fire all your guns at once— C’mon!”

“Yeah, that’s a wrap.”

Dean turns the volume down, next to a whisper, and his fingers trace back to Sam, his partially naked back all the way down to his crack where they’re joined and his other hand finds its way to the small space between them. It’s so obvious Dean loves the noises he gets out of Sam, the way his big eyes sparkle, locked on Sam’s face.

They kiss, slower than before, and Dean opens a big smile through it when Sam begins moving his hips, just a little.

“I missed you, you know,” Sam says, low and lazy.

“I missed you, too.”

“I missed this version of us.”

They look at each other, now both of them serious, but soft around the eyes. Again communicating without words, but landing the message this time. “I missed that, too.”

The smiles they share now are even softer than that first year they came back together after some time apart, when they stole so many glances. Dean breaks the moment, of course, with a light slap to Sam’s butt. “Now, get to work.”

“Dean, you’re going to kill me.”

“Nah, that’s not happening, especially now. Darkness be damned.”

Sam shakes his head, a fond and tired smile on display, but his hips are increasing in speed, as Dean hums against his temple.

Like a true nature's child

We were born, born to be wild

We can climb so high

I never wanna die

#had to get this off my chest real quick #i think i was in the mood for soft teasing siblings #who also fuck of course #thank god i have this week off so i could write for a bit today #happy wincest wednesday!#fics #writing tag #wincest

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ghcstao3 · 1 year ago

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If I were to portray someone unbelievably pathetic and without any hope, would you give me another part of your #anyway mildly supernatural au?

I'll get down on my knees and pray to any god you want.

Just please give me more please.

do not even Fret i would have written more for absolutely nothing in return anyway because i just love writing AUs so much (if you could not already tell)

fun fact this is version 2.0 of what i wanted to write because tumblr didn’t save a draft and i lost everything 🫶 not edited

So much and so little time feel like they’ve passed simultaneously as John waits out the rain with Simon—and oddly enough, not once has he seen the bottom of his styrofoam cup of coffee in spite of the plentiful sips he’s certain he’s taken.

In any case.

He and Simon chat aimlessly to fill the minutes, hours, whatever it’s been—something just beyond small talk, though not by much. Not until Simon decides to face John with a rather puzzling question.

“So, then, what brings you here?”

John furrows his brow. “My car broke down,” he says slowly. He can’t help the confusion and tinge of curiosity that melt into his voice, nor can he help wondering why Simon would ask for an answer he already knows.

Yet Simon shakes his head. “No—what brings you here?”

A frown tugs at John’s lips, his eyebrows drawing ever closer. “Dinnae ken.” He shrugs helplessly, tries a different reply, “A road trip?”

Simon hums only as acknowledgment. It’s clear in the way he narrows his eyes and scrutinizes John’s face that it’s still not the answer he’s looking for.

“You’re lost,” Simon concludes.

John scoffs. “Am no’!” He exclaims, frustration laced in his tone as he folds his arms almost defensively across his chest. “I was followin’ a GPS!”

“You are,” Simon insists. “Just not in the way you think.”

With a huff, John drops his arms, instead reaching to curl his fingers back around the still-warm cup of coffee. His frown deepens. “How do you mean?”

Simon tilts his head, gaze ever-analytic. “You’re lucky,” he replies cryptically. “Or unlucky, depending on how you choose to look at it. Not many humans manage to get here.”

Now John is beyond confused. Of course, Simon had been all sorts of vague and avoidant throughout their interactions, but this? John is beginning to think this man might not be all… there.

“Human…?” John swallows. He shifts his weight between weary feet. “Why would I be anything but?”

Simon takes a step away from the counter, rounds past John only to stop at the large window looking out into a small, crumbling lot and the forest beyond the road, all blurred by heavy rain. John realizes with a start that he hadn’t really seen Simon move before that—hadn’t seen deliberate steps, the way he almost glides across the space; graceful, soundless.

It’s almost—dare John say—supernatural.

“Well, you see, Johnny,” Simon says with a mild air of amusement, and John has barely any time to process that Simon knows his name despite it never having been given as he continues, “there’s often a lot more than meets the eye in this world we live in. It just appears you’ve looked in the right place for once.”

“I don’t understand.”

Simon turns back to him, then, the glint in his eyes that same hint of unnatural as his movements. They flash, a glare almost like that of a cat’s in the dark of night.

“I don’t expect you to.”

Simon looks away from John again, a broad figure against the pale grey light that filters inside. John’s heart stutters even as he willingly brings himself closer to Simon.

“The rain will stop soon,” Simon states disinterestedly. It hardly appears like the storm would let up any time soon—the sky is still stained with dark and angry clouds—but Simon says it with such unimpressed, unwavering confidence that John thinks he may as well believe him.

“Will it?” John challenges anyway.

Simon shrugs. “Not unless you don’t want it to.”

John huffs out a quiet laugh. As strange as Simon and everything he’s said is, and as much as John has questioned everything else, he decides he’ll humour the man.

“Maybe just a bit longer, then.”

After all, John hasn’t hated lingering in the store. No harm in indulging in such silly thoughts as controlling the weather.

Simon nods. The corners of his eyes pull upward as if he’s smiling beneath the mask he’s still refused to remove. Briefly, John wonders what other things Simon may be hiding beneath it.

Simon concurs, “Then so it is.”

#ask #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soap mw2 #ghost x soap #ghoap #soapghost #ghostsoap #writing #alternate universe #anyway mildly supernatural au

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spaceprincessem · 6 months ago

Text

another lil coda for day 4 of robstar week. i kind of re-imagined the time during the brotherhood of evil plot where the titans were split across the world. loved the idea of the team having lil meet ups and late night calls and just taking whatever they can get to be with each other @robxstar

day 4 - downtime

how we touched and went our separate ways

The hot Nevada sun is just beginning to set beyond the horizon when Robin parks his motorcycle outside of a small diner. There’s a sign right off the road letting passerbyers know that Las Vegas is only 60 miles southeast and Death Valley 50 miles west.

It’s one of those places no one really notices; a last chance run of the mill restaurant to get something decent to eat before you’re stuck in the middle of the desert. Beast Boy swears by their mac and cheese and rhubarb pie.

(Robin’s not really sure where the hell they get the rhubarb though, but the diner is sitting at a crossroad and stranger things have happened.)

It’s the closest meeting point for the whole team, and despite the short window of time they have before their (seemingly) never-ending mission to unite Titans across the world against the Brotherhood of Evil, they take whatever they can get to see each other.

It’s difficult getting all five of them together.

The past few weeks have consisted of quick dinners or a few stolen hours in each other’s company. Robin was lucky enough to see Raven a few days ago when they passed through the same town. They got coffee and video chatted with Cyborg before their missions called them away again.

He hates the team being so divided, but the quicker they get this done the sooner they can all go home.

And Robin really misses being home.

They’ve all opted for street clothing in their public meetups, not wanting to draw attention or risk the Brotherhood attacking them during their small moments of peace.

He’s pretty sure he’s a little early, possibly the first one there until he looks up through the window and spots Starfire sitting at the counter sipping a milkshake. She’s dressed in jeans and a colorful crop top sweater with space earrings Beast Boy gave her as a gift from a shop near Area 51.

Robin swallows the sudden flutter of nerves that never cease to leave him be when he sees her. His heart is equally traitorous, thumping against his chest, pulling pulling pulling him to her. He follows the tug, easily falls into her gravity — her magnetism — like he was born for it.

And sometimes he thinks he was.

They may be from different worlds, but whatever stardust made them is one in the same.

Some Journey song is playing on the Jukebox — Separate Ways (World’s Apart) — and Robin smiles at the irony of it. Starfire is tapping her finger against the glass in time with the music, her focus lazily held by two dude bros tripping over themselves to talk to her. His fingers tap the small of her back and stay there like a warning that the boys clearly take heed of.

Starfire turns, lips spreading into that dazzling smile as she leans into him, like maybe she’s caught in his gravity too.

“Hi.” He says, softly.

“Greetings.” She replies, gently laying her hand on his arm.

Being here now, so close and yet never close enough, Robin realizes how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other.

He realizes how much he fucking missed her.

He wants to touch and take and taste every part of her, like a man starved for oxygen. With the way her eyes sparkle in the orange hue of the setting Nevada sun he knows that she feels the same.

He’ll never forget the first time they kissed.

It was just after one of their more dangerous missions that required a tag team. The appearance and sabotage of Madame Rouge quickly complicated things and it was one of those rare times they barely made it out alive.

Robin can still sometimes feel the way his heart ripped right out of his chest when he thought he lost Starfire. When she appeared at his side seconds later, bruised and bleeding, he didn’t stop to think; he simply let his instincts — his wants and desires take over.

Her blood was sharp and strangely sweet on his tongue, the taste of her seared in his brain forever. The hunger, the dire need to take more more more somehow melted into soft sacredness, like something holy. Robin wanted to take his time memorizing the way her lips perfectly slotted against his own and how kissing her was the easiest thing in the world.

Like they were made to fit this way.

Of course, they couldn’t keep the hunger, the animal desire, at bay for long. He needed her in every way imaginable and she needed him just as much.

They haven’t had time since then to just be. To be around each other and hold each other and enjoy this new step in their relationship. They’ve survived off of late night calls and text messages when they can help it.

Robin’s known for a while that he loves her; something he’s not allowed to say or even think about for too long right now.

Maybe someday.

Someday.

“Beast Boy will be mad if we order pie without him.�� Robin finally says as he takes the seat next to her.

“I have been patiently waiting for you all to arrive.” Starfire chides gently, but her smile takes out any of the heat in her words.

“Here I was thinking I was early.” He grins, leaning in for a quick, soft press of their lips.

Starfire tastes like chocolate malt and whipped cream and something so magical it simply is not made of this earth. She hums against his lips before moving to press her own against the corner of his mouth.

“I believe flying is faster.” She teases.

“Well Raven can teleport,” Robin pouts, “and she’s not here yet.”

As if summoned by her name the small bell on the door rings and they both turn to see Raven heading over to where they are seated.

“I’m right on time.” She says, taking the other seat next to Robin, giving him a pointed look.

He withers a little under her stare, but it’s cut by Starfire’s giggle and Raven eventually giving in by smiling. Cyborg and Beast Boy join them just as the waitress pours Robin a fresh cup of coffee.

“I’ve really missed y’all,” Cyborg says after their order’s been taken. “I’ve even missed BB’s bad jokes.”

“Don’t get him started,” Raven says flatly, but the pink tint to her cheeks gives her away.

“Cyborg,” Beast Boy says dramatically, “have I not added you to my meme chat? I’ll have to amend that immediately.”

Cyborg’s phone pings and he quickly scrolls through it, his shoulders shaking as he tries not to laugh.

“This is just you trying to teach Star how to use memes.”

“And,” Beast Boy grins, “it’s working.”

“Beast Boy recommended we all watch the, and I quote,” Starfire says somewhat seriously, “the cinematic masterpiece that is Shrek when we all get home.”

“Lord help me.” Raven mumbles.

Robin joins in with Cyborg’s laughter as Beast Boy scoffs in Raven’s direction. Starfire just watches with amusement, her fingers catching Robin’s under the counter for a moment.

“Movie night when we get home,” Robin says, as he picks up his fork with his free hand, “sounds like a good plan.”

His friends all smile in return and they all take their time eating, wanting the night to last just a little bit longer.

“Does anyone know how the hell they get all this rhubarb out here?”

#robstar #teen titans #robstarweek #robin x starfire #robin #starfire #this really involves the team as a family too because i love their dynamic

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thebearme · 1 year ago

Note

OH WAIT MY DUMBASS FORGOT TO ALSO ASK BTW IF YOU HAVE ANY HEADCANONS ON CAMERON OR GWEN

Imma just gonna start with Cam first, and let me just tell you Cameron I projected the most on because even after my "ihatehim no ilovehim" phase so idk maybe some of this could be out of character srry.

I imagine Cameron is south African, particularly Zimbabwean.

His a walking nerd emoji.

The only pass time Cam had was to draw bugs. So he's REALLY GOOD at drawing bugs. Only bugs. Everything else looks like it's from the diary of a wimpy kid.

Cam not that keen of physical touch but slowly getting used to it cuz of Mike. Mike also trying to remember that everyone is open on surprise hugs.

Idk why but with Zoey and Cam's relationship I just think of Carly and Freddie but without the crush.

Gwen and Cam would have art trades together.

Cam got the dryess hands in existence because of the amount of hand sanitizer he uses. OCD GAND RISE UP!

Im saying this now but Cam and B would TOTALLY VIBE TOGETHER!! i just don't know their intentions are yet so dont ask..

Lightning and Cam would have hangout if not for the cheating thing.

Duncan once asked Cam if he can draw a mural of his pet spider Scruffy.

Sam would take it as his personal duty to teach Cam in the way of being a gamer. By teaching him the Zelda timeline and the lore of FNAF. May god rest Cam soul after that.

Cam doesn't not do well with the more active people in Mike's system like Svetlana and Manitoba. They try to be gentle with him but they just don't know their strengths and Manitoba canonically eats dirt so there's only so much they can hangout.

Vito doesn't vibe with nerds but he does occasional try to back him up if he's getting bullied. ONLY if Vito himself isn't bullying Cam.

Cameron actually has the best relationship with Chester. He loves hearing history and old facts and Chester loves the excuse to chat someone's ears off.

Mal and Cam have more of a neutral relationship with each other but I can definitely see Mal thinking his just some weakling nerd until Cam shows him he knows how to make the Demon core.

Cam and Mike started a hate Scott club. Although Cam feels alil bad about, he tends to be reminded of why they started this club every time they go back to their cabin.

Cam once witnessed Scott use the bathroom without washing his hands. And never liked him since.

There was one time between season, Mike, Cam and Zoey were going on a little road trip. Z & M both ask what song should they play next? Cam said he doesn't know any songs so maybe just play the Ice cream truck theme. And that's when they find out HOW sheltered this boy is.

I would get into the nitty gritty but Cam's mom is NOT a good mom. Zoey and Mike have beef with her (Zoey trys to have the benefit of the doubt and said she just too over protective while Mike legit DONT like her.)

They both make sure that Cam gets as much outside time as possible and learn to have a life outside of his house.

When Cam goes to college is going aboard as an entomologist.

When Cameron first came on TD he didn't know what to wear because obviously he's never been outside so it a mixture of hot and cold clothes. Bro don't know fashion but it's his outfit changes in All Stars.

He's wearing a puffer jacket because it reminds him of a sleeping bag and makes him cozy + it has a cooling system inside thanks to B.

#ask #total drama #td cameron

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marigolddove · 2 years ago

Text

Love Begins With Murder, Believe it or Not.

Part 3

Request by: @yandere-dark-cupid

I stayed up until 3 am writing this, passed out and then woke up at 6 am to finish it lol. It's okay though I'm not tired, I'm just happy to be writing. I hope you all enjoy this part there will definitely be another part which will probably be the final for a while. I'll probably try and leave this story with a not-so-official ending because I might make one-shots based around this in the future.

Also I'm getting a new job soon so that might cut into my writing a bit but I'm going to keep writing no matter what I'm so grateful for Welcome Home and all it's characters and all my fellow fanfic writers and artists out there making more and more content for this fandom. You guys are all awesome and Welcome Home is officially my comfort Fandom, without it I might've never wrote anything ever again. So thank you to @partycoffin, and all of the AU creators, you're all truly wonderful people.

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of torture and violence, anger issues.

@elegantkidfansoul, @sunkyss, @all-things-fandomstuck, @sailorsimp13, @cricketsjunk

💀♥️💀

Wally couldn't believe he didn't have one single vase in his apartment, not one! He had been so certain he'd had flowers before, surely he'd had…he was a lover of beauty and nature, so it was extremely frustrating when he couldn't find his—imaginary—vase.

He could've let it go there, just put the bouquet in a tall glass or leave them out to dry and get a vase tomorrow, but to be honest he was procrastinating when he suddenly decided he needed a vase before his nap; he knew of a flower shop fifteen minutes away on a strip he was well familiar with—he often got lunch or dinner from a nextdoor diner, well he did before he hit this depression.

That's what all this is about, after all. Depression.

He lost the desire, the drive, to style his hair, paint, draw, talk to his friends and employees, he doesn't even make eye-contact like he used to; and now to top it all off, he realizes, there's absolutely no life in his apartment. Even his old paintings feel soulless, hollow, because they don't fill him with the emotions he once held as he crafted them.

When the depression set in, he couldn't be sure, it had been a gradual change; but it was one he hadn't noticed until now, he hadn't wanted to think about it.

He feels his face flush in embarrassment as he thinks of his neglect of himself and his home as he drives to the shop, the sky turning orange and blue behind the many buildings surrounding him.

As he kept his eyes trained on the still bustling road ahead, he could only hope he would make it in time so this uncoordinated trip wouldn't be a complete waste.

—————————

With traffic being convinently merciful to him this early in the evening time, he is soon racing to the shops entrance door, bouquet delicately cradled by his left arm; completely missing the 'open' sign flipping to 'closed' as his unoccupied hand grasps the door handle and turns.

As he pushes into the building he is shocked to find an employee standing right at the entrance, hand quickly retracting from the door as they lock eyes with him, seemingly just as shocked by his sudden entrance.

The bell above the door chimes.

For Mr. Darling, renowned local kingpin, ruthless 'family' man, time seemed to slow for a moment, just a moment. It was almost as if the chiming of the bell had put him into a trance, or maybe it was just you.

There you stand, (h/c) hair fluttering from the sudden rush of wind that came from him opening the door, staring right at him; your work uniform fitting you quite nicely, especially with your own accessories that added a unique personal touch, not to mention the smell—which was most definitely the shop, but there is no doubt in his mind that you smell any different—sweet and floral.

You're the first to speak, voice a bit nervous at his stare, "O-Oh! Hello, we–ah, I, was just about to close up shop." You move the hand that had been reaching for the door handle to fiddle with a ring on your opposite pinky finger, a sign of anxiety.

Realizing how he must look, a bit wild from the wind whipping his already disheveled hair around with tired eyes, his ears and cheeks grew a little hot, but he clears his throat into his hand as he tries to recover from his sudden and silly attraction.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to just barge in here, but…" he shrugs the arm cradling the bouquet, "I'm looking for a vase, this shop was the only place I could think to find one and it wasn't a far drive…I thought I had a vase, but I was wrong." He explains ratherly lamely, his usual suave and calm demeanor shattered by his growing embarrassment at his current mental and physical state. This was a mistake, he should've just waited for the morning or let the flowers dry out, he should be sleeping right now.

Like an angel you smile at him, so bright and warm it almost feels like the sun is beaming at him, "That's alright! I don't mind a bit, sir, follow me I have some you can choose from in the back." You move to allow him full access and then make your way to what looks to be a storage closet at the back of the shop.

He follows without a word, eyes glued to your figure as you seem to glide to the back, your feet making little to no noise as you move.

The door to the storage closet is open with chalk board sign leaning against the wall next to the door frame, 'small vase $10, medium $15, large $25 ALL HAND MADE!!'.

"You make your own vases?" Wally asks, impressed even before seeing the quality of your work.

You flush as you glance at the sign and then gesture to the closet, signaling him to take a look at your stock, "Yeah, it's a new thing I started doing…I've always been into crafts and stuff like that and working with clay seemed really fun and challenging, so…." He notices your words grow softer, seemingly embarrassed.

Well he can certainly tell you're a beginner, many of the pieces seem a bit lop sided or misshapen, but some are charming due to their faults. Something art had taught him early on is to love imperfections just as much as perfections.

"They're charming." He says, and it's the truth, hearing the honesty in his tone makes you turn a bit more red as you smile gratefully at him.

"Which would you recommend for this bouquet?" He asks, he already has an idea of which vase he'd pick but he wants to hear your opinion.

You eyeball the bouquet, a knowing look sparkling in your (e/c) eyes, and look to the assortment of pottery, "hmm".

Your eyes land on a particularly unique piece on the bottom shelf, it's wide and a bit overly round at the bottom and it narrows a bit more dramatically than you intended at the top, it was also colorful, painted with vertical rainbow stripes that had come out very pastel when you had originally wanted a very bold rainbow color. Overall it had been a bit of a flop, but at the same time it has become one of your favorite pieces and it was a tragedy it had never been used. Whether it looked good with this particular bouquet didn't really matter, to be honest it didn't compliment the bouquet at all, but it deserves a home.

Following your gaze, Wally examines the piece you're staring at so intensely.

"Is that the one?" It certainly wasn't the one he was going to pick, but the way you stared at it with such sentiment made his heart leap. Oh how he missed the days when he would look at his own art with such a nostalgic and sentimental gaze.

"I don't know…it's a little ugly, to be honest…it doesn't really go with the flowers."

"I can always get more flowers." He responds smoothly, catching even himself off guard.

The two of you lock eyes again and he wishes he had examined himself before coming here, so he could know how you see him. He's certain he looks like a mess, and not a hot one.

You seem taken back by his response, but recover quickly to smile, "Yeah, I guess you can. This is a flower shop after all." You glance down at his bouquet again, "you wouldn't happen to know someone named Julie, would you?"

He knew you would recognize the tag and the flower combination, so your question didn't phase him, "Yes, actually. I'm sorry I couldn't come in for the flowers myself, at the time I was…busy."

"Ah, no need to apologize, worrying about a funeral is tough even when you weren't close to the person who died. I'm sorry for being a bit nosey."

"I don't think you're being nosey at all," he ignores the bit about the funeral, not wanting to really lie, but still omitting the truth, "these flowers you picked are really very lovely, I almost want to keep them for myself." He absolutely intends on keeping them for himself.

Your smile turns a bit bashful, "Oh, well thank you. It's nice to know I got it right." Turning back to the shelves of pottery, you crouch to the one you had been staring at, "So is this the one you'd like? Or did you have your eye on another?"

"I'll take that one and these two as well." He gestures his free hand to two other pieces, one being a bit plain and lumpy, the other a bit more colorful; the base color being yellow with red and blue swirls.

"Three?" You ask, a bit surprised.

He grins at you, and unknown to him your heart flutters, "This way I have an excuse to come back, I'm going to need flowers for them, right?" It's been a while since he's tried flirting, but by the way your entire face seems to light up and flush he's certain it's been effective.

"R-Right," you grab two of the vases as he grabs one, "that's three medium sized pots so it'll be $45 dollars." The two of you make your way to the check out counter and place the three pots delicately, "I'll go ahead and wrap these for you." As he grabs the money out of his wallet, you rummage through the work table and pull out a bundle of plain wrapping paper. Carefully, you wrap each individual piece in a thick protective layer of paper, then delicately place the three into an oversized grocery bag, adding more wads of paper between each piece.

Wally lays the money down onto the counter, slipping an extra $5 bill as a tip, as you place the finishing touches on the bag of fragiles. When you're pleased with your work, you hand him the bag with a wide grin, collecting the cash; before you can finish counting Wally tips his head to you.

"You have a good night, doll, stay safe." Without another word he exits the shop, you call after him about his change but he doesn't respond. Upon examining the extra $5 bill closer you notice a series of numbers written on it, when had he done that?

It doesn't take a genius to know that he's written a cell phone number on the bill, despite his somewhat messy appearance your stomach feels as though it's infested with butterflies at the idea that he might have been interested in you. He certainly had flirted with you a little bit, but that didn't have to mean anything, but leaving his number? That means something.

He did say he would need to come back for more flowers, you smile at the thought, carefully folding the bill and tucking it into your pants pocket. You begin to close shop again, this time with no interruptions.

—————————

Julie should've told him he looked this awful, he thought to himself as he examined his reflection in the rear view mirror. No, no, no this won't do! Horror pierced it's way into his heart as he also realized that this is how he had looked during your entire interaction. He had flirted like this…left his number looking like this.

A part of him wanted to storm back into the shop and explain that this isn't him, just something he's been dealing with, tell you that he's not some pathetic, greasy nobody like he knew you must've thought he was.

He's Wally fucking Darling, he kills whoever he wants, whenever he wants, sells what he deems profitable no matter how morally gray and takes whatever he pleases. The people that surround him know to not only fear him but to adore him.

In his sudden shock and growing fury he almost, nearly, throws the bag of pottery to the floor of his passenger side; but he doesn't, of course, he's much too collected to just fly off the handle and break things—he most certainly is not, just two weeks before he broke that not-so imaginary vase he knew he had, it had been in a fit of frustration towards Howdy for failing a trade agreement; Wally didn't remember it now, but that day he had taken his only vase and chucked it at Howdy's much higher head. He had missed entirely, and now he's forgotten the whole ordeal.

Thankfully there's even less traffic, somehow, on the way back, which keeps his temper low but bubbling gently to the surface. A rolling boil was sure to start.

When he arrived back to his apartment, he placed the pots onto his sofa along with the bouquet, so delicate compared to the war of emotions he held inside.

Remember: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6—

He enters his massive, stunning bathroom and makes a b-line for the mirrors, he needs a better look at the damage his neglect has done.

If looks could kill one look would make the mirrors shatter, this isn't who he is. He feels like an imposter in his own body when he looks at himself, hair greasy and wild—no longer slicked back due to the wind, he doesn't even like slicking back his hair, it isn't his style! Then there's the grotesque bags under his eyes, when had they become so dark and puffy? How hadn't he noticed sooner? The rage was building now.

7, 8, 9—

Why was his skin so dull an–and sallow?!

Suddenly the sound of his marble counter top cracking triggers a roar of emotion to overwhelm him, he doesn't even register he's injured himself by slamming a fist down onto the marble. The emotions are so raw, so heavy, he doesn't even realize he's out of the bathroom now; doesn't hear the carnage he's creating or his own howls and shouts of incoherent anger and frustration.

When and how did he become so pathetic? How long had the others just sat idly by watching him grow weaker and uglier. His anger blinds him to the memories of when they had tried, all of them had; even Howdy, who wasn't the biggest fan of Wally to begin with, had tried.

The shrill ringing of his telephone snaps him back to reality, in his now bloodied and bruising hands he grips a broken frame that holds–held one of his own designs. His breathing is heavy and his head is swimming, wasn't he just in the bathroom a moment ago?

He drops the frame and stumbles to the phone, wincing at the loudness of it, he doesn't even take a moment to collect himself before answering.

"What do you wa–"

"Hello!" Your soft, sweet voice timidly interrupts his rude greeting.

Suddenly his stomach dips and his heart flips, he really hopes you hadn't heard him.

"Uh-uhm, it seems like I've caught you at a bad time, ha ha. I'm sorry about that, sir." You had heard his sour attitude, fuck.

"No, no," he corrects hastily, not wanting you to hang up, "I'm sorry, I just…I just injured myself getting to the phone." The lie feels bitter, like bile rising in his throat, fuck why did he lie?

"Oh," is your meek response, then a pause, "Well…I'm sorry for calling you so soon…and it's a bit late too, ah, this is so silly I'm really sorry."

He's about to reassure you he doesn't mind in the slightest, and it's the truth, but you continue quickly.

"It's just that I didn't ever give you my name, a-and I never got yours. Also I wanted to give you my number as well, that way I don't have to do all the calling myself, you see." Your stuttering is cute, but your sickeningly sweet reason for calling him has him swooning most of all.

"I see, well," he straightens himself, confidence filling him once more, "My name is Wally, Wally Darling, and you are..?"

"Y/N, Y/N L/N."

"That's a lovely name for such an enchanting flower like yourself, Y/N." He purrs, his turmoil and self-esteem issues quickly forgotten by this new cocktail of emotions, suddenly he's like a giddy teenage boy; twirling the phone cord between his fingers, a toothy smirk growing on his face and he imagines you blushing like you did in the shop.

"Your name is really cute too," you reply, you sound embarrassed but you're definitely smiling.

"Thank you," he grabs the note pad and pen he keeps by his landline, "Now then, what's your number?"

"O-Oh, right!" You quickly tell him your number and he repeats it back to you, once he's gotten it correct he smiles, gently placing his pen back down onto the table.

Sighing, "I must say, I'm glad you called." He admits.

"Oh?"

He hums, "Yes, when I got to my car I realized how I must have appeared to you. I typically take better care of myself, but, well, recently I've 'let myself go'." His tone remains light, almost dreamy as he speaks to you, even though on the inside he can feel the suffocating emotions from before bubbling up again.

"I just thought you were having an off day, you're actually very handsome." The way you say it, like its a fact he should already know, makes his face warm. Those emotions dying quickly before they can rise again, for a complete stranger you seem to have a powerful hold over him, you're able to make him feel nervous and excited.

It's pleasant.

"Well," you start, "It's getting late, I'm sure we both have things to do before nighttime."

He glances at the mess he made during his episode, as much as he wanted to disagree he knew he needed to clean up. He wouldn't live in this embarrassment any longer.

"Yes, thank you again for calling me, Y/N. I hope you have a good night."

"You too."

"Stay safe." He hears the receiver cut off on your end, he sighs into the now quiet and lonely air. He's grateful for your ability to distract him, he would've caused more damage to not only his home but to himself had you not called.

Wally looks around at the carnage he caused, grateful he didn't damage his newly aquired pottery and flowers. It's time to fix this.

—————————

When Barnaby returns to the building he's immediately greeted by Frank, with a disgruntled Eddie in tow. He had taken a bit longer than he would've liked with the rat, but the boss told him to really work on the guy, and he wanted to be sure the body couldn't be found and linked back to them. He's very thorough.

So he's a bit tired when he's approached by Frank, their face intense.

"Something's wrong with Wally."

Immediately dread fills Barnaby, worried something happened while he was gone, "What happened?"

"We heard him screaming and loud noises, like things being broken, upstairs."

"And neither of you thought to check on him?!" He barks, immediately heading for the elevator.

"It wasn't like the sound of struggling, I know what a struggle sounds like. He's probably just having a fit, like usual now-a-days, and I don't want myself or Frank to be caught in the cross fire." Eddie replies, his tone indifferent.

Frank sighs, following close behind Barnaby, "I wanted to go up and see him, but after what happened with Howdy–"

"I know." Barnaby cuts him off. A vase hadn't been the only thing Wally had thrown at Howdy the last time he became like this, and the vase hadn't landed anyway; but a paper weight had, and so did his punches. Despite not liking him, Howdy had stood there and taken it, claiming the boss "needed that more than anyone knew".

Barnaby wishes it had been him, not Howdy. He didn't want Wally to hurt him, but he's his best friend and he wants to be the one that's there for him at his absolute lowest, as well as his highest. It feels like recently he's missing all of the moments that are crucial for helping his first friend.

"Thank you for letting me know, I'll go see him alone now. You two get back to…whatever you were doing, have a good night." Frank looks like they're about to respond but the elevator doors close, effectively cutting them off.

Barnaby sighs into the silence of the elevator, readying himself for what's to come when he reaches Wally's penthouse.

He's surprised when he arrives and the room is filled with gentle music coming from the Gramophone—the record player—across the spacious living area; someone's singing in the bathroom, he soon realizes it's Wally singing and he's even more stunned. Wally hasn't sung a song in all the time he's known him, claiming he couldn't carry a tune.

To Barnaby, he sounds like a professional, smooth and suave. It almost feels like he's intruding, but the mess of the room makes him stay. Wally seems to have started cleaning up his mess, which is a nice change of pace. Typically Julie would come in and clean for him after hearing he'd had an episode, saying he deserves a clean safe space, even if he's the one trashing the place.

Barnaby moves to relax on the sofa, careful to avoid the bag Wally had left. He sits and waits a while, enjoying the soft melody and the surprisingly relaxing aura that the chaotic room held. He finds himself humming along with Wally, not knowing the words of his song.

When he hears his friend's singing end and the water shut off his posture straightens and becomes a little tense; worried how his little buddy might react at his sudden intrusion.

To his surprise, Wally exits the bathroom in a plush bathrobe, hair expertly wrapped in a towel atop his head as he continues humming a tune; and when he catches sight of Barnaby he's shocked but smiles.

"Ah, you're back. I did wonder if you would come and see me again today, I'm glad you're back safe." He moves closer to the sofa, bare feet padding against the hard wood floors, "Sorry for the mess, I got a bit carried away again today. I'm also sorry if I've been short with you today."

"There's no need to apologize, Boss. I'm just glad you're looking better."

"I do look better don't I? It's amazing what a shower and a quick skin care routine can do to a man." He says as he rummages through the grocery bag on the couch, pulling out three bulky items wrapped in paper.

He sits next to Barnaby and unwraps them, the record now fading into a new melody. Wally places three…interesting vases on the low table in front of them. His smile seems brighter as he looks at them.

"You starting a collection?" Barnaby jokes.

Wally hums, "I'm considering it."

"I told Julie to buy flowers for the…rat's lady friend, I intended on sending her a message with them, only to find out she herself is a rat. So I decided I'd keep the flowers for myself, they're quite pretty." He explained, his voice soft.

"But what's with the pottery?"

Wally laughs, "Well pretty flowers need equally pretty vases, my friend." Barnaby wasn't sure he would call them pretty, but he wasn't an artist so what would he know?

"Why'd ya get three though?"

"You're awfully inquisitive today, aren't you?" For a moment Barnaby worries he's stepped too far, but Wally's tone sounds mostly teasing and light hearted, "I bought three because I couldn't just pick one that I liked; besides, my home could use more art."

"Yeah, sure. It's just nice to see you smiling and, uh, getting out there." He admits awkwardly, his smaller friend looking up at him with a wide grin, it seems genuine compared to his usual facade.

"It has been nice, today hasn't been perfect, but it's been nice." Wally rises from the sofa, grabbing the plain, lumpy vase and the bouquet as he moves to the kitchen.

Carefully, he fills the vase with the recommended amount of water and retrieves a bit of lemon juice he's had sitting in his fridge for a month now—it's been longer than a month, he just doesn't know that—he adds a few drops to the tap water before arranging the flowers inside the vase.

He carries the vase filled with flowers back to Barnaby and places them at the center of the low table, adjusting it's position on the table until he deems it perfect.

Wally sighs as he relaxes back onto the couch next to his much larger friend, "Now all I need is more flowers to fill the other two, perhaps I'll make paintings of them as well, they're inspiring me already." He didn't say what else might be inspiring him, but in his mind an image of you formed. Maybe he would sketch you as well.

Barnaby raised a brow at him, even though he wouldn't see it, and smiled, "Hey, I'm glad you're wanting to paint again little buddy, after what happened earlier I thought you might be giving up for good."

Mentioning their time together earlier that day seemed to sour Wally's mood a bit, "Yeah, well, torture and death aren't always the best motivation I've realized."

At his sudden tone change, Barnaby scrambles to get him back to his pleasant mood, "So where'd ya get the pottery? Any place I might know?"

This seems to work as a twinkle appears in his eyes once again and he turns to fully face Barnaby, a soft and genuine smile gracing his features.

"You might, Eddie talks about it all the time it would seem, everyone knew about it but me, ha ha." He continued, "Well, actually, I knew of the flower shop but I had never gone in before, until today. You might know it, it's (S/N), over on 9th Street."

Barnaby contemplates the location a moment, he can't say that he does recall a flower shop there, "It's not ringing any bells, but whats so special about it, you seem very…happy and I'm not so sure it's about a flower shop."

Wally's eyes widen and pink dusts across his cheeks, something Barnaby isn't sure he's ever seen happen to his friend before, "Well, I suppose it's about more than a shop, yes," then he stubbornly adds, "Although the flowers do make me happy."

Barnaby motions for him to continue, Wally sighs and while it sounds like frustration he still has a grin on his face.

That's when Barnaby learns about you, although he's certain he might have heard of you before through Eddie Dear, but he knows Eddie never talked about you so dreamily.

This is also when Barnaby learns that his best friend might have experienced love at first sight.

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #eddie x frank #Mafia! AU #mafia!Wally Darling #wally has some personal issues #this is gonna be cheesy #its love at first sight #deal with it #barnaby beagle

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