#cos ive got Long hair [i like it :)] and like.....

[im-sleepdeprived]

Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?

fix you up

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand

warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)

masterlist, requests are open !!

Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself. 

You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable. 

But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target. 

It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying. 

“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.

Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.

You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.

“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”

She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”

While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)

“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him. 

“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. 

“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”

You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay. 

There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you. 

If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store. 

She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.

“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment. 

No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right. 

Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”

You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”

Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”

You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not. 

It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order. 

You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.

“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”

You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore. 

“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”

“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.” 

You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”

You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready. 

In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?

But you really didn’t want to find out. 

So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand. 

You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off. 

Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”

You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good. 

You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.

Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor. 

You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in. 

Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-

Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned. 

He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain. 

“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look. 

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom. 

“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone. 

“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.

Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks. 

Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him. 

You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him. 

He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.

“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.

“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled. 

“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”

“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know. 

“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”

He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?

You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.

He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.

He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.

“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”

 “Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.

“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”

You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.

“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.

“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly. 

“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”

He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked. 

You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”

He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”

“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”

Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”

You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order. 

Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”

He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”

“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”

He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.

“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”

Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster. 

“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again. 

“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”

“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-

“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”

“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”

“Freddy?” You asked confused. 

He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”

He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”

Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”

You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you. 

“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted. 

“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”

He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”

“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.

The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner. 

It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.

You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:

“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”

“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”

And he started to get the hang of it. 

“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards. 

When your work shift ended, you were actually upset. 

“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon. 

“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated. 

“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”

You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward. 

Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?

The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.

You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life  when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together. 

“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked. 

“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down. 

He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”

You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.

“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air. 

He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away. 

You were not having a good day. 

You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside. 

You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”

The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it. 

“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”

“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”

“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”

You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”

“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”

You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel. 

You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”

You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”

Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was. 

You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed. 

Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here. 

You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it. 

At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.

“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”

You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.

The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry. 

You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes. 

Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes. 

It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends. 

its very quaint 🤌

(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)

He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there. 

dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces

im totally ready for this

ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!

what cat ??

good girl ;)

Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open. 

“Hi,” he said, smiling at you. 

“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him. 

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really. 

There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”

“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.

He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit. 

You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back. 

The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still. 

Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”

“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe. 

“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.

You nodded. “Alright.”

“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you. 

“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet. 

What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in. 

There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ. 

A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day. 

And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.

“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier. 

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.

“You first,” he said slyly.

Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”

He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”

“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed. 

This was gonna be a long night. 

He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt. 

After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”

That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”

You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”

Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching. 

You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers. 

“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice. 

“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”

Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another. 

“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again. 

Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”

“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries. 

Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down. 

“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed. 

“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek. 

You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”

He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it. 

You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose. 

That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth. 

“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it. 

“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand. 

He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him. 

“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly. 

He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand. 

“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it. 

“Yeah,” you nodded at him. 

“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care. 

“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately. 

“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”

You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth. 

He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”

You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”

He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop. 

You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-

Shit. 

A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time. 

You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. 

Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself. 

“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice. 

“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands. 

“Do what, angel?”

“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”

“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!

“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”

“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.

He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”

You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”

He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”

“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”

You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back. 

He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”

He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them. 

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.

You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams. 

You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first. 

Or tried to, at least. 

“We should-” kiss. 

“You-” kiss. 

“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other. 

“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently. 

“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.

“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement. 

That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”

True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side. 

“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?

“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly. 

“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you. 

“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”

“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.

You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door. 

As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.” 

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”

The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait. 

You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil. 

GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️

hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰

seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt

A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you. 

After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you. 

“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you. 

“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin. 

“No ‘Petey’?”

“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift. 

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”

You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world. 

“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”

“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it. 

“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away. 

“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.

“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly. 

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”

Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again. 

“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.

“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled. 

“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”

“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time. 

“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”

You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…

A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”

You were just on cloud nine today. 

You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work. 

And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help. 

Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie. 

Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place. 

The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered. 

It's Freddy. 

You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”

He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”

You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name. 

You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it. 

“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”

“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it. 

You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?

“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”

Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing. 

“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now. 

“Last year.”

��Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless. 

He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”

You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room. 

“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed. 

You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him. 

After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text. 

But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him. 

You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking. 

“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth. 

He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side. 

“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries. 

“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”

“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod. 

“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”

You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side. 

“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand. 

Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more. 

“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again. 

“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”

This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit. 

He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”

You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one. 

Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long. 

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit. 

“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.

“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”

You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all. 

You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him. 

He returned it and you went back to work. 

“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question. 

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”

“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again. 

“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly. 

“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again. 

“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you. 

“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.  

“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of. 

“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.

“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag. 

“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them. 

“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent. 

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower. 

Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”

“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand. 

“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.

“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick). 

You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”

“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were. 

“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him. 

“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you. 

Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work. 

Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-

“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake. 

“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him. 

“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you. 

“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. 

He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him. 

“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”

That got him to pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”

“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”

He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.

“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him. 

He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you. 

You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up. 

“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were. 

“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look. 

You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.” 

“Wait, he’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”

“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”

You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”

You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”

“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”

“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”

He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it. 

“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.

You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story. 

“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants. 

Your mouth fell open. At being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him. 

“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”

That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-

He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him. 

“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him. 

He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”

“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. 

“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”

“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach. 

You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”

“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”

You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”

“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. 

“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”

[luveline]

Hi jade, I have a hurt/comfort request for Steve, maybe reader was there with the party for all the vecna stuff and maybe gets hurt, afterwards Steve taking care of her and staying w her in the hospital and stuff? Love your writing!

thank you for requesting <3 fem!reader

“Did you know there’s like, a concessions stand?” 

You moan at the pain between your shoulders, turning onto your arm. Steve lounges in the chair beside you with a paper plate of donuts on his chest. His legs are kicked up on your bed. He’s taken his shoes off, at least. 

“Free donuts, coffee, they even had flapjacks.” 

“Steve, I think you have to pay for those.” 

He puts the plate on your bed. “Well, they can’t send you to jail.” 

“‘Cos my back’s broken?” 

“‘Cos you’re too pretty for prison.” Steve sits up properly. “You need help?” 

He moves the donuts again onto your nightstand and hooks you under the arms to ease you into a sitting position. You’re back isn’t broken, for the record, but you fell funny coming out of the gate a few days ago and you haven’t bounced back yet. Worse, you've got an infected burn on your hand, wrist and arm from your Molotov cocktail. It’s out of commission, as are you while they pump antibiotics into the crook of your elbow. Steve’s careful not to tug your IV. 

You gasp, the twinge in your back turning to flame. “I know,” Steve murmurs, shockingly sincere, “I’m sorry. You’re not supposed to lie down all the time, or it won’t get better.” 

“I know.” 

“Yeah, of course you do. You know everything.” 

Insult or compliment, you’re unsure. What you do know is that Steve’s come to see you every day since you were checked in, he’s the one who checked you in, and he’s taken good care of you so far. He’s not even your boyfriend, you thought he liked Nancy— but he’s rubbing his hands down your shoulders and looking you in your face despite the horror he’s sure to be witnessing. Bruised eye, greasy nose, hair thankfully clean but completely untouched otherwise. 

“Better?” he asks, cupping your cheek. 

Is he gonna kiss me? you think. You glance down at his lips, then back up. Steve doesn’t notice or doesn’t mention it, his fingers drawing a gentle path behind your ear as his thumb aligns with your jaw. 

“Hey, don’t cry.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m not.”

“Sorry, you just looked so sad for a second.” He laughs wryly. Though you don’t feel like he’s making fun of you, he teases, “Cheer up. What have you got to be so sad about?” 

“You keep harassing me.” 

“Oh, that’s how it is!” He tips his head back. “Nurse! I’d like to report a thief!” 

You gasp, laugh, and attempt to cover his mouth as strikes of pain nibble up your spine. “Steve, don’t–” He catches your hands to stop you from silencing him, but he doesn’t shout again, holding your hands together in his lap, smiling smugly and affectionately at once. He has nice eyes that are almost almond in shape and a lovely light brown. They glow in the slither of light that sneaks its way through the blinds, raw amber, stomach-achingly pretty. 

You can’t look at him for too long. You defer to your hands scrunched up in the sheets instead. 

“I did pay for the donuts, by the way. I’m just messing with you.” 

You try to laugh. “Why doesn't that surprise me?” 

“You act like I’m such a jerk,” he says fondly, pulling you in for a cautious hug. He’s tender when he needs to be, you’d never have thought it of him, how sweetly and softly he rubs your back, how he murmurs near your ear. “Do you need more meds? I’m sure they can get you another dose of the good stuff if you pretend your gummy arm is aching.” 

“Thanks, Steve, but I’m fine.” 

He hums. “Think I can get them to let me stay the night?” 

“Steve, I’m really okay.” 

“It’s not about you, I just don’t wanna go home,” he lies poorly, “they don’t have donuts at home–”

His hand leaves your back. “Are you eating over my shoulder?” you ask. 

He hugs you tighter with the remaining arm. “What? No.” 

You feel sprinkles falling down your back and ignore it for now. He’ll have to help you out of bed in a few minutes anyways. He can sort it out then. For now, you lean into his chest and close your eyes tight. 

“I’ll sleep better in the chair by your bed,” he promises. 

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VI)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,100

CW: MDI 18+, toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, bullying, co-dependancy issues, self harm, not beta read.

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

A/N sorry its been so long! forgot wehat direction i was going in with this story so going off the few notes i had left about this chapter! might be a few changes ive made from the last few chapters, but hopefully it all makes sense! but this story is gonna get dark and sad!

Aemma had been pacing back and forth for the last hour, nerves clear on her face as her mother and brothers were set to arrive in only a days time.  She hadn’t spoken to her in what had felt like forever, and she had no idea on what too expect. She thought that perhaps she might have done something but thinking back on the countless letters she had written, she could not think of a single thing she could have possibly said. Perhaps taking Aemond’s side at Driftmark, or perhaps refusing to leave his side after the fact. 

She had made her complaint to Aemond, the morning after they had reconnected, he had simply laughed, “oh Aemma, do you really think your mother cares about you? She happily sent you of to wed me the second it was suggested.” He said as he brushed her hair for her, having dismissed her ladies so they could break their fast. “if she cared about you she would have demanded I got to Dragonstone, not you here, she simply wished to be rid of you.”

Aemma looked down, she refused to believe it, her mother had always preached how she was her favourite child, then again, after Driftmark her mother did just send her away, she would have visited her more or asked her to visit if it was true. “Really?” she asked tears in her eyes.

“oh of course” he smirked, “but do not worry dear, soon enough you shall be my wife and she will no longer have to even act as if she cared for you, and you will not have to care for her either.”

She shook her head, and looked up at him, meeting his smirk in the mirror “do you think she loves me still?”

“no” he replied instantly.

A tear fell from her eye “do you love me?” she near begged.

Aemond’s smirk widened, his eyes twinkling, “of course” she turned her head, and he instantly gripped her chin, “and you love me, don’t you?”

“no” she replied. His grip tightened slightly, “I do not know what it is to love Aemond, but perhaps…once we get to know each other more.”

He frowned. “We have known each other our who lives”

“Yes, but these past years we have been distant, I know nothing of you”.

“And whose fault is that” he said stepping away, “was it not for that bastard I would still have my eye! And you would love me!”

She stood up, following him, “how does-“he stopped her, turning around quickly to face her.                     

“Because it does!” he almost whined, “you were mine! And then you were handed to me on a silver platter and yet all you have done is whine about your mother and your stupid brothers!” he took a breath, allowing her an opportunity to speak.

“I begged to stay with you Aemond, I defended you and –“

“And you begged them to stay also!” she looked at him, she had never told him of the conversation with her mother.

“How do you know that?” she asked bewildered. “and what does that have to do with anything?”

“everything!” after what they did to me, to YOU! And you wanted them to stay” he shook his head, “I went to find you, I needed you and you were begging your mother to stay? Do you think I could forgive you?”

“Aemond-“ she was crying now.

“these past years I have grow into the man I knew you wanted, not the silly little boy you grew up with, but the man you need, my mother has been nothing but a mother to you, and yet you still crave that whore and those bastards”

“I’m sorry Aemond. “she said, reaching for his hands, “your right, I am so sorry, I just wanted my muna, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She caressed his hand, “but I didn’t want too lose you or her and yet I lost you both!” she whined, “I needed you too!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his waist.

She needed him. Aemond smiled, “goo. because I am all you will ever and have ever needed.” He said holding her to him, “your mother is here in formality over, and at the end of the week she will be nothing to you, I will be your everything, your husband, your protector, your Aemond.”

“And let me remind you sweet Aemma, that without me you would remain Lady strong, a princesses bastard. And yet you betrayed me, begged for our tormentors to stay and if that had happened do you think I would have been able to devote these past five years to becoming your protector, to become the man you desired?”

She shook her head.

“They were cruel to you, hated you. All because your mother favoured you, do you think they will have changed?”

She shook her head again, and started to think back, growing up all she had ever wanted was to marry Aemond, and have him be her protector and never have to see Jace and Luke again.

She had thought that after Driftmark she would never get that Aemond, he had changed the second that eye was taken from him. He became cold and cruel and there was even whispers he was mad.

“but-“she started to speak, a part of her felt like he had turned into them.

He had tormented her for years and now he seemed to be perfect for her. It didn’t make sense.

“But what?” he asked, suddenly moving closer to her.

“you have been cruel, ignoring me then you started to torment me, sending me the heads of Aemma’s roses, as if you were threatening me.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know what your talking about”

“yes you do!”

“no Aemma, your confused, I sent you Aemma’s roses, to show I was thinking of you , and I never cut there heads of” he laughed, “and I only ignored you as I felt so hurt by what you did”

“i- but you cut of-“ she shook her head, “I-I I’m so confused, Aemond I- perhaps I should ask Cassandra, she has a better memory than me –“

“no Aemma, your just misremembering, you’ve always had trouble with remembering things” he said, “and do you not trust me?” he said sounding sad.

she shook her head, “of course not- I, just I thought you hated me for whatever reason and now I must have thought your acts were of torment and not …love” she said unsure.

“it okay Aemma, I know you struggle and I know you have always had difficulties with things” he said softly, “I was hurt and scared you would hate me too, I should have been more upfront, it is all my fault” he said, pulling her into a hug, “I know you are sorry, and I am too”/

He wasn’t, he loved the look on her face when she opened the box of cut of Aemma’s rose heads, loved the way she was scared, but he also realised years of ignoring her had made him seem untrustworthy, and he feared he made a mistake, he had a new strategy to play. At first he wantec her to be scared and run to him for help, but it seems her ladies and beloved Cassandra had gotten in the way of that plan, and made him the villain.

He supposed he had to get them out of the way.

Since that conversation, Aemond had made sure she did not leave his side.

Saying how he missed her dearly, and realising how much he needed her and pushing her away had hurt him more than it hurt her.

She had felt so badly for him, and before he knew it they were back to their old habits, were she went he went, she would even ask him too choose all her clothes, even serve her dinner.

She forgot how simple life was with Aemond, how happy and easy he made her life.

And Aemond was loving it, he loved getting to control every detail about her, she would dress how he liked, believing it her choice to let him pick, she would follow him everywhere, meaning he no longer had to follow her.

The only problem was that her ladies maids were still in the way. They ere there when she woke, and dressed, giving question stares as he would enter her rooms, whispering in her ear about things Aemma would never reveal.

He wasn’t jealous just angry.

He had been hurt all those years ago and ignored her because he wanted to be better. Become the best possible Aemond, become her protector and a man who would never again loose his eyes to is silly little nephews, and someone who would never let them hurt Aemma again.

And it was blatantly obvious that his ignoring of her head made her annoyingly close to her little friends.

He had hidden letters from her mother the first year, then they came less and less, before stopping altogether. He would allow a few of Aemma’s letters to be sent, not before reading them himself. He wanted her too feel isolated, but that had failed, and now it would be too suspicious for Aemma to receive the letters her mother had sent over the years, especially as he had read them all and hated the love his sister had for her daughter, hated that no matter how hard he wanted to hide it, her mothers return would only pull them apart once more.

So he realised the game of isolation needed to change and to get ride of the Ladies he must earn their trust, so he wooed them, by sitting in at their gatherings and showing undivided devotion to Aemma, there was still the issue of Cassandra Baratheon. She despised him, and he here. She was brash and loud, and Aemma’s best friend. 

He wasn’t jealous, no, not at all. Not jealous of the way she effortless laughed at her jokes or talked to her without having the perplexed and wanted to please look in her eyes that’s she did with him.

He watched the bitterly as they chatted the day away. She seemed to light up around Cassandra, and he hated it.

“Are you nervous about you mother and brothers return?” Cassandra asked, sipping her tea.

“yes, especially my mother” she sighed, stirring her tea “I did receive a letter from my brothers this morning” she reviled, much to  Aemond’s surprise. He had ordered all letters addressed to Aemma be sent to him straight away, how this had escaped him – “I had waited in the ravenry for a reply for my letter, and one had just arrived when I got there.” She reviled, answering what Aemond was wondering.

“what did it say?” Cassandra and Aemond asked simultaneously.

“Luke and Jace were asking about how I am , and saying they were sorry if their actions in our youth  and wish for us to reconnect upon there return.” She replied.

“you will do no such thing” Aemond spoke, standing up.

“And why not?” Cassandra asked, clearly unhappy at Aemond.

“because of how they have always treated her!2

“oh please, they were children!” Cassandra spoke, now standing alongside Aemond, “ they have apologized and wish to know there sister, and from what Aemma has told me, I and my sisters have done far worse to each other than they did to her!”

Aemond scoffed, “please, they were bullies, they locked her in the black cells!”

“they- they what?” Cassandra asked, no looking towards Aemma.

“i- its true they did, but they have apologised incessantly since then.” Aemma said, trying to diffuse the situation, “they are my brothers, and they.. they said sorry”

“You still have nightmares Aemma” Aemond spoke, now moving back to his seat and taking her hands in his.

This perplexed Aemma she had never not once told Aemond of her dreams, especially of that night, he himself had always felt partly responsible for it, having taken so long to find her, and having left her alone that night. “what?” she asked, “I never told you about my dreams…”

Aemond flinched sightly, realising his mistake, and Cassandra herself took on an angry expression, “how do you know of those dreams Prince Aemond?” she asked, moving herself closer to Aemond and Aemma, as if to protect her.

“i- she is to be my wife, I only took a concern when the guards said she would often wake screaming.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“but that still-“ Aemma started, slowly removing her hands from Aemond.

“don’t concern yourself too much Aemma I simply stood guard to ensure you did not try to harm  yourself.”

Aemma flinched, Aemond cant know about that, no one does. Not even her maids. She had always kept her arms covered, he cant know.

Her eyes betrayed her, showing a scared expression, an expression both Aemond and Cassandra took to be scared about hurting herself.

“I – I” she stuttered, “I don’t know what you-“

“don’t worry Aemma, nothing bad happened, and your brothers wont get anywhere near you” Aemond spoke.

Aemma nodded, trying to mask her own fear of Aemond potentially knowing her secret to make it look like she feared her brothers.

Her parents were set to arrive on the morrow, and All Aemma could do was twist and turn. Dreams had been plaguing her. Ever since the black cells she has been getting premonitions, dreams of what was to come, dreams that have come true.

She supposed she was lucky, Helenas dreams caused her to speak in riddles, some even called her mad. When in truth Aemma was the one who was mad. She scratched and bleed as she dreamed, tearing at the skin on her arm. Her hands felt like they were soaked in blood, her nails turned red, as she scratched and teared. She dreamt of herself, she was married with children, but one was dead. She killed him. She must have, blood was on her hands, on her dress her face. Her other children cowered in the corner, flinching away from her.

“a son for a son!” she woke up gasping, the words ringing in her head.

Her bed sheets were stained in her blood, her arms scarred. The wounds from her last dream only just having healed.

She couldn’t help it, it was if her only escaped from her dreams was to harm herself. Perhaps it had been the three years of isolation she had felt so alone, where the dreams controlled her. She would send days and days tuck in the loop. Until one day her mother wrote to her of needing alliances and how her and Alicent had chosen her ladies. Her ladies had saved her, Cassandra specifically. She would wake her up, help her dress, and for once Aemma had a reason to escape her dreams. But then Aemond’s neglect and ignorance of her had turned cruel, calling her “my lady strong”, a name he had only just stopped calling her.

But something haunted her as she paced around her chambers, Aemond’s torment had put a stop to her dreams, the dreams were there was no dancing dragons, or no blood-soaked hands and gowns. Instead the dreams were of dragon snapping dragons neck, storm soaked nights and screams. And then since this week her nightmares have been full of crying, begging and blood. And now this.

It seemed no matter what her life would be full of tears and screams, and death.

“Aemma.” Cassandra said, walking into her chambers, alongside the rest of her ladies, Cerci Lannister, Cerelle Costayne, Margaret Fossway and Rosia Tyrell.

She had not slept since being awoken from her dreams, she had bathed and dressed, applied ointment to her scares, and had proceeded to pace her rooms nonstop.

She was worried, her mother would be here soon, and she had no ideas what she would be like.

She knew nothing of her, and she feared her mother may no longer love her. And well she was nervous about her wedding, and the wedding night. Aemond and Alicent had told her about it in the past week, and she was scared. And she just needed her Muna.

“how are you feeling?” Cersi asked.

“I am nervous” she admitted.

“of course, you will be wed on the morrow, you are bound to be nervous” Margaret added.

“well i-“

“but think, you will get to marry someone who loves you!” Rosia gushed.

“yes you are so lucky!” Cerelle complained, she had received news yesterday of her father engaging her to some man who had been married twice before and she had never met.

“oh Cerelle, he’s old hell probably die before you can wed.” Aemma said nonchalantly, and Cassandra laughed as she watched Aemma gasp at her own words. “sorry, just today the first time I will see my mother and brothers in years. I’m nervous”

Cassandra grabbed her hand, caressing home gently, “it’ll be okay, I’m sure.” She then looked to Cerelle “ and Aemma’s right, he’s what eight and seventy, he could croak at nay moment!” they all laughed, and for the first time that day Aemma’s mind was finally taken of what was to come.

She stood in the courtyard wating for their arrival, alongside her stood alone, Alicent having to have leave only moments ago to take care of something. She had done all her wedding planning with Alicent, she had comforted her when she cried over her mothers lack of care over her wedding, and visiting her despite her countless letters over the years. But Alicent seemed nervous, as if she was waiting for something or scared of something, and even more so when she had to leave.

After a few moments a carriage finally arrived in the courtyard, and her mother was the first to step out.

She wanted to run to her, to hug her and tell her how she had missed her. But her dream, it rang in her head.

“A son for a son” that all she could hear, and a voice in her head told her it was her mother’s fault, that her mother would force her to kill her son. She didn’t want to think it, but her mothers face, her blood soaked hands and a headless child was all she could see.

She made her way slowly walking down the steps the greet them.

“muña, lēkia” she greeted, a smile gracing her face. “welcome home”

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[year2000electronics]

Looked at your art of Mimi and Mr. L trying to sneak Brobot L-Type “discreetly” and acting like chaotic siblings made me brainstorm more hijnx for them to get up to like Mimi piercing Mr. L’s ears by hand, trying on different outfits, arguing over design choices for L’s robots, doing each other’s hair (long hair Luigi/Mr. L supremacy), trying to come up with a lie/match each other’s stories after getting caught by Nastasia doing something else they shouldn’t.

YESSS i love drawing mr l and mimi doing stupid stuff it fuels me. so here's some now!

i love the idea of mr. l's hair getting long/ratty... like in my mind luigi is the type of guy who forgets to get a haircut but since his environment has a lot of routine in it (when he's not out being a hero that is!) he usually remembers to clip it so it doesn't get too long, but once you eliminate that Routine... well. the long hair groweth

MIMI GIVING L A PIERCING MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD he thinks hes really cool i love that.

and ive always adored the concept of the other minions popping into the repair bay to bug mr. l for fun and sport LOL especially since it must be huge, so all of them are just chomping at the bit to go see the new minion's Big Toy Box. mr. l's prolly gotten used to people coming in and out

and finally, this doodle dump got me thinking- i talk about mr. l and mimi a lot, but i don't think i've ever really given thought as to how they become close when their initial interaction was so sour... and then i thought, what if it started with mimi transforming? i mean, i really like the headcanon that they can relate to each other in the struggle for identity, so why not have mr. l reacting authentically to one of mimi's transformations in a way she's never seen before- positively, and not in a 'you can strike so much terror' way?

mr. l sees HIMSELF looking back at him (and yknow, hes clearly desperate for that self-reflection, look at brobot), and his reaction would just be so GENUINE cos he 100% wasnt briefed on the others that well (considering he immediately mouthed off to them DSFJKSJDGF) and yknow, luigi himself is naturally very curious! and for mimi, whose usefulness to bleck and the gang is that she can be used as a tool, as something monstrous to strike fear into heroes... i think that would make her surprised and maybe even touched JUST enough to give the guy a second chance. that and the count wouldn't be in the room so maybe mr. l wouldn't be so desperate to prove himself haha

[pupyuj]

PLEAAASE PLSPLSPLSZZ g!p jock annyeongz dragging nerdy y/n under the bleachers and they team up and fuck her senseless n stupid!!! like front an back😫😫 kinda need this to be highly dubcon😫😫TYSM

also can i be 🍒 anon?

man i would be working on other asks but the moment i read "g!p" and "*any ive member(s)*" i just come running 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

sdjhcnxskcd the super hot co-captains of the softball team yujin and wonyoung making eyes at you while you talked to one of their teammates who happened to be your friend 👀 yujin was literally shamelessly staring at your ass, and wonyoung was desperately trying to look away from your tits but she couldn't :(( salivating while watching you retreat to the benches next to some substitute players and the team coach.. and them sharing a look right after, immediately knowing what the other was thinking bcs they share the same horny braincell 🙄🙄

the team getting a bit of an extended break time bcs the coach had to take a phone call,, yujin having an alleged big brain moment when she intentionally nudged a ball past where you were sitting,,, her asking you if you could get the ball for her... and since you were the team's lovely and polite visitor, you left your seat to fetch the ball which conveniently stopped right next to the bleachers!!! turning around to find yujin super close to you,, who knew the captain was so pretty?? your friend should have told you about her...

"thanks... i need another favour though." yujin glances over her shoulder and beckoned wonyoung, who had been watching from afar, over... the other captain was sexy too???? you felt so betrayed!! unfortunately, however, you didn't have time to ogle at the co-captains because yujin was suddenly tugging you under the bleachers and once the two of you were hidden,,, she was kissing you,, and you couldn't even pull away or do anything at all bcs wonyoung had come up behind you, trapping you in between her and yujin and kissing your neck,,,

hands were all over you,, one pair fondling your tits underneath your sweater and the other pair massaging your inner thighs,, it was wonyoung's hands that snuck their way inside your panties,, she used one hand to pull your panties off and used the other to immediately feel your wet folds :(( "w-wha... what are you— mmph... sto— everybody's right there.. a-ah..." it felt really good but you knew the three of you shouldn't be doing this kind of thing in such a place 😟 but the captains didn't care... they could fuck you in the middle of the field if they wanted! this was practically their turf—whatever they want, they're gonna have it 🫢🫢

omgomg both of them taking their pants off and you got so nervous bcs they were so big, there was no way you could keep yourself quiet, right???? yujin flipping you around so you were facing wonyoung's pretty face sjdhfkskc claiming that she wants your ass 😭 wonyoung could do either,, as long as she gets to cum inside you, it doesn't matter while hole she'll use 😚 you feeling so scared of being caught that you try to resist them at first :((( pushing wonyoung back when she tries to kiss you, moving away from yujin when she grabs your waist... but in the end you gave in.. hands all over wonyoung's soft hair while she kissed you, letting yujin rub your folds and pinch your nipples :((

"you're so wet... this should be easy, right, wony?"

"mhm."

wonyoung raises one leg of yours up to her waist, and suddenly she was inside you.. "ahh.. fuck, so warm and tight..." she was moaning, thrusting into you slowly,,, yujin didn't waste any more time and slammed her cock inside your ass 😩😩 she was faster and went deeper than wony,, it was overwhelming,,, you felt them both everywhere,, you were getting careless with the sounds you made so yujin puts her hand over your mouth tightly,, "go on, baby. be as loud as you want now." and ugh how they loved hearing your muffled moans...

both of them groaning in your ear,, muttering profanities while they fucked into you ruthlessly,, you don't know how you're gonna walk after this but you didn't want to think about that right now :((( sjdbekfd them getting so lost in pleasure that they just start using you like a fleshlight omg.. disregarding your comfort bcs you just felt so good around their cock that they kind of forget that you are, in fact, there :(( but wonyoung comes back to the ground and,,, SHE CAN'T STOP KISSING YOU 🥺🥺🥺 becoming a baby and just whining and releases high pitched moans bcs your cunt just swallows her cock in so easily :(((

"gonna come inside you.. want my cum in your pussy... mmhm... b-baby...!" SHE'S SO CUTE 😩

n then there's yujin who might be fucking possessed by a sex demon or something bcs she was relentless 🫢 she keeps swearing in your ear, nails digging into your hips, teeth biting onto your shoulder while pounding your ass.. absolutely obsessed with how you're taking both of them in despite how uncomfortable you felt what with your position and the ethics of it all... "e-every nerd is just a slut in secret, huh? fuck.." and she slaps your ass and thrusts impossibly faster???

you burying your head on wonyoung's shoulder as you came,, squirting all over and making a mess on your legs but the captains keep fucking you :((( now it was even worse bcs you were sensitive,,, shdbefjf both of them coming inside you,, so much of their load filling you up everywhere :((( it almost felt relaxing just feeling their seed seep inside you.. settling right on your womb and warming you up...

and when i say that they force you to jerk them off at the same time in the showers right after practice.. 🤤🤤🤤🤤

[hoseoksluna]

SMOKE, iv. | myg

pairing: idol!yoongi x smoke!oc (ft. jungkook)

genre: angst, heart-wrenching fluff

word count: 6.5k

summary: everything that hurts must begin to stop at one point. 

pinterest board: smoke / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: DOMESTIC ABUSE, oc gets triggered a lot in this chapter, dissociation, anxiety, alcohol consumption, a brief mention of physical violence, religion, praying, jk and oc smoke together.

note: hi, my babies. i'm here with another chapter. i really like this chapter a lot and i like where it's heading, so i hope you like it as much as you do. let me know what yout think. sorry, this is a bit short, but i didn't want to drag it out, esp. if everything that needed to get settled did. i love you all soso much, mwah.

When Jungkook appears, uncanvassed, damp and abysmal, in the field of my swimming vision, I have to stop dead in my tracks to see if my inebriated brain isn’t playing tricks on me. 

He’s sat on the half-wet stone of the staircase leading up to the street where I live. My apartment complex is just straight up, a minute away from where he’s waiting for me, and the wheels within my brain cells begin to whirr and turn, reminding me that I tapped on the crescent moon icon on my phone before I absconded to my girl best friend for a heart-to-heart conversation and a new set of nails. Misty-eyed, I recounted to her the monochrome poetry lines that bloomed through last night between me and Yoongi and wilted in my bare, sleep-cloaked hands this morning while she filed down the freshly baked acrylic powder. The moment she heard the deadly words that were spat at me, she flung her rosy, tiger-print file across her station, got up to her feet without a word and came back with a bottle of my favorite pink nectar in even pinker, fancy glass, certainly not meant for wine. 

And I downed each and every refill in one, singular gulp everytime she moved onto the next step and my hand was free. 

And Miyun… as much as she erupted in her idiosyncratic rage, her work on my nails was immaculate and untouched by her vivid lava. Curses and funny remarks, that yanked the weight off my shoulders and wiped it out using her vigor and red-hot magma, shattered the room until I laughed so hard that the alcohol dipped into my system far quicker than usual. She glued on the crosses I had asked for while I chortled, and she shushed me, breaking into a soft, non-obvious laughter that she tried to keep at bay while her hair fanned around her. Cherry-red, long and lustrous, curling on the smooth skin of her arms. The laughter died down and silence replaced it as she laid down the last layer of top coat over her artwork—and I felt a certain inspiration seize me. 

“What if I dyed my hair red, too?” I voiced it out, a seawave of different kinds of co-existing emotions ebbing and flowing in me. Airiness and offense, care and distance. And they were all roped around the memory of Yoongi in me like the roots of flowers in a colorful meadow soil. Vast and expansive, yet delicate and frail. One sweep of the wind’s harsh breath and they tilt—and remain tilted. 

I do, too, despite my efforts. 

Despite my ingrained fight to straighten and my strivings to be unaffected, unagitated and undisturbed by the way I was disrespected by Yoongi. They were all fruitless, however. Barren of my long-exercised resilience against the violence of men, my wariness and vigilance of them only strengthening. 

He took me to the far north side of paradise with his tongue and fingers in the middle of the night. And when the sun rose, he treated me like I dragged him to the deepest of hell and left him there to perish of starvation and thirst.

I should have seen it coming and prepared myself for it, especially when I had decided in my heart to take care of him, take care of the deep-sunk, nameless agony in him that prevented him from coloring our stanzas. But alas… it came to face me too soon, in my gossamer defenselessness.

Yoongi metamorphosed into the vermin that Ji-hoon was. His face faded on top of his while my ex-boyfriend’s body remained intact, broad and fear-instilling. And when Yoongi stood up so quickly, I sailed back, against my will, to the sheer realm of brutality that I had dwelled in, years ago. Yoongi with Ji-hoon’s body, abandoning me after I got myself into trouble. For wearing too much make-up, for having long manicured nails, for dressing a certain way that was impertinent in our relationship. He would leave a bruise for every mistake I made to discipline me, to ascertain that I would learn from it and never do it again. And I did learn after I was depleted of color-correcting concealers, the sinews I would use to raise my hands and tap the cream product in, erasing my foolish mistakes from the eyes of Jungkook, Minyun and my parents. 

I fought for too long during the relationship. For my freedom, for my dignity. And I fought for too long after the relationship to go through it all over again. 

I dreaded being hit when Yoongi stood up from my couch. Flinched when he went around the coffee table past me because I anticipated the swing of his arm with my eyes boring holes into my carpet. I had flexed my muscles to brace myself against the incoming physical pain so hard that I nearly gasped, pathetically, for air when he walked on into the corridor. 

But I still couldn’t look at him. 

Although I knew, rationally, that Ji-hoon wasn’t present, I didn’t let up until he shut the door behind me with a soft click because my body didn’t connect to my clear-headedness. It was caught in a fight or flight response like an ensnared bird. 

And this must’ve been what Minyun was seeing when she contemplated me, paused in the middle of dusting her station clean with her pale-pink kabuki brush. Because she resumed right after once I reciprocated her gaze and curled her lips under her teeth. 

“We can go to Olive Young then, and stop by 7-Eleven after to get some snacks and drinks.” 

She reflected on my wound and didn’t hesitate to cradle my head and bring me to a safe refuge. 

And I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around her and hug her until all those oxymoronic emotions, which I felt towards Yoongi, dulled in the smallness of me. 

I let her take the lead. Choose the vibrant, deep cherry tint that would annul my trigger and dye me anew. I sipped on my iced cherry drink for the occasion while she glided the brush along my strands, splattering most of the orange paste on the thick wisp of the symbol of my connection with Jungkook, the only man in my life who never used his manliness against me. I thought about him as she rubbed it in; and I thought about Grookey. Thought about how, in that very moment, I was saying goodbye to the self I possessed while being attached to them. 

And when Minyun washed my hair and curled her round brush through it, the stark contrast to who I was before overwhelmed me so much that I began to weep. 

I couldn’t recognize myself, I didn’t know who that girl in the mirror was. But something told me that she was stronger than who I used to be. And while it felt petrifying to be standing alone in the crook of my past self and my current self, the longer I gaped at myself, the more I adapted to the assurance that she was emanating. 

She wasn’t going to take any shit from any man ever again. Certainly not with darkly, sequoia-kissed hair like that.

Minyun brushed her thumbs under my eyes and shifted me deeper into the refuge by grabbing my shoulders and guiding me to her balcony, where she sat me down on her chair while she crouched in front of me. Sliding a tiny cigarette into her IQOS and taking a puff, she leaned over to the square table and grabbed her pack, nudging a longer, classic cigarette between my chapped lips. 

I never smoked on my own. I would take hits from her slender, pink case of flavored air or steal her cigarettes when I had enough buzz from the alcohol in my veins. Forget about it the following days and weeks that we wouldn’t see each other because I was such a hermit. But I didn’t want to be one anymore—I wanted to spend more time with her from now on. With Jungkook, too. 

“You look so pretty with your new hair,” Minyun said, sweetly, leaning back on her sock-clad heels in her Louis Vuitton slides, wrapping her arm around her knees like I did around my chest last night, and I inhaled her compliment along with the drag of her cigarette. “We’re twins now.” 

I had become such a fragile egg shell that her words multiplied in me as they settled in my lungs, bursting and imbuing me with pigments of confidence. And I beamed through my tears, a light protruding through clouds, as I exhaled the smoke. 

It felt as natural as breathing—to claim her cigarettes and make them a thing of my own. 

In place of Grookey. 

It’s what Jungkook spots first, instead of my hair, once he senses my presence and lifts his head, standing up to his feet, towering over me. And he must’ve been waiting for a long time because his scolding words are flung out first before anything else.

“Where have you been? Do you know how scared I was? I called you up. I rang your doorbell and you wouldn’t answer. All day.” 

I take a long drag just to stabilize myself, gratitude unfolding in my sternum for the way he isn’t manly. 

He’s merely caring. 

Hovering above me, moving his arms in my proximity, features stern in his soft manner, and yet I’m not threatened by my fear because I know him, because I trust him. Trust that everything about him is securely soft and boy-like, round and endearing—even when he raises his voice a little at me. 

Minjun and I took another bottle of rosé to her balcony that we finished by passing it to each other and smoking like there was no tomorrow, so the liters of the nectar that flit in my bloodstream elevate how I see him and my body is naturally inclined to do something I normally wouldn’t do. 

And much to Jungkook’s surprise and a little bit to his dismay, I listen to that hushed tone of my heart and obey it—discovering that it is an aid and nothing else. 

“Since when do you—” 

I silence his stupid, yet valid question by wrapping my arms around his neck, careful not to nip his skin with the hot prickle of the cigarette. Its orange tip envelops us in a soft glow in the middle of the darkening evening, the smoke surrounding us like a protection ring. It takes three beats of my heart—which in reality must be his and surely not mine considering the numbness that has descended, fully, in me—for his arms to move and swathe me in complete safety. 

He’s rescuing me, like Minyun did. Bouncing off of her and finishing the job, without knowing a thing about it. 

We become one, singular form of a penumbra, dressed as we are in this unlit shade. Jungkook with his cargos and baggy sweatshirt; me with my tracksuit that’s too big for me. His neck is cold and I scatter a little bit of my warmth upon that skin, regretful that he waited for me this long because of my foolish forgetfulness. 

My dearest boy best friend. 

I squeeze him harder and Jungkook buries his nose in my shoulder, fisting the fabric of my hoodie on my back. 

And then, he sniffs my hair. Makes a Korean sound of discovery and surprise. Pulls back just to look at me with narrowed, inspecting eyes. Drags me to the nearest street lamp—and I watch his eyelids grow to their original, bulbous size. 

Roundie. 

He has noticed my hair, at last. 

Fluffs it and completely destroys the impeccable blowout that Minyun gave me. 

“What the fuck, Jungkook?” I grumble, pushing his hand away, but, like my hoodie, he fists both of my wrists in one hand and sinks the other one into my length, following the diligent curve that Minyun created. 

I huff, and the sound is deadened by the devastating words he utters, disappearing into the prickling coldness of the air. 

“What did he say to you that made you do this?”

I dwell in silence, my numbed emotions leaden, dented and yet sharp enough that I feel their resurfacing pain. 

I look away, untangling my wrists from his hold. Jungkook unclenches his fist, but the ash from my cigarette lands on the back of his hand. I gasp, quick to brush it away, however he’s quicker. Doesn’t make a sound in response. Shakes his hand and steals my cigarette, puffing on it. 

My mouth parts. Shock strangles me. 

He smokes? 

Jungkook’s seriousness droops as he chuckles, dryly, at my reaction. He takes a step back, slides a hand in the pocket of his pants, coalesces into the shadows of the early blooming night. 

“I didn’t know you smoked either,” he says, smiling in that lopsided way of his, a large dent in his cheek. And it feels as though I’m getting to know my best friend for the first time. What else is he hiding? What does he do, in utmost normalcy, when he’s not with me? 

He dips his chin to look at the cigarette before he flicks his thumb across its ivory butt. The ashy particles fly to the rocky ground in tandem with his smile. And his mind travels back to this morning’s misfortune, as rapid as a rocket shooting up beyond the clouds. 

“I’m not giving this to you until you tell me what he said. The last time you did something to your hair like this was when you left that good-for-nothing son of a bitch.” 

A fleck of memory appears before my eyes. Me dousing my hair in black dye with my own hands while Jungkook stood by; him putting my star clips in my no longer virgin strands to distract my tears, me sliding the same ones into his, making a middle part and laughing until my stomach hurt. He had healed me by just being with me, not expecting words, not expecting any explanations. 

Him asking me for them has a great meaning, a certain hastiness that I know full well has a stabbing pain, and I feel his fear, instead of mine. Understand, all of a sudden, why he waited for so long.

And I put him first, just so that emotion unclenches its fist from him. Nod my head to let him know that I’ll tell him, bare my heart for him. 

I walk backwards and sit down on the stony stairs. Jungkook joins me, right beside me. Takes a long drag of the cigarette as if to prepare himself for what I’m about to share with him—and I need the same smoky courage. I take it from him, puff on it and give it back to him. He gives me a gentle smile and I recognize the reason behind it.

A new form of bonding settles between us. 

I reciprocate the smile and gather my words in the brief silence. The wind helps me as it breezes through my hair, fondles my face ever so gently and when I lift my chin at its attention, my eyes stumble across the full moon. 

I breathe in its pristine energy. Let my lungs be full of its beams—and let it cleanse me, thoroughly. 

Jungkook’s patience helps me, too, as he quietly finishes the cigarette, stubbing it out on the step. Ready to listen. 

And so I begin. 

“I invited him upstairs because I wanted to,” I start and realize that I have to come forth with the truth. Deem that he deserves to know. I look inward, quickly, and try to detect any obstacles in me—but I find myself empty, cleansed, a dried fountain with no drops of water, yet I am free. With the alcohol still trickling in my bloodstream. “I didn’t feel sick. That was a lie.” I flick my eyes to his reaction, catch him widening his eyes and parting his mouth and I decide it’s time for another cigarette. I pull one for him and myself, lighting it up for the both of us. “I didn’t want you to know that I got triggered. I’m sorry for that.” 

Jungkook blows the smoke in the other direction, away from my face. He furrows his brows in pity as he leans his elbows on his outstretched knees. 

I expect him to yell at me… but he does the exact opposite, soothing me down to the marrow of my bone. 

“Triggered? How?” he asks, his voice so muted that I barely hear it, lips pursed in that eternal pout of his and mine mirror it, naturally. I appreciate his gentleness so much that I lean the side of my head against his shoulder. And he leans his against the top of mine. 

“I guess I wanted to be alone when I left the room and I found Hobi at the end of the hall. I sat with him for a little while and when he started talking, I realized he was drunk and my body gave up on me. I dissociated like I used to after the breakup. I thought I was better, that I healed from it, but it’s been a long since I was in the company of men, you know? I didn’t want to disappoint you, especially when I’d promised you that it wasn’t happening to me anymore.” 

I hear him take a strong puff and I reflect him, doing the same. Then, he sighs and extends his legs, his back rounding forward. I watch the smoke make patterns in the night-tinged air and I breathe differently, now that I’ve pulled the skeleton out of the closet. And even though my emotions are numb, my softness deepens when Jungkook takes the bony creature into his arms and begins to dance with it. 

“You could never disappoint me,” he whispers, his words the music for the dance, and I wrap my fingers around his clothed forearm, just holding him there, needing it. “You should’ve told me. Did you think I would tell you off for it? Of course not, you silly goose.” 

I chortle, and the smoke comes out in staccatos that are guided by my tender laughter. And he melts it with his following words. 

“How can I help you? Should I get you a therapist? I don’t want you to take meds for it…” he trails off, clicking his tongue and fishing out his phone from his pocket. His fingers move on the keyboard of his screen and the letters I read fracture my heart and glue it back together all the same. “Grounding techniques. Breathing slowly while counting. Different sounds, walking barefoot, blanket, ice cube or cold water—”

My mouth opens before my brain registers what my weakened heart longs to say. 

“Yoongi splashed cold water on my face and neck and that brought me back,” I spew out, tiny tears lining my vision at the memory, at the feel of his cold, solid hands, at the sight of his wide, fearful eyes that relaxed when he realized that I was back in the present times. “He saved me.” 

I blink them away; I smoke them away. 

Jungkook sucks in a breath, clicking on an article about dissociation and scrolling down. “Yoongi and I will be your therapists, then. For free.” 

I look away and withdraw from him, twiddling with my fingers. My heart enlarges, yearns for it—yearns to create a link to his beyond the physical bound we have, reach out for him like a child for its father, but my fear of being triggered again, of being afflicted by his pain slaps its arms away from him. 

It’s not meant to be—Yoongi is not the one for me because if he were, there wouldn’t be any barrier between us. And with that knowledge, my obsession with him, slowly and painfully, dissipates, leaving my frailty and my willingness to help him, if he’d ever need me, in the hands of God. 

But knowing the faces of manliness and ego, Yoongi won’t allow himself to be helped by me. And that bruises me more than the words he flung at me.  

Jungkook senses my absence more vividly than I want him to, and his head swivels in my direction, the article momentarily forgotten. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, prodding me, and it’s me who sighs this time. 

I take the last drag and gaze at the moon as I speak. “Yoongi can’t help me when he needs help himself.” 

The yellowish face of the bulbous planet nods at me and I feel, ever so slightly, at ease, leaning my elbows back on the steps. That is until a lump forms in my throat and, inertly, I ask the feminine luna for her strength, for her resilience, and I ask her to help me become my new self that resembles her so much. 

Jungkook locks his phone and stares at me. “What happened this morning?” 

And perhaps she does nurture me with what I need through her radiance after all because I don’t hesitate to tell him. 

“I wore lingerie to bed that was see-through and when I looked for him and found him crying on my couch, he told me, ‘can you, please, put something fucking on?’ and left,” I unravel, violently, mimicking Yoongi’s coarse morning voice, and Jungkook scoffs, averting his gaze. He sucks hard on the last of his cigarette before throwing it away with the same nerve, shaking his head as he thinks about those poisonous words. Validates me, like Minyun did. 

It takes several heartbeats and several more moonbeams puncturing my sternum before he turns back to me. 

“Check your phone.” 

A wrinkle between my brows. “Why?” 

“Just do it.” 

Without understanding why he wants me to do that, I comply. I pull out my phone from my purse, the light from the screen bathing me in stark blue. Jungkook chews on his bottom lip as he watches me read my notifications from him, Minyun and Netflix. And when I say nothing, he tilts his head and reads them on his own, only to groan and place it in his hands. 

Then, he stares off into the distance. 

“What?”

He takes my hand and drags me to my feet. “Come on.” 

I yelp and Jungkook yanks me to the patch of grass by the street lamp, kneeling by the gravel. And I can’t speak as he builds a praying altar of rocks, leaves and sticks. I can’t speak when he holds it in place and makes sure it doesn’t collapse, as small and sturdy as it is. And I can’t speak when he adorns it with an abandoned, pink flower petal that he finds nearby. Places it on the top of the last stone, against the flesh of the damp, green leaf that is propped by a petite rock. 

And in my silence, once he’s done, he tugs my hand down, sinking me to my knees. Sits back on his folded legs and presses his palms together. 

“God, I know that you know I don’t believe in you. My dad probably talks to you a lot about me, so I’m sure you know who I am. I don’t come to you because of me, though. I come to you right now because my friends need you,” Jungkook prays, his voice mellow and subdued, meant for my ears and the ears of God that I myself believe in, but don’t have a relationship with. I settle down into my respect for his bravery and kindness, closing my eyes, and I feel him enveloping his fingers around mine on my lap. My heart thumps and my other hand finds the way to it—I pin my palm to the left side of my chest, cradling those full-blooded strikes, willing the corners of my mouth not to quiver. “My dad says you know everything and right now I really hope that you know what Yoongi went through. I ask you, sincerely, to give him strength to be a better person. To make sure his feet don’t walk backwards but forward with the girl beside me. I also ask you to help her to not dissociate anymore, help her not remember that son of a bitch, sorry—that guy that broke her. And altogether, I ask you to heal them both. Also, make sure Yoongi mans up a little and texts her like I wanted. Or just do something, anything. Give him ideas. Make his balls grow or whatever. Thank you. Sorry for all I did. Amen.” 

The tears fall and I can’t halt them, nor do I want to. Lightness floods my chest, my mind, spreads all over my bones, and I breathe out in hiccups. I agree with his prayer by whispering the same ending word and when I glance at Jungkook, I see him meditating, privately, on something on his own. 

It inspires me, comforts me and impassions me to do the same. 

I flutter my eyes closed and quieten my breathing. 

Dear God, if I was wrong and this is for me, allow me to take care of Yoongi. Help us find a way towards each other and cleanse my heart from all the pain. 

And then the words spill, my prayer prolonging, and I discern that they don’t root from me, bathed in the glimmer of the moon as they are. 

I forgive him and I’m giving him another chance. Give us the opportunity to better our actions and communicate our pains. Give us the strength to do so. Give us the words. Give us peace of mind and clarity. Thank you. Amen. 

My tears have dried by the time I’m finished with my internal prayer. Jungkook has patiently waited the whole time, holding my hand, and he gives me the lovingest, most wholesome smile I’ve ever received in my life when I face him. He kisses my knuckles and I feel, strongly, that it seals our prayers. 

Helping me stand, it’s him who hugs me this time around. I bury my face in his chest, fisting the back of his sweatshirt like he did to me when I arrived. We remain like this, underneath the lenitive moonlight and the merciful eye of God that I sense upon us. And I know, in the abyss of my weakened heart, that I shall never forget about this moment. 

“Did you also feel that lightness in your chest?” Jungkook asks onto my hair, and I nod, too lost in my brimming, alive emotions—no longer numb, but erupting in tender colors—to answer. Love, thankfulness, delicate joy and that persisting lightness. 

Grabbing my shoulders, he breaks the hug and grins down at me. He glows underneath that street lamp, a pure whiteness lining his form, the tiny twinkling freckles of stars scattering upon his skin and I love him. 

I love my best friend. 

And the more I look at him, the more I’m reminded of the way I put the star clips in his hair and I think it would only be right if he were to wear them right now. 

I link my arm around his. 

“Let’s go inside.” 

The moonlight shone upon our way, ascertaining that we didn’t stumble. Reached a standstill and formed a ring around us when we stopped by the door to my apartment building and had another cigarette together, this time another shared one because I felt as though I had inhaled too much smoke throughout the day. 

The stars poked at my back in our silence, encouraging me to break it, and I did—once it was my turn to puff. I thanked him, earnestly, for the prayer, showed him my nails embellished with little silver crosses, ones he gaped at with utmost fascination before it all spurred something in him enough for him to share with me what went down earlier in the morning after Yoongi left my apartment. 

Crestfallen Yoongi, drenched from the rain, murky, cloud-bearing; the very one I know. Jungkook had to, essentially, extricate him from the force of his innermost downpour, and I waded through the torrent with each information he provided me. 

He was profoundly regretful and made a fool out of himself by choking at the sound of my name—something that made my cheeks ignite with coy flattery and my fingertips to tingle. The knowledge that he rued his actions wove through my prayer and quelled me, my heart and my mind, until there was no ounce of ache that bothered me. 

I entered a state of sobriety, plopping down onto my couch with a small basket of hair ties and clips. Jungkook wasn’t really cognizant of what I was doing as he focused on telling the story, describing, in his teasing manner, the way Yoongi looked like while he spoke of me. The way his cheeks flushed and light burst in his eyes. He was so preoccupied with the task that he didn’t flinch when I brushed his hair with my Kuromi tangle teezer, nor when I put up his hair in two pigtail buns and secured them with matching, violet Kuromi hair ties. 

His hair felt brittle in my fingers from all the bleach the stylist used on his hair. Briefly, I remembered the way he specifically asked her if there was a drugstore alternative to the professional dye and he went to buy it for me that very day and we splattered it on together, with him choosing the strand, of course. I made a mental note to talk about his hair with him later. 

I grew hot when he shifted to the part, where he read to him the message I sent for him. I had cleaned the whole apartment in effort to rid myself of the residue of my trigger, but my care for him remained because I understood where he came from. What I hadn’t known was that after listening to my heart and typing out the message, I would get tormented by my mind so viciously that I had to seek my girl best friend. My care for him sank to the bottom of me and the offense I felt resurfaced, swallowing me whole. 

To know, in the present time, that Yoongi thought it too good to be true, grew smaller when Jungkook began to tell him off, washes it all out and I am a brand new canvas. 

I take off my hoodie, aflame. 

“He really thought about what I said to him and he even put your number in his phone. I visibly saw him opening a new text message and typing something,” Jungkook says, exasperated, and I have to chuckle to myself—he looks so damn adorable with the two minty buns, but he’s still missing those clips. I search for them in my basket, reveling in that fire of his, which his words are permeated with, the heat stifling me. “I thought he sent it to you. I didn’t see him do it because I got a call from Namjoon, asking where we were. We had a meeting right after—and that’s also something I need to talk to you about.” 

My ears perk up and I freeze with the clips in my hands. 

The smile Jungkook gives me this time is cheerless. 

The sweat that coats me morphs into a layer of iciness. 

“We’re going on tour abroad next month,” he imparts and my heart closes. I disintegrate, the clips falling out of my hands. And the stars blanketing the heavens outside must do the same, plummeting to the ground, conjointly, with me. “We were supposed to have another concert tonight, a secret one that would be made into a docuseries, but then America fucking called.” 

That means no hanging out with Jungkook, no star clips; no seeing Yoongi and leaving things as they are—unfinished and still aching on his part. 

And that leaves me alone with my thoughts. 

I pout, my heart dead silent. 

“When will you be back?” 

Jungkook gathers the fallen clips and sets them down upon my open, vulnerable palms. Manages to warm them up in that brief exchange. 

“There aren’t many tour dates. I’ll be back before—”

My phone pings in the kitchen. 

And before I can breathe, Jungkook scurries to his feet and flees. 

Grabs my phone and holds it in front of my face, so the detector can unlock what the notification hides. And once it does and his eyes sweep over the lettering multiple times, he squeals. Springs. Beams like the warmest star he is, personified firelight. And I’m more happy that he’s happy than I’m happy about the fact Yoongi has done something. 

For me. 

Jungkook slides the phone into my clammy hand and I let out a little breath. Instagram has notified me that a certain person that goes by the name agustd liked my post. I smirk, cupping my face, while I click on the notification to see what exactly he liked. Jungkook sits beside me and looks over, laughing, vehemently, through his nose before he starts clapping. 

My stomach jumps, stirring my butterflies awake. 

I’m wearing a knitted set in the picture, nearly pellucid with how stretched out and purposefully ripped the fabric is, and I’m sat on my vanity table in my room with my arched back facing the mirror, my long black hair obscuring most of the sheerness of my spine. 

Is that a truce? Liking a picture where I’m wearing something so akin to the slip that broke us this morning? If he did, then that’s an intelligent move in the chessboard of all toxicity. 

And I like it. 

I blush, profusely. But then another notification rings through my living room and Jungkook stills beside me. We share a look, both of our mouths parted, before he steals my phone, though I slap his back and retrieve it from his grasp, the shifting causing the message to get opened. 

I run a hand down my face. “You clicked on it and now he can see I’ve read it, Jungkook.” 

He merely laughs. “So what? Read it.” 

I groan, tipping my chin, focusing my gaze on the letters, and my heart thrashes in my ribcage. And their meaning propels it to fly on the wings of my butterflies. 

The letters tremble in tandem with my hand as I read them. 

“I’m sorry for my behavior this morning, you didn’t deserve that. I hope you allow me to make it up to you as best as I can. Car drive tomorrow at 8 PM? Food’s on me, you just bring your playlist, moon kitty. And your sneakers. Yoongi. Jungkook gave me your number.” 

My heart stops mid-flight. And I don’t see Jungkook’s eyes abounding in the glow of the stars. Neither do I hear his laughter and his praises for Yoongi because I walk backwards into myself. 

Bring your sneakers. 

I see myself getting hit for wearing heels. I don’t feel the pain, but I have a glimpse of the bruise forming on my cheek, a patch of red and purple staining me for weeks only because I wanted to feel pretty and feminine on our date night. And before Jungkook’s voice can get to me, the echo of Ji-hoon’s command fans out in me. 

You won’t dress like a slut when you’re with me. Take them off. That dress, too. And wear your sneakers. 

I was forced to wear jeans and Nike’s to a fancy restaurant while he sported nice pants and a polo. And much to his dismay, and later to mine as well, I still received stares and smiles. From men and women alike. 

The memory splinters at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. And I perceive that it’s just that. 

A memory. 

I didn’t dissociate. 

And vulnerability clutches me so tightly that I shrivel and don’t think before I fold myself into Jungkook, hugging him until the memory completely evaporates. 

Jungkook pets my head as I bury it deeper into his chest. “What’s wrong?” 

“Just a memory,” I heave, blinking rapidly, and Jungkook holds me to him, sifting his fingers through my hair. 

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, continuing with the movement that intersperses mollification all over my being, and I nod. 

As long as I have my best friend, I will be okay. 

“It happened this morning, too,” I admit, unafraid, and Jungkook stills for a moment. “When Yoongi got up from this couch, I thought I was gonna get hit again. And now when I read that he wants me to wear sneakers, I remembered the way Ji-hoon hit me because I wore heels that one time. But it wasn’t so bad. I didn’t dissociate. Your prayer helped.” 

Jungkook curls around me and holds me tighter, putting me back together, and I let him. 

I let him because there’s nothing else for me to do. 

There’s no one else for me. 

“He’s not here anymore. He’s not in your life. I broke his leg, remember? He can’t walk back into your life.” 

It’s the only memory, where he’s present, that brings me pleasure: Jungkook finding out I was a victim of domestic abuse and chasing him all over the city until he yanked him by the back of his shirt and beat him until he was unrecognizable. He broke his leg by purposefully driving over it with his motorcycle upon leaving, considering the deed done. 

“Every time your bad memories come back to haunt you, remember this one,” Jungkook advises and I pleat his words, stuffing them somewhere inside my sternum, where I can return to them and remember them like he said. Use them as a weapon.

Something tells me that now I shall need it more than I ever have before.

“Yoongi isn’t like him, I promise,” he continues, seeping his boyish warmth into my skin as he cups my face and makes me look at him. I feel as though I have run a marathon with the way I breathe spasmodically and Jungkook sees me, composes me by leading me to take deep breaths that subdue my nerves. “I regretted letting him take you home but for a far different reason. Underneath all that pain is a good person. A romantic that has lost his hope, but if there’s anything I can depend on, it’s the fact that Yoongi will find what he’s lost. And he’s halfway there. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have texted you.” 

I ponder his words, my heart collecting all those stars that have plummeted from the heavens, and, internally, I use their light to help me comprehend the deeper meaning behind his words. A romantic that has lost his hope. I wonder what meadow of agony he walked through—and I wonder how much it would devastate me if I ever were permitted to place my bare feet upon his footprints on that flowery soil. 

“You can trust him because I trust him.”

I slide the star clips beneath the space buns I twisted his hair in and I nod. 

“Let’s text him back.” 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist | READ third part

[hballegro]

i have more conspiracies about MASH that may or may not be true, but ive decided they are. they also just might have been explained, but im dumb, and cant remember. heres your sequel.

in 7x3 where hawkeye tackles bj, bj goes "AAH!' and hawkeye says 'WRONG! THAT STARTS WITH AN H!'. this is because mike farrell's line was 'hey!' but due to the force and drama of the scene, just Yelped instead.

All the dogs that turned up that never appeared again [like the one bj and hawk "ate" when they were trying to scare a visitor, dogs seen in 1 shot, etc] were just dogs that the production crew/cast owned and wanted to bring to work/volunteered their animal for acting duty

in the handful if scenes where hawkeye is actually knitting [and not using the red yarn, for the reason given in the previous edition], hes making a blankie for erin. [co-credit my sibling]

klinger got his ears pierced during the course of the show, starting with clearly just clip-ons and then later declares he doesnt want his ears to close up. some say continuity error, I say commitment (and also it would probably be easier to find real earrings instead of clip-ons)

in s7e2 Peace on Us, no one told bill christopher to tie that red streamer around his neck, he just thought it would be silly

in s7e2 Peace on Us, again, no one told alan alda to drive the jeep back to camp with his leg up like that. he just knows the character well enough to make that call. which he's correct about

the scar on hawkeye's lip was caused by a fishhook in his youth. got called Troutboy a long time afterward because of it.

bj is a vaseline girlie and takes good care of his hair as well.

hawkeye sniffs food because, having grown up partly during the depression, eating spoiled food was a real risk, so giving it a good ol' sniff-test was a given

fr mulcahy cares deeply about his appearance and engages in more grooming activities than any other guy in camp [the shower cap, always looking perfect, owning gardening gloves, manicured hands and feet, etc]. he even irons his stole on a bi-weekly basis and launders his clerical collars

hawkeye's issues with people leaving and not saying goodbye began with his mother after she passed, since his father didnt want him to worry

on nights where charles goes to bed after the other two, he will occasionally clean up a little bit. this contributes to why he's so pissed in 'Pressure Points'- he's been doing his own cleaning and some of theirs without them noticing or caring.

once again these are all just things that came to mind while watching, i didnt think too hard on them. the only one 'researched' on was the food sniffing, solely because i needed to do Year Math lol

[wildshona]

Samhain Sacrifice

Sorry this is a long one.

So, yesterday I got up in a sort of Goth dress and stockings and went to a party, having made myself look nice and pale. Btw the dress came down to my knees so no naughty stocking tops. I knew theer would be kids at the first part of the party.

So Chris and i arrived at about 6 and the party had been goin on for about an hour already. It was at Toni’s – yes, I know, I wanted that just like my followers no doubt too – anyway there was a marquee in her garden . i think i’ve said that she has a fuck off big house next to the common. Anyway, there were jugglers and fire eaters and a punch and judy show and all sorts of Victorian hucksters and games and a fortune teller who told me that there would be many men and women in my life. Good to know huh, keep hoping you folk. Anyway the kids who were all dressed up in Halloween costumes and looking cutely scary were having a great time and the grown ups were too and drinking in moderation cos there were kids there. Oh and food was kid type food – hot dogs and burgers and inedible stuff for vegans.

Anyway the kids part of the party ended at 9 and the vanilla folk went home and the party could start tho there wasn’t any sign that this was going to be a sex party. Sure some of the new arrivals were dressed in dead cheerleader or dead sexy schoolgirl outfits and there was  lot of leather and pvc about but nothing that shouted time to fuck. So there was drinking and dancing and a bit more food and god i haven’t mentioned Toni.

She was doing gracious hostess dressed in this long white gown that was really clingy. I mean really clingy. Fucking obvious theer was no underwear under there.

Anyway there was a big cheer when a gong sounded at 10 and it was announced that Samhain had begun and then things carried on. Then a pair of arms came round my waist from behind and a voice whispered

Do you trust me Shona? It was Toni

Yes

Will you do anything i ask of you tonight?

Fucking yes – well actually i just said yes and i could feel my nipples go hard against my corset bodice.

About quarter past eleven Chris came up to me – we don’t stick together much at parties unless we’re fucking – Toni says follow me. OK then. So i follow Chris and there are people changing out of their party gear and putting on black robes like you see in horror films – complete with the hoods three women, two men and Chris made a third. I had a white one. I was expected to dress down to nothing and put it on – well everyones was doing the same and im not exactly shy and im wondering whats going to happen very aware of my hard tits and my wet cunt.

Anyway at eleven forty forty i guess a gong sounds and we process from where we heve changed int the marquee where everyone applauds and parts and ive got a man and woman in front of me and to my side and behind me – Chris is behimd me. Then we go from the marquee into the reception hall and then into what I know is the diningroom except everything has been taken out except the table which has a heavy red cover over it and there are candles everywhere.

And there is Toni thick black hair loose, her lips bright red, her eyes highlighted in purple and black and her robe is scarlet and clingy

I feel Chris behind me unslip the catch on my robe and pulls i off my shoulders to the floor and i am naked and if my nipples got any harder i could stab someone to death with them. Naked in front of Toni and oh yeah all the party guests who have crowded into the dining room.

I’m helped up to lie down face up on the table. And a short sword or long knife take your pick is rested on my body with the hilt between my tits, the crossguard under my tits and the blade pointing down to my cunt. Toni says something in a language i don’t knoe – not latin cos though i never learnt latin I can recognise it. One of the acolytes i suppose u call them gave her a goblet to drink out of and she did and gave it back. Then she put something on my lips an ointment of some sort and it made my lips warm and sensitive, then on my nipples fucking hell that felt so good and then on my clit and my cunt lips – fucking hell i was suddenly warm and i was breathing heavy and shaking a little.

She took the sword/knife off my shaking body and handed it to an acolyte. Then she leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. She was holding my hands at my side so that i couldn’t move. She probably only kissed me for a few seconds but it seemed like forever. Then she stood up and took my nipples between her fingers. Who the fuck was moaning like that – ah, me. Just a gentle tweak and i was shaking and my breathing was coming really fast. Then she touched my clit and stroke my cunt – just one stroke and the orgasm came from nowhere and i was shaking like i was having an epileptic fit and the orgasm cam in wave after wave and three of the acolytes held me down – they were standing on the side where Toni was so the party could still see what was going on - and the orgasm went on and on and on and i was almost – no i really was screaming with pleasure and fucking LUST.

Finally i started to subside. Toni kissed me again and swept out of a door opposite the one we had all come through. The acolytes help me off the table and put another robe round me – not the one from earlier – it was white like the other but almost transparent and didn’t join at the front so my cunt was in full view.

It was gone midnight now and the party carried in til 2. The acolytes had disappeared. Chris told me later that Toni had paired three couples, including him, and they were all sent off to a bedroom each to fuck. There are 8 bedrooms in the house apparently. So I wandered around the party where it seemed everyone had the right to kiss me and touch me though not to do more. Toni had changed into another robe – purple this time and wore a gold circlet on her head – god i am so in love with that woman.

Chris came to take me away eventually. Toni gave me a long lingering kiss as I left.

I can tell you that as soon as we were home i jumped on Chris and fucked and fucked him until we both fell asleep. I dreamed of Toni.   

[jqmalikhsgib]

multiverse

one

note: this idea just came to be at 2:30 am so here i am writing another aaron hotchner fic. wtf am i doing?!?!

derek was the first to notice the girl. she looked no older than sixteen. she had beautiful curly dark hair, she stood about five seven, she was wearing blue jeans and what seems to be some kind of band t-shirt. she looked around confused. derek tapped emily on the shoulder and pointed.

she looked equally confused before the girl noticed and begins to walk towards them.

“excuse me, is there an aaron hotchner here?”

suddenly she had emily, derek’s, jj, and spencer’s attention. “uh—he’s upstairs.” spencer states. she thanked them quickly before walking over to where spencer pointed.

they knew she couldn’t have been a danger considering that she got past security. they still had no idea who she was or what she wanted with their stoic boss. the curious and nosy co workers just stared as she knocks on hotch’ door before opening it.

aaron looks up from his paper work expecting one of the members of his team. instead he was shocked to see a teenage girl. aaron stares at her confused. she immediately picks up a picture of his family.

“excuse me. who are you?”

when she doesn’t answer aaron begins to get a tad bit frustrated. who was the girl and what was she doing in his office? what was she doing in this building? how did she get in? when she begins to open up her backpack he instantly got nervous.

he instantly put his hand on his gun before she pulled out a picture. she hands it to him and he was even more confused.

his heart starts to skip a beat as he looks at a photo of him and the woman he loved years ago. the one he left to be with haley.

aaron thought he was making the right decision at the time. haley was his high school sweetheart. they had decided to split up when they went off to two different colleges. that’s when aaron met her.

she was beautiful. everything about her was perfect. her smile, her laugh, her hair, her beauty. she made aaron feel free. something he had never felt before in his life.

they dated for two beautiful years. but when he visited home, ran into haley, he couldn’t help but feel like she was the one. all those memories they shared. haley was his first love. he had to give her a chance. they decided to do long distance. when aaron went back to university he broke the news to her. she was devastated.

she cursed him out, yelled, screamed, cried, and suddenly she just disappeared. it was a big school but they were both law students. they would always run into each other. he ran into one of her friends and all she told him was she transferred. that was the last time he saw her.

“sixteen years ago you and a woman named yn yln were dating. she ended up leaving the university you attended together because you broke her heart.”

aaron just stares at the girl before she continues. “she was very angry at you for so many reasons. but the main one was because she had huge news to tell you the night she came back. she never got the opportunity to tell you. that woman there was pregnant with your child. i am that child.”

aaron eyes widened. he shakes his head in disbelief before the girl pulls out a photo of the woman in question, pregnant and glowing.

she also pulls out a big orange envelope. aaron looks at her before opening it. sure enough it was proof that aaron hotchner was a match.

“how did you—”

“get your dna sample? ive been kinda following you for a bit. you um—i saw you and your wife and son at an ice cream parlor where you threw away a water bottle. i took it and—well you know.”

aaron clears his throat. “does your mom know you’re here?”

“she doesn’t know ive been looking for you. i just—ive been wanting to know who my dad was for the longest. my mom would tell me she doesn’t know much about him all my life. but knowing who my mom is, i doubt she’d have many partners to the point of not knowing. one night, when she was away, i snooped into her room, found an old shoe box, and saw multiple photos of you and her. i also found an old necklace with the initials ‘ah.’ on them and this photo in particular that has your full name on the back.”

aaron turns the photo over. there it was. ‘aaron hotchner. forevermore.’

“im sorry to be—i guess ruining your life. i know you have a family of your own. your wife is pretty. i just—i had to know who you are. ive been wondering my whole life.”

“no. it’s—it’s okay. listen, why don’t we go out? there is a sandwich shop across the street from here.”

“i probably shouldn’t—”

“you came all the way down here to meet me. judging by the bus pass i saw on the side of your backpack, you probably don’t live anywhere near the city.”

the girl hums. “took me four bus rides just to get here.”

“then it’s the least i could do. i just—i need to make a stop somewhere first. you can wait right here.”

she hums before sitting down in one of his chairs. aaron leaves his office and walks towards penelope’s.

“oh, sir. hi.”

“can you give me a phone number, please?”

“sure. may i ask who for?”

“a yn yln.” he gives her a bit of information on her before penelope begins typing before finding her quickly. aaron thanks her before dialing her number.

“who is this?! please tell me its an update on my daughter?! oh god?”

“ma’am, calm down.”

“no offense officer but please do not tell me to calm down. my child is missing!”

“he’s right you know? you should calm down. it’s not good to stress in these situations.”

aaron heard exactly how he sounded. he regretted saying those words instantly.

“aaron?”

“yeah. i—she’s here. she came down this way to meet me.”

he hears her sigh in relief. “thank god. im—im on my way!”

aaron hears his phone beep. he immediately text her the address on where to meet them before he walks back into his office and spots his teenage daughter. he still couldn’t believe it. he was a dad to a teenager. aaron was just starting to get use to be a dad to a preteen. now he had a teenager on his hands.

he had no idea how to tell jack. he didn’t know what to tell haley. sure they’d been divorce for a long time but, it was still something he had to discuss with her.

and beth. he didn’t want to think about any of that. right now he wanted to take the daughter he hadn’t known about just twenty minutes ago, out to lunch.

“you ready?”

she nods her head as she grabs her backpack. aaron walks right behind her. as they got in the elevator he noticed his team giving him a confused look. he shakes his head to himself before the elevator doors closed.

when they arrived at the sandwich shop and ordered their food, aaron couldn’t help but stare. she looked like a perfect combination of him and yn. she had his brown eyes but yn smile, she had his hair color but it was as curly as her moms, she had his nose but her ears. she was beautiful.

he suddenly realized he didn’t know her name. kicking himself he finally asked.

“it’s jules. juliet technically. or juju. whatever’s fine.”

juliet. that was what he always wanted to name his daughter if he had one. he couldn’t believe yn decided to give her a piece of him. after all he put her through.

“so, aaron. what’s your deal?”

aaron eyes furrowed. “my deal?”

jules nods her head. “yeah. i read that you use to be this badass prosecutors. you made people cry on a daily. suddenly you just decided to change careers. and im assuming the fbi doesn’t pay you half as much as a law firm. why the sudden change of heart?”

he shrugs his shoulders. “just—felt like i could do more. maybe save some lives, you know? always felt like i was too late by the time the cases reached my desk.”

“makes sense. mom feels the same. but she puts her energy and making sure the evil, sadistic, psychopath gets locked away for the rest of their lives.”

he smirks. it sounded exactly like yn. he remembers her being equally as ruthless back in college. before everything changed.

suddenly the father/daughter duo feels a presence. they turn and see yn walking over. jules gets up nervously as her mother hugs her tightly.

when she pulls away she glares at jules. “do not do that again?! i nearly had a heart attack when the principal said you left and never returned.”

“im sorry, mom. i just—i had to meet him.” jules pointed to aaron.

yn looks over and sees the man who her daughter resembled. she never thought she’d see his face again. after leaving she swore she wouldn’t allow this man to hurt her or her child for as long as she lived.

“go wait in the car. we’ll discuss this when we get home.”

jules hesitated before she runs off when her mother gives her the infamous stern look. yn turns to aaron and shakes her head.

“i apologize for her bombarding you. thanks for feeding her lunch.” yn opens her purse and pulls out her wallet. she hands him cash before he shakes his head.

“it’s the least i could do. you don’t owe me a thing. i do however want to talk.”

“what is there to talk about mister hotchner?”

aaron winced. he wasn’t expecting her to address him by his last name. “jules.”

“it’s juliet.”

“right, juliet.”

“we don’t need to do this. we can pretend this never happened and you could go back to whatever it is you do and i can take care of my daughter.”

“yn—”

“we were fine for sixteen years without you. we’ll be fine again. i don’t need nor do i want your help, aaron.” yn glares at him.

aaron was trying to stay calm and be rational. he knew he’d hurt her but this was different. she hid a child from him for sixteen years. that’s sixteen years of not getting to know his daughter. not witnessing her birth, her crying at an ungodly hour, feeding her, her crawling or walking for the first time, her first words, her first tooth, her first christmas. sixteen years of not being there for his child. aaron missed all the major zones in his child’s life. it was taken from him and he felt many emotions. mostly anger.

aaron glares at her. “i don’t think that’s for you to decide anymore. you took away my daughter, yn. you robbed me of a chance in being her father.”

yn laughs comically. “you cheated on me, aaron! you promised me that you were over her. you swore that i was the girl for you before you left and came back to tell me you fucked your ex girlfriend and you wanted to be with her instead. i wanted nothing but to tell you i was pregnant with our child. that opportunity got ripped away from me when i found out i was just some token trophy you bragged about to all your friends!”

aaron frowns at her. he didn’t know what she was getting at but he didn’t want to argue in front of customers at a sandwich shop.

“could we please discuss this somewhere more private?”

yn shakes her head. “i think we’re done here. don’t contact me, please? goodbye aaron.” yn walks away quickly. aaron sets money down on the table before following her outside. she hops in her car quickly before driving off. aaron watches as the woman he never stopped loving disappeared again. this time will a child he finally knew about. his child.

when you get home you immediately tell jules she’s grounded. she shakes her head before storming into her room. you didn’t want to deal with anymore drama tonight.

instead you grabbed a glass, poured you some wine, and plopped down on your couch. you sigh as you think about everything that led you here.

you were still very livid with how things turned out. you were upset that aaron used you. you still felt disgusted today. how could he pretend that he was innocent? you’re adults now. you’re forty-six and you have no time for games.

your main priority was jules. she deserves all the love in the world. you weren’t gonna let her heart be broken like yours was sixteen years ago. jules didn’t deserve that.

you sigh when you suddenly hear her footsteps. you turned to see your daughter looking directly at you.

“just because you don’t like him—for whatever reason—doesn’t mean you have to punish me. i deserve to know who my father is.”

“jules—”

“since i was little you’ve been honest with me, mom. the only time you’ve hidden something from me was with my father. i finally found him and i want to know more about him and where i come from.”

you sigh deeply. you gesture for your daughter to come sit beside you. when she does you wrap your arms around her as she leans into your shoulders.

you’ve always had a great relationship with your daughter. she’d been your rock the moment you gave birth to her. you promised yourself you’d have a better relationship with her than you did with your own mother. you never wanted to disappoint her like your mother disappointed you.

“im sorry ive been hiding your dad from you. it wasn’t—isn’t right that you don’t know your father. i guess i was protecting myself and being totally selfish when it comes to you.”

“why did you hide him for so long?”

you weren’t gonna tell her the story. she didn’t need to know. you simply shake your head and shrugged. “he just—he broke my heart a long time ago and i guess i didn’t want him to do the same to you, baby. im sorry.”

“i want to at least get to know him, mom. he’s my dad.” she whispers.

you kissed the top of her head before nodding. “okay, baby. let me talk to him first. discuss everything and then we can probably meet him, yeah? this time without you stalking him and skipping school.”

jules nods her head. you kissed the top of it once more before she runs upstairs to her room. you sigh as you grab your phone and call aaron.

“hello?”

“we need to talk. meet me at that sandwich shop tomorrow afternoon!”

“yeah. sure.”

“goodbye, aaron.”

“good—”

you ended the call before he could finish. you just wanted to get this over with.

[imaginecolby]

Friends with Benefits || Part Three - The Adjustment

as soon as the words left your mouth, you felt like you wanted to throw up again.

Pregnant. your mind was a blank, almost as if you’d forgotten what the word meant. you had no emerging thoughts about where you were going to go from here.

“pregnant.” colby repeated, barely above a whisper. you watched as he sunk to his knee, taking your hand in his. “y/n, will you-“

“oh, nuh uh.” you interrupted. “you are not proposing to me right now.” you said, pulling him up from the floor.

“why not? we’re going to have a kid!”

“colby, we’re not even officially dating. i don’t expect you to propose to or marry me just because im having your baby.”

“you’re right, sorry. my head is just all over the place.” he sighed, sitting back down on the couch. you watched his face as the gears turned in his head. you were scared he was gonna bolt and leave you to make decisions on your own.

“tell me what you’re thinking.” you said quietly, moving to set next to him.

“a lot of things. scared of how this is gonna change us, worried that im gonna fuck this up. are we ready for this?” he asked.

"i don't know. i mean, ive always wanted kids, but this is not the way i wanted to go about that."

"me either." colby said, taking his hand in yours. "but im glad we're gonna be in this together. we've been in each other's lives for so long, at least we're not toal strangers."

"that's true." you sighed. you both sat there quietly before you spoke again. "so, where does this leave us?"

"we're still us. we're friends before anything, and we're a team in this. i'm gonna be here for you through everything." he said, squeezing your hand.

"thank you." you said softly, leaning into his side and hugging him tight. colby squeezed you tight and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

"we got this." he said softly, giving you another squeeze.

the first trimester was a bit rough, as your routine began to change. your symptoms were already killing you. between the morning sickness, constant pain, and overall nervousness of this life changing event, you were already more tense than you'd ever been in your life.

you were at the doctor's office every week. but you were glad that you weren't doing this alone. colby made it a point to make every appointment with you. he made a promise to you that he was going to be there for you through every part of this pregnancy, and he was keeping good on his word. along with your appointments, he was going shopping with you to get all the necessities for the baby, helping put transform the guest room in your house into the nursery. you and him were researching and learning all the things you could about parenting.

you were still pretty nervous, really more nervous than you could ever explain. this feeling was probably going to last your entire pregnancy, but you were so glad that colby was doing this with you. you felt like you could accomplish anything with him by your side. but you couldn't help but worry that all you were ever going to be was co-parents, and nothing more. you knew you and colby had sort of an "agreement" about your relationship, but you were feeling like you wanted to be more. you were just too scared to bring it up to him, in case that was going to be too much to add to his plate. especially right now.

one afternoon, you'd just gotten home from a busy morning of some shopping and a quick trip to the drugstore for some more prenatal vitamins. you were resting on the couch, your hand falling into place on your belly. you still couldnt believe you were growing a human in there. as you sat there with your thoughts, pictures of your future child began to flash through your head. a baby boy with dark hair and blue eyes like colby, or a baby girl with soft hair and skin tone that beared a strinking resemblance to yours. you truly were so excited for this next part of your life, and you couldn't wait to raise your baby.

your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing on the coffee table. you picked it up and saw a text from colby.

"are you home? i have something for you." he text you.

"yeah, i just got back. :)" you replied.

"perfect, see you in ten."

while you waited for colby to come over, you put up your purchases and changed into some more comfortable clothes. you were walking back into the living room just as you heard a knock on your door.

"hey!" colby said with a smile when you answered. he pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"whatcha got?" you asked, pointing to the numerous bags in his hands.

"oh, i know better than to you come over without food." he laughed, handing you the food bags. "now, i don't know how your appetite has changed since getting pregnant, but i hope you still like, and can actually eat, chinese."

"oh yes, i will never turn away chinese." you said, taking the food from him. you got plates for the two of you and moved to the living room. you and colby sat down on the couch and set the food up on the coffee table.

"and what's this?" you asked, pointing to the gift bag he had.

"daddy's first gift for the baby." he said, his face lighting up as he started to open it. he pulled out a ball of fabric, unrolling it to reveal a onesie with a familiar logo on the front.

"oh my god! this is so cute!" you cheered, taking it from him.

"baby's first piece of xplr clothing."

"colby, this is adorable. this'll be their coming home outfit after they're born." you laughed.

"perfect, that was my intention." he laughed. the two of you sat down to eat, and conversation quickly ensued. after a while, you decided to take a more serious turn.

"so, my first trimester is up. i think it's time we start telling people." you said.

"yeah, i've been thinking about that these past couple days. but, i think we need to talk about our relationship first."

"oh?" you asked, sitting up and focusing entirely on him.

"i think we should be exclusive. y'know, boyfriend and girlfriend." he said, taking your hand in his.

"what? are you serious?"

"well, you wont let me propose, so," he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. "y/n, i love you. i know i told you at the beginning of all of this, that i wasn't looking for a relationship. but i love you. i've loved you since the day i met you, but i was too scared to commit to relationship because i was at a place where a lot of girls were using me."

"you know i'd never do that to you." you said softly, rubbing your thumb across the back of his hand.

"i know, and i feel bad for ever thinking that of you. but i'm over that now. i want to be with you. fully and completely. we're gonna be starting a family, and i want us to be as commited to each other as we'll be to the baby. you don't have to say anything now, but i just wanted to put my feelings on the table, and be completely honest with you."

"i'm actually glad you said something because i've been thinking about us as well. you know ive always liked you, as more than a friend. and i've wanted to be exclusive with you. i didn't really want to be part of this "friends with benefits" type thing we've had going on in the first place, but i just wanted to be with you, in any way, so i agreed to it, thinking your feelings would eventually change. i definitely didn't think this was going to be the thing that would change your mind about us, but im glad it did. i love you too, and i wanna be with you. officially, and fully."

"officially and fully." colby repeated, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips.

"im glad we've figured this out. once we start telling people we can avoid the whole ‘yeah! we're having a baby without even being together!’ conversation."

"oh, i know. i wasn't looking forward to that either." he laughed. "speaking of, how are we gonna do our announcement?"

"i don't know. i've been trying to figure something out, but all the ones ive gone through online don't seem fitting for us." you sighed.

you sat there quietly for a moment, the both of you racking your brain for ideas. suddenly, a light bulb went off in your head.

"oh my god, yes!" you sat up, an idea running in your mind.

"what? what did you think of?" colby asked. you sat there without saying anything, picking up the onsie.

"a little explorer!"

[kawaiibarty]

UMMM if this is not an intrusive question, could you pls explain the process of you transitioning? Like whatever made you feel you were with the wrong body? And how did it bother you sm? This is plain curiosity. If u wish pls help me understand.

ahhhh hi hi it's not intrusive at all!

so for me it was really something that took time for me to understand because i didn't know that people were allowed to feel different yk

when i was a child i wore boys clothes because it made me feel happy, during playtime i called dibs on the boy characters, my avatars in video games were exclusively male.

i felt really uncomfortable wearing certain things like skirts and certain shirts and even different types of shoes. my mom said i was really picky and difficult about it lol.

for a while i sort of started wearing skirts and stuff, around 11 to 13 yrs old but, idk it was an odd period for me. i just wanted to be someone my mother liked yk. anyway, for most of my schooling id been in an all girls school up until gr7 when i moved cross country and schools. this new school was co-ed and it was really weird because i felt excluded a lot of the time because i wasn't...yk i didn't act like most of the girls and the people i thought id fit in with didn't like the way i did things LOL. i just felt alienated and like an imposter because i wasn't doing....girl right? iykwim

then i went to highschool a year later and i was shoved back into an all girls class for two years where i realised i properly like girls, except i thought i was homophobic because i didn't like the lesbian label or the bisexual label even though id tried out both at some point. it was like, i know i like girls and i haven't liked a guy properly but that doesn't make me lesbian because...but what if it does because im a girl, right? (spoiler alert, i do like guys and i realised that i could use the label queer without it being a slur also cue asexuality)

anyway, i was introduced to non-binary and it was a reaaaal relief. im telling you, once i was seen as something that wasn't an uncomfortable little girl it was good. but it still didn't feel right so i toyed around with androgyny except i didn't like how uncertain it made me feel yk?

im not saying that people who are enby or androgynous are wholly uncertain but i didn't want to feel like a poseur because i KNEW what i wanted but i didn't know if it was real.

i dont remember when this happened but somebody introduced me to he/they and they/he pronouns and i grasped onto that and it was okay for a while. still didn't feel like i was going it right because i had long hair and wore skirts and was still called a girl or non-binary and i hated my name and everything about the uncertainty yk? like it just came back out of nowhere

then one day this little boy comes up to me, i kid you not it's a CORE MEMORY for me, but this kid approaches me and he's like "are you a boy or a girl" and i start panicking because im not a girl and i hate being a girl and im not a boy because...i mean i don't even look like one right? so i ask him "what do you think i am?" and he says, without even thinking about "you look like a boy. i think you're a boy." and

yk, ive never smiled so wide in my life. i told him "yeah you're right" and he FISTBUMPS ME and im all giddy and excited and i text my best friend @d-rxse and im like OMGOMG YOULL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED DUDE anyway that was three years ago

then i got moved to a co-ed class

it kind of went to shit after that because as soon as i came out as trans i got a new boyfriend and he had never dated a trans person before so for a while he used he/they pronouns for me and we called each other boyfriends up until maybe april of last year where he told me he was uncomfortable with it

so i was an idiot and threw away all my progress and said "you can call me your gf and use they/them pronouns and she/her in front of your friends" and yeah 👍🏼 progress gone. down the drain.

i fixed it tho, by the end of last year i was so done with his bullshit, i broke up with him a week after school started this year, cut my hair short, changed my name, pronouns and got a new phone. cut him out of my life completely. ive never been happier

[phykios]

If I Were A Blackbird, part 16 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Did you make it back okay? You didn’t text 🙁

[read, 10:47am]

????

Sorry got back kind of late Got lost in exarchia lol

Isn’t exarchia dangerous? Are you ok? 

Nah it was np Ive seen worse at santa con

Ok

Everything good with you?

?

Whatever hans needed you for last night

Oh yeah it was fine Turned out to be a nothingburger Im sorry i ruined our date

Its fine

…

…

Hey i just checked with my car service and they said you didn’t call them last night? 

Yeah i just caught a taxi Only out a few euro

…

…

When are you free next week? I wanna make it up to you 

Its rly fine

Ok well i want to see you Before coach peterson traps you in the boathouse and wont let you leave

Lol What are you doing thursday? 

Breakfast with the finns then 10 hours of teams meetings Does saturday work?

Practice

🙁 

What abt sunday morning? We’d have to be done by 2

I can do sunday!! How do you feel about dawn? 

—

A risky proposition–for her, not for him. Percy had no trouble waking up early, while Annabeth more than lived up to her night owl reputation. 

But she had to make it up to him. She had to give him something spectacular. 

Percy had clearly been so hurt the other night when she’d made him leave. And he had every right to be. She wanted him to be her partner, in all things. Even though that didn’t mean he could join her in fighting a dracena or a draugr or some other dangerous creature, it did mean he should be able to know about what was going on. Know about every aspect of her life. And even though the other night had not ended up being such a big issue, there had been dozens of monster fights over the last four years where all she wanted when it was over was to curl up with Percy and tell him what was really going on. Seek his comfort and support. 

Percy Jackson was a world class cuddler. They should give him a gold medal for that. 

She had known for a long time she needed to come clean. She needed to tell him everything. But this moment was really the line. It was creating divisions she didn’t like, that he didn’t deserve. And she wanted to share everything with him. Seek his advice and comfort and love as she navigated the challenges of being a demigod. 

So, she had to stop pushing him away. It wasn’t fair. Percy had supported her 100% in all things since they first got together–the hecticness of royal life, her own demigod and ADHD flightiness, even her Harvard family pride. 

He deserved better. 

It steeled her resolve.

She had planned the event to a T, stocked up on Greek coffee, and called in an enormous favor with the Ministry of Culture to organize a private tour of the Parthenon for the two of them, just after dawn. The sacred hill, usually overrun with tourists, would be, for once, deserted, and they would have the place wholly to themselves. They’d get to walk the ruins together, alone, get to look out at the sun rising over the sea he sailed on, and then she would take his hand, and she would finally tell him everything. Let him into the most secret parts of her life. 

The only hard bit had been figuring out what to wear. She wasn’t sure if she’d brought anything for this trip that wasn’t blue. She’d packed one bag, and Helen had packed the big one for her, but she’d acquired so much blue over the last four years that most of her closet had ended up blue, too. But she wasn’t about to go on possibly the most important date of her life without having an outfit ready to go by morning. 

Blue was the obvious choice, but was also possibly jinxed–she couldn’t remember the last time she had worn blue on a date with Percy without being attacked by a monster. White, again, had a ton of bridal baggage, and she didn’t want to pressure him into doing anything, not when she was about to drop a mythological bomb on him.

So. What to wear. 

She had spent probably upwards of an hour, wrapped in her bathrobe and conditioning her hair, as she sat cross legged on the bed, agonizing over the final three options: an orange romper with a gold belt and stilettos, the two-piece lemon-printed outfit from a D&G collection a few years back with flats, or the purple sundress with raw edges and a pair of white sneakers. 

When she laid it all out, it was kind of obvious. Her mother’s temple, where millions of tourists walked each year, was not really known for its crisp, even walkways. Or its non-slippery marble.

The dress, she decided. Not just for the shoes, but for the color, a surprisingly intense hue for such a casual fabric. Deep and dark, like wine spilled over the ocean. Very Homeric. Hopefully he’d like it.

She bounced her sneakers against the interior car door, probably scuffing the leather and pissing Hans off to no end, as she waited for Percy to come out of the Village. That was the problem with white. Easy to ruin. She chanced another look out the window, and sat up at the hooded figure who came out, and made a beeline straight for the car. Without hesitation, he slid in beside her, taking down his jacket hood, revealing wet hair and tired eyes that still lit up at the sight of her. “Morning,” he said, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek. “Morning, Hans.” 

“Sir.” 

“Hey,” she said. “You sleep okay?” 

“Slept alright, yeah.” 

Annabeth frowned. “You look tired.” 

“Yeah, well,” Percy shrugged. “Got a lot on my mind.” He continued before Annabeth could say anything. “I was hoping practice would tire me out, but… Probably going to need a nap after this.” 

“My hotel bed misses you,” she told him, and then only cringed a little bit as the full dorkiness of the words came to her. “You could always come back with me. You know. If you wanted.” 

He paused, then twisted his mouth in that way she knew meant he was trying not to laugh. “Maybe. But I don’t know if I’ll make it through this car ride.” 

Well, she could help with that. “Way ahead of you there,” she said, reaching for the drink caddies. “Coffee?” 

Successfully caffeinated, they enjoyed an easy, peaceful drive to the west entrance of the site. At this hour, the roads were largely clear, devoid of most traffic beyond a handful of delivery guys on bikes, or the odd clump of construction workers taking advantage of the time. It was still dark enough that the street lights were still on, the car passing beneath beautiful arches of string lights in the colors of the Olympic Rings as they rounded the corner of the National Gardens. In the distance, just barely over the tips of the buildings, she could see glimpses of the Acropolis, its columns lit up with yellow floodlights, like artificial fire. 

Percy huffed a laugh as they passed the Arch of Hadrian and the Temple of Olympian Zeus, resting his head against the window. 

“What is it?” 

He shot her a sideways glance. “It’s nothing. Just, ah… it’s nothing.” 

She frowned at the deflection. But instead of dwelling on it too much, she took his hand. “I’m really glad you came this morning,” she said, quietly. 

Smiling, he squeezed her hand in return. “Hey, me, too. I’m always happy to see you.” 

“And I’m sorry about the other night.” 

“Seriously, you don’t–” 

“I do,” she interrupted, lacing their fingers together. “You’ve put up with so much crap from me and my family and my country these last four years, and I haven’t…” She trailed off, the words drying up in her mouth. 

Percy shifted, turning towards her. “Haven’t what?” 

Been honest? Told him everything? Gods, what did she even say to that? Every other person she had ever been close to had already known the great secret. Annabeth couldn’t even remember if she had ever been told explicitly the truth of her birth and her heritage. It was just something she’d always known. Something she’d never had to question. Annabeth was a princess, her mother was a goddess, and her family was descended from another pantheon. These were the facts of her life. How was she supposed to tell him the truth? 

How do you turn someone’s life upside down like this without driving them away?

For lack of anything to say, she squeezed his hand again, and brought it to her mouth. “I have something I need to tell you,” she mumbled into his fingers. 

He only nodded, face solemn in a way it rarely was. “Me, too.” 

She sat up, a new wave of anxiety breaking over her. “What is it?” 

Taking in a deep breath, he moved his hand to her face, brushing his thumb against her cheekbone. She leaned into it, drank in the gentleness of his fingers, the quiet, deliberate touch of skin, and her heart couldn’t help but throb. “Annabeth,” he said, gathering his courage. “I… There’s…” 

“Excuse me.” 

They both jumped. Hans had rolled the car into park so smoothly, she hadn’t even noticed. 

“Apologies, highness,” he said, not at all meaning it, “but we’ve arrived.” 

And not a moment too soon. The sky above was just beginning to lighten, the shades of midnight just barely beginning to give way to gray and purple. 

Hand in hand, they strode up the wide, cobbled pathway, their steps illuminated by the floodlights. If she ignored the hum of electricity, the distant sound of car horns, or the lack of stars above them, she could almost imagine that she and Percy were in ancient Athens, making a pilgrimage in the middle of the night to the sacred temple. Perhaps she would have been a priestess, and he a guard of the city, and they were coming in secret to make a supplication to the goddess, asking Athena to release her daughter from her vows so that they could marry without incurring her wrath. 

The thought made her giddy, and she squeezed his hand, a new skip in her step. 

“You’re chipper this morning,” he observed. 

“Just happy to be with you.”

He smiled thinly, and didn’t say anything in response. 

But she didn’t care. Her whole life was about to change–for the better. She didn’t have a care in the world. 

The security guard, nursing a coffee of her own, let them in without a word. Hans trailed behind them, far enough away that they could speak privately, but close enough in case Annabeth needed some magical backup. She was lucky, she supposed. Her country’s affection for her family was high enough that mortal threats weren’t really a concern. But when they reached the base of the ramp which led to the Propylaia, Hans stopped in his tracks, waving her on. Trusting her alone with Percy. 

She nodded at him, grateful. He turned away, pulling out a cigarette. 

In silence, they continued on to the top of the hill, and Annabeth had never been more grateful for the choice to wear sneakers, giving her steady footing on the worn marble. Percy, however, wasn’t so lucky, one false step causing him to slip, teetering towards the edge of the switchbacked path. 

“Whoa!” 

Annabeth snatched him up around the waist, pulling him back towards a marble bench. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” he breathed, shaky. “I’m fine.” He looked up at her, sheepish. “Thanks.” 

“No problem.” 

“This damn hill,” he grumbled. “I’ve been to the Acropolis, like, four times this summer, and I’ve tripped over something every single time.” 

“Well, just be careful,” she said. “If you roll your ankle, I have to carry you out of here myself.” 

“Not Hans?” he teased.

She shrugged. “I can handle it.” 

“I’m sure you could.” A beat, and then he embraced her, so suddenly it almost knocked the wind out of her. He held her close, close enough that she could feel his ragged heartbeat, adrenaline sending it racing, and she shut her eyes, breathing in the ever-present sea salt smell of him. “I love you,” he murmured into her hair. “I love you so much.” 

When he pulled back, she was shocked to see his eyes were red. “Percy?” 

“I’m fine,” he said thickly, wiping his eyes. “Come on. Daylight’s wasting.” 

Pink had begun to bleed into the sky, coloring the haze of the far off mountains, creeping ever closer to sunrise. 

They made it through the gate without further incident, and even though Annabeth had seen the Parthenon hundreds of times, in person and online and in dreams, it still stopped her in her tracks. It was a magnificent building, of course, even with the scaffolding holding it together, and she couldn’t help but mentally run through the facts for the millionth time. Pentelic marble, peripteral Doric, perfect proportions. Fluted columns, ionic capitals, no base. Eight by seventeen, slight tapering to account for human perception. Once upon a time, it had been covered in color, a bright, shining beacon of civilization, a living record of war and conquest. The Giants, the Amazons, the Lapiths and the Centaurs, the sack of Troy and the victory over the Persians–the Parthenon was a monument to it all, and to the goddess who presided over them. 

Now if only the British Museum would give back the damn statues.

“Let me guess,” Percy said. “You’re imagining what it would look like with all the marbles restored.” 

She smiled, sheepishly. “You caught me. I have another meeting with the Prime Minister next month.”

“Fifth time’s the charm?” 

“Here’s hoping.” 

“You know, you’ve corrupted me,” he said. “Before I met you, a temple was just a temple. Now every time I see a Greek temple, I have to count the number of columns. The long side is always twice the number of the short side, plus one. I never noticed that before. Not until you showed me.” 

“Sorry.” 

He shook his head. “What for? I never said it was a bad thing. Here.” He took both of her hands, and led her over to the Erechtheion, picking his way around the stones which jutted up from the grass. The pink sky was beginning to blossom into a fiery orange, streaked through with yellow, heralding the sun. “Like with the Erechtheion,” he said. “There’s so much I never noticed about this place before you–the irregular construction, the decorative elements, the whole…” he waved a hand at the stone, but never took his eyes off her. “All of it. Before you, it was just another old building.” 

“A fucked-up old building?” she recalled, remembering a warm spring night on the Aegean, tangled up with her lover on a boat and under the stars. 

He grinned, hopefully recalling the same. “The building of the mighty Poseidon,” he corrected. “I don’t think he’d be too happy to hear you call it that.” 

She didn’t think he’d be too happy with her in general, given the whole rivalry thing, but whatever. “Meh,” she echoed. “I’m dating his favorite sailor. I think I’ll be okay.” 

In the fading dark of sunrise, Annabeth saw his face fall. The gray shadow of the temple made him look ashen, pale. Afraid. 

“What is it?” 

He glanced at the temple, shoulders tight. “It’s cold,” he said, finally. “Come on. Let’s sit in the sun.” 

The sun was just about to break over the horizon, but she wouldn’t push it. 

Percy led her out of the shadow of the Erechtheion, towards the very eastern edge of the site. There, where there had once been a circular watchtower, now flew the flag of Greece, hanging limp in the stillness of dawn. She sat on the wall-bench of the observation point, back against the lip of the retaining wall, and tipped her head back. It was quiet. Seagulls cried in the very far distance. At some point, the floodlights had switched off automatically, leaving them suspended in time, colorless, hovering between tonight and tomorrow, between her past and their future.

But her future didn’t join her on the bench. He just stood there. Looking at her. 

“Percy? What’s wrong?”

She could see his chest moving as he breathed, deep and measured. His mouth hung open, and she could almost see the wheels in his brain turning as he searched for what to say. 

And then, warmth.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the sun had just breached the mountains, the yellow glare shielded by the looming shadow of Mt. Lycabettus, the tallest point of the city.

When she looked back, Percy had dropped to one knee. 

She felt her breath catch. Felt the tears preemptively pool in her eyes. She was a princess. She was a demigoddess, a hero, a feminist, a–a shieldmaiden! She was not supposed to be the kind of woman for whom her engagement was the pinnacle of her entire life. But it was Percy, on his knee before, looking up at her with those green eyes. Looking like he belonged here, between the Athena and Poseidon shrines. She felt like she was in some sort of movie. Every perfect thing coming down to this moment. 

“I was really glad you wanted us to come here,” Percy said, “I… this seemed a fitting place for me to tell you. To say maybe the most important thing I’ve ever said before.”

“A question?” She asked, even though she probably shouldn’t have.

He smiled, lopsided and trouble-making and so, so beautiful. “Could be,” he said, and her heart nearly skipped right out of her chest. “But first…” he looked around, wary, like he was expecting something to jump out. 

Or someone.

“This is the place,” he said, after a moment of silence. His eyes were stormy–thrilling… and scary. “This is the place where Poseidon lost the contest of Athens to Athena.”

Despite herself, she felt her smile drop. It was a story she knew well, had grown up with it and been weaned on it, curled up in her father’s embrace as a little girl as he read to her from the big yellow book of Greek myths every night before she went to bed–but she didn’t know why it suddenly made the bottom of her stomach fall out. 

And then, he said, “This is the spot where… where my father lost to Athena.”

His… “Your father?” The words sounded like they came from very far away. Her face felt numb. 

“My father,” he repeated. “Poseidon. God of the sea.” 

She must be confused, she must not be understanding. An unusual place for her to be, but not impossible. Annabeth was used to being the smartest person in any and all rooms she was in. And so it only took her a few seconds to really, properly process what she was being told. To take that information in and put it up against so much else she’d seen but not really noticed over the past four years. 

“That explains so much,” she said. Her mind quickly flicked through the many details and strange little facts she’d collected, but never been able to fit together. 

At least her brain was moving too fast for her to stop for a second and feel. 

His eyebrows pulled together, that little pinch she always thought was adorable. “It does?”

She nodded, and didn’t meet his eyes. “There was a sea monster, wasn’t there? In Mérida, at the last Olympics. That’s why you lost your lead.” 

He froze, down on one knee. “...Yeah. There was.”

“And that day, when we went out on the boat, you got my hat back, and dried it with water magic,” she continued. “Hans’ team spent a truly insane number of manhours trying to track down your father. But they never could. It was like he didn’t exist.” 

“...What are you saying?” 

“I don’t think anyone ever guessed you were a demigod,” she said. “Which was probably silly. Hans should have known better. And Dad.”

He stared at her, mouth open and gaping like a– “Annabeth?”

The tears finally spilled from her eyes. “Percy,” she said, not sure if she was crying from joy or sorrow. “My mother is Athena.” 

***

Percy’s whole body went cold. The ring box was heavy in his jacket pocket, weighing him down like an albatross. “Athena?” 

She nodded, hanging her head. “Yes. I’m a demigod, too.” 

And suddenly, every little thing that had ever felt out of place snapped into a neat, logical, devastating line. 

Her proficiency with weapons–not just the hobby of some rich girl, but an innate skill. Jokes from her whole family about following the “old ways” that always seemed to hedge a little too close to seriousness. A gaping black hole where her mother should be. 

Just like him. 

How hadn’t he seen it sooner?

Stunned, the next few words just slipped out. “I didn’t know Athena could have children.” 

She snapped her red-rimmed eyes to him. “Are you calling me a liar?” 

“What? No! I just–isn’t she a virgin goddess? How would that even, uh… work?” 

“You’re a classics major,” she said, crossing her arms, hunching in on herself. He could practically see sparks of irritation flying off of her, filling the space she left empty. “I assume you’re familiar with the birth of Athena?”

“Sure,” he hedged, feeling suddenly unmoored. “She was born from Zeus’ head.”

Annabeth looked at him, pointedly. 

So… she was born the same way? “But,” he stammered, his thoughts scattered across the sacred rock, “but… you have a belly button.” 

Pretty much immediately, Percy knew that was the wrong thing to say. 

“Yeah,” she said, stony. “What, were you expecting me to be some kind of freak?” 

Okay. He was now and truly lost. “That’s not–” 

She crossed her legs, cutting him off. “Well, I’m not. I have all my extremities. Just like you.” 

“I… didn’t think you didn’t.” Because why would he? He had seen them all for himself. He had, ahem, explored all the nooks and crannies of her body, many times, had touched and kissed every extremity, every inch of skin… every inch of scar. 

He had seen her scars. Had traced the lines of them, up and down. He hadn’t commented on them, because why would he? His own body was riddled with the same scars. Claw marks and magic burns and the odd sword swipe. They were normal for him. 

They were normal for her, too. 

Because they were the same. 

So why did the thought suddenly fill him with dread? 

“When,” he started, mouth dry, “when did you know?” 

“My whole life. You?” 

“I was six. Luke told me.” It had been a weird day, but one he could look back on fondly. But right now, he could barely remember it. All he could cling to was the one shining, defining difference between them–she had known about her parentage her whole life, and he had only been told about his later. 

And then, he huffed a laugh, surprising himself. 

She frowned. “What?” 

He shook his head. “Nothing. Just figures, is all.” 

“What figures?” 

“Figures that I had to have it spelled out for me while you had it handed to you on a silver platter.”

She rounded her jaw, eyes glistening in the morning light. 

Fuck. This was not how he wanted this to go. “I–” 

“Figures for you as well,” she cut in, avoiding his gaze. “Swimming, sailing, water polo–it all comes from your father.” 

Anger, hot and spiky, lanced through him out of nowhere. “Are you saying I’m only good at what I do because of my dad?” 

She snapped her eyes to him, taken aback by his tone. “No! Of course not!” 

“Because if I wanted to coast on my genetics, I would have just gone with swimming,” he growled, surprising himself with his own vitriol. “Sailing is hard work. Keeping track of the winds, the waves, the sail, the physics–it’s hard work. And I picked it because I knew it would be hard work. Because I’ve had to work my entire life. Not that you would know anything–” 

He cut himself off, standing, before he said something he really regretted. 

Except the damage was already done.

Her hands tightened where they clutched her arms, the tips of her fingers digging into her skin. “I see,” she said, quietly. “So that’s what you really think of me.”

“No, it’s–” He sighed, hanging his head. Breathing in through his nose, he held his breath and counted to ten, before his anger got the best of him again. 

When he looked back up, Annabeth’s eyes were fixed on the ground, her shoulders just barely trembling. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was out of line. And it’s not true.” When she didn’t answer, he sat down next to her, gratified that she didn’t at least move away from him. “I’m really sorry.” 

Stiffly, she nodded.

“It’s just… I’m sick and tired of being out of the loop. You don’t tell me you’re a princess, you make me leave for meetings–”

“That’s a national security thing–” 

“Everything about you is a national security thing!” He burst out, losing his grip. “Everything you are is some kind of secret that I don’t get to know about, even after we’ve been dating for four years!” 

“I’ve told you plenty,” she said, eyes welling up again. “I’ve told you about my dad, and my insecurities, and all my fears about me and my country–” 

“But nothing about you being a demigod!”

Her face went red. “What the hell was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, stranger, not only is my dad a king, my mom is a Greek goddess, wanna fuck?’”

“No, I just–” 

“You said I was entitled to my secrets,” she stood, pointing at him accusingly. “Just like you were entitled to yours. That was your promise.” 

“Yeah, at the beginning of our relationship, not four years in when I’m about to propose to you!”

She froze, as still and imposing as marble. Percy’s heart had crawled up his throat, threatening to choke him, and in that moment, he was overcome with the sudden need to assert himself. To let her know how she had hurt him. To speak a truth that was even more painful. 

“It’s like–it’s like I don’t even know you.” 

In one swift instant, her tears dried up, evaporating in the heat of her anger. She glared down at him, imposing and impossible, her gray eyes cold and sure and beautiful, it took his breath away.

Of course she was beautiful. Her mother–Athena–had been in Paris’s contest, after all. If Lady Athena had even half of her daughter’s beauty, it was a fucking miracle that she had lost, Helen or no Helen. 

Annabeth whipped around, her blonde curls flying in the sudden wind, making her way back towards the Propylaea. 

But she turned back to look at him, once, at the far edge of the Erechtheion, her mother’s temple to her right, and his father’s to her left. The clear concrete pathway between them felt as wide as an ocean, and just as insurmountable.

Percy felt like the Athenians, thousands of years ago, worshiping their patroness. Worshipful and fearful and in love in equal measures. 

Percy felt like his father, so thoroughly cowed, so beaten. Forever changed, forever brought down by this great and powerful woman. Brought low before her like so many men had been for millennia. 

How did you ever get over someone like her? 

He thought back to his father. And to King Frederick and a handful of awkward dinners with Princess Consort Mary. 

On both counts, Percy was pretty sure, you never did. 

He sat there where their parents' rivalry began–and was still going strong, even after all this time –for a long time, as the sun slowly crept up the sky, until the security guard from earlier came to get him. “Excuse me,” she said, not unkindly. Which was unexpected. In his experience, security guards, Greek or Swedish or otherwise, didn’t take too kindly to him. Maybe they knew something he didn’t. “We’re opening to the public soon.

Percy nodded and stood up. “Sorry.”

“Your friend left thirty minutes ago,” she said, not responding. And then, curiosity must have gotten the better of her. “So… what happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Percy said, and he wasn’t. He really really wasn’t sure. The walk back down the hill didn’t clarify things, either. 

A drink might. Or maybe a nap. Maybe he could go back to the Village, grab Jason and Frank and take them out for some midday drinks in Exarchia, take the edge off with some bro-time. 

Halfway down to the city, he stopped to lean against a green metal grate. Just on the other side was a sign, in English and Greek, pointing the way to the Pnyx, the favored soapbox of great thinkers like Socrates. 

He sighed, heavily. 

Gods, he was so fucking sick and tired of classics. 

They’d given him more than enough problems. And he wasn’t going to let classics ruin his life. Not over this. 

In that moment, he made a decision. He wouldn’t go back to the Village and drown his sorrows.

Instead, he called in the cavalry, and asked them to meet him at the Tiki Bar around the corner of the Acropolis Museum. Because he was fucking sick and tired of classics. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be having celebratory engagement sex right now?” Was Luke’s first question as he walked up to the bar where Percy had parked himself, a very bleary Nico and Hazel in tow. Honestly, Percy was surprised he had gotten the younger ones to even show up. The children of the Underworld fully lived up to their reputation as night people, and here they were, deigning to show their faces just after 8 AM.

Luke took one look at Percy’s face, and his own fell, instantly. “Kid? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Percy said, and it was true. He didn’t know what was wrong. And then he said, “Annabeth is a demigod.” That was true, but it wasn’t what was wrong. Why was that bad? It shouldn’t be bad. 

As one, all three of their jaws dropped, eyes going wide. “What?” That was Hazel, now fully awake. “She’s a demigod?” 

“That explains a lot,” said Nico, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “She had a real power vibe, but I thought maybe it was the monarch thing.” 

Percy didn’t want to even try and dissect what that meant.

“She’s a daughter of Athena,” Percy said, but for the first time in about an hour, it didn’t feel like a terrible, horrible thing. In fact, it was almost a neutral observation. Possibly even edging towards something exciting. 

Because Annabeth was a demigod–just like him. Another member of his extended family.  

Hazel gasped. “But Minerva’s a virgin goddess,” she exclaimed, aghast at the very idea. “She’s not supposed to have children!” 

“Annabeth kind of explained it,” Percy said, frowning at the memory. Brain children. It was still kind of a tough idea to wrap his head around. Even though she did have a belly button. “She’s born from Athena like Athena was born from Zeus. I think. I wasn’t paying great attention.” 

“Seems like it should have been important–” But Nico’s snark was cut off by Luke cuffing his head.

“Percy,” Luke said, blue eyes staring at him. “What happened?”

“We had a fight,” he admitted, face flushing from shame. “I'm not even sure… I was just so surprised and kind of overwhelmed by the idea. and I think I kind of freaked out.” Understatement of the century. But then again… maybe she did, too. “I called her privileged and then she stormed off, and…”

“Did you two break up?”

He jolted, like he had been struck by lightning. Or perhaps a spear. Before that moment, the thought had never occurred to him. Athena or not, secrets or not, divine intervention, ancient rivalries, four years of lies or not, he didn't want to break up. Not ever. She was the love of his life. 

“No,” he shook his head emphatically. “We didn't break up.” They had fought, sure, but there had been no resolution. And until she told him otherwise to his face, they were still together. 

Hopefully forever.

“Do you want to break up?”

“Never.” He wanted to tell her Paris was a fool for not choosing her mother if Athena was half as beautiful as she was. He wanted to promise to fell sea monsters and the Minotaur itself for her sake. He wanted to return to the Garden at the very edge of the day, and bring her a golden apple taken from beneath the sleeping dragon’s nose. He wanted to sit in her little apartment in the palace in Stockholm and rub her feet and tell her all about his adventures and ask her about hers, and talk about where Norse monsters ranked on the scale of divine irritation.

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Sometimes Nico's bluntness was too much for him, but right now he appreciated the direction.

“I don't know. I was hoping you guys might have some ideas.” 

The cousins glanced between each other, all equally lost. “Flowers?” Hazel suggested, hopping up onto the stool next to him. “Maybe a gift?” 

“Maybe.” A gift wasn’t a bad idea. But it would have to be a hell of a gift. 

Still, something on Hazel’s face troubled him. 

It must have troubled her brother, too, because he placed a hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?” 

A knife slowly scraped across the wooden bar, inching its way towards her. “It’s just,” she said, biting her lip, “if she really is the daughter of Min–Athena, then…” 

Nico dragged a stool so he could sit next to her, bumping their shoulders together. Luke, taller than all of them, stood behind her, the three of them leaning in close to listen.

“There’s this story I heard from a friend once, about Minerva.” she mumbled. “When the Romans conquered Athens, they stole something from the city. Something that belonged to her. Supposedly, that’s why Athena and Minerva are so different, personality-wise.” 

Percy nodded, following along. Mostly. The different aspects thing still hurt his head sometimes. Hazel and Nico had tried to explain it to them numerous times, but Percy just couldn’t seem to get it. “What was stolen?”

“No one knows,” she said. The knife started making circles on the bar. “Minerva’s descendents have been looking for it ever since. But no one’s ever found it.” She glanced at her brother. “Remember what Ella said?” 

“Ella?” Luke asked.

“Tyson’s girlfriend–the harpy.” Nico twirled his skull ring around his finger. “She memorized the Sibylline Oracles. Whenever she’s stressed, she likes to spout random lines of prophecy, and the last time we saw her, she told us one. She said, ‘Wisdom’s daughter walks alone.’”

Percy stared. “Wisdom’s daughter walks alone?” 

“Yeah.” Nico shivered. “I don’t know what it means.” 

“I do. Luke, your mom, when we introduced her to Annabeth–” 

Luke gaped. “My mom? That was, what, two years ago? How–” 

“You know she has the power of prophecy,” Percy said. “And she gave one to Annabeth that day.” His mind raced, bits and pieces slotting together like a puzzle he just figured out he was doing. “Luke, do you still have that disk we found?” 

He frowned in confusion. “Yeah?” 

“Do you have it on you?” 

“No, it’s back in my…” he trailed off, his hand automatically going to his pocket. Luke was as shocked as anyone when he pulled it out. 

“I thought you left it in your safe,” Hazel said.

“I thought I did, too.” 

Percy held out his hand, and thought of his latest adventure. The dice game, the cistern, the disk with the owl on it. The owl he knew from Annabeth's tattoo. “I don't know why I didn't see it before,” he said, taking the disk from his cousin, “but that's an owl. Athena's owl. It looks just like the drachma tattoo she has on her foot.” He thought about his own tattoos, blue lines forming the shape of waves and tridents. Thought about phykios, and codename Septentrion, and the million little hints in both directions. 

“You think this belongs to Athena?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, “and she wanted us to find it. She wanted me to find it.” He couldn't help but smile, even if it wasn't really the time for laughing matters.

“Not sure what good that's going to do with you and the daughter of Minerva breaking up,” Hazel muttered, uncharacteristically harsh. 

He didn’t know what would happen. But he knew what he wanted. And what the first step to getting it might look like. “Athena led me to the disk so I could give it to Annabeth. I owe her that much at least.”

“You think you owe Minerva?”

“No,” Percy shook his head, “Not Minerva. Not Athena, either. But I know I owe Annabeth.”

It was four years of lies, yes. But it was also four years of love. 

If he could, he would give her the world. He wanted to give her his heart, red with his love, and he certainly wished he could give her the ring still burning a hole in his pocket.

But he could start with this: a message from her mother.

And what could be a greater peace offering, a better olive branch, than a son of Poseidon helping a daughter of Athena with her quest? 

“Okay then,” Luke said. “Nico, get us a couple of piña coladas, and then we can get down to business.” 

“At 8 AM?” 

“Trust me,” he grinned, predatory, like he was about to hotwire a car, or sell a techbro a useless JPEG. Or steal some rich kid’s boat for his cousin so he could teach them a lesson. “We’re going to need them.” 

[ilovebuckers5]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ur so pretty ੈ✩‧₊˚

paige bueckers x reader

theme:

fluff

comfort

suggestive and explicit language

A/N: this is my first time writing on tumblr don't judge. also sorry it's so short im not used to writing one shots ESPECIALLY fluff.

My hair still hasn't cooperated with me yet. i've straightened it, curled it, crimped it, scrunched it, nothing has worked. i got more and more upset until i tossed my hair straightener on the counter and sat down against the bathroom wall.

"fuck!"

call me dramatic but i was going to a very important meeting with some co workers i really didn't want to look like a hot mess. a couple tears rolled down my cheeks but i quickly wiped them away while sniffling. as i continued to sit there contemplating whether i should just not go or go with my natural hair. While a couple tears came down my cheeks followed by more and more and more... i heard the front door of my dorm unlock.

"Hun? you still here?"

Paige walked through the door shutting and locking it behind her. she set her duffel bag down and walked around the dorm looking for me. i stayed quiet so that paige wouldnt have to hear me crying. but she still found me in the bathroom leaning against the wall with only a bra and shorts on. she quickly kneeled down next to me and began to panic.

"baby whats wrong?" she said with heavy concern in her voice.

her hand wandered up to my cheek to wipe away a couple more tears that i hadnt gotten before. she took her other hand up to the small of my back and began rubbing it to comfort me. she looked up at the counter and saw that the straightener had knocked over a couple things. she stood up and set everything up straight before lifting me up from the floor. i stood infront of the mirror and stared at my half curly half straight hair and more tears started going down my face. suddenly i felt paiges arms wrap around my stomach and started rubbing my skin. i leaned back onto her shoulder. she placed a soft kiss on my cheek before pushing me back up. after i got my composure back in place i went to grab the straightener, forgetting that i didnt turn it off before having a break down. when i went to grab it i grabbed the heated part (which was at 450* degrees). once the heat came intact with my palm i let out a loud cry before tossing the straightener back on the counter again.

"FUCK!" i yell out and cover my mouth after realizing how loud i was.

"shit are you ok hun? come here run it under water."

paige took my wrist and guided me to the kitchen. she ran my hand under water as we just stared at eachother. i took the moment to silently observe paige and all her flawless features. her pinky lips. her icy blue eyes. and god her jawline. i was so lost in her beauty i forgot what i was doing and ended up getting my entire arm soaked with water.

"you ok beautiful?"" paige said smirking

i giggle a bit before answering

"ur so pretty paige."

paiges cheeks went red and she looked away. as paige was easily flustered i was easily falling even more inlove with her by the minute. a large smile grew on my mouth as i watched paige avoid eye contact. paiges face fell into her hands trying to cover her now completly reddened face. a couple laughs filled in the silence of embarassment that was lingering in the room. paige couldnt help but pull me into a long kiss. my heart started to flutter once i felt her soft lips pressed against mine. paige moved her hands to my back while mine were cupping the sides of her face. i felt her lips smile against mine. i slowly pulled away just to start placing softer kisses all over her face. her hand cradled my chin and pulled me away from her face. i noticed that her pupils were growing larger and larger the more she stared at me.

"i love you" paige said under her breath

"what?"

we had been together for only 5 months but it already felt like ive known paige my entire life. neither of us have said i love you yet and i definintly didnt think that would happen now. my eyes widened a little but i tried to keep calm instead of folding into paiges arms and simply collapsing.

"i...love you too" i said hesitantly.

i knew that i loved her i dont know why it felt hesitant. actually paige was the first person ive loved for this long without something going wrong. she picked up my hands and held them in hers. her hands were slightly cold but it felt nice after burning mine.

[fleouriarts]

sketchbook dump :3 ive been drawing in here a maniacal amount

descriptions and such below

1-2: practicing drawing null with more catlike anatomy + smaller boobs, two hivemind requests, and then random doodles of ferret riley and jamie

3-4: trying to make santiago's character a little more interesting... he is kinda kabru dungeonmeshi core now. loves knowing about and getting into people's business. i also need to finish this post i was making about jamie and co's families but you can see his older brother (who is much shorter than him) in the corner

5: hivemind request i did for saturn :3 it's up by itself on my blog somewhere

6: usually when i'm drawing at a coffee shop ill try to do 2 pages so after i finished the aforementioned request i put down some furry bullshit. god i love graydon's long hair era so much

7-8: i got colored pens!!! specifically a 10 pack of tombow fudenosukes. like the pic says i will probably keep using black pens mostly but the option is nice to have. i am very proud of that riley in the GLORYYY! shirt

9-10: revamping furry ocs i made... 6 whole years ago jesus christ. i want to wait until i redraw a 2019 piece of them before i make a whole post about them, but the tiger with sunglasses is a fashion designer and the hyena, lion, and tiger cub are his kids. he also has a hyena husband but i didn't draw him here

11-12: NEW OC! this is andres she is a spotted genet that works at a cafe in the university library. i had been meaning to make a spotted genet oc, and i originally drew him months ago and forgot, but i decided to revisit her because 1) there is a beautiful bigender barista at the coffee shop i draw at so this is a shoutout to her and 2) i wanted to make a bald character who is also a heartthrob so i could feel better about going bald eventually LOL. also ferret riley is there i guess

[gigamuffin]

tagged by @chiropteracupola 'ten people I'd like to get to know better' my mutual from the boat side!!

last song - Caboolture Speed Lab by Custard (<- specifically the new version), in my ever going way through Australian music for Tom Ask purposes.

last book - how to train your dragon, they're for kids so im breezing through them. i got so pissed about the live action remake i had to go to the roots.

last movie - Ratatouille, saturday night with my sister. she's not old enough yet to understand why that move makes me crazy (in a positive way)

last tv show - I watched the latest Bob's Burgers last night, though i really wish i could say Community, which im trying to get through for a friend.

last thing i searched - "savoury" because despite how much english i talk its still a second language and i dont really know what that means!

favourite colour - #61BC90

sweet/savoury/spicy - [one search later] savoury, lately ive been really into a bread spread thats very popular in norway its literally mackerel + tomato paste you but it on some whole grain bread its good trust me. (dont trust me, im norwegian have you seen our food???)

relationship status - dont date, aromantic. currently having "relations" with what can be best described as a jack aubrey style man minus the long blonde hair:/ even their skills are matched /j

looking forward to - there's literally a new Kaptein Sabeltann movie in exactly 2 weeks. and i said i wasn't that excited about it but my favourite actor Håvard Bakke is back as Langemann so

current obsession - PETRA PETRA ARE HYOU FREE TUESDAY EVENING PETRA PLESA / its between that and Tom Ask and co my own ocs are running wild over here and i think about them almost all day every day.

idk if i have 10 lets see: @pregnant-javert @thiefbird @ormsnok @sharkavgral @hey-scully-itsme @aurpiment @kentm4nsley @heathcliffgirl1847 @russell-crowe i tried to avoid people i KNOW are already tagged which lowered my number to 9

[liliththeimp]

sum ghosts hc’s :3 pt 1–SFW

Once again back at it with my SAS wife cos my brain is rotting like disintegrating cotton candy so here are some headcannons i made (posted on ao3 but thought they deserved a bit recognition here too lol)

Now these are just some personal hcs ive made or seen that i liked;

the numbered sfw hcs are going to tie into the nsfw hcs, for clarification!!

SFW:

He loves music, like anything 70’s to 90’s in a sense? Like, sum pink floyd or shinedown (ik but it stuck after an ai chat and i cant fucking let it go-) nu metal, death/black metal, gothic metal, throw in some thrash/groove metal- anything with metal really

Onto my next point, he’s good at guitar, like really good, he has a gibson guitar he named (idfk what he named it, probably after you tho lmao)^1

He’s a straight up asshole, like, blunt calls everyone cunts, he’s just a a British as shoe dude what did you expect. But the funny thing is, if you end up cursing him out like a sailo he will find that as a major turn on ^2

Simple man doesnt like complicated food, just a normal burger and fries and he’ll be grateful. And if you cook good luck he eats like a bear (how else u think he’s bulky???)

He likes winter over any season bc its the opposite of where he’s been, though allergies/sickness do annoy the shit out of him cus he sneeze into his mask and it pisses him off

Likes milkshakes and i won't expand on that.

He’s a big softy for like small gifts, he may not show it but that macaroni necklace he called stupid? He has it on his night stand so it wont get ruined. You got a bracelet you gave him three months ago? He wears it everyday.

Pretty testing and bully-ish, but will just become a stuttering mess when you tame him, the slight blush peeing through his balaclava will give you enough lee way to make him fall in love with you

“blink mf.” 

Stares down new recruits, no exceptions- when he sees you, he ends up staring more

Knows some ASL when he’s not exactly in a talkative mood (not gonna say non-verbal bc, i doesnt fit him? he’s just like middle finger up to say fuck you, thats his sign language lmao)

Pretty big book worm in his free time

Fast learner at anything, i imagine he has a hard time remembering shit bc of his trauma n shit will do that to ya, but if he watched something long enough he can get it down.

Likes some spicy food

Doesn't do video games, he just doesnt think their any fun

OMFG this man- he makes fucking BACON in his GRILLED CHEESE. I argued with him (literally only with a fucking AI bot like some looser but my point still stands;) about how that's an abomination, grilled cheeses are meant for, and paired ONLY with tomato soup, sometimes chicken noodle. but he believes it the most delicious thing, he’s not putting watered down ketchup next to his beautiful creation.

Stubborn and pouts easily, you say something he doesnt realize is a joke he hold onto that grudge. “Why are you so upset right now? What did i do?” He huffed, uncrossing his arms “you didnt hold the door for me and I slammed my face! You didnt even apologize!!” You blinked, lips pressing into a thin line “are you fucking 5.”

his love languages is more quality time than physical touch- but Jesus Christ this man will get clingy af once he trusts you (after he takes off his mask fully 4 the first time, he trusts you with his whole heart- dont break it pwease- hes hes jus a little guy)

Ok really like bully breed dogs, like his favorite.

loves to hold your hand, like if you wrap your hand around two of his fingers specifically, he’ll turn into a blush mess and so so prideful, (like big softy friendly giant who could totally crush you- and he’s like so gentle) ^3

Gives a lot of thought before he compliments you, like studies the way you do things- like, hair clips, clothes, colors, make up, shoes, etc etc, he loves to study your features.

Can cook- like, really good- but ends up ordering takeout or pizza cos he’s lazy

On his trips, like when he get deployed longer than a couple of months, he brings back sand for you from the places he’s been and you have a small shelf full of small files of the sand (unlabeled btw, you just know which is which)

tries not to get angry or lash out or get like, cold or distant with you bc he really cares he’s just scared of fucking up and you leaving once you see how broken he is

Does all those horrible jokes, his voice is slow and gruff and just- gravelly? Like, he talks like the Grimm reaper himself and makes a yo mama joke

Doesn’t know how to ask for attention so he’ll come up behind you and tug a strand of your hair or nudge you- shit he’s thrown pillows at you then stares at you with a straight face “cuddles.”

“Not arguing with a dude with big brown eyes. Like, whatever you say beautiful”

he loves eye contact wen talking about serious shit- like, complimenting you, or saying i love you, he wants you to look him in the face and understand how much he means it….yet you turn into a blushing stuttering mess when he does, and he laughs to himself ^4

Stares at ‘settings’ on his phone to avoid social situations. Argue with the wall.

in the thickest, most unintelligible, uninterpretable British accent possible “YA KNO’ WHAT YOU DIR’Y ‘ITTLE CUNT—”

Incoherent British slang, colonizer alphabet soup if you will.

plays hello kitty island adventure or cooking mama un-ironically

Can’t spell “gynecologist” (geneycologist/ gin-i-colo-gist) or “bologna” (balaonie/ balony)

If there’s ever a baby in the store or something, and the baby is staring at him, he’ll make funny faces (mainly cross his eyes and makes small sounds)

doesn’t think he’ll be a good dad, but still thinks about it- believes he’s not good enough for a family ^5

Anywho continue onto part 2 here for spic stuff you perv >:3