#idk what time it is for the rest of the world

[borathae]

Kiss the Cook

“Yoongi loves to cook for you. You love to watch him as he does and soon you can’t take it anymore. You have to kiss him or you will implode.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life, domestic Fluff

Warnings: cutie!Yoongi, Yoongi being a sexy cook, i said what i said, he blushes!, she feeds him some tangerines <3, as she sits on the kitchen counter, making out on said counter, Yoongi in a woolen jumper, idk but this is so hot to me and therefore needs a warning, they’re grossly in love!!!, i want what they have #bigsad

Wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: i love him, i love them, i love her, i love this :( enjoy besties, oy!Yoongi is going to be the fucking death of me fjdjasf he is such a cutie ❤ ps: does a story sometimes make you feel so single or discontent with your current love life that you want to claw your own eyes out? yeah. this is that story for me. i want what they have fuxkxk they feel so mature and settled and :( grrr spreading negativity all around me grrrr

You invited Yoongi over for dinner and wine. Which means that he comes over to your place to cook while you watch him and sip on wine. Now, this isn’t because you are lazy or you are forcing him to cook. On the contrary, it was Yoongi’s idea. He loves cooking for you, so you learned, and these little dinner dates have become a regular thing in your relationship.

And it is perfect. You get to see him and talk to him. He gets to do something he loves whilst talking to you. And at the end of it, you can share the yummiest dinner ever and experience a giddy tingle in your stomachs.

You invited him over tonight for exactly such a dinner date. You dressed up in a thick jumper and some woolen socks and even did your hair.

It has been snowing rather vividly all day, turning the roads into one powdery white plane with the rest of the world. The weeping willow in front of your sunroom is bending under the weight of the snow and the frozen stream is covered under a heavy layer of it as well. It is such a beautiful view, making you happy to be inside where it is warm and cozy.

Levi, your cute little cat, hasn’t left his spot by the fireplace all day. He spends most of his winter days napping where it is warm or watching the very few winter birds eat from your bird feeder. He will not leave for outside, however, that much is sure. It is way too much work to soil his good fur with sticky, wet snow.

You check the time again. Ten past eight. Yoongi should have been here by eight. You pace in front the sunroom windows, looking at the faint lights where his house might be. He decorated the outside with lots of Christmas lights and on the nights where you miss him, you like to stand in the sunroom and look up at the lights. Whenever you do, it feels as if he was right there with you. 

Tonight however, the view makes you uneasy. Where is Yoongi and why isn’t he here yet? Did he slip and hit his head? Did a huge chunk of snow fall on him and he is now buried alive somewhere? Is he stuck somewhere? Did he forget?

Nervously biting your own nails, you hurry to the front door to take another peek outside. 

“Oh, shit!” Yoongi exclaims, stumbling back and almost dropping the grocery bags he is carrying under his arms.

You flinch back too, not having expected him to literally stand right in front of the door in the midst of ringing your bell.

“Sorry, you scared me”, he apologises for his cursing. He is bundled into the thickest winter coat ever, wearing a beanie, scarf and gloves with it. His snow pants are covered in snow up to his thighs, his winter boots are basically white from all the snow. The last few inches of his coat are opened. Holly, wearing a little beanie as well, is peeking out from it. Yoongi must have bundled him up in it to keep him warm. The view is adorable.

“You scared me too. I wanted to check if I could spot you. Come in”, you say, stepping out of the doorway.

“Yeah, sorry for being late. I underestimated the height of the snow. I had to fight my way down here without falling on my butt. I waddled like I was ninety.” 

“No worries, I’m just so happy that you’re here now and that you’re safe. I already pictured the worst scenarios ever.” 

Yoongi chuckles, “I survived. Barely, but I survived.”

You laugh. He is so funny, making you laugh again when he struggles with undressing.

“Wait. Let me take the bags so you have your hands free.”

“Thanks.” 

“Of course, I’ll carry them to the kitchen if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead, I’ll be with you soon.”

You are in the midst of unpacking the groceries when Yoongi and Holly join you in the kitchen. Holly greets you first, jumping up your leg and barking excitedly. 

You coo, picking him up to let him lick your face. 

“I missed you too, you little stinker. Aw big kissies, yes big kissies.”

“He really missed you”, Yoongi says, walking to you. 

“Yeah, I missed him too.” You hand him Holly. “And I missed his dad even more. Hey there, handsome”, you say, stealing a kiss. 

Yoongi smiles into it, rubbing your waist as the kiss breaks.

“Hey there, beautiful. I missed you too.” He says and then takes a step back to set down Holly. The little toy poodle instantly sets off to explore your home and look for Levi. 

Yoongi studies your get-up, “I love what you did with your hair. It suits you.”

“Thank you, heh. I tried something new.”

“It’s nice, really beautiful.”

“Thankies. Uhm, wine?” You offer. “I might have already started without you because I was picturing you dying somewhere.”

He laughs, “what a relaxing thing to do. I won’t say no to some wine, thank you.”

You prepare him a glass, then cheer with him. He enjoys it with a hum. Afterwards he touches your hip and kisses your cheek. You lean into it, smiling from ear to ear. He is always so gentle with you. You love it so much.

“I hope that you’re hungry. I’m making risotto tonight”, Yoongi says.

“Yes risotto! I love risotto. I haven’t eaten since twelve because I wanted to be really hungry tonight.” 

Yoongi smiles and begins. He puts on the apron you made for him and rolls up his sleeves. Well, at least he tries to because you stop him before he can.

“Wait, let me.”

He gazes at your face as you work, cheeks slightly flushed and heart racing. 

“Thanks”, he whispers, trying oh so hard not to expose how giddy he actually feels. Spoiler alert, he feels very giddy. You are always so tender with him. He loves it so much.

Yoongi is wearing a brown jumper made out of the softest wool. It is warm and sits on his body in the most perfect of ways. His chest and back are defined in it, but he still looks snuggly. You feel so attracted to him that it is difficult not to bite him. In an adoring way of course. 

It also isn’t helping that he is wearing your favourite cologne and a watch which really fits his wrist. Once his sleeves are rolled up, you can’t help but feel up his arms just once. You trace his veins, squeeze him and play with his fingers.

Yoongi chuckles lazily, closing his hands around yours.

“Is this still part of the service?” 

“No, this was for me. You look really sexy in this jumper.”

He smiles and pulls you close to steal a kiss. You give it to him with a fluttering heart, gazing deep into his eyes once it breaks. He has the most beautiful eyes.

“I put it on for you. Because you once said that you like me in a jumper.”

“I do. I could bite you, I’m serious.”

“Please don’t”, he laughs and pecks your cheek, “I’ll be quick with dinner, promise. No biting needs to happen.”

“Maybe a little bit of biting.”

He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“If I knew that I would be dating a biter, I might have reconsidered”, he jokes, busy with setting up some pans.

“You like it. Don’t lie”, you say and sit down on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe I do.”

You snicker, picking up a tangerine to peel it as he cooks.

And so it begins. One of the coziest and most beloved date activity as a couple. He cooks while you watch him. There are only a few things better than this. 

You have the radio playing. Christmas songs because it is almost time for the holidays. The tangerine fills the air with a cozy scent and the wine tastes especially good. Whenever you and he aren’t lost in conversation, you can listen to Yoongi hum to the songs on the radio. He has a very nice singing voice. Deep and warm. You could listen to it for hours. Just as you could listen to him talk for hours.

“How are your legs by the way? Did the snow soak through your snow pants?” you ask him, staring at his butt. 

It isn’t your fault, he is wiggling it to the music. It is his fault that you have to take a sneaky look.

“Mhm? No, my legs are fine. The snow didn’t soak through.”

“That’s good to hear. How was your day?”

“It was good. I fixed some things in the upstairs bathroom and started with the chaulking.”

Yoongi is still renovating his house. It is a very big project and he isn’t stressing himself, so it’s been taking some time already. You don’t mind. It just means that he will have to stay over more often whenever the building site is too dirty. Quite frankly, a part of you secretly wishes for the renovations to take forever just so he will keep coming over to sleep in your bed. You really love having him sleep in your bed. Not only because he is a total cuddlebug (don’t spread these news to anyone, he is very shy about it) or because he always smells so good, but also because you feel safer with him close. 

“Chaulking? Wow, this sounds like process”, you say.

“Yeah, it’s been going really well lately.” He turns for a moment. “And you? Did you have a good day?”

“I had a really good day. I made some progress on the scarf and then did some yoga. Tangerine?” 

Yoongi closes the distance, snacking on the slice you’re offering.

“This sounds like a good day. You have to be finished soon, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it's almost finished, which is very exciting if you asked me.”

You are currently knitting a scarf and have been regularly sending updates to Yoongi via text messages. His reactions to the messages vary from “good job!” all the way to the very rare and precious thumbs up emoji. He is honestly such a cutie.

“I can imagine. Do you have a new project in mind after you finish the scarf?” Yoongi takes one more slice of tangerine before he returns to the stove. 

While you begin telling him about all the knitting project ideas you have. You don’t leave out any details. The material of the yarn, the design, the colours, even what kind of stitches you plan on using. And Yoongi listens gladly, he asks questions and reacts with his very endearing version of enthusiasm. It means so much to you. Being loved by him is so fulfilling. You feel so important, as if your existence has purpose. There is not one thing about you which isn’t important to him or which you feel like you have to hide from him.

It might sound strange, but being loved by him is so freeing. You feel so whole and so happy and you love him so much in return. 

Yoongi steals one more slice of tangerine, staying close to you afterwards as he slices some mushrooms for the risotto.

“And what about you? Any new music projects you are working on?” you ask him, switching your adoring gaze between his face and his hands. He has such sexy hands.

“Yes, so many”, he says, nodding his head.

“Tell me everything.”

You listen to everything he has to tell you, gazing at him with the biggest heart eyes. He is so interesting and exciting. His hobbies are so wonderful to listen to. As much as you love talking to him, you love listening just as much.

Yoongi feels content with you. He feels utterly and completely happy. There is nothing missing with you. When he is with you, he feels whole and like himself. There is not even the littlest thing about him he feels like he has to hide from you and whenever he comes out of one of his accidental monologues about his interests, he isn’t met with boredom but enthusiasm and questions. Truly, his nerdy little heart swells thrice its size when he is with you. 

A moment of silence follows after you and he exchanged interests. Happy and jazzy Christmas music fills it. Yoongi picks up the cutting board, carrying it to the pan so he can sauté the mushrooms in some butter. He adds the rice afterwards, seasoning it before he pours white wine into the pan. He pours some of the wine in his glass afterwards, closing the distance to clink glasses with you. 

“To this evening”, he says, smiling one of his pretty, soft smiles he always does.

“To this evening and to you, the best boyfriend ever.” 

“Be quiet”, he mumbles and drinks from his glass, looking to the side shyly. He blushes.

“Never. You need to know”, you say and lean in to munch on his cheek. 

“Hey. No biting”, he laughs as he complains, moving back. 

“Mhm, then how about I kiss the cook instead?” you say, setting the wine aside to pull him closer.

He lets you tug him between your legs, smiling at you and setting the wine aside. His eyes fall to your lips, his hands dance along a path which consists of your waist, hips and the side of your thighs.

“You’ve got a minute before I have to get back to the risotto”, he says.

“Then let me make the best of it”, you say, pulling him into a kiss. 

How you make the best of this one minute. You kiss him as if you missed him for a million years, as if you needed him for survival, as if his lips are all you ever wished for. It might only be a minute, but Yoongi comes out of this kiss with slightly wobbly knees and a racing heart. His cheeks are flushed, his lower lip tingles as you end the kiss by biting on it gently. 

“What was that for?” his voice is raspy, his eyes foggy as they gaze at your lips.

“Just felt like it”, you whisper, playing with his soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Should we like, I don’t know, should I remove the pan from the stove for a moment?” 

You laugh, scrunching your nose. You know what he is insinuating, stomach tingling at the aspect of it.

“And why should you do that?” you tease him, tinting his cheeks an even deeper pink. He curses under his breath, giving your hips a gentle squeeze.

“You drive me crazy, you know. First kissing me like this and then acting innocent.”

“Shouldn’t you check on the rice?”

Yoongi lets out a whine of discontent, but breaks away from you to stir the rice. He glances at you. You retort the glances, heart racing like crazy. His hair is a little messy because you played with it as you kissed him. His lips are slightly puffy and flushed pink. Quite frankly, he has never looked more attractive than he does right now in your little kitchen wearing the black apron you made for him as he cooks you dinner and seems just a little ruffled from your kiss. 

You lift the glass of wine to your equally as puffy lips, giving him an eye smile as you sip the sweet alcohol. Yoongi blushes, shifting his gaze to dinner. He rolls his lower lip between his teeth mindlessly while his hands are busy with pouring chicken stock over the rice. 

You and he both feel the electric sparkles in the air. The feeling is addicting, just as it is addicting to spend time with each other. You just work so well together, you are so right. 

“You know”, you begin.

“Yes, baby?” he answers you, voice warm and caring.

“I love having you over.” 

He glances again. His eyes sparkle, his teeth show in the shiest of smiles.

“I can look at you, I get to listen to you and talk to you. I love it.”

“Yeah, I love it too.”

“And I get to kiss you. It’s pretty awesome.”

He looks at your lips, raising your pulse with it.

“You know. I, theoretically, have one minute again”, he says, giving you puppy eyes.

You laugh because you love when he flirts. You set the wine aside, making grabby hands at him.

“Then come here and make it count.”

Yoongi sets the spoon aside, closing the distance. How he is going to make it count.

[hsnlv]

adorably mine! | l.hs

pairing: idol husband!heeseung x wife!reader

synopsis: heeseung’s been acting weirdly clingy lately, and it doesn’t take long to figure out why—he’s jealous. all because of one little comment about jungwon being cute. now you’re stuck dealing with a sulky, dramatic husband who won’t stop clinging to you.

warning: heeseung is in enhypen (no duh), mention of jungwon (idk if that needs a warning lmaoaoao), teeth-rotting fluff!, heeseung is superrrrrrr clingyyy and jealous and pouty and it’s sooo cute!!!

wc: 949

the way heeseung had been acting lately was enough to both frustrate you and make your heart swell at the same time. as much as you loved your affectionate, doting husband, his clinginess over the past few days had reached new heights—ones that were starting to seriously test your patience.

it had all started so innocently. a casual comment made during an outing with the rest of enhypen. you hadn’t even thought twice about it when you remarked how cute jungwon looked while practicing. after all, everyone knew you had a soft spot for adorable things, be it puppies, plushies, or jungwon’s leader energy.

but apparently, heeseung didn’t share your casual outlook.

the very moment the words left your lips, you noticed his head snap up, his usually soft brown eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at you. his lips had formed into the smallest pout, but you’d waved it off as a fleeting moment of jealousy.

if only you’d known what was coming.

𐙚🧸ྀི

it started with little things. like the way heeseung would suddenly hold your hand tighter whenever jungwon was around. or how he’d lean in closer than usual during conversations, as if he was trying to drown out the presence of anyone else. then, it escalated.

you’d never seen him quite like this.

“baby, can you please let go?” you asked, a mix of exasperation and fondness in your tone as you struggled to fold laundry. heeseung’s arms were snugly wrapped around your waist from behind, his chin resting heavily on your shoulder.

“no,” he murmured, voice low and firm as if his very life depended on staying glued to you. his breath tickled your neck as he pressed himself closer, and his grip tightened slightly. “i like it here.”

you sighed, your movements slowing as you turned your head slightly to glance at him. heeseung’s brown eyes met yours, wide and pleading, a spark of insecurity flickering in them that made your heart clench.

“are you seriously still hung up about what i said the other day?” you asked, voice softening.

he didn’t answer, but the way he pursed his lips said enough.

“baby,” you tried again, your tone half-scolding, half-affectionate. “i call everything cute. you’ve known me long enough to know that it doesn’t mean anything.”

“yeah, but…” he trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t call me cute anymore.”

your heart practically broke at his words.

“oh, hee,” you cooed, gently prying his arms from your waist so you could turn and face him. “is that what this is about?”

heeseung shrugged, his pout deepening. his eyes dropped to the floor as he shuffled awkwardly, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly.

“it’s not fair,” he muttered under his breath, glancing at you from under his lashes. “you’re my wife. you’re supposed to think i’m the cutest.”

you bit back a laugh, not wanting to hurt his already fragile ego. instead, you cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. his cheeks were tinged with a faint pink, and he looked more like a sulky child than the confident, charismatic performer the world knew him to be.

“lee heeseung,” you said firmly, though your lips twitched with a smile. “you are, without a doubt, the cutest man i’ve ever met. no one—and i mean no one—even comes close.”

“not even jungwon?” he asked, his tone still holding a hint of jealousy.

“not even jungwon,” you promised, leaning in to press a kiss to his nose.

heeseung’s pout wavered, and you could tell he was trying hard not to smile. but then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he blurted out, “say it again.”

you blinked. “what?”

“that i’m cute,” he mumbled, his ears turning red.

you couldn’t hold back your laughter this time, your heart swelling with affection for the man in front of you. “hee, you’re adorable. the cutest. the most precious. no one else even compares, okay?”

finally, his pout disappeared, replaced by a shy, satisfied grin. he leaned into your touch, his arms winding around your waist once more as he pulled you into his lap.

“you really mean it?” he asked, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“of course, i mean it,” you replied, your fingers threading through his soft hair.

heeseung let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing lightly against your collarbone. but just as you thought he’d finally calmed down, you couldn’t resist one last tease.

“though, now that i think about it, jungwon is pretty cute…”

heeseung pulled back so fast you almost lost your balance.

“baby!” he whined, his cheeks puffing out in frustration. “stop saying that!”

you burst into laughter, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him back to you. “i’m kidding, hee. you’re the only guy i’ll ever want. no one else even stands a chance.”

he narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously, but the way he melted back into your embrace betrayed his resolve. “you’re so mean,” he muttered, though there was no heat in his words.

“and you’re so dramatic,” you shot back, pressing a kiss to his temple.

heeseung only hummed, a quiet, pleased sound that made your heart flutter. his hold on you tightened, as if he never wanted to let go, and you knew in that moment that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“i love you,” he murmured, his voice soft and genuine.

“i love you too,” you replied, resting your forehead against his.

and even though he’d surely find another reason to pout tomorrow, you knew you’d always have the upper hand—because heeseung was hopelessly, completely, head-over-heels in love with you.

[misswynters]

Big Bear

short drabble

featuring. Claggor x reader

a/n. ew this is celery (idk why i wrote this, enjoy my cringiness for claggor)

Zaun was always a city of noise, of heat, and of endless motion. It was a place where the streets hummed with the clanging of machines, the echo of heavy boots, and the constant pulse of life. But in the midst of it all, you always found peace in Claggor's company.

You and Claggor had always been close, but over time, the bond between you grew into something more. He was a big guy, towering over most people with broad shoulders and arms that were built for lifting heavy things. But despite his rough appearance, you had always known there was more to him. There was a softness to his heart, a tenderness in the way he looked at you when he thought no one was watching.

The way he’d chuckle softly at your jokes, the way he’d make sure you were always safe. You admired his quiet strength, the way he moved through the world with purpose. You could always rely on him, whether it was to help you carry something or to keep you safe when the world felt too overwhelming.

One day, you were hanging out in the corner of a rundown tavern, sipping a cup of warm cider to combat the chill of Zaun's weather. The others were nearby: Jinx, Vi, and the rest of the crew. However, you found yourself drawn to Claggor’s presence. He was leaning against a pillar, looking out over the others, but his eyes were always coming back to you, just to make sure you were alright.

You were tiny compared to him, a little more delicate than most, but you had never let it stop you. You often joked about how the rest of the crew treated you like their little sibling, but Claggor’s attention was always different. He treated you like you were something to be cared for. And you never minded it.

"Hey, what's up?" Claggor asked, walking over to you with that characteristic smile on his face.

You tilted your head back, catching the glint of amusement in his eyes. "Nothing much. Just thinking." You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink.

Claggor raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, his massive frame towering over you. "Thinking, huh?" He crouched down to your level, his eyes softening as they met yours. “About what?”

You sighed, looking up at him with a smirk. “How you’re so huge, Claggor. I don’t even know how you can fit in places sometimes."

His laugh came out low and rumbling, the sound somehow making you feel warm inside. "You’re the one who needs to watch out, not me. I’m a lot bigger than I look."

That was true. His arms were thick with muscle, and the biceps that you’d once admired now seemed to pulse with strength as he flexed them playfully. The sight made something inside of you stir. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way he carried himself. His physical strength, his imposing size, it was all so gentle with you.

Before you could think too much about it, Claggor’s large hand reached out, curling around your waist as he effortlessly lifted you off your feet with a single arm. The move was so natural, so fluid, that it took you by surprise, and you found yourself gasping a little. "Wha—Claggor!" You laughed, trying to keep yourself steady, your hands resting lightly on his forearm.

His grin widened, and he held you even closer, pulling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. “Told you, you need to watch out for me. You’re so tiny, it’s like picking up a feather.”

You were surprised by how easily he could lift you, his big arms cradling your body like you were nothing. It felt both safe and dizzying, his touch so secure but also sending a rush of warmth through your body. He smelled like sweat, metal, and the faintest hint of something musky.

"You’re so strong," you whispered, unable to help yourself as you gazed up at him. His muscles flexed beneath your hands, and your heart skipped a beat.

Claggor’s face softened as he looked down at you, his eyes flickering with something deeper than his usual teasing. “I’m strong because I have to be," he said, his voice quieter now. "But with you... I don’t need to show off. You make me want to be gentler."

You felt your heart swell at his words, the sincerity in his voice pulling you in. You leaned in slightly, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. His grip on you tightened, pulling you closer still.

"Youre such a softie, Claggor," you whispered, your voice soft, barely above a breath. "Like a cuddly teddy bear."

Claggor's grin widened, and he let out a soft laugh. "Guess that makes you my favorite person to spoil," he said, his tone full of warmth. He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. "You’ve got a way of making me feel like I can be soft and still be enough."

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you let out a quiet, contented sigh. There was something so comforting in his presence, in the way he held you. In his arms, you felt small, sure, but you also felt like the most important person in the world to him.

"Claggor," you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, don’t you?”

His gaze softened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing lightly against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The connection was so tender, so full of quiet affection, that you almost didn’t want it to end. But when it did, Claggor pulled back just slightly, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I don’t have to try too hard, do I?” he teased, his voice low, warm, and full of affection.

“No,” you said softly, reaching up to touch his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. “You never have to try too hard.”

His gaze darkened just a little, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as he pulled you closer again. This kiss was deeper, slower, and it left you breathless. You couldn’t help but melt into it, feeling his strong arms around you, his body pressing you close in a way that made you feel safe and cared for.

When he pulled back, he smiled at you again, a soft, loving smile that melted your heart. “I’ll always be here, y’know. To keep you safe, to make you feel special.”

You smiled up at him, your heart racing. “Of course, Claggor. I know.”

And in that moment, you didn’t need anything more than the quiet certainty that he would always be by your side, his strength and tenderness a perfect balance for your own quieter nature. In his arms, you had everything you needed. His love, his strong arms and most importantly his wonderful big heart.

taglist. @diffusebread

[klldyousoz]

S.R x alt!reader

In which the team catches Spencer staring at the “alternative chick” across the bar.

Warnings/genre: Fluff, reader is referred to as a woman and girlfriend, slightly feminine reader (description of makeup,skirt etc), not so secret relationship, brief cm content in the beginning.

Second/third person (idk), Enjoy!

The team had been in California for a week to investigate a string of kidnappings in the downtown area. The case contained its usual horrific scenes and events but luckily the skilled team of agents were able to find the unsub and arrest him without any extra gore. Leading to where they are now. At a bar for drinks somewhere in Virginia.

Spencer’s eyes are focused on your every movement, zoning in on every feature of yours from your precisely styled hair and makeup down to your intricate flowy skirt, paired with the equally as intricate shoes he insisted on buying for you. He longs to hear your laughing and feel your touch but is unfortunately aware of his own rule to keep you two private from the world, not wanting any harm to come to you because of his line of work. Right now however, Spencer has decided he hates that rule.

The team were on their second round of drinks when people noticed Spencer’s sudden lack of attention in the conversation, but instead focused on a group at the other side of the packed bar. The smirk on his face was hard to miss and inevitably caught the attention of Derek and Penelope, having finished being in their own little bubble.

“Hey pretty boy,” Derek teases, “pretty boyyy?”

“Hm” Spencer responds, forcing his eyes away from across the bar to focus on Derek.

“Who over there has got you so caught up?” Penelope questions, the whole team now paying attention to their conversation.

“Nobody. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer quickly defends, causing a giggle from the girls at his nervousness.

“Sure you don’t,” Derek replies sarcastically, “So you don’t mind if I just, go over there?” Derek teases again.

But before Spencer can answer in protest or stop the, Derek and Penelope are already out of their seats and making their way over to you and your group of friends.

Although Spencer can’t hear much of your conversation over the bustle of the bar, he can imagine you recognise his two colleagues from the many pictures in his apartment as he notices your eyes widening at the realisation and your gorgeous smile making an always welcome appearance on your face. He thinks you’re an angel.

Soon enough, you begin to head over towards the table him and the remainder of the team occupy, excluding Derek and Penelope who are a few steps behind you with cheesy grins plastered on their faces.

Your smile hasn’t faltered and is still adorning your face as you near the table.

“Hello everyone, you must be the rest of Spencer’s team!” You beam while meeting the individual gazes of everyone including Spencer’s gazes.

Most of them stare cluelessly except for Spencer who is blushes in your unprompted presence. After a few seconds of silence, Derek thankfully cuts the tension and explains,

“This beautiful woman here seems to know Spencer pretty well. Do you care to explain that to us all pretty boy?” He says with a wink.

Spencer blushes even more at the sudden turn of heads in his direction, feeling your piercing gaze along with his colleagues inquisitive looks.

“Well uhm everyone, this is y/n. My girlfriend.” He stammers saying the last part in a hurry whilst gesturing towards you.

The table erupts into a flurry of “hello, nice to meet you”, compliments directed towards you and your style with the occasional “I didn’t know Spencer had a girlfriend” to which you responded,

“He’s been keeping you guys from me for 6 months. Can you believe?” You joke with a fake pout on your lips.

“Well we need to make up for lost time then.” Jj claims.

“Reid, the next rounds on you. We have some questions to ask!” Emily demands in agreement. The rest of team then seconding her idea.

Spencer sighs, already feeling sorry for his bank account about to feel the consequences of his team’s expensive taste but all distain is gone as soon as you slip into the spot next to him. And as soon as you kiss him sweetly in greeting and then again for fun, he knows he’s going to have a good night even if he’s the target of all teasing tomorrow. He’s glad you’ve finally met his makeshift family and knows he’ll not regret this unplanned introduction.

A/n: Hi all, this is literally my first ever actual oneshot not just hcs! Any tips are appreciated and of course any interactions! Thank you guys for reading!

[hwamphwamp]

*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟcuddling // xdinary heroes ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*

a/n: trying little baby blurbs so I can at least post SOMETHING when I’m not in the mood to write longer stuff?? Idk, these were fun to write really quick for giggles

warning(s): swearing, other than that there’s technically nothing that I view as anything crazy but like… obviously cuddling/physical affection… Jooyeon’s is very slightly suggestive if you squint hard enough I guess but I tried to make this as innocent and gender neutral as possible

(`·.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.-> gunil <-.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.·´)

“How do you like it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, clinging to Gunil like a koala while he laid in your arms. It probably looked ridiculous—your legs wrapped around him and arms hugging him tight as you clung onto him with all your might.

“I mean…” he started, voice already teasing, “I feel like I’m wearing a warm backpack.” He tried to turn his head to look at you, but you pushed it gently back onto your arm, which was currently serving as his pillow.

“Stay still,” you murmured, still grinning.

He let out a a soft laugh but didn’t resist, settling back against you. “I do wish I didn’t feel like I was being held captive every time I try to move, though.”

“So you don’t like being the small spoon?” you asked, though the way he shifted, pulling your leg tighter around him, told you all you needed to know.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, lifting your hand from where it rested on his torso. He kissed each of your knuckles slowly; like it was the most natural thing in the world. “But if you say a word about this to anyone, I’ll never let you do this again.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you started to pull away dramatically. “Oh? Never again? Guess I’ll just—”

“Don’t.” His hands moved fast, pulling your arms and legs right back around him before you could even pretend to reclaim the tiniest bit of freedom.

“You addicted little liar,” you teased, laughing softly against his neck. “I knew you were bluffing.”

Gunil let out a quiet, shaky laugh; the sound tinged with just enough embarrassment to make his ears burn. He silently thanked the darkness for hiding the m blush that was creeping up his neck and settling across his cheeks.

(`·.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.-> jungsu <-.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.·´)

“You’re aware that I can move you whenever I want to, right?”

Jungsu’s voice was calm, but the faint, mischievous shine in his eyes said he was already plotting his next move. You lifted your head from where it rested on his chest, meeting his gaze with the most innocent smile you could muster.

“Of course I’m aware,” you replied, tapping his nose playfully with your index finger before setting your head back down. Sure, you knew he could flip you over like it was nothing—but where was the fun in letting him think he had the upper hand all the time?

It didn’t take long—maybe a minute or two—before Jungsu made his move, flipping you effortlessly so that he was now draped over you instead. His eyes fluttered shut almost immediately as your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, massaging his scalp with just enough pressure to pull him deeper into relaxation.

“That’s not—god…” he mumbled, his words trailing off as your fingers worked their magic. “That’s not fair.”

If there was one thing you were good at, it was taking control in the subtlest of ways, even when Jungsu tried to assert himself. He’d never admit it to anyone else, but he loved the way you could see right through him—the way you knew exactly how to unravel him in minutes after a long day.

“Life’s not fair, buddy,” you teased, smirking as your fingers gave a light tug on his hair just to test the waters. Sure enough, an almost silent groan escaped his lips—almost being the key word.

“You’re kind of evil. Do you know that?” he muttered, using what little willpower he had left to at least let you know that he wasn’t blind; he knew exactly what you were doing.

“Of course I know that,” you replied, your heart softening as you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, letting the moment linger for both your sakes. “How do you think I won you over in the first place?”

(`·.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.-> gaon/jiseok <-.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.·´)

“So, do you have an upset stomach or are you just hungry?” Jiseok asked, peeking up at you from where he’d made himself very comfortable, laying on your stomach like it was his personal pillow.

“Neither,” you replied, flicking his forehead lightly for breaking the peaceful silence. “Stomachs just make noise, babe. Not my fault you want to lay on mine 24/7.”

“It’s so soft,” he murmured, nuzzling deeper into you like it was a perfectly reasonable thing to say. You half-worried he might smother himself at some point, but he looked too peaceful to disturb.

“Well, that’s not exactly what anyone wants to hear about their stomach,” you teased.

“Don’t care,” Jiseok mumbled, his voice muffled as he wrapped his arms around you to ensure you wouldn’t dare try to move him. “You’re soft and comfortable. My little human teddy bear.”

You couldn’t hold back the laugh that had been bubbling in your chest since the moment he threw himself on top of you, dramatically swearing that he’d never let you move again.

Jiseok, didn’t care in the slightest. The smile he’d been wearing since he found you waiting for him in bed stayed on his face, his happiness so warm and inviting that it was impossible not to feel it too.

(`·.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.-> o.de/seungmin <-.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.·´)

“Baby… I’m begging you to get some sleep,” you whispered, nudging Seungmin lightly. He stirred a bit, lifting his head from your shoulder, eyes squinting at you in sleepy confusion.

“I was getting some sleep,” he mumbled, voice soft and scratchy as he tightened his arms around your waist like you were his personal pillow. He buried his face back into the curve of your shoulder, clearly unwilling to move. The thought of leaving his spot to sleep in your bed without you was, apparently, too insane to even entertain.

“I meant—” you started, but he cut you off.

“I know what you meant,” he murmured, pressing a barely-there kiss to your skin. His words slurred slightly as sleep began to drag him back under. “Now finish your paper so we can go to sleep together, yeah?”

And just like that, his breathing evened out again, settling into a steady rhythm as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapped snug around your waist. He was warmer and much more comfortable than your flimsy desk chair could ever hope to be, and you weren’t about to complain about being the comfiest you’ve ever been while you edited the final parts of your paper.

(`·.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.->junhan/hyeongjun<-.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.·´)

“Babe… I promise I’m… not going anywhere,” Hyeongjun mumbled against your chest, the words barely coherent with how little space there was between his mouth and you.

“Can’t risk you changing your mind,” you replied sleepily, arms tightening around him as you locked your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer.

Hyeongjun let out a dramatic sigh, though the warmth in his voice gave him away. “I am begging you to let me take a deep breath,” he pleaded, but if he was being honest, he wouldn’t mind suffocating like this. If he had to go, being smothered by you was hardly a bad way to leave this earth.

“Fine,” you muttered, loosening your grip just enough for him to raise his head. He inhaled deeply a couple times before you yanked him back down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before nuzzling your face back into your pillow.

Hyeongjun smiled softly, his body melting into yours as your arms found their place around him again, anchoring him in your warmth. While he wasn’t naturally the most physically affectionate person, there was something about the way you clung to him like he was the only thing grounding you that made his heart ache in the best way.

As the quiet settled around you both, one thought lingered in his mind: maybe he didn’t need to breathe that much after all—at least not if it meant losing this. He tightened his hold just around you just a bit, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him to the most content sleep he’d had in ages.

(`·.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.-> jooyeon <-.¸¸.·´`·.¸¸.·´)

“Yuck.”

You and Jooyeon both looked up to see Jungsu standing in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression teetering somewhere between disgust and exhaustion.

“No offense,” he began, gesturing vaguely at the two of you tangled together, “but we didn’t buy a loveseat just so you two could monopolize it 24/7.”

Jooyeon smirked, completely unbothered, and pulled you even closer into him, like he was daring Jungsu to keep talking. “What’s the problem? Is it the lack of loving on the loveseat? We can fix that if you’re into watch—”

“Enough!” you and Jungsu snapped in unison, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence.

“I’m going to my room,” Jungsu announced, already turning to flee. “Goodnight, Y/N. Jooyeon… choke.”

The slam of his door echoed through the apartment, leaving you and Jooyeon alone in the sudden silence. It lasted all of two seconds before you both burst into laughter, Jooyeon’s shoulders shaking as he pulled you fully onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist even tighter, and he rested his chin on your shoulder, grinning against your skin.

“Well,” he said, his voice low and smug, “apparently, he doesn’t like to watch.”

You swatted his arm playfully, laughing even more when he clutched at his chest like you’d just reached inside and took his heart with you.

“You’ve gotta stop rubbing it in that you have someone to cuddle,” you teased softly, absentmindedly threading your fingers through his hair. “You’re going to drive the others insane.”

Jooyeon simply shook his head because at the end of the day, how could he not rub it in?

“If they weren’t so bitchless, they’d have a gorgeous person to cuddle on our loveseat too,” he said casually, shrugging like it wasn’t the most outrageous thing he could’ve responded with. “That’s a them problem though. Me? I’m living the dream.”

[justsomerandomfanfic]

An Amazing First Kiss - Hobie Brown X GN Reader

Title: An Amazing First Kiss

Hobie Brown X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's friend (Mentioned)

WC: 1,651

Warnings: Try at writing a Cockney accent, Reader's nervous, italics, Reader's nervous about first kiss, Hobie is the best boyfriend, hurt/comfort idk?, nicknames, teasing, banter, flirting, mini angst, very brief mentions of lying, and fluff

To cut right to the chase, you were dating the amazing, and super lovable, Hobie Brown. You met him when he was performing with his band at some pub with your friend, and you just couldn't look away from him. His charisma, how easily he seemed to draw people to him, his passion for music, and just the way he’d spot you in the crowd. It made you feel as if no one else existed in the world, except you and him.

His dark brown eyes - even though they were covered by his Spider-Punk mask - had found yours in the crowd. He, too, was unable to look away. The way you softly danced in spot, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your friend's arm linked with yours, your friends jumping up and down with more enthusiasm, but you drew him in; entranced him. It wasn't long until the two of you started seeing each other, going out for dates and whatnot. And it wasn’t long until the both of you started dating, and he revealed his secret identity to you.

Everything was perfect, except that you were very nervous. You were worried that Hobie might want to kiss you soon. And it's not that you don't want to kiss him. You did… You really did. And you would, eventually. But, at the moment, you just weren't ready. But it seemed that Hobie was. Only last week, he tried ‘the lean in’. But you were quick to come up with some sort of excuse. But, it was coming to a point where you hated lying to him and not talking to him about it. You didn’t want him to think that he was doing something wrong or that you weren’t interested or attracted to him.

The first time he tried to lean in, you had been sitting on the couch together, in his loft, watching a movie. Well, you weren't really paying much attention to it, and neither was Hobie.

"'is movie's bit boring, innit?" He muttered, his arm resting over your shoulders, his fingers randomly drumming along your forearm to an irregular beat. 

"Not the best movie I've seen, no," You agreed, glancing at him, "But it's entertaining to a degree."

Looking down at you, he continued, "'is guy a bit of a git 'ough." Hobie randomly gestured towards the screen where the main character was fighting with his brother.

“I agree…” Looking up at him, your words began to trail off when you noticed how close your faces were to one another. Looking into his beautiful brown eyes, you felt your stomach flip flop. However, you began to inwardly panic as he began to lean in. Red, flashing lights blared inside your mind as you froze and jumped out of his arms and off the couch. Letting out an awkward chuckle, you gestured down at your watch. "I have to go... Uh... Feed my cat." You stumbled over your words, making your way to the front door. Opening the door, you turned to give him a nervous grin, "I'll see you tomorrow, love you!"

“Love you…” As the door shut, Hobie let out a deep sigh, falling back upon the couch. Raising his legs up, he propped his feet on the coffee table. Why did you leave like that? And when did you get a cat?

~~~

A couple of weeks later, you were back in Hobie's loft, baking cookies. You hummed along to the song that Hobie was playing on his guitar in the other room, your thoughts drifting elsewhere as you worked. You didn't know how much time passed, or when Hobie stopped practicing, but as his arms wrapped around your waist, you couldn't help but smile. 

"Wha’ are you makin' 'is time?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of your head as you pressed the heart-shaped cookie cutter into the dough.

"I think you know what I'm making, Hobie." You sputtered out a small laugh, "It's quite obvious." 

He let out a small chuckle, before asking, "Well, 'ow many are you makin’ 'en?" 

"About ten, I think? I won't know until I cut them all out." You patted his hand on your stomach briefly, “And you’re not eating them all like last time.”

Hobie hummed as he pulled away from you, his fingers brushing your waist as he did so, causing a shiver to run down your spine; heading to the stove, he grabbed the kettle, "You want some rosy?" He asked, setting the kettle on the burner, and turning it on. 

Glancing over at him, he was already looking at you, leaning against the counter beside the stove, arms crossed. His gaze was warm, and his grin was - as always - breathtaking. You returned his smile, "Sure, thanks. That would be nice. Do we still have Earl Grey?" You asked before going back to the cookies as Hobie went to fetch the milk and sugar, humming softly to himself.

“‘Ave no scooby-doo.” He answered, before searching around in the cupboards, pushing other boxes of tea around until he spotted the Earl Grey, grabbing the tea box.

Reaching over your shoulder, his chest pressed into your side, Hobie grabbed the sugar from the counter near you. Looking up at him, you were surprised to see him still looking at you. There was that look again, the one that made your insides just turn into mush. But, as if in slow motion, he began to lean in. Quickly, you turned to look back down at the cookies, his lips pressing a kiss into your warm cheek; the coolness of his lip ring sending goosebumps over your skin.

Hobie pulled back, titling his head at you, his eyebrows narrowing as you slid the cookies into the oven; pursing his lips. Hobie was beginning to really wonder now. You seemed reluctant to kiss him, which made Hobie wonder if he had done something wrong. Did he do something? Say something? Did you just not want to kiss him? Hobie snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the screeching kettle.

Now, Hobie wasn't one to keep quiet about things bothering him. After pouring both him and you a cup of tea, he joined you on his couch. Setting both the cups on the coffee table, Hobie turned himself in his seat to face you, his arm resting on the back of the couch.

"Let's cut to 'e chase, yeah? 'Ave I done some'nin wrong?" He asked you, a slightly concerned expression crossing his features. 

Your shoulders slumped and a small, sad smile formed on your face as you looked down. "No. You haven't done anything wrong, H." You looked over at him, your sad smile turning into a frown upon meeting his eyes, "I... Uh, I don't think I'm ready to kiss yet." You knew Hobie wouldn’t break up with you because of this, but it was an irrational fear that your brain liked to tease you with.

Hobie, though, tilted his head, looking confused at this response. Noticing your frown, the unleashed tears in your eyes. Hobie moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You melted into his embrace, relaxing in his grasp as you let out a sigh of relief. He gave you a reassuring squeeze. "I 'ough' you just didn't want to kiss me, or some'nin' like 'at." 

You shook your head at his words, nuzzling your face into his chest, "No, I... I just don't think I'm ready to kiss anyone right now... I think sometime in the future I will be ready, I don't want you to think that I just won't kiss you ever."

At this, Hobie chuckled, lightly squeezing your shoulder. "Ya silly, luv." He teased, "You should know 'at it's fine. We ain't rushin' into anythin'. You’re stuck with me. I’m not gonna jus’ up and leave ‘cause you ain’t ready to kiss me."

Nodding your head, you gently pulled yourself out of his embrace, looking up at him. "Thank you, Hobie."

"Anytime, luv." He said, moving to lie down on the couch, opening his arms to you. You gladly climbed on top of him, laying your head on his chest; cuddling with Hobie always felt like home. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm under your ear, a comforting sound that made the world outside seem distant and unimportant. 

Leaning up on your arms, you looked down at him, "You're amazing, you know that, right?" Grinning, he reached up and ruffled your hair, causing you to scrunch up your nose. "Oi, don't mess up my beautiful locks," You laughed, jokingly swatting his hand away.

"An' I'm always amazin’. ‘Ough’ you knew ‘at ‘bout me already." He said with a wink, causing you to giggle. 

Staring down at him, you silently admired him. His dark complexion, chocolate brown eyes, high cheekbones, the piercings on his eyebrow and lip. Suddenly, you had an idea. "Hobie, honey, I’ve got an idea." You stated, grinning.

The tall boy sat up with you, a slight tilt of his head and an intrigued look on his face, "What's 'at?" Shifting on his lap, you leaned forward and took his face into your hands, his cheeks soft under your gentle touch. Giving him a small smile, you leaned forward. You shut your eyes before the tip of your nose bumped into his. Softly, you shook your head, giggling, your nose rubbing against his in an nose kiss. As you opened your eyes again, you saw Hobie staring back at you, his eyes half-lidded. A smirk played across his features, "Wow, luv." He whispered.

"Pretty amazing first kiss, eh?" You joked, your hands dropping from his cheeks, and reaching for his hands; interlacing your fingers with his.

"Oh, very amazin’ indeed." He said, bringing your hands to his lips, and kissing each knuckle. “Maybe even more amazin’ ‘an me.”

~~~

Main Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[gloomskulls]

LIMERENCE PT 2 [tasm!peter parker x reader

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 1

warning(s): dub/non consensual (reader is drunk and drunk people cannot give consent), terribly written smut (i'm a virgin i'm sorry, I have no idea what goes on actually in the bed), oral (fem receiving), drinking, drunk reader, overstimulation, everyone is 18+ here lemme know if I missed any

If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

A/n: I'm sorry this took a whole ass while, it's probs 90% story and 10% smut. Like it's probs shit, the smut's the reason why I couldn't finish this sooner because I had no idea where it was going. Also tried to write 2012 slang, idk if it even sounds right. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else I'm going to turn you into Victoria Heyes from terrifier ❤️🫶/srs

Peter shuffled in his sleep. Tossing and turning. Sleep never found him, how could it? He did something so unforgivable. Having an obsession with someone who barely acknowledges your existence is one thing, but sneaking into her house, completely crossing every single line, and then jerking off to the scent of your panties while imagining you on top of him, riding him as you creamed his cock with your cum.

The air felt heavy and there was an almost stifling silence in his small bedroom, while his mind worked in the manner of a broken machine, looping thoughts.

Every single thing about you — your laugh, the spark in your eyes when you spoke of something you loved, the way you uttered his name — his mind kept replaying like a broken record. Each one felt as fresh as if it had just taken place a moment ago, and each one pulled at something deep within his chest.

He had spent years arguing with himself about what he was doing. He told himself that viewing you from a distance was merely innocent fascination, a little crush. But that had been a lie. What he had done the night before, sneaking into your room was not a mistake; it was a deliberate decision.

Peter was filled with doubts, a regular person would call him lovesick, a creep even. Is she really worth it? Peter admits something he'd been avoiding for a while.

He wanted you.

Not as a classmate. Not as a partner for a stupid project. He wanted you in a way that was raw and desperate and consuming. Oh, he wanted you to look at him the way you look at the rest of the world with trust, with affection, with the same ease that made you laugh at his dumb jokes.

The realization hit him hard. The weight of it sank into his chest like a boulder, but there was a rush of something else too-something darker, more intoxicating.

Peter sat up abruptly, there's only one way or another, heart hammering as he snatched up his phone. Tapping out a quick message, he did so with trembling hands.

"Hey, u free 2nite? Was thinkin maybe we could finish the proj & grab dinner after. My treat. :)"

He stared at the screen, his thumb hovered over the send button. The fear crept back in, whispering in the back of his mind. What if she thought he was crazy? What if she rejected me outright? What if everything he'd built up in his head came crashing down?

Many thoughts crowded his mind, neither of them was good

As he stared at the text, his finger quivered. His stomach tightening in knots. The reply was already forming in his mind—would you say yes? Or perhaps he was weird for asking, for suggesting anything other than school?

But what if he didn't ask? What if he kept on pretending that this crush wasn't eating him up from the inside?

I've got to do this; he tried to steady his breath. This would never come again.

Deep breath and then Peter clicked "send."

Time seemed to stretch into eternity. His mind was racing, spinning out into the worst-case scenarios. You could just say no or even laugh it off and tell him it wasn't a good idea. It's a biology project, after all. That's what it was supposed to be—right?

That crumbled page of biology scraps lay on his desk as evidence of the project you both were working on. It was supposed to be a simple collaboration, probably will last for a few weeks if he was lucky, and then he'd just go back to being invisible to you.

But he didn't want to go back to being invisible.

He sat there at the edge of the bed, hunched over in an awkward position, his elbows rested on the stretched knees, and he stared his phone, convinced that at any moment it would leave his grip. He had typed the message, the own words glowing brighter as he waited.

He had redone it like at least a dozen times, but all versions felt way too casual to too formal. His current message was just right; friendly, innocent enough but still an invite.

What if you think it is strange? What if you don't even reply at all?

He shook his head to stabilize his breathing. It's alright, he told himself. His not asking for something crazy. It's only a dinner.

But it wasn't just a dinner. It was the convergence of years of quiet yearning, stolen glances, and missed opportunities. This was the first real step toward something more, if only he could find the courage to take it.

He shunned his phone flat on the bed thinking that might ease the tension in his chest, but it didn't. His heart raced as seconds ticked by on the clock, each second feeling like an eternally long wait.

What if you didn't reply?

What if you did?

His thoughts were interrupted abruptly as his phone buzzed.

He grabbed it with trembling hands.

"Sure! I'm totally in. Where r we meeting? 7?"

He read the message over and over again: You're saying yes. Relief was an actual weight that was just lifted as disbelief flooded him as he blinked at the screen, rereading the message to make sure it hadn't been imagined.

For a moment, he allowed himself to smile, but it quickly disappeared. Now that he got the answer, a different kind of panic struck.

What happens next?

"Yea 7’s cool, I’ll pick u up @ ur place"

He looked up at the clock-6:30. In thirty minutes, he needed to get ready. Thirty minutes within which he needed to figure out how not to screw this one up completely.

Peter fell out of his chair and quickly rifled through his closet for something fresh and unique that didn't look like it had just been thrown on five minutes ago. His room was strung out in a mess of hoodies and T-shirts that didn't do any good as he tried on piece after piece-each feeling wrong.

"Relax," he murmured at himself while gazing at his reflection in the mirror. Hi hair looked like he just crawled out from under the bed, his face was red, and no matter how many adjustments he attempted on the clothes, he still looked like the awkward kid he'd always been.

Peter raced around his pod-sized room in search of a shirt that didn't scream "high school loser." The bed was a battlefield littered with crumpled hoodies, a checkered flannel, even his Midtown Science Academy T-shirt.

"Peter?" Aunt May's curious sounding voice called out from the hallway.

"Yeah?" he shouted back while looking through his closet and listening.

"Why does it sound like a tornado hit your room? Are you okay in there?"

Peter groaned and threw another hoodie onto the pile he was amassing on the bed. "I'm fine!"

The creaky door slammed open a moment later, and Aunt May peeked her head in. Her sharp eyes traveled the disaster area that was his room, from the piles of clothes, and even down to the one sneaker he was wearing.

"Uh-huh. Fine." She crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What's all this about? A wardrobe crisis?"

He sighed at her and rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing serious, okay? I just… I'm going out."

May raised an eyebrow as her lips twitched as if trying hard not to smile. "Going out? As in… on a date?"

"What? No!" Peter's voice shot up as he spun around, waving his hands. "It's not a date! It's just dinner. For a project. With a friend."

By now, she wasn't even trying to hide her grin. "A 'friend,' huh? Is this the same 'friend' you've been talking about nonstop since this biology project started?"

"I don't talk about her nonstop!" protested Peter, turning into a shade of tomato. "Oh, you definitely do," Uncle Ben countered from outside the hallway and into the room, sporting the knowing smirk of someone who has heard too much. "Half the time, it's, 'Oh, she's so smart,' and the other half is, 'She's so good at this lab thing.'" He said with a dreamy tone

"Okay, okay, so I get it!" he groaned while burying his face in his hands. "Can we not do this now?"

Ben laughed and slapped Peter on the shoulder. “Relax, kid. We are just teasing, and you've got this.”

May walked into the room and picked up one of the forgotten shirts from the bed. Holding it up, she said, "What is wrong with this? Nice but casual, not slobby."

Peter squinted at it. "It's too—I don't know; plain?"

"Plain is better than looking as if you are trying too hard," she said, tossing it to him.

Uncle Ben nodded sagely. "It's right." "You don't want to go full tuxedo on a first—uh, not a date," he added quickly, holding up his hands when Peter glared at him.

Peter huffed but pulled the shirt over his head anyway. "You two are the worst," he muttered, though his tone lacked any real bite.

May smiled and reached out, smoothing the collar of his shirt. "We are not the worst. We are just proud of you. It's good to see you putting yourself out there."

"I'm not—," Peter began, but Ben cut him off.

"You are," Ben said firmly. "That's a good thing. Just be yourself, Pete. If she's as great as you say she is, she'll see what we see, a smart, kind, slightly awkward but very lovable kid."

Peter's face burned. "Yea, you really know how to give a pep talk."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" Ben fired back with a grin.

May handed Peter his second sneaker. "Here. Don't forget this, unless you're planning to really impress her with your one-shoe look."

Peter rolled his eyes but could not quite hide the grin that crept onto his lips. "Thanks, Aunt May."

So Ben called after him as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "And remember, kid—Italian places usually give you breadsticks first. Don't fill up before the main course!"

Peter groaned loudly. "I'm going now! Bye!"

He was there, at your door, heart pounding heavily, as if wanting to burst out from the body. He lingered for a while, staring at the doorbell.

What if this is a mistake?

But before you could think otherwise, the button pressed his finger.

And then echoed the sound of the bell from inside, and Peter felt that the earth would open up and swallow him whole in an instance. He heard footsteps, and then the door opened.

There you were.

"Hey, Peter!" you said, smiling that effortless way that made his breath catch in his throat, stepping aside and gesturing for him to come in. "You're right on time, I just need a minute to grab my bag."

Peter managed a small smile and stepped in, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. "Yeah, of course. Take all the time you need."

You disappeared into another room, leaving Peter hanging awkwardly at your door, his eyes darting about. It was a very warm and inviting house, in harmony with the kind of person you were. The faint hum of a television in another room was muffled, someone talking, and he could hear that easily.

Your presence returned with your bag slung around your shoulder and you ignited the nerves again in Peter.

“So,” you said, smiling at him, “where to?”

Peter hesitated just a beat too long, his mind scrambling to come up with an answer. "Uh, I was thinking Italian? That okay with you?"

"Italian sounds great," you said easily as your smile widened.

Peter's heart raced as you stepped out the door, walking beside him toward the small restaurant a few blocks away. The night air was crisp, and for the first few minutes, he was too caught up in his own head to say much. But then you started talking, asking him about his day, about the project, and the sound of your voice eased some of his tension.

You made him feel like he belonged, even without having a word to say.

When the restaurant came in sight, Peter turned to you. Nerves still there but mixed with something else: a quiet and hopeful excitement.

Maybe just maybe, tonight will be the beginning of something real.

The walk to the restaurant was such a nerve-racking experience. Each step Peter Parker took beside you felt like a step closer to something he wasn't ready (or was actually hoping for). His hands buried deep in his jacket pockets, fingers curling and uncurling, while trying to keep steady pacing alongside you.

But you appeared to be at full ease. You talked about the cool evening, how the trees' leaves were beginning to rustle with the cold wind blowing, and even the faint smell of roasting chestnuts from a street vendor a few blocks away. Peter heard everything, nodded, and punctuated things now and then with the occasional "Yeah" or "Totally," but as for his thoughts, they were running wild within him.

This is well. This is the standard. This is alright, He didn't over hypothesize for the hundredth time.

As much as there was relief in now having something solid to focus on, Peter was panicked that it all became real at that moment.

He opened the door for you, his hand trembling slightly as he held it.

"Thanks," you said, giving him a swift smile before stepping inside.

"Uh, yeah. Of course," Peter mumbled as he hung his head and followed you in.

The hostess took you to a corner besides the glass window, a cozy little spot with a flickering candle in the middle of the table. Peter's hands trembled as he took the chair and gestured you to sit on it.

The menu in front of him could be in another language as he stared dumbly at it, words bringing into a blur while the thoughts buzzing in his head were getting harder to put to rest.

Don't be weird. Just be normal. What does "normal" even mean? Stop overthinking! You've got this!

"This place is nice," you commented as you scanned the menu. "How did you discover it?"

"Oh, um, my aunt used to like it here," Peter said, grateful he could answer such a question. "She says the lasagna is the best."

You grinned. "Aunt May has good taste. I will try that."

He nodded, yes, but could not stop the rush of nervous thoughts flooding his mind. He glanced at the menu as if studying it although he already knew what he would order. But his mind was instead filled with every possible thing he could screw up tonight.

Don't talk too much; don't laugh strangely; don't look like an idiot.

Here came the waiter, and you ordered effortlessly, laced with a polite smile as you handed him the menu. Peter stammered out his order and felt his palms sweat as he gave it. When the waiter walked away, Peter could feel your eyes on him, and it took everything he had to meet your gaze.

"So," you said, leaning in with elbows planted on the table, chin cradled in palm, "what's your thing, Peter?"

"My thing?" he said, taken aback. "Like, my thing?"

"Yeah, like… what do you do for fun? What are you really into doing when absolutely no one else is watching and judging?"

Peter blinked, trying to think of something that wouldn't sound lame. "Uh, well, I like photography," he said. "And science, I guess. Experiments, stuff like that."

You perked up. "Photography? That is cool. What kind of pictures do you take?"

"Mostly city stuff," he said, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. "You know, like weird angles, shadows, reflections. It's probably not that interesting to most people."

"I think it sounds interesting," you said. "I would love to see your pictures sometime."

Peter's heart was pounding so hard. "Really? Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you want."

That made the conversation flow more easily. You told him about your love-hate relationship with math, how sometimes you spent too long procrastinating by watching cooking shows instead of doing your homework, and how one time you tried to make crème brûlée and almost burned your stove.

“I had to open every window in the house,” you said, laughing. “My mom came home and thought I’d burned dinner. I didn’t tell her it was supposed to be dessert.”

Peter grinned, feeling just a little bit more at ease. “Maybe stick to cookies next time, huh?”

“Noted,” you said with a mock-serious nod.

Then it was time to eat. You both started digging into it while still keeping up your conversation. Peter quickly found himself becoming much more relaxed, finding it absolutely easy to talk to you when he didn't over-analyze every word. You burst into laughter each time his jokes finished, and whenever his eye fell into yours, everything around faded.

There was little doubt that he was doing this because he was desperate enough to strike a topic that wouldn't make him sound like an idiot; this was the reason why he asked, "You, uh, good with the whole project?"

You leaned back, fiddled with the napkin on the table, and said, "Yeah, it's actually been fun. Well, I mean, we work well together, and you're much smarter than I had thought."

Peter blinked. "Wait, you thought I wasn't smart?"

"No, I just-" You smirk, it's clear you're enjoying his reaction. "You always seem kinda… busy with stuff, you know? You're not exactly the loudest guy in the room."

"Well, I, uh…" Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm, uh, more of a behind-the-scenes guy. You know, less talk, more… action?"

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Peter felt himself get a little more relaxed. Maybe you weren't judging him.

'This place have wine?' you ask all of a sudden, not looking up from the menu.

Peter blinked. "Uh… I think so?"

You smirked and put your feet up on the table after throwing the menu on it. "Perfect. I could use a glass."

Peter was at a loss on how he should respond. It just didn't seem like the kind of person who would order wine to go with dinner-at least, not in his limited and admittedly romanticized view of you. But when the waiter came by, you ordered an entire bottle without hesitating, barely glancing at Peter for confirmation.

"Um, yeah, sounds good," Peter said weakly, even though the thought of drinking anything stronger than soda made him nervous.

The waiter nodded and disappeared, leaving the two of you alone in an awkward silence.

But the waiter was back again, this time with a bottle and two glasses, which he laid down with a polite smile. And before you knew it, the deep red liquid was already swirling around in your glass because you had poured it in haste from the bottle.

Want some? You asked, already halfway through your first sip.

“Uh, maybe later,” Peter said.

You shrugged and took another long drink before putting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. “Suit yourself.”

The most casual kind of conversation developed between you: you asked Peter about what he was interested in, and he managed to stumble along throwing together great lengthy descriptions about why he loved photography and science, and the words came out too fast for him to think them. It almost seemed like you were listening to him, however, because he went on to nod before even asking follow-up questions, which made him for the first time in a long time feel that he wasn't entirely invisible.

By that time, he was becoming aware, as the hours slipped away, that you were filling up your glass more and more often. The bottle was now half empty when the food came, and you were already sporting rosy cheeks when the alcohol was pouring into your system.

“This is good,” you said, hardly bothering with your plate in order to gesture with your fork at it. "I mean, really good. Good call, Parker.”

The smile that appeared on Peter's face was that of nervousness. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

Now you leaned back in your seat, holding your glass up to the light. "You know, I don't really do stuff like this. I've kind of never had dinner with classmates. It's just a little… weird, you know?"

Peter sank a little. "Weird, how?"

"Not bad weird," you said immediately by waving your hand. "Just… different. Like, generally, I would just be at home watching some lousy reality show and trying to forget how much homework I have to do."

Peter chuckled, even though he had no idea what to say next.

After a sip of wine, the boy looked up at Peter who immediately landed his gaze upon the bottle. You seem well into your first glass with a heightening sense of ease that you appeared to be at his home. Maybe it was because of the wine or perhaps how you were looking at him right now-not with judging spectatorship but with a strange kind of understanding that made him feel as if he were not really out of place.

It was only a count of seconds before the food arrived while you already had a second glass in hand. Peter's stomach flipped at that moment. This wasn't the way he was used to seeing you, all loosened up and speaking without that slight guard he usually saw when you were around. You appeared different tonight, and Peter couldn't quite figure it out if it was a good thing or not.

However, the conversation was still going on, only that as soon as you took a few more drinks, conversations shifted to more profound, much more personal things. Laughter spilled from your lips more freely, although Peter saw that smiles were now somewhat uncontrollable. Maybe it was the wine; maybe it was just the ambience. In any case, he could feel something shifting, like you were letting him see this version of yourself you weren't sure he was supposed to see.

"Peter", you said, looking at him with wide eyes after a long sip. "What's your big dream? Like 20 years from now, what do you see yourself doing?"

He shifted around uneasily on his chair. And that question was sudden, a little more intense than he would have reckoned it to be. He was not used to being asked about his future like this.

"Honestly?" said Peter, leaning back a little and looking down at the half-finished plate in front of him. "I don't really know. I think- I think I want to do something with science, or photography. Maybe combine. Don't know really. Just like, I want to fix things, you know? Help make the world a little less broken.''

You were quiet for a moment, and Peter wasn't sure whether it was because he'd said something wrong or whether you were just thinking. But when you finally spoke, your voice was softer, almost quieter than before.

"I think that's really admirable, Peter."

That was it. That one simple sentence hit him harder than he expected. He wasn't used to compliments like that- not from you, not from anyone. The words were a strange dream, and for a second he just looked dumbfoundedly at you trying to really understand what you mean.

Peter had never imagined the night to go this way. Not even in a million years. But here he was, walking alongside you, swaying slightly on the sidewalk with less steadiness in your step than before. Surprisingly, the wine had hit you faster than he figured, and he wasn't so sure if he should be concerned or just chalk it up to the kind of night it had turned into.

"Hey, I'm-" You hiccupped, laughing lightly at your own clumsiness. "I'm fine, Peter. Really."

But Peter wasn't so sure. His instincts were whipping him into overdrive-the same ones that always made him want to leap into action when something was amiss. "Yeah, I don't think you are," he said, trying to keep it light. "Let me just walk you home, okay? Just to make sure you're good."

But you rolled your eyes, with an almost sheepish smile you gave in, "Fine, fine. I get it. You're worried about me."

"Yeah, I am," Peter said, his voice a little quieter than he intended. "But you're my responsibility right now, okay?"

You exhale a small laugh, and Peter can't help but take note of how completely giddy it sounded, a little like you weren't quite sure where you were or what you were doing. You leaned against him, and then Peter was surprised at how easily you let him help you with that.

The way home was otherwise silent except for the occasional trip and the muttered apologies from you. But Peter didn't mind it, sensing closeness, although strange. Everything was just weird tonight. The brushing of your hand against his as you reached for your keys. That laugh of yours that wouldn't leave his ears. The vulnerability you seemed to wear in your eyes at that moment.

So, then you reached your door, and you suddenly stopped and stood there, fumbling with the keys in your hand. Peter moved closer but silently offered to help. You shook your head.

"I've got this," you said, though your words were slurring just enough for Peter to catch the uncertainty behind them.

After much effort on your part, the door finally opened. You leaned in again, and Peter nearly lost his heart as he had to rush forward to steady you.

"Whoa, take it easy," Peter said catching you as you stumbled. "Let me help you."

You smiled up at him, glassy and unfocused. "I'm fine, Peter," you slurred. "Just a little…tipsy."

Peter chuckled and guided you up the walkway to your front door. "Tipsy, huh? Well, let's get you inside and safe, then."

As you both reached the front door, you fumbled with your keys and Peter had to gently take them from your hand and unlock the door himself. You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

After some time and a couple of tries, she got the door opened.

"Okay, inside," he said, his tone a little more powerful now. You did not resist him as he helped you through the door, but there was a strange sadness in your eyes that twisted Peter's stomach.

You moved slowly to the couch and finally sank down on it; the wine was exhausting. Peter stood near the door for a moment, wondering his next move. He wanted to shoot his shot, his thoughts wandered to somethings more inappropriate. Wasn't this all about getting you safe? Ensuring you did not end up passed out somewhere in a big, messy pile of sheets and regrets.

"Can you just… stay for a bit?" you asked quietly, with barely a whisper.

Peter hesitated. He didn't want to go too far, and he couldn't just leave you here, not looking so…fragile.

"Yes," he spoke softly, entering then into the living room. "I'll stay for a bit"

You nodded at him, gazing at him with tired eyes. "Thank you."

Peter perched on the edge of the couch; his hands awkwardly balanced on his knees. What a strange space there was between you two now, strange in that it was so very close, yet so far away. He wanted to be of some use and ensure you were okay, and yet the way the glance kept coming from you in that direction somehow felt… off. It was like walking on a fine line.

Peter looked at you longingly, you were so beautiful.

Too close and too perfect, he found himself sitting next to you, and Peter felt the pressure of so many things left uncommunicated fill his chest. He needed to do it. He needed to say it.

"Peter?" Your voice was a soft whisper, a little uncertain. Wine had aided this whole relaxing process, yet made almost everything feel slightly out of focus.

Peter swallowed, heart pounding in the chest. He wasn't entirely sure if it was the alcohol that has found narrate in your system, or if it was the raw honesty of the moment, but he knew very well it was now or never, the one chance to say all he had kept bottled up for months.

"Yeah?" he whispered, getting closer so that he was almost against you now.

"It's just that, I… I'm sorry if I've been too much tonight," you said, your words slightly slurring as you allowed your gaze to drift over his face. "I didn't mean to get that drunk."

Peter felt his breath hitch in his throat. "It's fine," he said, his voice softer now. He could feel his palms sweating, his heart racing faster than ever. "I just… I just want to make sure you're okay."

You smiled up at him, but it was a little foggy, and Peter could tell that the wine had dulled your clarity. Still, you were so beautiful, standing there, looking at him with those eyes—eyes that made him feel like he mattered.

Peter took a sharp breath and let a sudden breath of air come out. It was as if a magnet was pulling them together, and he was drawn to it. "So, uh– I was thinking…" He hesitated for a moment, then recovered his composure, trying to calm the trembling in his hands. "I've been thinking about you for a long time. Like, longer than I should have."

His brows knitted further in confusion as Peter quickly realized that the rest of the sentence was failing miserably in getting through your mind, as if the actual words were swimming around in it, suspended in fog. He stepped closer, unable to stop himself.

"If I—" He let out a shaky breath. "You know, I've been loving you for so long now. And tonight, I couldn't hold it anymore and just… broke the dam."

Your expression shifted slightly. Confusion clouded your gaze. You blinked, trying to piece together his words. "Wait, what?"

Peter took a step closer, completely incapable of holding himself back. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and he felt the heat between you intensify. He reached out, his hand brushing gently against your arm. "I love you," he whispered again, barely able to breathe. "I love you so much, and I've been too scared to say it. I've watched you for so long, and I—" Peter stopped mid-sentence as he looked at you, eyes looking like a lost puppy.

"You're so beautiful, so so beautiful" He leaned in, your face was so close to him, his lips brushed against yours. He held your face as he licked your lips.

You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin with just the proximity of Peter's face to yours, and the goosebumps it sent down your spine. Those eyes were filled deeply with a longing expression and captured yours as if drowning you in its depths. There was air that quite vibrated between the two of you, and the heat that seemed to take form could even be felt emanating from his body.

"I wanted to do that for so long," Peter whispered. His voice shuddered with desire. Gentle words falling like a caress to send shivers through you: "Wanted to touch you, hold you, kiss."

His lips brushed against yours when he spoke, making your body spark with electricity. You were pretty much melting into him, as if his very desire were consuming your human body. His lips, soft and gentle, just as firm and insistent. You tasted like wine.

"You're so beautiful" he said as his hands went underneath your dress, his hands inching close to your under garments. He touched your clothed core; he used his index finger to rub your clothed cover clit

You squirmed in his touch, "P-peter" You mewled in his mouth

This just seemed to fuel Peter even more, as he set aside your panties as his smooth fingers rubbed your now exposed core. Peter looked at you, he slowly kneeled as he spread your legs.

He looked at your wet core, as if it was a painting that he couldn't understand. Without warning he then sucked your glistening pearl; his tongue probed the inside of your gummy walls as his fingers rubbed your pearl. You cried out, your body arching up to meet him, and Peter felt a surge of excitement. He was in control now, and you were at his mercy.

He knew it was wrong, you were drunk after all, but he couldn't help it, this was his only chance.

He licked and sucked at your clit, his fingers plunging in and out of your dripping wet pussy, you cried out in ecstasy, your hands tugging at Peter's hair. But he didn't care, all he cared about was your dripping we cunt.

Anticipation dwells in the coiling mouth against your body, sending shivers along your spine. Every inch of you is lulled into stimulation by his gentle probing, drawing near to a soon-to-be-hidden insistent demand. You can feel that hot air glazing across your skin, soft scraping with teeth, and relentless pressure from his lips, all of which accompanies his tongue.

Your hands are clenched while he works, fingers digging into the sheets or perhaps his hair, holding him there. Your hips jerk primitively, as though to push him deeper and encourage more pressure, while your breathing makes raspy sounds mixed with soft mewls of pleasure.

One hand is busy at your hips, molding you solidly into place, while the other slips only up over the curve of your waist before settling over your breast.

You feel yourself immersing in the sensation as your focus is honed into one. The only critical thing is the feeling of his mouth on you. The whole room begins to fade away, and you're left with only the slushing wet sounds he makes and your breathless gasps, groans, and cries.

Peter on the other hand felt like he was in cloud nine, his mouth was now fully covered in your arousal, but he didn't care. He continued lapping at your cunt, accompanied with his middle finger thrusting in and out of you.

As the intensity rises, so do your frantic movements: the hips jerk and thrust as though reaching toward some ill-defined height. His mouth is a scythe-like blur of tongue lashing and probing until the pressure builds and you're all quivering trembling muscles, precariously balanced on a knife edge of release.

Your mouth is wide open, frozen in a silent scream on your lips, and your entire body starts quivering at the moment of release.

Then silence engulfs the outside world; its only inhabitants are trapped in a silent world of raw lust. His mouth is a furnace, raging, and threatening to engulf you completely, but you lean into the flames, thirsty for the intense heat that only he can provide. Your skin is slick with sweat, your heart thundering like a runaway train as your body builds toward the inevitable climax.

Your cries intensify as tension rises, a mournful cry into this frantic air, a scream savage, echoing off the walls as your body strains towards that release. Your muscles quivering.

Before you knew it, it almost hit you like rough wave of pleasure.

His cock twitched, his balls tightening with anticipation, as he felt the warmth of her your release in his mouth. That alone could make him cum his pants. He had never been this close to a woman before, and the thought of exploring your body was almost too much to bear. And here he was doing exactly just that.

You were beautiful to Peter, but you looked ungodly when you were in a state of release. The way your chest would heave up and down, how your mascara was running down your eyes, and your lipstick smudged on the side of your face.

"You're so beautiful" he said, barely even above a whisper.

"P-peter— OH MY GOD!"

He suddenly took a long slow stripe of your pussy, as if savoring everything, but then stopped when his tongue reached your clit. He sucked on your little pearl as if it was lollipop.

You moaned loudly as your back arched and your toes curled, "P-peter" You whimpered

The way he was sucking on your clit, along with his fingers that was thrusting deep inside you. It made it nearly unbearable. The last few moments or so almost sent you spiraling into one of those severe orgasms that made you see stars on your ceiling.

Loud moans slipped from your mouth, you wondered if your parents were at home, what if they see their sweet girl falling apart underneath the so-called weird kid of your school.

Your hips bucked against his mouth, trying to ease the bittersweet pleasure he was giving you. "P-peter, oh god, stop, I c-can't take it anymore" you begged in a voice very nearly a whisper. Body trembling, your hands reached instinctively for his hair, holding him.

He continued his performance on your clit. A familiar knot kept building inside you. Suddenly, the moans turned into loud gasps, and your body began to shake uncontrollably. P-peter, I…I think I'm going to come again" you finally whisper. To that, he only sucked harder, licked harder, his fingers falling on a rhythm with his tongue swirling relentlessly on your sensitive spot, bringing you to sweet agony. Your back arched up, you gasp while screaming, "P-PETER!"

Heaving and shaking with each pulsing moan, you lay there with your body's hypersensitivity after such intense pleasure receding. Finally, Peter raised his head. That satisfied smile on his face was testimony to your ability to elicit such feelings from him. And with his eyes, he stared at you, every flicker of lust speaking volumes about what was crossing his mind. Then he kissed near the center of time in your inner thigh, his lips dragging softly, and then moving to lie with you at the side of the couch

Peter's smile slowly faded as he noticed your catch of breath, replaced with a show of real concern. He stroked your hair as he gazed into your eyes. "That was intense," Peter said. "You're shaking." His voice was tender, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "Time to get you to bed, all right?"

He managed a slowly rise from the couch while extending his hand forward towards you. You grasped onto it and found your balance shaky; nonetheless, Peter assisted you toward leaving the living room, down the hallway, and into your bedroom.

Peter opened your door slowly, revealing the bedroom from that night. Snap out of your thoughts Parker!

The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room. Peter placed you carefully at the edge of the bed. He knelt down to remove your shoes and started undressing you slowly and carefully. He threw the covers over you as you laid back in bed, tucking you in like a young child.

"Rest," he whispered as he brushed his lips against your forehead. "Sleep, I'll be here when you wake." He sat beside you, stroking your hair with his hand. Your eyelids began to feel heavier, and weariness, along with all the forms of pleasure, finally overtook you. Peter was the last person you remember as you slipped into slumber, where upon you felt the warmth beside you that offered the source of a much-needed sense of safety.

@gloomskulls 2024, DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE OF MY WORKS IN ANY OTHER WEBSITE. Photos don't belong to me

[jules-ln]

I've seen a lot of people say that Viktor was controlled/corrupted by the hexcore and that's why he did everything

But personally I don't think that's the case

Like maybe... getting convinced by it, like the friend that just keeps telling you "yes! That's a great idea", but not controlled. Viktor always had it in him to do that, even in s1

Let me explain

Viktor is this character that I don't think I get completely, so I keep thinking about him. But I see people say "Oh, he's getting controlled because Viktor isn't like this at all" or "that's not Viktor" and the thing is; I don't agree

I think Herald Viktor is the real Viktor, same as s1 Viktor, it has always been him 100%

First we don't actually know how Viktor is with most people. Most of the time we see him, he's interacting with Jayce, and I think we can admit that Viktor has a lot of affection for Jayce

But we see him interacting with Mel briefly And I always found funny how he reacts when she brings up the hextech weapons, all dramatic and offended, he's like "Absolutely not!" But then he "calms down" as soon as he sees that Jayce isn't supporting him, he even looks a bit sad

I'm mentioning this because of how different he acts with Ambessa later when she asks him for an immortal army; he agrees with everything she wants, of course he won't give her that, he just wants to trick her into helping him, but it does makes me think that had he been alone when Mel started asking about building weapons, or had he known that Jayce wouldn't support him, he probably would've acted in a similar way to how he was with Ambessa, agreed with everything Mel wanted to get her off his business while he thought of another solution

And my point with this is, I think a lot of people assume that Viktor is an innocent little angel that is always honest and just wants to do good; but we only see him being honest with Jayce (most of the time); because he truly trusts him (tbf he's also honest with Singed, but I think he probably has affection for him as well); with the rest of the world Viktor is more than able to lie and manipulate to get what he wants; he isn't necessary a 100% good perfect person

Now, let's looks at how Viktor acts in the commune, because I think everyone can agree independently of whether you think the hexcore was controlling Viktor, that at this moment Viktor is still pretty much in control of himself and his actions

There's this comic called "a perfect life" about LoL Ekko, where Viktor is the antagonist; it has an oddly similar plot to the second season of arcane, (apparently this comic is from 2023 and by that time Arcane s2 was probably on the last part of production, so Idk why it's similar, but anyway!) In the comic, there's a rich dude offering free prosthetics (augmentations? Let's be honest they are futuristic prosthetics) to the people of Zaun, and everyone goes to get one part of their bodies replaced with technology willingly. Then later it's revealed that Viktor is the one actually doing all the surgeries lmao

But that got me thinking, Viktor in LoL doesn't need better morals, he needs better PR!

Because, people want Viktor's help, the only part they don't like it's the losing humanity and free will, which, understandable

But then, why does everyone still go to Viktor in the series? Because he isn't saying the whole truth

When Ambessa asks him if he could inhabit his followers, Viktor simply says they all share one mind and that it was part of his glorious evolution. He doesn't act surprised, It doesn't seem like he didn't know, he simply shrugs and is like "Yes, this was part of what I wanted"

But he never said that to his followers? When Vi and Jinx are talking to Viktor about healing Vander, Viktor never says "oh, btw, if I do this, your dad is going to lose his individuality and become part of my hive mind, hope that's ok :)". No, he simply says that he'll do what he can to heal him.

And again, you could argue that he lied because the hexcore was controlling him, but I still think that lying was 100% Viktor's choice and the only thing the hexcore could do or did was suggest him to do so

Why am I so sure Viktor wasn't controlled in this moment?

Remember when Viktor first meets Vander, Sky; who is very heavily implied to be the Hexcore, tells him to not save him because it would be too taxing to do so for Viktor. And he says no, that he wants to help Vander, because he thinks Vander it's worth it.

And I think that's all the power the Hexcore has over Viktor, suggest certain things, but at the end Viktor it's still on control; because if Viktor is the Hexcore's host, then it would be very detrimental for both of them if Viktor lost all his energy, both of them could die if that happened; yet Viktor ignored it for Vander's sake

So the lying by omission he did with his commune, if it wasn't his idea, it was something he 100% agreed with. And again, Viktor isn't 100% innocent, he's an intelligent man that knows how to lie and manipulate and will do so if he thinks it's necessary

(Which makes it so old Viktor in LoL is more honest than Arcane Viktor and that's so funny to me lmao)

Now, I know people say that Herald Viktor it's a corrupted version of Viktor, but I don't think so. Not corrupted, but something Viktor always had the potential to be. Herald Viktor was the version of him with the most control over his actions and surrondings; he's the Viktor that was always inside him, the person he would've been if he didn't feel limited by his own body, by his social status, by where he was born, and this shows on how this parallels Jayce's arc

I've seen a lot of people saying that Jayce went through what Viktor had to suffer, having to climb up from the deepest parts of Zaun with a hurt leg to the top of Piltover, only that with Jayce it was literal. But I saw someone on tiktok (I don't remember the account and I can't find the video anymore, sorry :( ) pointing out that Viktor also had to go through what happened to Jayce in the first season

In the first season, Jayce was a scientist with a pretty face and charming personality that was seduced by power, he was suddenly given a lot of it, and instead of holding onto his ideals, he turned away from them. He became a corrupt politician and then used that power to betray Heimerdinger, someone who was very important to him. Later he thought himself judge, jury, and executioner and that resulted in a child from Zaun dying

Viktor finds himself in a similar position, a scientist with a healthy perfect body that was suddenly given a lot of power, he became the leader of a community, someone people looked up to for guidance and help. And then after Jayce rejected him he also thought he was judge, jury, and executioner with the right to do whatever he wanted because he was right and everyone else was wrong. The problem being that Viktor had way more power than Jayce ever did

So, if anything Viktor wasn't being corrupted by the Hexcore, the thing that seduced Viktor was power over other people

And you could say "Viktor during the first season wasn't like that at all" but it's easier to be a good person when you don't have the choice to harm others

Another point to add it's that Arcane is a series that uses a lot of visual storytelling, if you just hear the dialogue you are missing 50% percent of the story at the very least; it trusts you to see what's going on

Now, after Ekko throws the Z drive at him and breaks the mask of the Arcane Herald; we can see the real Viktor underneath

I think this is why a lot of people think the Hexcore was controlling Viktor because we see the Arcane Herald, then we see "real" Viktor underneath, but that's not necessarily the case. In that moment we see half of Viktor's face, but look at what we can exactly see; his whole mouth and one eye are visible

Viktor is seeing what's going on, he understands what is happening around him; but he isn't seeing the whole picture, hence why it's only 1 eye. But his mouth is completely uncovered, whatever he says, that is 100% Viktor no doubt

And if Viktor was truly being controlled by the Hexcore/arcane/void/whatever, that would be the perfect moment for Viktor to snap out of it. For Viktor to say "this isn't me" and fight to get away from the corrupting force

But that isn't what happens, what happens is that Viktor is confused by Jayce's insistence and he says "Why do you persist? After everything I've done" this isn't Viktor saying "oh, I'm being controlled, help" this is him saying "I've done horrible things, why don't you hate me?"

So, Viktor was 100% aware of what was happening, he understood that what he was doing was wrong, and he still did it anyway

To add to this, there's this meme about Arcane that said something like "when in Arcane somebody is robbing banks and killing people the songs will start saying "oh, I'm robbing banks and killing people"" and that's true, and sometimes it's funny; but other times it's useful because the songs say things we aren't seeing

The line is 100% Viktor's song; it's the song that's playing as he erases Vander's memories (and the memories of the rest of his followers as well probably) and decides to give in and transform into the Herald

Once again, if the Hexcore was controlling Viktor, I think the song would've said something like "there's demons in my head" or "I can't help myself"

But no, the line is about someone, in this case Viktor; thinking about the consequences of his actions and if he's ready to accept them

The part where it says

"Honestly

I thought I was fully prepared for

The threshold in store

Stay your pretty eyes on course

I guess I never really faced my fears before

So stay with me because"

For me it's Viktor basically saying "I thought I was ready for the world (Jayce) to hate me; but I'm not so sure if I can face my fears of being alone"

Again, it's not about him not being in control, it's about him knowing that what he's doing is wrong, and that there'll be consequences, but he isn't sure if he's ready to deal with them

Then later, when Jayce shows him what mage Viktor saw; I think for him it was like himself confirming what he already thought or had an idea of what was going to happen, the consequences aren't worth it

After that, when we see Viktor again, this time he is fully visible, with both eyes uncovered because he can finally see the whole picture

But now that I've said that I don't think he was being controlled the question remains, then why was he doing all of that?

And this is more my interpretation of Viktor's story more than anything that happens in the show

So, look at Viktor, he was born in Zaun, disabled, sick, poor; but he managed to climb out of the undercity to Piltover going beyond the social structures that held him back, and even then, he only ever managed to be an assistant to Heimerdinger. That wasn't what he wanted, he himself says it, he was capable of so much more. And I think that Heimerdinger made the mistake of not believing (maybe not on a conscious level) that Viktor could be more; then along comes Jayce; and listen, if Viktor was the only one who truly believed in Jayce, I think the opposite it's also true, Jayce was the only one who believed in Viktor's true potential

Now put yourself in Viktor's shoes, nobody has ever believed in you, you had to drag yourself to the top; then you died and were brought back to life by this monstrous thing that you created that killed an innocent bystander, so you decided to run away to try to make your dream of helping people come true and redeem yourself (because the commune was that for Viktor, his dream of the glorious evolution) just for the only person who truly believed in you, probably the most important person in your life, coming back and rejecting you? I too would want to tear apart the world piece by piece

And the funny part, it's that Viktor is 100% using logic to justify his very irrational decision; no he isn't doing it because he's hurt, he's doing it because he wants to help people! He wants to stop suffering and the best way to do that is to erase free will

That's why I think what Viktor said after being confronted with Jayce in the Astral plane is so important "Why do you persist? After everything I've done" in my mind, after Jayce's rejection, he decided to give up and to do the bad thing; he knew it was wrong, but he decided to do it because he was hurt and wanted to hurt back, then he justified it by saying it was what it was necessary to do

And the funny part is that Singed already explained Viktor's motivation during the series "Why does anyone commits acts others deem unspeakable? For love"

Also, my last point on why I don't think it was Viktor being controlled or corrupted by the hexcore; simply because it would be very boring to do so lmao

Like, if Viktor was being controlled, suddenly a lot of what makes him interesting and complex is gone. So I prefer to think it was Viktor all along, that he always had it in him to do horrible things

[ro-bee]

Hi!

Could maybe say something more about your Goat Realm?

What is story of Puppy narinder here?

What heretics look like here and how are they behaviour? (I'm curious about it because I love these beans. I'm all ears to any littlest detail)

How other bishops look like?

And anyway anything. I'm all ears to all ramble!

Drink your water!

HELLOOO

It is time for the goatverse yap section ! Everybody cheers!!

Anyway little disclaimers :

1_ is very work in progress... Unfortunately all my focus is on those two gay furries and not much on the world so I don't have many drawings to show :(

2_ it's heavy... And I mean there are strong themes and stuff (I'm not gonna go in details here) ... You'll see it better when I finish one of my many projects but it will require a lot of time... Like a lot, sorry... Anyway :)

Goat's world is very harsh. Here we live by the philosophy of kill or be killed very often, despite that there are some people that manage to live in piece and tranquility (example: goat's family and people that don't venerate any specific bishops or that venerate Kiran)

The world is ruled by the 5 bishops (these design are still concepts expect our beloved wolf lol)

Four of them command on different regions, Kiran being the god of death rules the purgatory

He doesn't have many followers like his siblings but he prefers it like that, it doesn't really matter to him because people souls would end up to him anyway.

His siblings have more of an evil alineament, they use their godhood for bad often, taking entertainment on their followers pain. Kiran is the opposite and witnessing his followers suffering fills him with sorrow, that's why he always gives his followers a painless death, is the last he can do for them... After all their souls gives him power :)

Anyway I think I already explained kiran's plan here , tldr bro is sad people suffer so he thinks that killing everything is a good solution

A little thing I want to add to kiran's backstory thing (idk):

I think that unfortunately we're not gonna have a ratau in this world, since Kiran's objective is to get rid of pain with putting everyone's soul to rest I think he won't let any previous vessel go away after failing (I'm not doing this because I hate ratau, he's my dad I love him so much)

So goat had no guide in what they were doing

Heretics here are just like regular heretics(?), if you wanted to know more about their design unfortunately I don't have anything with them :( I have some sketches in the comic I'm working on but I need to keep it as a surprise

Most of them are just regular people that want to survive...

Talking about people who want to survive:

Goat wasn't always this fucked up in the head, this whole deal changed them for the worst. Before the crown they lived a normal peaceful life with their family, when they lost everything they were forced to learn how to fight back to survive. So they spent many years running away and fighting back, they felt terrible at first but then it started to feel normal, almost enjoyable. Getting the crowns powers made killing people fun for them so yeah lol this is the evolution of goat going from calm Lyra player to killer machine, they have a loooooot of anger issues lol.

About the bishops... I'm currently drawing them better and they still have no name right now...

Their personality is the opposite of the canon one basically

The leshy is calm less impulsive

The geko is a prudent and a bit coward

The kraken is fearless and violent

The scorpion is ruthless and impulsive

Kiran is their older brother and loves them very much!! the feeling is not very mutual but anyway :)

I need to work a little bit more on them ngl

Aaaand I think this is all? Hmm idk feel free to ask more :)

[francisofthespook]

Daryl SFW Alphabet !!

I'm leaving for a roadtrip tomorrow and idk how active I'll be so here's a little something I wrote today. Writing this def gave me some good ideas for some oneshots... :)

Words: 3,291 (including the prompts)

Warnings: None really, mostly fluff/ one teeny tiny little mention of suggestive content but it's literally like half a sentence/maybe some allusions to violence

Template from: https://the-coldest-goodbye.tumblr.com/sfw-template (@the-coldest-goodbye )

((I only proofread this once so I may go back in and edit it if I find any mistakes))

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

At first, Daryl, would be super affectionate, but only in private. He might interlock a pinky with you while you’re all around the campfire at the quarry and the farm, but when no one else is around he would be so mushy. Maybe later on, around the time they get to Alexandria and they begin to feel some safety and stability, he would be a bit more affectionate in public. He would place his hand on the small of your back and stand close to you while you talk to the Alexandrians to subtly let them know you were taken, and maybe he would kiss your temple before he or you went out on a run without the other.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Daryl would be your best friend at first. He would always find a way to make you laugh, even if he wasn't really trying to. He would bring you little things he finds while he's out hunting like pretty flowers and rabbit's feet for good luck. He would always stick up for you when the group makes you feel like your suggestions are stupid. There would be a slight shift pretty soon into the friendship though where he realizes that he wants something more. He wouldn't say anything, he would wait for you to make the first move, or at least until he was pretty positive you felt the same way. He wouldn’t want to risk ruining your friendship if you didn't feel the same way. He would happily be your friend for the rest of your lives if that's all you could give him.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Y E S! Daryl loves cuddles, there is nothing that makes him feel more loved than at the end of the day, regardless where you are, when you guys lay down and you curl up into his arms. He would usually stay awake for a little longer than you to make sure that it was safe…( totally not because he loves watching how your face relaxes when you finally fall asleep…) (and definitely not because your little snores warm his heart so much…) (and for sure not because he is enamored by the cryptic mumbling you do in your sleep, always trying to stay as still and quiet as possible so he can try and decipher what you're saying…)

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

There is nothing Daryl wants more than to be able to settle down with you. But given the state of the world, it wouldn't be easy for a while. Sometimes at night, before you get to Alexandria, he would almost tear up watching you fold your clothes and arrange your shared tent, longing for some normalcy in this world so that he can just enjoy his life with you instead of having to fight for it every day.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Early on in your relationship, Daryl might try to leave you a few times. Not because he has fallen out of love, but because he’s worried you're too good for him. He thinks so little of himself and that you deserve better than him. Sometimes just a small thing can trigger this thinking and he will go off into the woods for a while to try and work through his thoughts. But you always find him and tell him that you don’t want anyone else, only him. Once he finally feels comfortable enough in the relationship, there is absolutely nothing that can tear you apart. The only thing that would end the relationship, is if one of you dies.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Daryl had never envisioned himself settling down and getting married. But when you guys get together, he is so overwhelmed by his love for you that he kinda starts to want that. Of course, it isn't really a possibility now, but he would find you a ring one day while out on a run and bring it back to you. He would walk you down to the edge of the prison yard where no one can see you and lay with you in the grass for a while before he rolls over and gently grabs your wrist, lifting it up and slipping the ring onto your finger. “Daryl Dixon, are you proposing to me?” you would say in a smug tone. “Dun need a ring to know I’m yers, but thought it would look pretty on ya” You wouldn't say much after that, not wanting to ruin the moment. This world was filled with so many uncertainties that it was scary to get so close to someone. But at the same time, the ring would become a symbol to you of what you were fighting for, a world where you could just be safe and have a happy life with your partner.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Typically, Daryl is the biggest softie around you, ‘no’ is not a word in his vocabulary when it comes to you. He would be so careful with you that it almost sometimes frustrated you. But when it came to your safety, he would be a bit more firm, blatantly telling you ‘no’ when you ask to come on a riskier run. He would not take any chances, so sometimes he was a bit more rough when he really had to put his foot down. But you knew that he was only like that because he cared so much so it doesn’t really bother you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Being hugged by Daryl would be one of your favorite things in the world. He would engulf your entire body like a warm blanket and hold you firmly close to him. He would always put one arm around your back, the other holding your head while he leaned his own into your shoulder. Sometimes he would gently rub your back in soothing circles while he embraced you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear when no one else was around.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It would probably be a while before Daryl told you he loved you, but he would have known it for a long time before actually saying it. He would probably wait for you to say it first, not wanting to scare you off by making things more serious. As much as he would want to make a big deal about it, his anxiety would get the best of it and he would probably say it in passing one day, without bringing too much attention to it. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Only God himself could save someone from the wrath of a jealous Daryl. It was never something that he really had to deal with while you guys were on the road, maybe a few times here and there, but let's just say that the guys you ran into who made remarks won't ever make them again. When you get to Alexandria, he would have to reel in his rage a bit more, given these were people you would have to live with. But there would definitely be a few guys who suffered a fist to the face when they looked at you a certain way. The residents of Alexandria picked up pretty quickly that you were off-limits.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Daryl would kiss you alllll the time. He would kiss your head a lot since he’s much taller than you and there wasn't much privacy in the early days. You guys would never get into anything too passionate in public obviously, but behind closed doors, it was like he was the thirstiest man alive and you were the last drop of water left on earth. Before he would leave for a run he would hold the sides of your head with both hands and press a long kiss into your forehead before giving you a small peck on the lips. 

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children make Daryl a little uncomfortable at first. He never really knew how to act around them and what not to say. But over time he would grow very fond of Judith and RJ. When you guys get to the Commonwealth, you would basically adopt them. He would treat them like his own, playing with them when he had time off and reading them books in the evening. He wouldn’t want kids of his own, which was fine because you wouldn't either, but he would be more than happy being the appointed guardian of Rick's kids for the time being.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Much to your dismay, Daryl was a morning person. In Alexandria and the Commonwealth, he would get up early in the mornings and make you something to eat while you slept a little while longer. He would quietly slip into your room and gently wake you up before handing you the plate of whatever he threw together. You guys would just sit in bed for a bit while you ate and talk about what you had to do for the day. Usually, he would eventually have to go do some sort of work, so he would tuck you back in and give you a kiss on the forehead before heading out and letting you catch a few extra hours of rest.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

In the evenings, you would cuddle up close to each other while you would whisper stories from your childhood. Over time, this nightly routine would become an exchange of stories, and he would share a few short memories from his own childhood. When you both eventually either ran out of stories or simply began to forget them, you would both talk about the future. What your imaginary house would look like, and how many cats you would adopt. When you had those talks, he would end them by leaning close to your ear and whispering “one day”, before giving you a kiss and drifting off to sleep.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Figuring out Daryl would be like trying to put together a puzzle with pieces you find hidden around a maze. Every once in a while he would drop a little tidbit about himself and you would memorize it and store it away, placing another piece in the slowly growing puzzle until you eventually begin to see the picture. Each time you would reference something he had told you before, or picked up something for him on a run that reminded you of a story he told you, he would fall deeper and deeper in love. It was the little things that meant the most to him, he was never one for grand gestures.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

To this day, the group still cannot comprehend how well he’s able to keep his patience with you. There were more than a few times that you made dumb mistakes, or got hurt, but he rarely broke. Sometimes, he would crack just a tiny bit when you did something that could've gotten you injured, but he would take a deep breath to calm himself down before apologizing and reminding you that he's not upset, he just doesn't want you to get hurt. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

You would begin to think that Daryl knows you better than you know yourself. Not only did he remember every single thing you ever told him, no matter how big or small, but he also became an expert in analyzing your every move. He could spot your emotions sometimes before you even understood what you were feeling, always knowing how to approach you and talk to you based on your mood and expressions. You wouldn’t realize it at first, but when he begins to bring you little things like candy you mentioned once that you used to like, or your favorite color sweater, you knew he was in deep. No one had ever made you feel more loved or more seen than he does.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

He would probably just enjoy all the quiet moments you were able to have together. Maybe his favorite would be the day you both went out to an empty field near Alexandria, devoid of walkers and had a picnic in the grass. You laid around for a while, watching the clouds pass by before you realized that he was watching you and not the sky. “What?” You stifled a laugh and asked him. “Nuthin’. You're just so beautiful” You blushed a deep red and that only made him grow more enamored. He wasn't able to help himself, he leaned over and kissed you. He knew it was risky, but his need for you overtook him and you made lazy love in the field.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

In his mind, Daryl’s number one job is keeping you safe. Yes of course, he cared greatly about the group’s safety, but you were always top priority. Hell hath no fury like Daryl when he’s coming for someone who hurt you, on the rare occasion that they got through him. He would die for you in an instant, no hesitation. It would worry you, how much he risked his own life to keep yours safe, but you knew that it was a moot point. There was nothing you could say or do to convince him to back down. He would protect you until he was no longer breathing.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Daryl has never really been in a relationship before, so he doesn't know what to do. He's constantly asking Carol for ideas of gifts, dates, and small kindnesses he can do for you to show how much he loves you. She would tell him that he just needs to follow his heart and do whatever feels right, not try to force it. On the rare occasion that you had the time and safety, he would plan little dates. Taking you out to a spot that he had cleared the day before while telling everyone else you were going on a run. He would give you little handmade bracelets, trinkets he found while he was out, and cook for you as often as he could. But would feel like no actions could ever portray how much he loves you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

You would be frustrated by how quick he would be to defend your honor. Even when someone would say something so small and insignificant, if Daryl thought it was an insult, fists would begin flying. But secretly, you loved how defensive he was of you. And you had to admit, it was pretty funny seeing Spencer whimper and scurry away from Daryl whenever they locked eyes, it's a shame his nose never did heal right.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Daryl doesn't care at all how he looks, unless he thinks that you don't like something. He would let you cut his hair when it got too long, and trim his beard when it got unruly, but you thought he was perfect just the way he is so he was content with himself. He would be a little insecure about his scars when you guys first get together, but it wouldn't take too long for him to feel comfortable enough with you to take off his shirt.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

When Daryl was without you, it was like a piece of his heart was missing. He would constantly be on edge and anxious to get back to you. He had fallen so hard, it would be actually impossible for him to exist without you anymore. Runs were hard, especially when he would be gone for a week or more, but he would keep a little polaroid photo of you in his vest pocket to try and fill a tiniest bit of the void that you left. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Daryl would write you notes. Whether it be a sticky note on your pillow in the morning when you woke up telling you that he had run to Ricks and would be back soon, or a note he slipped into your backpack before you left for a run telling you to be safe, and that he would miss you and couldn't wait for you to get back. When he is working on the bridge, he sends you letters by ‘mail’, making whoever is running back and forth to Alexandria drop it off on your porch. These letters would be longer, detailing what all they had done that day and how much he missed you. You would write letters back to him and every time he saw the courier coming up on the camp, he would rush over and grab your letter before retreating back into his tent to read it. He keeps all of them in a small box hidden under his bed, and sometimes when he can't get to sleep at night, he’ll read them for a while until he's able to drift off.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Daryl wouldn’t like it when you wore makeup. Sometimes you would find an old tube of concealer or eyeshadow while you’re out and you would take it home and wear it for a bit. He didn't necessarily think it looked bad but he thought you were beautiful just the way you were, so he would tell you that you didn’t need it and sometimes try to hide it so you can't use it again. Although, he did love it when you got wine drunk and put on your reddest lipstick and gave him kisses all over his face and chest while giggling and telling him how much you love him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Daryl is such a blanket hog. When he first falls asleep he cuddles up next to you and holds you close, but as the night goes on he begins to slightly toss and turn, and usually he ends up taking the covers with him. It wasn’t unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night to a chill breeze and see Daryl on the other end of the bed with the covers half hanging off his side, half wrapped around him like a cocoon. He would always feel bad when he woke up and saw you were uncovered, so eventually, he would find an extra large blanket that covered you both, no matter how much he moved around.

[macknshift]

THE ONE WHERE . . . I INTRODUCE Y'ALL TO LEO!

SOOOO…i have mentioned leo in like, 90 different posts atp and never actually made a "leo intro" (mainly bc i have weird feelings ab sharing him heavily to the rest of the world lol) but! i figured now would be the best time to get into explaining him to y'all.

LEO , commonly given the last name SCOTT (depends on the dr!) is actually originally the main character's love interest in a hockey romance book i've been in the process of writing. after getting #sickandtired of annoying ass book men i gave up and began drafting one of my own. the main character is literally me (i mean, for christ's sake her name is sloane mackintosh,) and eventually, i began thinking of him in other "au"s (i used to do this a lot on wattpad - i mean DRs but the term AU is usually more digestible to ppl that may not be aware of reality shifting. Anyways.) and began kind of placing him in everything. a list of the drs he is my love interest in is follows;

BETTER CR : (fc silasj2004*) the hockey romance book pretty much as a dr. small changes occur but basically he's the exact same as leo in the book lol

PARENT DR : (fc jack schlossberg. yes. i am one of those girlies. i am not ashamed! at least he has morals + a backbone y'all this could be much worse) the "backstory" is my better cr dr. i'm now a mother of 3 (amelia or mimi, aged 5, giselle or gigi, aged 4 and i'm pregnant with vincenzo, our final kid,) and it follows our life after what would be the events of the book. i sort-of made it also as like a WAG dr in a sense bc leo is a professional hockey player! (but he retires 2 years before this point in time so idk where my thought process is w this lol)

FORMULA 1 DRIVER DR : (fc pato o'ward MY!!!! mclaren man ln4 U ARE NOTHINGGGGGGG) leonardo dempsey, son of actor patrick dempsey (my forever celebrity crush ugh he's so fine) and driver for aston martin aramco f1 team under #99. i essentially took l*nce str*ll's daddy's boy backstory and gave it to leo bc he is indeed a daddy's boy. the only dr leo and i are enemies to lovers bc i'm too obsessed w him otherwise LMFAO

MARVEL DR : (fc marcello hernandez (MY MAAANNNN)) leo scott, secretly the speedster superhero 'comet'. hired by my dad as essentially a bodyguard (leo's not intimidating AT ALL idek how the hell this is supposed to work LMFAO) as comet and knows me out of costume as his sister's roommate (mj is also in every dr ever and actually is here in this cr. i can never leave her out i love her DOWN) basically marichat vibes (god i miss marichat)

POP STAR DR : (fc marcello hernandez, again) leo sinatra, nepo baby great-grandson of frank sinatra (there's a whole, incredibly large bit of lore ab this LMFAO + he's also a great-grandson in my better cr dr too bc i need my man RICH!) and Saturday Night Live cast member. basically i go on snl and immediately fall in love. i've stolen the 'unlikely couple' weekend update sketch for us & he does domingo, which is my song lol we're funny for it idk

THE FCS, in color photos:

i'm missing like, 18 other drs that i can think of but some important info about him;

he's half oaxacan mexican. i've tried my damnedness to find a way to make it obvious but when i was 'designing' him (aka drawing him out) i used jack, silas (*NOTE: he is leo's typical fc if i don't have an designated one for him) and marcello as references to make him look the most like him as i can. the fcs are kind of loose for him but i need a way to like fully visualize him. so. yeah. his 'color palette' (weird way to put it but idk how else) makes him tanner than all three of them i fear. all of the fcs i use (other than jack schlossberg but like. idk his main celebrity lookalike in the better cr is him so i kind of had to) are latino, but i feel like it never ever properly translates when i talk about him bc his name is fucking leopold scott. like. huh.

he's also tall AS FUCK lol and built like a tank lowkey (think tom welling clark kent GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY) but it's mainly bc he's a hockey player. in every vers he's like. 6'3. shortest he is is w marcello as his fc and even then he's 5'11. (note in pop star dr he gets a lot of comparisons to jacob elordi for some reason??? idk my fans are weird)

he's got big brown baby cow eyes. every. single. time. like that is this man's defining trait and you know what? i would not change that for the world lol

his position in hockey is a goalie! he uses the number #29 and plays for our college and later for the new jersey devils before being traded to the anaheim ducks. after he retires he becomes a firefighter!!!! (which is sooo hot btw)

[spectral-phases]

So this goes into the lore of both worlds a bit.

Lazarus Pits are said to form around ley lines, and that the "chemical" in them responsible for the healing effect is the metal dionesium dissolved into the Lazarus Pits (or dionesium forms are ley lines and Lazarus Pits are another thing). The rest of what makes them what they are is largely unknown. They didn't originally have resurrection powers, and when it was introduced, it was usually limited to someone who is only mostly dead, not someone who has been dead for a long time (though that can alter based on the writer's needs, ofc). They’re also said to be a one time use (though there are ways to use one more than once, the methods are unknown). They are also said to be dangerous to the living, but do wonders for the injured, but can cause a brief alteration of the mind (madness in the sane, sanity in the mad, but not enough to turn Batman into a crazed killer) There is a dionesium based metal alloy, electrum, which is shown to bring back the dead as well.

In Danny Phantom, pure and natural ectoplasm has an unknown reaction to the living, though it's unlikely to be beneficial. However, it is shown that ectoplasm that stays in place (the portal) need to be filtered to have unknown contaminants removed, and the build-up of these contaminants can be exceedingly dangerous. It is also shown that contaminated ectoplasm has an extremely adverse reaction in regular humans (causing ecto-acne, which quickly becomes lethal, which could be the cause of Vlad dying and thus becoming a half ghost if that's your interpretation of what half ghosts are, and possibly also what caused him to become the villain that he is after the fact).

So, in a crossover universe, for whatever reason you want for the ectoplasm to collect and coalesce into pools (and it's shown to be pink or green, so they can form the glowing green or orange Lazarus Pits with no stretch), sewers for the Ghost Zone or Trigon or whatever, it only happens around ley lines where there is dionesium present. The dionesium leeches into the pools, thus giving them their healing properties for the living, however, because the ectoplasm is stagnant/contaminated by the dionesium, it becomes extremely harmful to the living. If an injured person enters a pit, they absorb the dissolved dionesium for healing, and it largely shields their body from the corrosive effects of the ectoplasm aside from the temporary alteration of their mind. Someone who is healthy does not absorb the dionesium, and are not shielded, thus quickly suffer and die as they are swimming in it rather than the misting that causes ecto-acne. Since there are so few traces of dionesium in it to start with, one person absorbs so much of the dionesium that there isn't enough left after a use to heal anyone else (being able to reuse a pit would require filtering the dionesium out of their blood and putting it back). Lazarus pits that are capable of reviving the dead have such a high concentration of dionesium that combined with the ectoplasm it is able to function like electrum, though it's very rare that it is capable of reviving anyone who died more than hour ago (perhaps electrum was dissolved in those ones that can, idk, idk). That's it on their interconnection to me, really.

Lazarus and Ecto

What's your take on the Lazarus Pits = Ectoplasm headcanon?

I mostly see people write about how the pits are highly concentrated ecto that has been contaminated from chemicals. But I've seen stuff about how ecto is volatile for people and the Lazarus pits used to be pure ecto until people took a dip into it and made it dirty.

But if we use the hc of Ecto being really bad for the living, how did Lazarus waters revive or rejuvenate people?

Give me headcanons people!

[loolilyumm]

I CARE SO MUCH ABOUT YOUR CAP 3 PLEASE MORE IF YOU WOULDNT MIND???

JUMPING UP AND DOWN IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED I WILL SO HAPPILY YAP ABOUT HIM

THIS IS AGENT THREE! Most of the people in the NSS call him “Three” or “Captain,” but his real name is Reese.

(SIDE NOTE- I really have to do proper character sheets for them. Please stay tuned for that!!)

He was 15 when he was hired by Cuttlefish and 17 during the events of octo expansion. Now he is a mature 20 year old inkling. So so mature.

He mains the E-liter and typically uses chargers or shooters.

Despite his “cool guy” persona, agent 8 brings out a different side of him… the loser baby side…!!! In Splatoon 2 When the two of them fell underground, Reese was actually the one to find 8, and he had to rescue her from sanitization chambers (you know, the octoling selection screen at the beginning of octo expansion?) but couldn’t save her in time to restore her memory. But she was (relatively) okay! And since then he’s been really protective of her. 8 was registered as a test subject and Reese had to stay behind and watch as she went through rigorous testing.

At that point Reese was really descending into a dark place after realizing that he wasn’t really the big hero he thought that he was. But 8 helped him through it and they formed a really close bond deep in the underground. (Cuttlefish was also there third wheeling. LOL) Reese started to feel flustered and shy around her. He’d never felt that way before, and definitely didn’t expect it. And it CONFUSED HIM!! He was like wtf? Why is this happening to meeee waahwaahhhhh ueueueuee

And then y’know……the rest is history! The blender incident happened and it was the scariest moment of his life. Reese was about to lose the only two people he had ever cared about. He has a tendency to throw himself recklessly into dangerous situations, so he just THREW himself at the blender and well. It worked! In my version, he never got knocked out, and he travelled upwards with 8 and cuttlefish until about the 4th phase. Then he and cuttlefish got separated from 8 and attacked by Tartar - that’s how he was brainwashed.

The battle between agent 3 and agent 8 was BRUTAL. Reese harbors extreme amounts of guilt for what went down - he blames himself a lot and thinks he should have been stronger. 8 got really hurt but she managed to save him and THEN save the whole world. #girlboss! Period.

The two of them are working through the events of octo expansion together! If you want me to yap about 8 too I will gladly do that. (Also maybe I should write a fanfic about it. I am cringe but I am free.)

Cut to 3 years into the future - During splatoon 3, Reese becomes captain of the NSS. He doesn’t think he deserves the title but is honored to accept it.

The new agent 3 that they recruited reminds Reese a lot of himself. Her name is Margot. She’s the quiet kid that he used to be. He sort of takes her under his wing and teaches her how to defend herself and her comrades. She is like a younger sister to him. They bicker and bond just like siblings. I LOVE THEM.

I actually haven’t really thought through what happens during the events of splatoon 3. I’m running with the idea that agent 4 and agent 8 go missing during the events of side order. (I know it’s all virtual but like I might add other things to it IDK IDK) I don’t really know yet. But Reese is a good captain and he can find them ☺️☺️

BUT YEA. AFTER ALL THT IS SAID AND DONE - they’re the NSS! And they are all besties.

Thank u for coming to my ted talk.

[killfortune]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒎 🌸

Keisuke Baji x Reader

Stranded in a cabin during a fierce winter storm, you and Baji are forced to face the tension between you both. With nothing but time and the crackling fire, old feelings resurface, and the line between friendship and something more blurs in a way neither of you expected.

! Idk what genre this is . Lil bit of angst, turns into fluff, suggestive at the end . Almost 2k words .

౨ৎ The cabin had been Mikey’s idea. A winter getaway, he’d said—a chance for everyone to relax, let loose, and have fun before the chaos of real life crept back in. The group had rented a cozy, snow-covered cabin in the woods, with just enough space for everyone to cram inside. You’d arrived early in the afternoon with Baji, Chifuyu, Draken, and the rest of the gang, hauling in bags of snacks, drinks, and supplies.

The night had started like any other get-together: laughter, teasing, and way too much alcohol. The air was filled with the sound of Mikey and Draken arguing over whose turn it was to pick the music while Chifuyu tried (and failed) to get everyone to settle down for a game of cards. Baji, naturally, had made it his mission to drink everyone else under the table, and for some reason, you’d decided to keep up with him.

"Y/N, you’re going to regret this," Chifuyu had warned as you took another shot, but you’d waved him off with a grin, matching Baji drink for drink.

The night blurred together after that—hazy memories of loud laughter, clinking glasses, and Mikey doing an impromptu dance that left everyone in stitches. The snow outside had been falling steadily, but no one had paid it much attention. By the time the group decided to call it a night and head back to their homes or lodgings nearby, you and Baji were already passed out on the couch, a heap of blankets thrown haphazardly over the two of you.

"Should we wake them?" Chifuyu had asked, glancing at your sleeping forms with a mix of amusement and concern.

"Nah," Mikey said, smirking as he zipped up his coat. "Let them sleep it off. They’ll wake up in the morning and catch up with us."

And with that, everyone filed out into the snowy night, leaving the cabin quiet except for the faint crackling of the dying fire and the soft sound of your and Baji’s breathing.

🌸🌸🌸

You didn’t wake up until the sun was already high in the sky, streaming weakly through the frosted windows. The first thing you noticed was the pounding in your head, a dull, persistent throb that made you groan and pull the blanket tighter around yourself. The second thing you noticed was how cold it was. Despite the fire having burned low, the cabin had grown chilly overnight, and you could feel the icy air biting at your skin.

The third thing you noticed was Baji.

He was still sprawled on the couch beside you, his long hair a tangled mess and his mouth slightly open as he snored softly. His arm was thrown over his face, shielding his eyes from the light. You sat up slowly, your movements sluggish, and glanced around the room, trying to piece together what had happened the night before.

"Where is everyone?" you muttered, your voice hoarse.

At that moment, Baji stirred, groaning as he shifted onto his side. "Ugh, what time is it?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

"I have no idea," you said, rubbing your temples. "But I think everyone’s gone."

Baji opened one eye, squinting at you. "Gone?" He pushed himself up, wincing as he rubbed the back of his neck. "What do you mean, gone?"

You gestured to the empty room, the absence of jackets and boots by the door making it clear. "They left. We must’ve slept through it."

Baji frowned, looking around as if expecting Mikey or Chifuyu to pop out of nowhere and yell "Surprise!" But the cabin was silent, save for the faint sound of the wind outside.

Then, as if on cue, a loud gust of wind rattled the windows, drawing both of your gazes. The snow outside was no longer falling gently—it was a full-blown blizzard, the world beyond the glass an endless sea of white.

"Shit," Baji muttered, standing up and walking over to the window. He pressed a hand to the frosted glass, his brows furrowing as he took in the storm. "They really left us in this?"

You stood up, wrapping the blanket around yourself as you joined him. "Maybe they didn’t know it was going to get this bad," you said, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

Baji huffed, his breath fogging up the glass. "Great. We’re stuck here."

You glanced at him, taking in his disheveled appearance, and couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "Could be worse," you said lightly.

He turned to you, raising an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? How?"

"You could’ve been stuck here alone," you teased, earning a snort from him.

"Right," he said dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Because being stuck with you is so much better."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, turning back to the window. The snowstorm showed no signs of letting up, and a small knot of unease began to form in your chest. This was supposed to be a simple camping trip, a fun getaway with friends. But now, it was just you and Baji, trapped in a cabin with no idea how long the storm would last.

"Guess we’ll have to wait it out," Baji said, running a hand through his hair.

You nodded, your breath fogging up the glass as you stared out into the swirling snow. "Yeah," you said softly. "Just the two of us.

🌸🌸🌸

The storm showed no signs of stopping. Hours passed, and the cabin grew colder despite the fire roaring in the hearth. You and Baji had managed to scrounge up some instant ramen from the supplies left behind, but the silence between you made it hard to enjoy even the simplest meal.

Baji sat cross-legged by the fire, his sharp features bathed in the flickering glow. His long hair was pulled into a messy half-ponytail, and his jacket hung loosely off his shoulders. He had barely said a word since the two of you realized you were stuck, which was strange—Baji always had something to say.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch. "You’re awfully quiet," you said, breaking the silence. "I thought you’d be complaining by now."

He glanced at you, his dark eyes unreadable. "What’s the point? Complaining’s not gonna fix the storm."

"True," you said softly, though his tone made your chest tighten.

The silence stretched again, heavy and awkward. You stared at the fire, watching as the flames danced and crackled. The warmth should’ve been comforting, but all it did was remind you how small the cabin was, how close you and Baji were, and how much tension seemed to hang in the air.

Finally, Baji sighed and stood up, brushing off his hands. "I’m gonna check outside. See how bad it is."

You frowned. "Baji, it’s a blizzard. You can’t—"

"I’ll just look," he cut you off, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

Before you could argue further, he was gone, stepping into the swirling white. You stared after him, your heart pounding in frustration and something else you couldn’t quite name. Why was he being so cold? Why did it feel like there was something unspoken hanging between you?

When he returned, his hair dusted with snow and his cheeks flushed from the cold, he looked even more frustrated than before. He slammed the door shut behind him, brushing off the snow before tossing his coat aside.

"Yeah, it’s bad," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "We’re not going anywhere anytime soon."

You bit your lip, watching him pace the room like a caged animal. "Baji, what’s your deal?"

He stopped mid-step, his head snapping toward you. "What?"

"You’ve been acting weird all day," you said, standing up. "Ever since we woke up, it’s like you don’t even want to be here."

He scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, well, maybe I don’t."

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you just stared at him, your chest tightening. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Baji avoided your gaze, his jaw tightening. "Forget it," he muttered, turning away.

"No," you said firmly, stepping closer. "You don’t get to say something like that and just walk away. What’s going on with you?"

He stopped in his tracks, his shoulders tense. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and you thought he might just leave the room. But then he turned back to you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"What’s going on with me?" he said, his voice low and rough. "How about what’s going on with you? Acting like nothing’s wrong, like you don’t feel it too."

"Feel what?" you asked, though your voice wavered.

Baji laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about."

You stared at him, your heart pounding. The room felt too small, too hot, and you suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. But you couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t ignore the way his words made your chest ache.

"Baji, I don’t—"

"That night," he interrupted, stepping closer. His voice was sharper now, his frustration bubbling over. "You remember it. Don’t pretend like you don’t."

Your breath caught in your throat. Of course, you remembered. The night you’d both had one drink too many, and Baji had leaned in close, his face inches from yours. The night you’d almost kissed.

The night you’d pulled away.

"I remember," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baji’s expression softened for a moment, but the hurt in his eyes remained. "Then why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you—"

"Because I didn’t know what to say!" you cut him off, your voice trembling. "I didn’t know what it meant, or if it even meant anything to you. And I didn’t want to ruin what we have."

"What we have," Baji repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. "What do we even have, Y/N? You can’t keep acting like nothing’s changed. Like I don’t—"

He stopped himself, clenching his jaw as if the words were too much to say.

You took a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. "Baji, I’m scared," you confessed, your voice breaking.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, the tension between you seemed to waver. "You think I’m not?" he said quietly. "You think I don’t wake up every day wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do about this? About you?"

The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, and for the first time, you saw the cracks in Baji’s usual tough exterior. He wasn’t angry—he was scared, just like you.

The storm outside raged on, the wind howling as if it could tear the cabin apart. But inside, the two of you stood frozen, caught in the eye of a different kind of storm.

And neither of you knew how to find your way out.

Baji let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his tangled hair as he took a step back. His lips pressed into a thin line, like he was holding himself back from saying more.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, not for warmth but as if it might hold you together. "I don’t know what you want me to say," you admitted, your voice shaky. "I don’t know how to fix this."

"I don’t need you to fix it," he snapped, then softened, his shoulders slumping. "I just need you to stop pretending like nothing’s wrong."

His words made your chest tighten, and you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill. "I wasn’t pretending," you said quietly. "I was trying to protect what we have. I didn’t want to lose you, Baji."

He scoffed, though there was no malice in it—just a raw kind of pain. "You think not talking about it makes it better? You think ignoring it makes it go away?"

You shook your head, frustrated and overwhelmed. "What was I supposed to do? Risk everything? What if I’m wrong? What if you don’t—"

"Don’t what?" Baji cut you off, his voice sharp. "Feel the same way?"

The room felt impossibly quiet after his words, the fire crackling softly in the background. You stared at him, your heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest.

"Do you?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baji didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let out a slow breath, his gaze dropping to the floor. For a moment, you thought he might dodge the question entirely, but then he looked up at you, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes was enough to steal your breath.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I do."

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. Your knees felt weak, and you stumbled back a step, gripping the back of the couch for support.

"Baji..." you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

"I’m not saying it to make things harder," he said, his voice steady now. "I’m saying it because it’s the truth. And because I’m tired of pretending like it doesn’t matter."

Your throat felt tight, and you struggled to find the right words. The fear that had kept you silent for so long was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind. But now, standing here with Baji, the storm raging outside, you realized that fear didn’t matter anymore.

"What if we ruin everything?" you asked, your voice trembling.

Baji’s expression softened, and he took a cautious step closer. "What if we don’t?" he countered. "What if this is worth it?"

The vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you, throwing your arms around him.

Baji froze for a moment, caught off guard, but then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. He smelled like smoke and winter, and you buried your face in his chest, letting out a shaky breath.

"I’m scared," you admitted again, your voice muffled against him.

"I know," he said quietly, resting his chin on top of your head. "Me too."

The storm outside howled, but inside the cabin, it felt like the two of you were in your own little world. Baji’s arms tightened around you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on your chest began to lift.

"I don’t know what’s going to happen," you said softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

"Neither do I," he admitted, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips. "But we’ll figure it out."

His words made something inside you ache, but it wasn’t fear—it was hope.

"You promise?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

Baji nodded, his eyes meeting yours. "Yeah," he said firmly. "I promise."

For the first time since you’d woken up, you felt like you could breathe.

Baji’s promise hung in the air between you, his dark eyes locked onto yours. The tension that had simmered all night finally snapped, leaving a stillness that felt heavier than the storm outside.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, you reached up, your hand brushing against his cheek, your touch hesitant but lingering. His breath hitched, and you felt him lean into your touch just slightly, as if he were afraid to want it too much.

"Baji..." you whispered, your voice trembling.

He didn’t respond, not with words. Instead, his hand came up to cover yours, his calloused fingers warm against your skin. His eyes flickered between yours and your lips, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest.

Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, the space between you narrowing until his forehead rested lightly against yours. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "If you don’t want this...tell me to stop."

You couldn’t. You didn’t want to. Instead, you tilted your head just slightly, your breath mingling with his as you closed the distance.

When his lips met yours, it was slow—tentative, almost unsure. But the hesitation didn’t last long. The kiss deepened, growing fiercer, more desperate, as if the storm inside you both had finally found its outlet.

Baji’s hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. The warmth of his touch, the intensity of his kiss—it was overwhelming, consuming. The world outside the cabin seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other.

His lips moved against yours with a fiery urgency, as though he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than either of you had admitted. When he pulled back, just slightly, it was only to catch his breath, his forehead still pressed against yours.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper.

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands still resting on his shoulders. "I might have some idea."

He grinned, that lopsided, mischievous smile that always managed to make your heart skip a beat. But there was something softer in his eyes now, something vulnerable that made your chest ache.

"Guess being stuck here wasn’t so bad after all," he said, his thumb brushing gently against your waist.

You smiled, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "No," you said quietly, your voice steady now. "It wasn’t bad at all."

The fire crackled in the hearth, the storm howling outside, but all you could feel was Baji’s warmth, his touch, his presence. And for the first time in a long time, the fear and uncertainty faded away, replaced by something far stronger.

Hope.

That hope was accompanied by a new kind of tension when you heard him murmur, "Guess we’ve got some time to kill... and it’s just the two of us."

The way his hands slid down to rest firmly on your hips, his thumbs brushing your sides, sent a shiver through you. His tone was casual, but the look in his eyes told a different story—dark and intent, like he was daring you to close the distance again.

Your cheeks flushed, and you let out a nervous laugh, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. "Baji, seriously?"

"What?" he said, his voice low, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "I’m just saying. We’re stuck here. Might as well... make the most of it."

The suggestive edge to his words made your heart race, and you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. But there was no mistaking the tenderness in his touch or the way his gaze softened when he looked at you.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, though you didn’t pull away.

"And you’re not denying it," he shot back, leaning in just enough for his nose to brush yours.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. "Guess we’ll see how long this storm lasts."

His grin widened, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he tightened his grip just slightly, grounding you in the moment. And as the firelight flickered around you, the storm raging beyond the walls, you couldn’t deny that being trapped here didn’t seem so bad after all.

Thank you 🌸... I'm experimenting with my formatting, lol .

[fiveredlights]

also I now have so many questions about the DAUD AU world that I don't know what to do with them. if a DAUD performs really well in the other universe does that do anything for them in their home universe?? What if they do really poorly? is there a system in which they are allowed to stay in the alternate universe?

Has a DAUD for vcarb/rb/alphatauri/whatever ever been part of one of redbulls mid season driver swap/promotion/demotion shenanigans?? is that even allowed?? rb still run three cars as allotted for being the designated team but they run 3 drivers from their normal universe and red bull steals the DAUD for their second car?

thank you for enabling me to talk about The DAUD AU

before we begin i very quickly have to solve the problem of benjamin’s DAUD program being one race only versus matilda’s DAUD program bring a whole season by saying in 2030 the FIA changes the program that drivers have to stay for a whole season and everyone agrees that it’s fine for teams to run three drivers for the season because as callan says, the DAUDs are usually shit!

okay now onto your very good questions. usually DAUDs are reserve/junior drivers and if they do well in the program, usually teams will move them up into the seat but it’s not like a direct correlation. sometimes DAUDs can do really well but they don’t end up with a full time seat 🤷‍♀️ like how winning f2 doesn't always guarantee a f1 seat.

but it helps your case massively if you do well which is why people attempt the DAUD program as a way to get into a f1 seat. that’s probably the main reason why benjamin does the DAUD program, he’s in the RB junior team and needs to make a name for himself.

matilda does the DAUD program because she hates her teammate (devon jackson when i catch you) and ferrari won’t fire him because idk he’s like super rich (pay drivers have hit ferrari in 2048) so he sees it as a way to escape for a season.

(also she’s running away from someone like callan but we don’t need to get into that. matthew doesn’t like her in the beginning and i wonder why …)

if they do really poorly there’s leniency depending how far forward/back they went (eg. drivers who go back 20+ years almost never do well so nothing happens) but if they went to a similar time period and do very badly they will almost always get dropped from their teams. like if you were from 2024 and get sent into 2025 and you DNF in the race you are unfortunately probably gonna get kicked out.

DAUDs aren’t allowed to stay in the alternate universe permanently because of *waves hand around* universe somehow not liking it BUT if you win the race/championship you get a special little universe time travel bracelet that allows you to travel between your home universe and your alternate universe whenever you wish. so matilda is absolutely travelling back and forth for the sole reason to annoy matthew and callan.

there’s a whole thing where callan’s like you don’t want kids after knowing matilda and max just sighs super loudly and is like “you must be really stupid if you don’t think daniel considers you two as his weird adult children. i knew i would be stuck with you two when i started dating daniel. be so serious callan.”

okay so the whole Red Bull/RB/DAUD swap is such a funny and great thought because red bull are absolutely doing crazy shit like that. below is the craziest possible option i could think of.

in 2035 in the old habits/glitter on the floor DAUD verse i think RB/red bull attempt this crazy driver thing, where the RB DAUD does incredibly well for the first race but then does like mediocre for the rest and of course red bull are immediately like well with results like that we gotta get them in the main team!

the race before the summer break, the 2nd red bull driver contracts appendicitis on the friday. red bull call on the RB DAUD to replace them, he beats matthew for that race and red bull are like okay you're staying for the rest of the season. i don't think you can give someone appendicitis but there's obviously going to be news articles on red bull giving appendicitis to the 2nd red bull driver as a way to get the RB DAUD into the seat.

everyone starts petitioning the FIA to stop red bull from doing this, lawsuits are launched, there's a full on civil war between teams, everyone in red bull and RB are walking on eggshells, and to top it off the after the 2nd red bull driver recovers they refuse to drive the RB so they quit midseason and then we go into summer break with five cars between the two teams and only four drivers.

RB didn't run the 3rd car in the race before summer break, so obviously now daniel has to find a driver for the rest of the season. he doesn't want to pull up any of the drivers from the junior team because they are not ready and honestly he's still holding a grudge against red bull for stealing one of his drivers behind his back AGAIN. he is teetering between also quitting mid season and calling andretti up being like hey you wanted a f1 team right??

matteo jokingly says daniel should drive the 3rd car, daniel is like i can't drive because of my hand. he's trying to figure out if he can call matilda again but ferrari won't let her drive. then max is like well i can. everyone turns to the door and max is like well it is not like i am doing anything else.

daniel thinks he's joking but then realises he is very much not joking and he's not going to look a gift horse in the face, shoves max into the factory to do seat fits etc. everyone in RB agrees to keep it hush hush because red bull would throw a fit if they found out max was replacement driver and swap the DAUD for max.

matthew catches wind that max is the replacement, attempts to get himself demoted so he can be teammates with max, callan throws his phone out the window before anything can happen.

summer break is over and RB haven't announced who the replacement driver is so everyone assumes they're abandoning the DAUD program/3rd car. no one suspects that max is the driver when he walks into the paddock, but when FP1 starts and people see the 3rd car with 33 on it everyone promptly loses their shit, daniel and max have the biggest shit eating grin on their face, christian is having a mental breakdown down at red bull, red bull shareholders are pissed, matthew is still trying to get himself demoted and on top of that FIA places a temporary ban on driver swaps mid season to deal with the lawsuits/petitions.

so then it turns out that the DAUD who was once thought to be a generational talent maybe wasn't that good at all because the first race back he hits matthew and causes him to retire. a fluke maybe. nah he hits callan in the next race. red bull come to the startling realisation they are stuck with this guy for the rest of the season. someone googles how to give appendicitis to someone else.

adding salt to the wound, RB finish above red bull in the WCC, callan wins the WDC and matthew quits red bull and the FIA give red bull a massive fine because what they did was illegal and outside of the regulations etc. red bull agree to sell RB to andretti at the end of the season and daniel has never ever been happier. this is what he wanted all along.

max wins the last race, we finally get the daniel, max, matthew, callan podium line up. max retires again, matthew quits red bull and goes to andretti with daniel as TP. matteo also joins andretti, we get the oops all matt team and mostly everyone lives happily ever after.

matilda visits at the end of the season and is like woah. what the fuck happened here and everyone just starts crying because it's been a long year.

is this situation so ridiculous and crazy? yes. but so is this universe.

[sobbingscripter]

DAY 9: Nine Ladies Dancing

☃️Stuff My Stocking☃️

Tags: [virginity][AGED UP][vanilla?][friends to lovers][implied crushes][did I mention AGED UP]

A/N: idk who's art that is but I hope you get the sloppiest toppy.

❄️☃️❄️

"This is pointless. Everyone knows what they're getting." Damian grumbles, nimble and tanned fingers folding thin and vibrant coloured wrapping paper around yet another box. The eighth one so far.

Snow tumbles outside frost bitten windows, a beautiful view of snowcapped mountains and the soft howl of wind all remains beyond the sturdy, brick walls of the manor. The scent of cinnamon and ginger lingers in the air, a plate of half-eaten gingerbread cookies on an ornate plate, two glasses of unfinished milk accompanying the snack on the wooden surface of the nearest coffee table.

"This is your first traditional Christmas." You answer him, your brows knitting into a frown at the familiar and unwelcome pessimism that seems to seep from Damian's pores like sweat.

"Not to mention your last Christmas, before you move in with the Titans and then, you're never seeing me again." You add, the last tidbit being said with a hint of dramatism, and if you were more confident in your knitting abilities, you'd have rested your hand on your chest, wiping away a faux tear with your other.

"Imagine I'm—" "Yeah, I get it." Emerald pools roll in annoyance at your theatrics, and he pinches the corners, sharpening them on either side of the box's seams. "And you're being ridiculous. You'll see me."

His eyes lift to meet your gaze, and if you were feeling a bit more confident, you'd have commented on the hint of sadness lurking behind the leafy pools and stupidly long lashes. Those goddamn Arab genes.

"Yeah but then you'll be dating that goth girl in the leotard. And you'll bring her on all our hang outs, and when you don't, she'll tell you that I'm trying to fuck you."

"Aren't you?"

Damian's question causes you to miss a stitch, wooden needles poking into the wrong loop of the vibrant green yarn, and your eyes widen, long lashes fanning out around your doe eyes before you let out a snort of laughter.

"Yeah, but not if you have a girlfriend."

Your eyes lower back to the stocking you're knitting, carefully fixing your mistake before continuing, the soft sound of wood clanging against one another continues to ring out in the stillness, the only other sound being the crackling fireplace and the hum of the fucking gramophone Damian had insisted on turning on for...

Arm-bie-arnce.

"But..." His voice is quiet and his hands still. "I don't have a girlfriend."

He sets down the half-wrapped box, carefully extracting the knitting needles and yarn from your hands, and a hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you closer across the burgundy rug of Wayne Manor's entertainment room.

"And I'm not interested in Rachel."

He adds quietly, gaze locked on yours and you swallow. Your heart pounds in your chest, rattling your ribcage and your palms begin to get clammy as you grasp at the soft cotton of your (his) pajama pants.

"Can I—" "Yes, you can cast it off."

Damian's kisses are soft. Gentle, and all-consuming. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, the muscles in his arms flex with each of his movements, muscular fingers moving behind the fabric of your pants. The feel of his pounding heart against your back is the only indication that he's just as nervous and inexperienced as you, if not more.

Because GOD, you'd never guess.

Not from the way his fingers slowly circle your needy clit, just enough to keep you on the teetering edge of pleasure, soaking through your panties and definitely not from the way his free hand grasps your neck, just... Resting there. His thumb rubs that soft spot just beneath your ear, brushing over the sensitive skin as his tongue slides repeatedly against yours, painting the inside of your mouth with his taste.

Gingery cookies, full cream milk and the hint of mint from his toothpaste, and Damian pulls away, dark lashes fluttering and his lips reddened from being so... Coddled in attention. He can taste your lip balm on his lips, the hint of coconut oil and that sweet smell that always seems to get him dizzy whenever he gets a whiff of it.

You're so pretty right now. Big, wide doe eyes with long lashes, fluttering as you stare up at him expectantly, your back pressed against his broad chest and you can feel the hardness of his muscles through the fleece of your hoodie and the flimsy fabric of his long sleeved T-shirt. You're pliable, and each time his fingers curl, he gets to feel your pulse jump beneath your skin, and each time, it sends a delightful shiver down his back, making his cock twitch.

"You're pretty." Damian whispers quietly, smoky green eyes drinking in the flush of your cheeks, your body melding against his and slowly, he pulls his fingers out of your pants. Bringing them up to his lips and tasting you on his tongue and you get to watch the exact moment he falls in love with the taste of your leaky pussy.

Lashes flutter, eyes nearly close and that aching cock pressing against your lower back is so noticeable that when you shift, you can exactly feel the ridge of his flushed crown. And his hands move to your thighs, squeezing the plump flesh before he dips his head low.

Your nails graze the short cropped hair of his undercut, just as his tongue flicks against your pulse, before he presses a soft kiss to your pleasure-thrumming skin.

"Wait here," he hums, "I'm gonna go ask Todd for a condom."

You're sopping. It's an uncomfortable feeling when you feel Damian's plump tip stretching out your tight, untrained muscles, his hand anchoring your hips to the sofa and you frown, brows knitted tightly and your lips tugged into a cute little pout.

"Just—" You feel a particularly painful pinch and you wince, "—shove it in." You instruct. "Don't prepare me. Then don't move. Not even an in—"

Your wind is knocked out of you when Damian, quite literally, shoves it in. Your walls spasm and your eyes well up with tears as your teeth bite into your plump bottom lip to stifle any sounds, any tears.

"Shh shh, 'm sorry, 'm sorry." Damian mutters softly, leaning over you and peppers soft kisses to your red face, pressing gentle kisses to your watering eyes and his hands gently massage your waist and hips, trying to help you relax.

"Just...." Damian bites his lip as he thinks. Normally, in the porn he's seen, everyone's already broken in. But he takes a leap of faith, his hand resting on your mound and his thumb moves to your folds, finding that cute pebbled bud and slowly, he coaxes you into relaxation.

Slow circles that have your mouth forming a cute pouty 'o' shape, wet lashes fluttering as you look down at his hand. The pain is... Dull. Still present but so dull when compared to Damian's face, so... Expressive, for once and so gentle as he plays with your clit.

Gentle pinches, slow circles.

He pulls out every trick in the book, all while keeping his aching hips still, eager for you to enjoy this before he gets to fuck you.

He leans forward, hips snug against your own as he presses a kiss against your temple, your thighs over his and he hides his face in your neck when your hips rock to meet his thumb's movements and you just feel....

Warm.

Your brows crease when Damian lets out a shuddering breath before he lifts himself, grabbing your hoodie from the backrest of the sofa and he tosses it over your face.

"What are you—" "Don't look!"

Damian huffs, pulling out of you and he carefully tugs the already filled condom off, the latex filled to the brim with snowy white cum and he knots it, hiding it beneath the sofa.

Just for now.

He carefully and quickly rips another foil packet, putting on the condom just like how Dick demonstrated with a banana on one really... Shitty day.

And just when you finally manage to toss the hoodie off your face (he tucked the arms into the space between the cushion and the armrest), Damian's already sliding his thick cock back into your drooling cunt.

Your eyes roll back, your hips lifting and your knees move inward, pressing your knees into his sides as his thumb continues it's prior assault, teasing your sensitive button.

"Open your legs." Damian huffs, cheeks still flushed from the knowledge that he came so early, but as long as you don't know, you can't bring it up.

"I—... No..." Your hips buck sloppily, and he lets out a deep groan, but you're not sure if it's in pleasure or annoyance, but Damian's hands move to your inner thighs, spreading them obscenely wide and he stares.

Watching the way your puffed pussy lips swallow his cock whole, and he slowly pulls out of you, listening to that slick sound that nearly blends into the crackle of firewood and he slowly sinks back into you.

Damian.

He doesn't thrust, doesn't pound or piston.

His hips fucking roll into yours, a slow grind that has your brain melting and your nails digging into strong biceps, and Damian's eyes are locked on yours. It's a slow fuck. The slowest and so deep, each sloppy kiss against your cervix has your toes curl in those knitted socks, your yarn covered heels brushing against his muscular back.

"You're so tight..." Damian breathes out, his hips stuttering and your whines turn into quiet breaths, soft breathy moans and your hands interlock behind his neck, pulling him closer.

He's all you can smell.

That musky sweat, the oud he uses. Fuck, he smells so good. And you're barely paying attention when you whisper softly, lips brushing against his ear.

"Take off the condom?"