#one is a tiny stick shift that my sister accidentally backed into one time and it’s safety is highly questionable

[skyward-floored]

Okay I may be totally dreading the upkeep and everything that goes into have a car but also I cannot get that thing soon enough

[novelmonger]

Back at the beginning of this year, I made a silly New Year's resolution to watch a movie made in the year I was born. I had a few possibilities in mind, but just the other day, I happened across a movie I saw when I was a kid and mostly forgot about, but it's been on my mind lately as I've been thinking about one of my original stories. Then what do you know? I discover that it came out the year I was born! At least according to IMdB, which only has release dates for Australia and the Netherlands, which is a different year than what it says on YouTube, where I'm watching it, but whatever, we're counting it!

It's a TV movie (I assume?) called On Our Own, about four siblings who have recently been orphaned and run away because they're afraid of being split up if they're sent to foster homes. I know it's been at least a small unconscious inspiration for my superpowered siblings story (though a much bigger inspiration for that story was Escape to Witch Mountain, since that's about orphans who have supernatural powers), so I was curious to watch it again with an adult's eyes.

So without further ado, here are some thoughts I had while watching:

How is it that this movie, which I must have seen on TV one time when I was 6 or 8 or something, maybe at my grandparents' house (or it might have been from the library or something), still feels so familiar, like a movie I grew up watching over and over again? Like, if you'd asked me before I started watching how the movie begins, I probably couldn't have told you, but as soon as the first shot of an ambulance driving through the streets came on, I was like, "YES! OF COURSE! I REMEMBER THIS!"

Wow, the acting is terrible in this XD Not just the kids, who can be somewhat excused for lack of experience, but none of the adults are that great either ^^'

Even though these siblings are two boys and two girls, while my story is about one brother and three sisters, I can definitely see an influence on my characters and how they interact. Particularly in the older two siblings, who end up kind of having to be de facto parents to their much younger siblings.

I get that this is a movie intended for kids to watch and understand, so the writing is pretty blunt, but yikes, the adults have no tact when discussing the kids' future and how they'll have to be split up, never see their dog again, etc.

When escaping the orphanage, Kate hands Mitch the suitcase, and he accidentally drops it to the ground several stories below. Then he immediately turns and says, "Okay, hand me Lori." I snorted XD

I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about the way they filmed the scenery shots of city streets and highways that just feels very low-budget. Even though they probably had to use a helicopter for some of them.

Uh...is every song on this soundtrack with vocals from Kidz Bop or something? <_<

The most unrealistic thing in this whole movie may be that Mitch can drive a stick-shift Volkswagen beetle across two states with only the very occasional issue when he's only driven in the parking lot one time before -_- (Not to mention that that tiny car has enough gas to get them as far as they go before having to get more.)

Okay, wait wait wait. They only have $9 to get them where they need to go, and Mitch comes out of the gas station with this big brown paper bag full of food that cost $8? Like...yeah, he said he didn't get Twinkies or plastic cups, but...wait, how much is that in today-dollars? *calculates* $19.32 Okaaaayyy....

Yay, obviously over-dubbed little girl who sounds completely out of place and not like it's actually Lori at all.

"Of all the turkeys in the world, how'd I get hung up with this hamster going all the way to Arizona?" - What kind of line is that??? XD

Also, like...these are police chasing the kids, right? Yet they're like, "Oh no, we only have a ZIP Code from a torn envelope [at least, that's where I'm assuming they got it from], and all we know is that there's someone they call "Uncle Jack." But we don't know what his last name is! There is absolutely no way that the police could look up public records and find out what their mother's maiden name was and see if there's somebody at that ZIP Code named Jack who also has that last name!"

Random non-sequitur moment #125: "Hey, look at this old old bottle!" *no one responds and it never goes anywhere*

Okay, like the one thing I remember from this movie is Mitch falling asleep at the wheel. Guess that made a huge impression on me, like a cautionary tale. But why did he keep driving so far until he hit a cactus??? Ever heard of brakes, kid?!

Wow, watching this as an adult really drives home how completely helpless these kids are. I'm sure when I watched this movie as a kid, Mitch and Kate seemed so old and responsible and capable. But now, watching Kate break down because they have no money and no food, and with the car crashed and not starting, all I can think is how young they all look.

This framing story with the grandma making a cake or whatever and getting the whole story told to her on the phone is completely unnecessary, but funny in a very stereotypical sort of way XD (But yikes, I don't wanna see her phone bill at the end of this!) And lol, she doesn't even take her burning cake out of the oven, just turns it down and leaves it in there!

This movie feels like its message is "As long as you're desperate, anything is excusable." Just judging from the triumphant "we're gonna make it!" music that plays every time they steal a vehicle -_- Aaaand not thirty seconds later, he runs into a conveniently placed...stick? that conveniently stabs the car and makes in unusable. Because that's a thing that often happens.

And then Travis puts a quarter in a slot machine and wins the jackpot??? What are you trying to convey to impressionable kids, movie?!

HOLEY SLICES OF BREAD, THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY! Two bullies come after the kids, trying to steal their winnings, Mitch threatens to throw a rock at them with the most unconvincing threat in the world, then they're scuffling around like these two guys couldn't take all four of them with their hands behind their backs, it's intercut jarringly with Peggy driving up in a truck full of sheep...and then out of nowhere, she pulls out a gun?!?!?

*pointing gun* "I know how to use this!" Uh...yeah, real convincing. Still, can't blame those guys for backing away slowly from the crazy lady with the wild eyes.

Oh, okay, it wasn't a real gun. I was about to get upset about gun safety when she just tossed it onto the ground at a kid's feet.

And...the car is magically fixed now? They just drive off no problem? Okay, who cares about continuity anyway?

OH MY GOODNESS LORI IS ADORABLE :3

Oh, okay, the car is not perfectly fine. But it sure took a long time for the smoking engine to become a problem again.

What a cascade of revelations one after another. Jack isn't really their uncle (so I guess it wouldn't have worked for the police to look up their mother's maiden name after all), he's got a...girlfriend? with a son, and their father is in prison. I wonder what for? Will we ever find out?

That was the most awkward little fist-fight ever. It was like...sluggish? No tension, no sense of danger. Like...oh noooo, he grabbed the carrot. Oh nooooo, he splashed some water on him. And then Travis has to be super gross and grab horse manure and throw it at him. Just...why?

"If I wasn't bleeding all over the place, I'd clean your plow!" Is that a thing people say??? XD

"Tell you the truth, it's something I've been wanting to do for quite some time." Okay, I had to play it back like three times, but I finally realized that Jack is saying he wanted to bust his girlfriend's kid's nose and throw manure at him. Uh...okay then ._.

Aha, the bus! This is the other part of the movie I actually remember, where Mitch somehow knows how to drive a whole freaking bus when he's supposedly never driven before.

Why is the guy selling bus tickets giving me such creepy vibes??? <_<

*Four children drive off in a bus* Peggy: "Oh no." Super convincing, lady.

Really? The police are too slow to catch them, even when they stop the bus so Travis can hop out and get their dog, because the policeman accidentally got into the back seat instead of the driver's seat? Literally when would that ever happen??? And then they just drive right through a stack of...banana crates? I don't even know what those were. And then he doesn't even notice there's a one-lane bridge ahead and ends up in the creek. The kid is better at this than you, Mr. Detective!

Police cars swiftly gaining on them from behind, a roadblock ahead, a freaking prop plane touches down right in front of them, and what is Mitch's response? An eyeroll.

Oh, okay, now he's crying. Poor kid has had a rough day or two.

Whoa, attack of the over-dubbed Mitch whose voice suddenly got a lot deeper!

"I'm a real strong worker, you'll see!" *Uncle Jack gives him a blank stare* A+ acting all around, fellas.

Wow. The police explain how, legally, they can't just let the kids stay with someone who's not a relative in a completely different state, but then he says, "Come to my house and have some barbecue and we'll work this out." AND THEY GO FOR IT. Did the people who wrote this script know the first thing about how laws work?

Oh, okay. They did have to go back to LA and get it worked out in the court. And Mitch and Kate had to do community service to make up for all the laws they broke.

"They must have had a pretty bad example from their alcoholic father." Okay, movie, sheesh, you don't have to yell in our ears that alcoholism is bad. We get the picture.

Why on earth did I remember the last scene so clearly? As soon as the grandma starts putting the little decorations on the cake, it was like I remembered every single word everyone said. "Because I'm a grandma!"

Huh. A weirdly long stretch of black screen after the credits are done, but the music isn't quite finished. Usually you just fade out at that point, you know.... (I'm not exaggerating when I say there's like a whole verse and chorus left after the credits where you're just staring at nothing.)

Well, all in all, this was a fun trip down memory lane. I'm glad I managed to track it down again, and see some of the ingredients in the idea soup for my own story of four siblings running away. But...it's not a very good movie, all things considered XD

[algumaideia]

Nico quotes- Last Olympian

The scene shifted. Now I was outside the pavilion, hiding in the shadows of a Greek column. A boy stood next to me, eavesdropping on the Titans. He had dark silky hair, pale skin, and dark clothes—my friend Nico di Angelo, the son of Hades.

...

Nico was the only one who didn't seem freaked out by Mrs. O'Leary's appearance. He looked pretty much like I'd seen him in my dream—an aviator's jacket, black jeans, and a T-shirt with dancing skeletons on it, like one of those Day of the Dead pictures. His Stygian iron sword hung at his side. He was only twelve, but he looked much older and sadder. He nodded when he saw me, then went back to scratching Mrs. O'Leary's ears. She sniffed his legs like he was the most interesting thing since rib-eye steaks. Being the son of Hades, he'd probably been traveling in all sorts of hellhound-friendly places

...

Nico tapped his sword on the ground. A tiny mound of animal bones erupted from the dirt. They knit themselves together into a skeletal field mouse and scampered off.

...

"This will make her very tired," Nico warned, "so you can't do it often. And it works best at night. But all shadows are part of the same substance. There is only one darkness, and creatures of the Underworld can use it as a road, or a door."

...

Nico appeared right next to me, as if the shadows had darkened and created him. He stumbled, but I caught his arm. "I'm okay," he managed, rubbing his eyes. "How did you do that?" "Practice. A few times running into walls. A few accidental trips to China."

...

The girl had mousy brown hair and a simple brown dress. She wore a scarf over her head so she looked like a pioneer kid—like the ghost of Little House on the Prairie or something. She poked the fire with a stick, and it seemed to glow more richly red than a normal fire. "Hello," she said. My first thought was: monster. When you're a demigod and you find a sweet little girl alone in the woods—that's typically a good time to draw your sword and attack. Plus, the encounter with Ms. Castellan had rattled me pretty bad. But Nico bowed to the little girl. "Hello again, Lady." She studied me with eyes as red as the firelight. I decided it was safest to bow.

[...] "I recognize you now," I said. "The first time I came to camp, you were sitting by the fire, in the middle of the commons area." "You did not stop to talk," the girl recalled sadly. "Alas, most never do. Nico talked to me. He was the first in many years. Everyone rushes about. No time for visiting family."

...

"Father," Nico said. "I have done as you asked." "Took you long enough," Hades grumbled. "Your sister would've done a better job."Nico lowered his head. If I hadn't been so mad at the little creep, I might've felt sorry for him.

...

"To talk, of course." The god twisted his mouth in a cruel smile. "Didn't Nico tell you?" "So this whole quest was a lie. Nico brought me down here to get me killed." "Oh, no," Hades said. "I'm afraid Nico was quite sincere about wanting to help you. The boy is as honest as he is dense. I simply convinced him to take a small detour and bring you here first." "Father," Nico said, "you promised that Percy would not be harmed. You said if I brought him, you would tell me about my past—about my mother."

[...] "Father, you promised!" Nico said. "You said you only wanted to talk to him. You said if I brought him, you'd explain."

[...] diplomat in Washington, D.C. That's where I met her. When you and your sister were young, it was a bad time to be children of Hades. World War II was brewing. A few of my, ah, other children were leading the losing side. I thought it best to put you two out of harm's way." "That's why you hid us in the Lotus Casino?" Hades shrugged. "You didn't age. You didn't realize time was passing. I waited for the right time to bring you out." "But what happened to our mother? Why don't I remember her?" "Not important," Hades snapped. "What? Of course it's important. And you had other children—why were we the only ones who were sent away? And who was the lawyer who got us out?" Hades grit his teeth. "You would do well to listen more and talk less, boy. As for the lawyer . . ." Hades snapped his fingers. On top of his throne, the Fury Alecto began to change until she was a middle-aged man in a pinstriped suit with a briefcase. She—he—looked strange crouching at Hades's shoulder. "You!" Nico said. The Fury cackled. "I do lawyers and teachers very well!" Nico was trembling. "But why did you free us from the casino?" "You know why," Hades said. "This idiot son of Poseidon cannot be allowed to be the child of the prophecy." I plucked a ruby off the nearest plant and threw it at Hades. It sank harmlessly into his robe.

"You should be helping Olympus!" I said. "All the other gods are fighting Typhon, and you're just sitting here—" "Waiting things out," Hades finished. "Yes, that's correct. When's the last time Olympus ever helped me, half-blood? When's the last time a child of mine was ever welcomed as a hero? Bah! Why should I rush out and help them? I'll stay here with my forces intact." "And when Kronos comes after you?" "Let him try. He'll be weakened. And my son here, Nico—" Hades looked at him with distaste. "Well, he's not much now, I'll grant you. It would've been better if Bianca had lived. But give him four more years of training. We can hold out that long, surely. Nico will turn sixteen, as the prophecy says, and then he will make the decision that will save the world. And I will be king of the gods." "You're crazy," I said. "Kronos will crush you, right after he finishes pulverizing Olympus." Hades spread his hands. "Well, you'll get a chance to find out, half-blood. Because you'll be waiting out this war in my dungeons." "No!" Nico said. "Father, that wasn't our agreement. And you haven't told me everything!" "I've told you all you need to know," Hades said. "As for our agreement, I spoke with Jackson. I did not harm him. You got your information. If you had wanted a better deal, you should've made me swear on the Styx. Now, go to your room!" He waved his hand, and Nico vanished.

...

The mountain of darkness loomed above me. A foot the size of Yankee Stadium was about to smash me when a voice hissed, "Percy!" I lunged out blindly. Before I was fully awake, I had Nico pinned to the floor of the cell with the edge of my sword at his throat. "Want . . . to . . . rescue," he choked. Anger woke me up fast. "Oh, yeah? And why should I trust you?"

"No . . . choice?" he gagged. I wished he hadn't said something logical like that. I let him go. Nico curled into a ball and made retching sounds while his throat recovered. Finally he got to his feet, eyeing my sword warily. His own blade was sheathed. I suppose if he'd wanted to kill me, he could've done it while I slept. Still, I didn't trust him. "We have to get out of here," he said. "Why?" I said. "Does your dad want to talk to me again?" He winced. "Percy, I swear on the River Styx, I didn't know what he was planning." "You know what your dad is like!" "He tricked me. He promised—" Nico held up his hands. "Look . . . right now, we need to leave. I put the guards to sleep, but it won't last."

...

He scowled. "Prepare yourself, foolish boy. Whether you survive this or not, you have sealed your doom!" With that happy thought, he vanished. "Percy," Nico said, "maybe he's right." "This was your idea." "I know, but now that we're here—"

...

"Go back to your father," I told Nico. "Tell him he owes me for letting him go. Find out what's going to happen to Mount Olympus and convince him to help." Nico stared at me. "I . . . I can't. He'll hate me now. I mean . . . even more." "You have to," I said. "You owe me too." His ears turned red. "Percy, I told you I was sorry. Please . . . let me come with you. I want to fight." "You'll be more help down here." "You mean you don't trust me anymore," he said miserably. I didn't answer. I didn't know what I meant. I was too stunned by what I'd just done in battle to think clearly. "Just go back to your father," I said, trying not to sound too harsh. "Work on him. You're the only person who might be able to get him to listen." "That's a depressing thought." Nico sighed. "All right. I'll do my best. Besides, he's still hiding something from me about my mom. Maybe I can find out what."

...

In my dream, I saw Nico di Angelo alone in the gardens of Hades. He'd just dug a hole in one of Persephone's flower beds, which I didn't figure would make the queen very happy. He poured a goblet of wine into the hole and began to chant. "Let the dead taste again. Let them rise and take this offering. Maria di Angelo, show yourself!" White smoke gathered. A human figure formed, but it wasn't Nico's mother. It was a girl with dark hair, olive skin, and the silvery clothes of a Hunter. "Bianca," Nico said. "But—" Don't summon our mother, Nico, she warned. She is the one spirit you are forbidden to see. "Why?" he demanded. "What's our father hiding?" Pain, Bianca said. Hatred. A curse that stretches back to the Great Prophecy. "What do you mean?" Nico said. "I have to know!" The knowledge will only hurt you. Remember what I said: holding grudges is a fatal flaw for children of Hades. "I know that," Nico said. "But I'm not the same as I used to be, Bianca. Stop trying to protect me!" Brother, you don't understand— Nico swiped his hand through the mist, and Bianca s image dissipated. "Maria di Angelo," he said again. "Speak to me!"

...

In my dreams, I was back in Hades's garden. The lord of the dead paced up and down, holding his ears while Nico followed him, waving his arms. "You have to!" Nico insisted. Demeter and Persephone sat behind them at the breakfast table. Both of the goddesses looked bored. Demeter poured shredded wheat into four huge bowls. Persephone was magically changing the flower arrangement on the table, turning the blossoms from red to yellow to polka-dotted. "I don't have to do anything!" Hades s eyes blazed. "I'm a god!" "Father," Nico said, "if Olympus falls, your own palace's safety doesn't matter. You'll fade too." "I am not an Olympian!" he growled. "My family has made that quite clear." "You are,'' Nico said. "Whether you like it or not." "You saw what they did to your mother," Hades said. "Zeus killed her. And you would have me help them? They deserve what they get!" Persephone sighed. She walked her fingers across the table, absently turning the silverware into roses. "Could we please not talk about that woman?" "You know what would help this boy?" Demeter mused. "Farming." Persephone rolled her eyes. "Mother—" "Six months behind a plow. Excellent character building." Nico stepped in front of his father, forcing Hades to face him. "My mother understood about family. That's why she didn't want to leave us. You can't just abandon your family because they did something horrible. You've done horrible things to them too." "Maria died!" Hades reminded him. "You can't just cut yourself off from the other gods!" "I've done very well at it for thousands of years." "And has that made you feel any better?" Nico demanded. "Has that curse on the Oracle helped you at all? Holding grudges is a fatal flaw. Bianca warned me about that, and she was right." "For demigods! I am immortal, all-powerful! I would not help the other gods if they begged me, if Percy Jackson himself pleaded—" "You're just as much of an outcast as I am!" Nico yelled. "Stop being angry about it and do somethinghelpful for once. That's the only way they'll respect you!" Hades's palm filled with black fire. "Go ahead," Nico said. "Blast me. That's just what the other gods would expect from you. Prove them right." "Yes, please," Demeter complained. "Shut him up." Persephone sighed. "Oh, I don't know. I would rather fight in the war than eat another bowl of cereal. This is boring." Hades roared in anger. His fireball hit a silver tree right next to Nico, melting it into a pool of liquid metal.

...

The enemy forces stirred uneasily. Then the strangest thing happened. They began to part, clearing a path through the street like something behind them was forcing them to. Soon there was a free aisle down the center of Fifth Avenue. Standing at the end of the block was my giant dog, and a small figure in black armor. "Nico?" I called. "ROWWF!" Mrs. O'Leary bounded toward me, ignoring the growling monsters on either side. Nico strode forward. The enemy army fell back before him like he radiated death, which of course he did. Through the face guard of his skull-shaped helmet, he smiled. "Got your message. Is it too late to join the party?"

"Son of Hades." Kronos spit on the ground. "Do you love death so much you wish to experience it?" "Your death," Nico said, "would be great for me." "I'm immortal, you fool! I have escaped Tartarus. You have no business here, and no chance to live." Nico drew his sword—three feet of wicked sharp Stygian iron, black as a nightmare. "I don't agree."

...

The lord of the dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face, but I figure he'd earned the right. He patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and Nico looked happier than I'd ever seen him.

...

But your children should not be left out. They should have a cabin at camp. Nico has proven that.

...

Mrs. O'Leary romped around happily, eating everybody's table scraps. Nico sat at the main table with Chiron and Mr. D, and nobody seemed to think this was out of place. Everybody was patting Nico on the back, complimenting him on his fighting. Even the Ares kids seemed to think he was pretty cool. Hey, show up with an army of undead warriors to save the day, and suddenly you're everybody's best friend.

...

Nico had some undead builders working on the Hades cabin. Even though he was still the only kid in it, it was going to look pretty cool: solid obsidian walls with a skull over the door and torches that burned with green fire twenty-four hours a day.

[cloudyempress]

Storge || K. Muzan + Upper moons

✦ Fluff, comedy, manga spoilers, child!reader, reader is Muzan's daughter. 

- This was originally published in wattpad.

Storge (noun); familial love, the love of a parent towards offspring and vice versa.

                                   •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

They called you Little Misfortune. Spending time with you was a nightmare worse than disagreeing with Muzan. Your seven year old self could only think of their faces as a canvas to use the paint your father regularly buys you. A few minutes babysitting you was the equivalent of being in rainbow land and hell at the same time. And if you had a single, microscopic scratch at the end of the day, they would suffer severe consequences.

Kokushibo hated how much you'd tug his hair and make fun of his eyes, along with your hideous loudness. Hantengu ran away from you when he realized how deadly adorable you could be, forcing him to become tiny so you could put him inside your dollhouse. Gyokko had to put up with you breaking his pots and making disgusting faces whenever you saw him, also having to praise your artwork even if he disliked it. Gyutaro found you incredibly annoying, but loves when you disagree with him being ugly and laughs when you prank Daki. Talking about her, she's the upper moon that hates you the most since you gained all the attention from Muzan and you generally bothered her. Akaza was the nicest out of them, so you'd crawl onto his arms whenever you were scared or feeling tired. Finally, Douma loved you, finding it funny when you blushed at how cute he was or how much you adored playing with him.

Being born a demon, which was a extremely rare case (specially being born from a human and having a lot of human features like aging), you had gained your demon blood art early. This meant more trouble for the Upper moons, you could make them lose control over their arts and breaths (in the case of Kokushibo and other demon slayers).

It was a chaos when you first used it. Hantengu's turn of babysitting you turned into you getting lost in the Dimensional Infinity Fortress, Nakime not being able to know where you were and the rooms moving and shifting randomly. Once Muzan found out, he rushed the other upper moons into an emergency meeting.

"Why are you so incompetent? First the lower moons, and now you as well? Can't you just guard a fucking child?"

Everyone was in complete silence. They knew better than to mess with Muzan when he got angry about something happening to his dear daughter.

"I'm going to say this once. Find (Name) before I disband you. Now."

Not wasting time in saying 'yes', they all left to find you. As the fort was chaos, most of them got smashed into a wall or pushed to the ground. Luckily, Kokushibo had enough instinct to avoid those, quickly finding you eating a giant jar of your favorite ice cream with lots of oreos and sprinkles. You were stuffing your face with it and humming songs, until you noticed that his towering figure was standing next to you, his accusatory six eyes piercing through your soul. You stopped everything you were doing, standing up and taking a defensive pose.

"Come, (Name). Muzan-sama is..."

Before he could continue, you took out pieces of a flute from your dress' pocket and waved them in the air high enough for him to see. Kokushibo frowned in anger and confusion, wondering how you got your hands on his brother's flute, which he usually keeps on him.

"No! I won't give in to a hairy spider like you! I used to have nightmares about you, but now I am not scared!"

"Spiders have eight eyes, (Name)."

But you didn't listen, sticking out your tongue and throwing the pieces in the air, running away the second he shifted his gaze to them instead of you.

The fort was filled with your giggles, sounding like a music only two people liked but the others had to endure it. They just didn't stop until you found Gyokko's freshly painted pots, his colors begging you to smash them into the ground. You climbed the table and shoved them to the edges, then began jumping to see if they would fall or resist the vibrations of your weight against the table. They didn't, falling into the floor and becoming tiny pieces of what they once were.

"DAMN CHILD! HOW DARE YOU DESTROY THE GREAT GYOKKO'S ART?"

"Oops!" you turned around with a cheeky grin adorning your face.

Gyokko launched at you, gritting his teeth.

"I did you a favor! Now you'll have to throw them out in the trash, were they belong"

Before his hands could reach you, a wall as fast as lightning hit him so hard he ended up in another room altogether. You shrugged and kept running around.

Meanwhile, Gyutaro and Daki walked together, both complaining about the situation. He mainly listened to her whine while she rambled on how pointless looking for you was.

"Can't somebody shut up that horrying child laughter?" she screamed at the ceiling.

Gyutaro crossed his arms, he lacked the energy to explain to her how an annoying child worked. He knew it too well from taking care of her.

"I don't get why Muzan-sama wants her when he has me." Daki spread her hand in front of her face and started counting with her fingers. "I'm gorgeous, strong, loyal... and I'm not an stupid, loud-as-fuck child!"

"Ume" Gyutaro called, as the both of them kept walking straight.

"She's a pain! She takes all of Muzan-sama's precious time away."

"Ume" he stopped walking, Daki kept her pace as she was fixated on finding things to hate you for.

"She couldn't even speak properly when we first met her. All she does is cause trouble for us, that's why nobody likes her!"

"Ume!"

She turned around to face him, a vein popping out of her forehead.

"What?!"

"At least I'm not as stupid as you, miss whore! Daddy told me you were annoying yesterday."

All her hairs perked up when she heard your voice. She turned around to find you a few meters away from her, a bit shocked from hearing you insult her that way.

"Who taught you that word?" she placed her hand above her chest, surprise evident in her expression.

"I did" Gyutaro said, a smirk appearing in his face. He waved at you ignoring his sister's terrifying anger. "Hi there, little misfortune. Everybody's looking for you"

"You're not going to stop me?"

He shrugged, going back to his usual annoyed expression.

"Not me, but my sister is"

Daki jumped at you, almost not giving you time to react properly. You spit the gum you were chewing to put it on her hair. Her eyes widened in horror as she tried to take it off, letting you off her hands.

"Fuck you, (Name)! Come back here you damn brat!"

Gyutaro helped Daki take off the gum, you running away from them. The last thing you heard as you escaped was Gyutaro offering to cut off the damaged part of her beautiful long hair.

Your legs were short and you got tired of running after a few minutes. You collapsed on the ground to take in some air.

"Oh~ Are you tired, (Name)-chan?" Douma's playful tone made your eyes shine at the realization that he was there.

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were not only exhausted, but also feeling guilty of accidentally stepping on tiny Hantengu on your way there. It wasn't your fault he was terrified of your childishness and Muzan's rage, but you didn't notice he was in the way and stepped on him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry for causing all of this! Is just that Hantengu didn't want to play with me and I felt lonely! I don't want to be alone! Now everyone hates me!"

"Shhh... It's ok. You're an adorable little princess, nobody hates you."

He ruffled your hair as your teary eyes stare at his rainbow colored ones. They were both beautiful and calming for you, those colors made you think pretty things when you were sad.

"You don't hate me?"

"Of course I don't!"

"Then, will you marry me when I grow up?"

He chuckled, ruffling your hair again. Your cheeks were burning from embarrassment.

"Yes, su—"

Half of his head was suddenly cut off by a hand. You frown at Akaza, who seemed very angry at seeing Douma that close to you. Douma's head regenerated fast, his charismatic smile never leaving his features.

"Why are you proposing her marriage?"

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are. What the hell is your problem? I'm not going to let you put strange ideas into her innocent mind."

Akaza opened his arms at you so you could climb into him, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Little misfortune was feeling lonely and hated, so I simply made her feel happier. Now let me hold her" Douma tried to take you to him, but Akaza's grip on you was stronger.

"You try to make her feel happier by proposing? Also, you only eat women, why would I let you near (Name)?"

"Well, she's not human!"

"Can I marry you too?" you ask above the discussion, your voice silencing the both of them. You pulled away a little bit from Akaza's hold to look at him in the eye. "When I grow up, can I marry you too?"

Akaza's concerned look grew bigger by the second. Douma had an amused expression, holding in laugher. Akaza's gaze shifted from Douma to you, not knowing what to say. His face told a different story than you had intended. You leaped away from them, tears floading down your face again.

"Then I'll be alone my entire life!"

You started escaping again, covering your face with your hands. The upper moons attempted to use their arts to get you back, but failed as yours contradicted their use.

Douma sighed, then turned towards Akaza with a smile from ear to ear.

"You're not a great liar, are you?"

After running around all day, your energy was so low that you could barely walk without dragging your feet. Loneliness was the strongest and most shocking feeling you'd gotten in the seven years you had been alive. No mother, no siblings, only a father who'd mostly be working and babysitters who hated your guts. Facing the ground, lips curved downwards, you clearly weren't expecting crashing with something. Or more accurately, someone's legs.

It was Muzan, his stern expression changing into a softer one when he saw your defeated state. He opened his arms to engulf you into a hug, so you jumped at him with the strength you had left.

"I'm sorry, I felt lonely!"

"Why is that? You always have an upper moon to take care of you" he walked towards your room as he caressed your hair.

"But they hate me!"

"They don't hate you. Kokushibo's always worried about your health and safety. Gyokko and Hantengu try to enhance your talents in art since they know how much you love it. Gyutaro likes to make you laugh, and while Daki acts as if she hates you, she sew you a stuffed animal for your birthday by herself knowing that other stores didn't buy the plush you wanted. Douma plays with you all the time, of course he loves you. And Akaza is always there to keep him from crossing the line. They don't hate you, they are your family." he tucked you in your bed, a smile reaching his lips before you closed your eyes in order to sleep.

He leaned in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

"As I love you too."

                                 •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

[bitchin-beskar]

no body, no crime

Rating: M

Warnings: murderrrrrrr. allusions to smut. but like... murderrrrr.  (Actual warnings: mentions of infidelity, light descriptions of torture, allusions to murder, vague mentions of smut)

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 

A/N: So, this story is based off the song, no body, no crime from T. Swift’s new album, evermore. I listened to it, and immediately knew it was perfect for the bastard man himself. (Also, this fic is entirely @perropascal‘s fault, if she hadn’t posted the absolutely amazing fic (fucked my way) to the top featuring the asshole himself, I would never have even thought about him, so... blame her ;)) I hope y’all like this! (I will probably write a companion piece for this with actual smut, but I wanted to stick with the lyrics of the song for this one, and it just didn’t fit in. Believe me, I tried.)

P.S. You all should check @perropascal out. she’s amazing and this story is dedicated to her beautiful self!

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I’d love to hear what you guys think!!

“He’s cheating.”

You look over at your best friend, taking in her tired eyes and her slumped shoulders, the way that she desperately grips her glass of wine with two hands. She’s not been getting enough sleep, and its beginning to take it’s toll. 

“Did you catch him?”

You keep your voice soft, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself or Este. You’re at your regular table in the Olive Garden that you and Este have been going to since high school. Even though you’re in the back of the restaurant, and there aren’t any people at the nearby tables, Este looks like she’s about to break down, and you know she wouldn’t want an audience for that. 

“He’s coming home with stains around his lips. He says they’re from merlot, but I don’t believe him. And there’s jewelry purchases on our joint account, but it’s not mine.” 

She looks miserable, and you reach out, squeezing her hand tightly. You’d never liked Aaron, her husband. He always seemed a little off, a little too controlling and quick to anger, and your best friend deserved better dammit. 

“Do you have any ideas as to who he’s with?”

Este just shook her head miserably. “It’s probably someone from his work, but I have no idea who. No body, no crime, right?” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. 

Pushing your chair back, you stand up and move around to hug Este, pulling her into your arms and stroking her hair. She’s trembling like a leaf, and you wish you could take her pain away.

“I’ve gotta call him out,” she mutters into your shoulder. “I refuse to be the stupid housewife who pretends she doesn’t know just to save her marriage.”

You pull back slightly, a concerned look in your eyes. “I don’t trust him, Este. Be careful, okay? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Este nods, drying her tears. “I’ll be careful. I have to do this though. There’s no doubt in my mind, I have to call him out.”

***

The next week, you knew something was wrong. Este hadn’t answered your texts all week, and she wasn’t there at Olive Garden for your weekly dinner. She’d never missed a dinner night, not once. You called her workplace, only to find out she’d been out all week. 

Near frantic, you drove to the police station, hoping that they might have information, or at the very least, you could file a missing person’s report. To your surprise, however, a report had already been filed. 

When you asked who had filed it and when, the answer shocked you. Aaron had filed the missing person’s report last Tuesday. 

The same Tuesday that Este had told you she was going to confront Aaron about his infidelity. 

You asked if there was any chance the report’s filing date could be off, but the officer assured you that it wasn’t. A one Aaron Stover had filed a missing person’s report on his wife on Tuesday night, mere hours after you and Este had parted ways. 

You left the police station, shaken to your core. Your mind was racing as you tried to come up with a reason for why Aaron would have reported Este missing so quickly after you’d last seen her. Unfortunately, you knew there was only one logical explanation. He’d reported her missing because he knew that she was going to be missing. You were driving on autopilot, and when you finally began to pay attention again, you realized where you were.

Sitting behind the wheel of your car, you were parked across the street from Aaron and Este’s house. His truck was in the driveway, and you noticed he had four brand new, shiny tires. As you were watching, another car drove up, and a gorgeous woman got out of the driver’s seat. She walked up to the front door, and walked right into the house. You frowned. 

You noticed sweet old Mrs. Cratchit was gardening outside, and you quickly got out to speak with her. Mrs. Cratchit was a notorious gossip, and if anyone had seen or heard anything, she was bound to know. 

“Hi, Mrs. Cratchit!” You forced a cheerful tone into your voice, despite the dread that weighed heavy in your heart. “How are you?”

She looked up from her flowerbed, grinning toothily as she saw you. “Hello sweetie! It’s been far too long! I’m doing just fine, thank you. How are you, dear?” She paused, a slight frown maring her wrinkled features. “How is Este, dear? Have you talked to her?” 

Mrs. Cratchit didn’t pause for you to answer, instead plowing on. “It’s just shameful, what that husband of hers is doing. Shameful, I say! Bringing his little side piece into their home. Apparently, she’s a secretary at the same company. It’s just shameful.” She shook her head. “I even heard that the little trollop is sleeping over, if you know what I mean.” She winked at you, and you forced a strangled laugh. “Anyways, is Este doing alright?”

You opened your mouth to tell Mrs. Cratchit the truth, but the words caught in your throat. You still couldn’t believe that your best friend was missing, you didn’t want to believe it. 

“Este’s fine, Mrs. Cratchit. I should probably go, though. It was good seeing you!” You forced the lie out of your mouth, giving the sweet, clueless old woman a kiss on the cheek before heading back to your car, your mind racing. 

So not only was Aaron cheating on Este, he’d done something to her, and, instead of even acting concerned, he’d decided to move his mistress into your best friend’s house. Hell, his mistress was sleeping in Este’s bed! 

Furious, you decided then and there that you were going to do something about it. You knew he did it, but you just couldn’t prove it, not in a court of law. So, you’d have to take matters into your own hands. 

***

Planning a murder was surprisingly simple.

Your daddy made you get a boating license when you were fifteen, and he was more than willing to lend you his thirty-eight foot, 2000 Cruisers 3870 Express for a weekend on the lake. 

Your aunt cleaned houses for a living, and all you had to do was ask, and she was all too willing to give you what you needed. 

Este’s sister was an orderly at a small, local hospital, and it was all too easy for her to slip a tiny vial of succinylcholine into her purse one day after her shift. 

And Aaron. 

Poor, foolish, unsuspecting Aaron.

You’d just had to “accidentally” run into him one day after work, bat your eyes and run your hands over his chest as you invited him over for lunch. Playing the facade of a concerned well-wisher, wanting to make sure your best friend’s husband was doing alright in this horrible time, was ridiculously easy. Dress a little too low cut, heels a little too high, lips a little too red, it was easy to catch his attention. 

You’re sure he thought he would be warming your bed after your “lunch” but you had other plans. 

***

You heard a thump behind you, and you turned, seeing Aaron blinking blearily up at you, terror in his eyes. You left the controls of the boat, turning and yanking the duct tape off of his mouth violently. He whimpered at the sting, and you smirked. 

“W–W–What are you doing?! Are you insane?! I could have you arrested for this–”

You stood up, kicking Aaron in the gut, and he groaned, curling up as best he could with his hands duct taped behind his back.

“You could,” you drawled, placing your hands on your hips as you looked down at him condescendingly. “But it’s a little hard to have me arrested when you’re dead, darling.”

His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth and began screaming. You only laughed, waiting for him to run out of air. He finally had to stop, gasping for breath, at which point you knelt back down by his face, stroking his tear-stained cheek with one finger. 

“There’s one way you can get out of this alive Aaron. All you have to do is tell me one itty, bitty little thing. Think you can do that for me?”

He nodded frantically, terrified whimpers escaping from his throat as he tried to shuffle back from you, unsuccessfully. 

You patted his cheek sharply. “Good boy.” Gripping his chin, you jerked his face up so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “What did you do to Este?” 

At the look on Aaron’s face, you felt your heart sink. Aaron had never been good at keeping secrets, which is part of how Este had caught him cheating in the first place. The look on his face told you everything. Este was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. 

You quickly schooled your features. Though you were devastated, there was no way you were letting this bastard know that. He’d murdered your best friend in cold blood, all because he couldn’t stand the fact that he’d been caught cheating, and because he knew Este would leave him destitute when she took him to court. 

“Such a shame,” you tutted, voice dripping with venom. “I was really hoping you’d have a different answer for me.” 

Aaron immediately began to squirm, begging, pleading with you, trying to get you to spare his life. His pathetic whimpers had no effect, and you delivered another satisfying kick to his gut before turning and grabbing the bag holding the heavy cinder blocks and the padlock and chains. 

His eyes widened when he watched you pull out the chains and the cinder blocks, and you chuckled lowly. 

***

The police had questioned you, of course, but Este’s sister swore up and down that you were with her, so you were quickly eliminated as a suspect in Aaron’s disappearance. 

Jessica, Aaron’s mistress, wasn’t so lucky. She’d taken out a two million dollar life insurance policy on him, the stupid woman, which immediately made her the prime suspect. Apparently, she was also being looked at as a suspect in Este’s disappearance as well.

The news was making her out to be some kind of black widow, ruthlessly taking out anyone in her way to fame, glory, and riches. Honestly, they were laying it on a bit thick, but as long as they were focused on her and not you, it didn’t matter. 

But the cherry on the sundae was when your firm was hired by corporate executives from the company Jessica worked for, to conduct an investigation into both her and Aaron. Apparently, Aaron had been working on a rather sensitive project for the company, and now with his disappearance and the suspicion resting on Jessica, their company wanted to make sure that none of their projects would be compromised. 

Jessica was the reason your best friend was dead. You were going to make her life hell.

***

“Mr. Lord? There’s a young woman from that firm corporate hired here to see you.”

Maxwell looked up to see Cherrie standing in the doorway, and he took a moment to appreciate how her skirt made her legs look fantastic. She flushed prettily under his gaze, like always. 

“Thanks, babes, send her on in.” 

Max settled back into his chair, steepling his fingers as he waited for you to arrive. He’d been shocked when the bosses had told him one of his secretaries was the subject of a police investigation into the disappearance of another of his employees, Aaron. 

He’d also been shocked, and more than a little angry to find out that apparently, Jessica was sleeping with Aaron. One of his employees, sleeping with his secretary? It pissed him off, and if Aaron wasn’t already missing, he’d be tempted to kill the man. 

As he watched a gorgeous young woman step into his office, briefcase in hand and a smirk on her face, he felt his own smirk grow. He had a feeling things were going to get interesting.

***

You woke slowly, the faint sensation of touch ghosting across your bare back sending tingles down your spine. You smiled sleepily, sighing when a pair of lips pressed against your bare shoulder.

“Did I wake you, gorgeous?”

Rolling over, you looked at the man who lay propped up beside you, his blonde hair falling mused over his forehead. You’re both naked under the sheets, skin sweaty from the hours spent pressed into the mattress, against the wall, on the desk, and even the floor. 

“I should probably be getting up anyways, Max. I’ve gotta present my findings to the board on Jessica.”

Max chuckled, his hand tracing over your bare flesh, stroking the side of your breast, the gold of his rings cool against your skin. “Ah yes, the findings that prove her guilt in a corporate espionage scheme, those findings?”

You giggled, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pulled him closer to you, your lips ghosting over his. “It’s like I told you, darling. I’m not letting up until the day she dies.”

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[acrosstimeandspace]

attic blues

i wanted to do another relationship analysis sort of story like i did with asmo, but this time with belphie! i have plans to do one for barb and simeon too!

trigger warnings for: a bit of robotic gore, a tiny bit violence

Belphegor had only prepared for one unwittingly stupid human exchange student, yet here stood two. Obviously whoever stood near MC wasn’t Solomon, he’d be too smart to trust the demon. But it ticked him off exponentially to know that there were three bloody humans in the Devildom, made his blood boil and that urge to cause havoc to twist unpleasantly in his stomach, making it hard to play nice.

“I thought we had promised to keep this secret. Are you still upset that I lied to you, MC?”

“No, it’s not that!” MC shook their head, he could only see them, the other human was smart enough to hide their appearance. “I thought it’d be smart to try and get Rune in on this as well, to help warm your brothers up. They’re very friendly!”

“You make me sound like a pet dog.” The voice was soft, teasing in a way his brothers once had been.

“Oh shush!”

“So who is this Rune, exactly?” He pressed his face up against the gate, trying to get any form of a glance.

“He’s my brother! He ended up coming with me as well, accidentally. Don’t you want to introduce yourself?”

He heard Rune hum, then the shifting sound of clothes let him know they were resting against a wall. “I’m Rune, MC’s adopted brother. They say you want to try and patch things up with Lucifer?”

“Yes, and in order to do so I need you to get pacts with my brothers. It doesn’t matter who, so long as they trust you enough to open the door.”

“Hmm.” Belphegor saw MC look over to where Rune was, exchanging a look. “Okay then, we’ll try things out. Though if you do anything stupid though and I’ll kick your teeth in.”

MC let out an exasperated gasp, “Rune! Be nice! You’re not like this to the other brothers!”

“Ah, I can be like this to Lucifer. You know like when he tried to kill you?”

“Wait, that was you who tried to deck him?”

“Yup. Now c’mon, MC. Sorry Belphegor but we have to leave, so your brothers aren’t suspicious.”

He heard the walk away as MC gave a wave before leaving him all to his lonesome once again. Usually he’d hate it, stew in his anger. But he was intrigued, what a peculiar little human Rune was.

~

And then the almost daily visits from Rune started. At first Belphegor wondered if the tough guy stick was all an act, for Rune sure seemed to not be bothered by him. They’d come up, talk quietly about whatever to him for a while before saying their goodbyes. Rune had become one of his first real interactions outside of using MC or cursing Lucifer, and he soon started to crave them.

“You’re late.” He huffed, pouting despite the fact that he couldn’t see them.

“I don’t have a set schedule to see you, you know.”

“You have a pattern, nimrod.”

“Ah, is that it? Guess I have to wait longer for my next visit then, so your brothers don’t catch on.”

The statement was joking, he knew it was. Rune wouldn’t do that, yet it still flooded his nerves with panic.

“Don’t. Don’t leave. They have MC, they won’t notice, they’ll be fine.”

If he could have, he would’ve reached through the gate to them, keeping them close. That realization sent an unpleasant, fiery stone into his gut. What was he, some stupid, lovestruck human? He couldn’t become what he hated, what he wanted dead. He shouldn’t be craving them, needing them like this.

The pause Rune gave him made that stone hurt worse. Was what he said wrong? Then Belphegor saw Rune’s hand, resting outside his door. He didn’t move to try to see more of him.

“Sorry, I won’t joke like that again, okay?”

Belphegor swallowed thickly, “Whatever.”

Belphegor’s eyes didn’t leave Rune’s hand as he talked of random things, opening Belphegor up like some delicate package. He began to relax, that stupid human’s presence was soothing. Soon another feeling  replaced the fiery stone, much more pleasant and comforting. Even when silence lulled around them, the warmth wrapped pleasantly around Belphegor. He wished there was a blanket like that, to keep close to him at all times. He missed that type of comfort.

“I want to show you lots of things once I get out.” He spoke softly.

“I’ll be waiting for that. I promise it’ll come soon.” Belphegor liked the tone of Rune’s voice, it felt like a warm cup of tea.

“You have to go soon.”

“I promise I’ll come back sooner.”

Belphegor snorted, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Maybe. But maybe we’ll see each other in our dreams.”

For another time Belphegor was glad Rune couldn’t see him, his face heating up. He had many dreams about his human companion, many desires that he couldn’t believe. Waking up from each dream about a date or holding their hands under starlight put that fiery stone back in his gut and twisted it up red and angry until he wished he had dreamed of anything else. But he also didn’t want to dream of something different, wanted Rune to stay and keep that warmth that made him feel safe. How could a weak, squishy human make him like this? He wanted to scream.

He didn’t hear them say goodbye, which was a good thing. He hated hearing them go, hated it because the cold of the attic settled back into his bones and made him want to cry.

~

Freedom. No more gate no more attic he was free, he could do what he wanted. What did he want now? Belphegor only felt anxiety, he couldn’t comprehend this freedom, panic instead ate away. That painfully hot and angry stone was back to twisting up his gut, screaming and making him feel all of his grief and the coldness of the attic wouldn’t leave him. He should be free, be rid of this. Why was it still here? Why did it all hurt so much?

Seeing MC painted his vision irrationally red and bloodlust filled up his mind. It’d be so easy to do something so stupid. Get Diavolo to let go of his stupid little idea of humans being good. So he invited them in for a hug, which they took. He was going to threaten them, form shifting and horns protruding.

But MC ran, smarter than he thought. It stunned him a bit, he thought they were too naive. That should’ve cooled him down but it only fueled his anger.

He found MC in the foyer, about to do the unspeakable when a fist collided with his face and white hot pain flooded his brain, not even registering the crack of bone.

Belphegor looked up to see what he could only describe as a brunet Satan, if his irises were to swallow up his eyes and glow a soft green. The markings on this guy’s joints were aglow in the same way, arms poised to defend.

“I told you I’d kick your teeth in if you tried something dumb,” his voice was familiar, the pain that ebbed it’s way into his tone twisted at Belphegor’s heart. Perhaps if he were in a better state of mind the hurt that came with it would matter.

“Oh, what do you think a pathetic human can do? I’m going to do what should have been done when you got here. The reasons for Lilith’s death, I’ll make you suffer the way she did!”

He lunged again, grabbing hold of Rune’s — this had to be Rune, who he longed for but was now going to tear apart — arm, twisting it so it would break. He wanted them to shatter like Lilith.

It did, not in the way he expected it to. The tearing sound was like that of a machine, wires popping loose as the appendage came off. Belphegor stood there, dumbfounded. Machine. How could Rune be a machine when an undeniably human soul rested in his chest?

And then another swift feeling of pain hit his face as he fell back on his ass, letting go of the arm at impact. He was coming out of that fever, that rage of grief slowly.

After the front doors opened everything was a blur. He understood MC was Lilith’s descendant, that his sister had been reborn and lived a human life. That Rune was some sort of android and was MC’s bodyguard in the form a protective sibling. That he was somehow getting off light, despite the attempt of murder and actually injuring Rune.

It bothered him, bothered him that worse wasn’t happening. Bothered him that Rune seemed so nonchalant about his arm.

So when Beel wanted to go catch up, Belphegor first asked to see if Rune was okay. He had to make sure they were. Couldn’t rest until he was sure. What was going to happen to their arm now? What did they feel towards him? They should hate him, it felt like a rational emotion for the circumstances.

He barely peaked his head in, listening intently to Rune’s explanations to Satan and Levi about how he was going about to repair his arm. A hiss, a click and then a small “done” parted from Rune and he was fixed, a new arm attached.

He was going to release a sigh of relief, Beel’s hand on his back comforting as Rune was okay, until Levi let out a sharp gasp. He had grabbed at his arm, yanking Rune towards him. The grip on Rune should have been painful, especially since Levi had grabbed him so roughly, but both seemed to have frozen in shock.

“Oh, I forgot I wouldn’t be feeling anything there. It’s been so long since I’ve had to repair a limb I’ve forgotten the time it takes to readjust all the feelings to it.”

Belphegor stiffened before turning and running, wanting to sleep away everything like he used to. Rune couldn’t feel his arm because of him, Rune had been hurt because of him. How could he even think that he’d even want to be near him? The cold of the attic crept back in despite him clearly being in his and Beel’s room now, and it ached.

Beel was there too, rubbing his back and cooing. Cooing? Oh, Belphegor had been crying. He had been crying for Rune.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“You like them, Belphie. You feel guilty about what you did, but now you’re afraid of hurting them.”

“Again. I’d hurt them again. After they came and visited me nearly every day. A-after—“

“After you had begun to like them.”

It was a simple way of putting his feelings, ones that he had tried to bury in his furry. But Beel understood him better than anyone else, and knew he couldn’t handle the full truth quite yet. Because Belphegor couldn’t bear the idea of hurting another person he loved.

[masieofthevalley]

All I Really Want is You (Spideypool) - Chapter Thirteen

Find the Masterlist for this fic here! Read this fic on AO3! Check out my Ko-Fi if you would like a commission!

Summary: “Who are you, the big bad wolf?” She snarked. She mentally congratulated herself that her voice hadn’t betrayed the fluttering in her gut.

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?”

Peter Parker is an exhausted and overworked student in her senior year of college. Sleep-deprived and running on coffee and fumes, Peter really just wants to get through this semester. On a rare coffee run to ensure that she doesn't fall asleep on patrol or in her textbooks again, she quite literally stumbles upon Deadpool. Try as she might, she just can't stay away from him, and along the way, she finds herself in the middle of a nefarious plot between HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D.

A/N: Hello, everyone! Today’s chapter is Chapter Thirteen: Accidentally in Love. This chapter is named after the song Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows. 

I tried to look up a page of phrases you should say to order in Italian, but it didn’t go very well, so I’m very sorry about that. I used Google Translate when Wade was speaking with Italian, so please forgive me for that!

As always, there is a playlist for this fic, and you can find it on YouTube and Spotify. Spotify won’t play in order unless you have Spotify Premium. You don’t need to listen to it in order, but each chapter has a specific song associated with it. There is also a song associated with the entire fic, which is She Looks So Perfect by 5 Seconds of Summer.

This chapter does include NSFW content, and it’s toward the end of the chapter!

If you liked this chapter, like, share, and reblog, and please leave comments! They make my day, and I will gladly respond. You can also head over to my AO3 and comment there, and I will also respond there! Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen: Accidentally in Love

Chapter Summary: Peter and Wade’s date ends in a surprise visit to a skatepark, and Peter makes a startling revelation. 

“Right this way, Bambi. Best seats in the house,” Wade proclaimed with a sweep of his arm, indicating that Peter should climb into the booth. They were at a tiny, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant; Peter wasn’t sure how far away they were from Sister Margaret’s because she had been distracted during their walk by the chatter coming out of Wade’s mouth, but it couldn’t have been that far from the bar. There were two tiny windows on either side of the restaurant’s door, but they were blacked out, creating a suspicious-looking building, at least from the outside. Until the moment they had walked in the door, Peter was worried that Wade had taken them to the wrong place. But, no, they were in the smallest restaurant that Peter had ever been in, and it was very warm and smelled like garlic and parmesan cheese. 

Peter climbed into the booth and put her coat down beside her. Compared to the frigid temperatures outside, the restaurant was a tropical paradise. Wade showed no sign of discomfort from the heat, however, as he sat down opposite her on the other side of the table. Peter noted that not only had he chosen the only table in a corner, but he had also sat on the side of the table that would grant him the view of the entire restaurant. She wondered if that was leftover ingrained training from his time in the Special Forces, or maybe it was a part of his mercenary training instead? Knowing the layout of a room seemed like an essential skill for someone with Wade’s job. Bad Peter, focus on Wade, not his job. 

And like that, she was zeroing in on Wade, who was squirming around in his seat while looking at a handwritten menu made out of cardstock. Peter picked hers up, and after realizing that she couldn’t read any of it but the names of a few types of noodles since it was written in Italian, she quickly set it back down. Wade perked his head up, and his mask raised an eyebrow. 

“Need some help there, Bambi?” Peter shook her head and played with one of the napkins that were on the table. Her cheeks still had yet to recover from their almost kiss back at Sister Margaret’s, and the heat in the restaurant was doing nothing to calm the redness in her face. 

“Order anything you want, Baby Girl. Tonight’s on me,” Wade cheerfully announced, setting his menu down too. 

“I have money, Wade. I can pay for me if not both of us,” Peter argued, frowning at him. Irritatingly, Wade just laughed in response. 

“No can do, Baby Girl. If I let you pay, you’d be bankrupt into next year. You don’t know how much pasta I can put away yet, but you will pretty soon,” Wade chuckled, mimicking wiping a tear away from his eye lenses. Peter scowled; it seemed that Wade didn’t know exactly how much pasta she could put away either. 

“I mean it, I just got paid. I’m good!” Peter promised, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Wade stopped laughing and tilted his head. Not for the first time, Peter wondered what he was thinking. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, Honey, or offend you,” Wade said softly, one hand coming up and across the table to cup Peter’s cheek. She desperately wanted to lean into it, to feel his fingers tangle in her hair, but she also wanted to stand her ground. 

“I’ve just got a lot of money laying around that I never spend, and I’d rather you spend your paycheck on things you actually need like groceries or something. And I eat a lot, Sweetheart, I’m afraid I’d put you out on the street,” Wade continued, his thumb running back and forth over Peter’s cheek. It was so close to her bottom lip, she could almost taste the leather. 

“I know you make a lot of money, it’s just, I can take care of myself too,” Peter muttered, wholly distracted by Wade’s hand. He pulled it away, setting it down on the table between them, and Peter had to restrain herself from letting loose the most desperate whimper known to man. However, she must have done a horrible job at disguising her desires because Wade barked out a laugh. 

“Fine, you brat, here, take it back,” Wade conceded quietly, settling his hand back on Peter’s cheek. Peter allowed herself one sigh, and she held onto Wade’s hand for a few seconds with her own before she put both of them down on the table. Sheepishly, she looked back up at Wade. The smile stretching his mask was blinding. 

“I’m not denying you can take care of yourself, Peter,” Wade finally said, rapping the knuckles of his free hand on the table. “But I did pick the restaurant after all, and I’d just like to spoil you a little. Let me? Next time, you can pay, cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye!” 

“M’not sure that’s how that goes,” Peter shook her head with a small smile before straightening as she realized what Wade had said. “Next time?” 

“Well, if tonight goes well, which so far, it is,” Wade smirks with a pointed look at their clasped hands. Peter’s blush burned brighter. “I’d like there to be a ‘next time,’ Bambi.” 

“Me too,” Peter confessed, her voice barely audible. Their quiet moment was interrupted by a waitress coming up to their table. They had been talking while they waited for at least half an hour, but the restaurant was completely full. 

“Cosa vorrebbe ordinare?” she asked, leaning her hip against the table. Peter, now feeling self-conscious, hastily tried to let go of Wade’s hand, but his grip was steel tight, and he refused to let her go. 

“Una grande ciotola di spaghetti per favore,” Wade said confidently, and Peter was pretty sure he butchered every word of that sentence. It sounded like Wade had just spoken directly from Google Translate. Like she agreed with Peter’s thoughts, the waitress rolled her eyes and turned to Peter, raising an eyebrow as she waited for him to speak. 

“Grande lasagna,” Peter said with a straight face, knowing good, damn, and well that she sounded like an American tourist. It looked like the waitress was fighting a grin, but she just nodded with another roll of her eyes and left. She came back almost immediately with two cups of water and plopped those on the table. 

“Where’d you learn Italian?” Peter asked Wade as she drained half of her glass, suddenly nervous that she was left alone with him again. What the fuck was wrong with her? 

“Google Translate,” Wade deadpanned, and Peter nearly choked on her drink. She coughed a few times and took one more sip before putting her cup down. 

“No wonder it sounded so bad,” Peter snarked. “I never said Italian was my specialty, you brat,” Wade squawked, “I took Spanish in high school, if you must know.”

“Oh, so what can you say in Spanish?” Peter played along, eyebrows raised in questioning. 

“¿Donde esta la biblioteca?” Deadpool asked with a shit-eating grin on his mask. Peter burst into laughter, snatching her hand back so she could clutch at her stomach with both hands. Her face hurt from the smile stretched across her face. She couldn’t remember the last time she laughed this much. 

“Holy shit, Petey-Pie, keep on smiling. Baby Girl, it’s gotta be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Wade marveled, his own smile gentle and warm. Peter continued to giggle softly until her amusement was gone, leaving her with a pleasant and tender feeling in her chest. 

“Oh, please teach me your ways, Professor Wilson,” Peter teased, batting her eyelashes coquettishly. Even though she wasn’t looking at Wade, Peter could feel that the air between them was stretched thin with tension. 

“Oh, Baby Girl,” Wade growled, and Peter immediately felt her insides twist together in a knot. “There are so many things I’ll teach you, just you wait.” 

Peter swallowed, and against her wishes, the smallest of whines left her throat. Wade closed his eyes in what looked like restraint and groaned quietly, shifting in his seat. Before either one of them could say another word, their waitress was back, sliding large pasta bowls in front of each of them. The smell of fresh tomato sauce and mozzarella broke through the fog covering Peter’s brain, and her stomach gurgled. 

“Grazie!” Wade chirped, tucking a napkin into the neck of his suit. The waitress rolled her eyes with a laugh and a smile in Peter’s direction before walking off again. 

Peter grabbed her fork and dug into her plate. She moaned at the first bite; it was the first proper meal that she’d had in weeks. Her paychecks had been small the last few months; Triple J hadn’t been giving her nearly as many assignments as usual, and that meant ramen noodles for every meal except breakfast. Breakfast was always one cup of - usually, instant - scalding hot coffee with entirely too much sugar. God, she hadn’t even had Starbucks since that first week after she met Wade. What she wouldn’t give for another cappuccino. 

Peter looked up, trying to distance herself from her longing thoughts of Starbucks, and noticed that Wade hadn’t started eating yet. His mask still covered his entire face, and he appeared to be making no effort to remove it. 

“Wade? Aren’t you hungry?” Peter asked, wiping away the sauce that was probably all over her mouth. She tilted her head to the side as the expression on Wade’s mask remained the same. 

“No, you go ahead, Baby Girl, I’m fine,” Wade said, his voice almost sounding authentic, but Peter knew better. She could hear the false notes in his tone, and his posture was too stiff to be relaxed. 

“Look, if it’s the mask, it’s no big deal, it’s fine, really!” Peter promised, her hands gripping onto the edge of the table. Wade shook his head. 

“No, Honey, honest, just go ahead and eat-”

“Look, I’ll put on my beanie.” Peter stuck her hand in her coat pocket, grateful that she had brought her hat after all. “And I’ll just keep my eyes down, and you can just eat like normal, it’ll be fine!”

“God, I do not deserve any of this, don’t deserve you,” Wade whispered, and if Peter hadn’t had gotten enhanced hearing from the Spider Bite™, she never would have heard it. 

“Keep your hat off, Sweetheart. You shouldn’t have to cover up your lovely face just so my ugly mug can eat. Just don’t want you to lose your appetite is all,” Wade insisted, putting a hand over Peter’s. She cautiously dropped it onto the table with a raised eyebrow and looked down at her food anyway when Wade started to roll up his mask. 

“You can look. Just make sure you lean over when you blow chunks,” Wade muttered, and he picked up his fork and started to poke around at his spaghetti. Peter looked up in a cursory glance, and her next bite of lasagna never made it into her mouth. Instead, her hand stopped dead in its tracks and just kind of dangled there in front of her face. 

Wade had only rolled his mask up to the bridge of his nose, but Peter could still tell that he was gorgeous. His jawline was sharper than it looked through his mask, and Peter wanted to cut herself on it and watch the blood drip down his neck. Wade’s skin was pale pink and covered and crisscrossed with scars that were just slightly darker in color, and each of them appeared to be different. There wasn’t any pattern or rhythm in them that Peter could make out. Wade’s nose was slim, and Peter’s eyes were finally drawn to his lips. They were full and flesh-colored, covered in the same scars that made up the rest of Wade’s skin, but Peter didn’t care. Peter’s mind went blank with want, the urge to kiss Wade so strong and present, and she had to restrain herself from crawling across the table and plopping herself down in his lap. 

“Well, you don’t look like you’re going to projective vomit everywhere,” Wade commented, shoving another bite of spaghetti in his mouth. He was eating at a pace that rivaled Peter’s, and the only thing that made Peter even slightly squeamish was the fact that he had talked with his mouth full. 

“Huh?” Peter asked, still looking at Wade’s lips. 

“Earth to Petey-Pie, I”m up here,” Wade said, chuckling a little at the end. He waved his hand a few times in front of Peter’s face, and she shook her head as she broke herself from her trance. 

“M’sorry, didn’t mean to stare,” Peter muttered as she picked up her fork again. When had she dropped it? She managed to eat two more bites before the thoughts floating around in her head left her mouth. 

“Just really pretty,” Peter whispered, cheeks burning hot. “Your lips are like wow, and your jaw is like woah, and your chin is really pretty and your dimples, s’nice.” God, she wished she could stop talking. Why couldn’t she stop talking? She used to do this shit with Gwen too, and she would just laugh and kiss Peter to shut her up. Would Wade do that? She wanted him to do that. 

“You are just a dream come true, Baby Girl. Never gonna let you go,” Wade murmured, a soft look coming over his face. His face was so much more expressive - how was that even possible? - without his mask, and Peter nearly swooned. She bit back her response, hiding it under her tongue. Even though his comment had been a little extreme, especially for a first date, Peter had a feeling that “Yes, please,” wasn’t the right response. At least, not yet. 

They made idle chit-chat through the rest of their meal, and Peter was extremely pleased that Wade didn’t roll his mask back down when they finished. While getting ready to leave, Wade asked what was wrong, and Peter was forced to own up to the grumpy expression on her face. 

“Don’t wanna go home yet,” Peter confessed, tugging on the ends of her coat. A big smile coated with mischief crossed Wade’s face. 

“I know just the place, Sweetheart,” he said, scooping up her skateboard from the floor. He offered it to her, and she carried it out of the restaurant in her freehand. 

Full and content, Peter left the restaurant, happy to let Wade guide them to wherever he had decided they needed to go. They walked for about fifteen minutes, going up one street, across another, and then making a left onto one final street. Their destination appeared to be a skatepark, and at almost 11 PM at the end of October, it was entirely empty. 

“Figured you could skate off dinner if you wanted,” Wade said with a shrug, nodding his head to Peter’s board. “Y’know, ‘he was a skater boy, she said see you later boy,’ and all that shit.” 

Peter laughed and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s cool with me. You want me to show you a few tricks?” 

“If you want,” Wade agreed, leading them into the abandoned skatepark. Once inside, he fell back, so Peter took the reigns to guide them further into the park. She’d been here once or twice before, so she took him over to one of the half-pipes and gestured that he should sit. Peter shrugged out of her coat, much to Wade’s protests, and she threw it at him with a grin over her shoulder. 

“Keep it warm for me!” She shouted as she took off down the half-pipe. The coat was too thick to skate with comfortably, and she’d get too hot too quickly to have any kind of fun. When she looked back at Wade, he was snuggled up beneath the fabric, and she laughed. It looked like doll clothes spread out over his lap like that. 

“Yeah, keep laughing, Short-Stuff! I’ve got the best view in the house right here lookin’ at you, Honey-Buns!” She was wondering when Wade was going to make his first ass comment of the night. 

Peter spent a few moments getting her momentum, just going up and down on the half-pipe. She hadn’t been to a skatepark in a while, and she was a little rusty as far as tricks went. She did a few basic ones for Wade, pausing between each one to smile at his clapping and cheering before moving on to some of the more complicated ones. She skated around the park a few times before making her way back to Wade. She set her board down gently in front of her. 

“How’d I do?” she asked, shaking her fringe out of her face. Wade stood up with a leer, and Peter gulped. Wade moved toward her, and she backed up, matching him step for step. He moved gracefully, like a predator, and Peter’s blood started to race as she realized that this was the first time since she became Spider-Woman that she was the hunted instead of the hunter. She liked it, liked feeling like prey when it was Wade who was the predator. 

“It’s a 10 from me, Sweetheart,” Wade crooned, stepping even closer. Peter looked from side to side, trying to figure out if there was somewhere for her to go. She took a few steps to the right, and Wade matched her pace, pushing himself even closer. She had a thought of making a break for it, Wade chasing after her, his hot breath panting down her neck. That made her insides warm even further. She’d save that for another day. 

“Did you like performing for me, Bambi?” Wade asked, pressing himself flush against Peter. Her back was pushed up against the chain-link fence, and Peter tangled her fingers in the links on either side of her, trying to resist from reaching out and touching Wade. 

“Asked you a question,” he reminded, gently, his voice firm but still warm. Peter opened her mouth to respond but nothing came out. She just nodded, her body on fire from Wade’s touch. 

“Saw you looking to the side, looking around like you were gonna run, Petey-Pie,” Wade continued, running his nose down the side of Peter’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed at the feeling of his skin just barely brushing against hers. 

“You wanna run, Baby? Want me to chase after you?” Wade’s lips were at Peter’s ear, and she shivered, the metal from the fence digging into her fingers. One of Wade’s hands reached out and gently grasped onto her hands one at a time, freeing them from the cold fence. He gathered them both in his hand and held them against his chest, letting go when Peter tangled her fingers in the straps of his suit. 

“You’d like it, running around with nowhere to go,” Wade whispered, licking a wet, hot stripe up Peter’s neck. It contrasted with the biting cold of the wind, and the whimper that left Peter’s throat was strangled and torn apart. She couldn’t remember ever making a noise that sounded like that.

“You might be fast, Bunny, but I’m faster,” Wade suddenly growled, biting down at the junction between Peter’s neck and shoulder. She cried out, head falling back against the fence. It bent beneath her weight, but she didn’t care. 

“Please, Wade, please, please,” she begged, but she didn’t know what she was begging for. She wanted to kiss him, she wanted to bite him, she wanted to touch him. 

“M’here, Sweetheart, I have you,” Wade assured her, his lips caressing her jaw. She whined. His mouth was so close and yet so far from where she wanted it.

“Mm, please? Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Peter gasped when Wade’s kisses turned sharp and biting on her neck, sucking so hard it was bound to bruise. Good, she wanted the marks, wanted the reminder when she looked in the mirror. 

“Gotcha, Honey, I gotcha, don’t worry,” Wade murmured, bringing his lips up to Peter’s. Much to her displeasure, he didn’t immediately kiss her. Peter whined as he brushed their lips together. He was tall, Wade was so tall, so when Peter tried to rise up on her toes to chase after him, he easily broke apart from her. He waited until she settled back against the fence, and then he was on her again, body pressed against hers as close as possible. Peter arched her back and whimpered, trying to press closer, trying to get his mouth back on hers. 

“Spoiled, spoiled, little Petey-Pie,” Wade chuckled, taking his lips away again. Peter growled in irritation; he was just being mean now, and he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“You’re being mean!” she snarled, pulling down on the straps of his suit so that he was leaning over her again. Wade smirked and held himself just a few inches out of reach, and Peter stretched up on the balls of her feet while simultaneously pulling Wade toward her. Finally, he was within reach, and she bit down on the free, beautiful skin of his neck. It wasn’t gentle. 

“Fuck! That hurt, you brat!” Wade growled playfully, caging Peter in against the fence. She bared her teeth at him right back, and even though she couldn’t see something in his eyes, she swore she could see something change in them. Before she could try to think about what that something could be, Wade finally kissed her. 

Peter had only kissed approximately three people in her entire life: Mary Jane, Harry Osbon, and Gwen. She and Mary Jane had ended long ago, as had her and Harry, so her last experiences with anyone had been with Gwen. Gwen had been sweet and gentle, and the furthest they had gone was the furthest Peter had ever gone with anyone: exploring each other’s tonsils and playing footsie under the table. Gwen was sweet and warm and gentle, and Peter would never, ever forget her. 

But this, Wade, was hot and harsh and unyielding. It was everything that Peter had ever wanted but had never been able to have. Wade’s mouth was rough, skin uneven from the scars that she had longed to taste, but he tasted of marinara sauce and home. He tasted like hope and electricity. 

Peter didn’t have a good track record with relationships, with keeping people, but her heart whispered Wade’s name over and over again as they kissed, and she thought maybe this time, maybe she could keep this one, this time. 

Peter wrenched her head back with a gasp, unhappy to part from Wade but needing to breathe. He seemed inclined to agree as his mouth just moved to her jaw, sucking what she was sure was going to be another bruise in a few hours. Peter fell into a fit of soft whimpers, trying to get him to suck, bite, harder. Any marks that Wade made would just disappear before tomorrow, and she wanted them to remain as long as possible, so she could remind herself tomorrow that this was real, that Wade was real. 

“Have you ever done this kind of thing before, Baby Girl?” Wade murmured against her skin, lips moving back up to her own. She caught his hand before it could tangle in her hair, and she tapped on his glove in a questioning manner, hoping he would get the memo and take them off. She wanted to feel his hands on her skin, needed the relief that skin-to-skin contact would bring. 

“N-not really, no,” Peter whispered, surging upwards to kiss Wade again. “Want this, want you.” 

“Are you sure, Sweetheart? You tell me to stop, we stop. Push me away now, tell me red, tell me anything but yes, and I’ll stop right now. We can just go home, and it’ll be fine,” Wade said firmly, lips gently resting against hers. Peter nodded and whined. 

“Yes, I want you, Wade. Yes, please, yes-” Peter’s cries were cut off as Wade took her lips in another kiss. She didn’t think she was a very good kisser, and she didn’t really know what she was doing, but she mostly just tried to copy what Wade was doing. Tentatively, she slid her tongue along his, darting back into the safety of her own mouth when he chased after her. Peter whimpered at the taste of Wade, sharp, salty, almost metallic, and Wade growled in response, pressing her back against the fence. It bent further, but neither of them seemed to care. 

“Gonna take care of you, Sweetheart, don’t you worry,” Wade promised, sliding one hand up her stomach and under her shirt toward her breasts. Peter groaned as he reached her bra, hand slipping underneath to stroke and gently pinch her nipples. Her body was on fire, and she was on edge, suddenly rocking forward against Wade’s thigh. He moaned, his voice muffled from where his head was pressed against her shoulder, and shoved his thick leg between hers, tensing as she squeezed her thighs on either side of his leg. Wade was so much, shoulders so wide and muscles so big, that Peter felt dainty and small in his arms even though she knew that they probably weighed around the same amount. Her legs would dwarf a normal person’s, but Wade’s, full of thick, corded muscle, gave her a run for her money. She arched her back again and ground against Wade’s thigh, letting him know just how much she appreciated his size. 

“So big,” Peter gasped out, head falling back as Wade continued to toy with her nipples. It was like he knew exactly where to touch her, exactly where to pull and push. He pinched one of nipples and flicked the other one, earning himself a high-pitched whine of his name. His other hand tangled in Peter’s hair, pulling her toward him, and Peter bit his lip when he kissed her again. That earned her a growl. 

“S’good, fuck, right there, Wade! So right, want you, more, please?” Peter begged. Wade obliged her, and Peter lost all of the air in her lungs when his hand slipped in her pants. Peter cried out as Wade’s fingers swiped against her, warm, thick fingers moving quickly over her underwear. 

“Christ, you’re fucking soaking wet, Baby Girl,” Wade groaned, nosing at her temple. Peter cried out as his fingers moved faster, circling her clit. “This all for me, Honey?” 

“Just you, Wade.” Peter could barely breathe. “More, more, please, fuck, right there.” 

“The mouth on you, little Bunny,” Wade growled, his voice sounding more animalistic than before. His body was tense and firm against hers, and Peter couldn’t help humping against his leg and fingers. It felt good, too good, she never wanted this to stop, oh why hadn’t they done this sooner, it was so good. 

“Almost there, Petey-Pie? Gonna be a good girl and come for me, hmm?” Wade’s voice was feral, and Peter could feel his interest, hot and hard against her hip. He ground his hips against her, moving his fingers across her clit and nipples in a rhythm that Peter couldn’t follow. 

“Please, please, can I, Wade, more, please,” Peter begged, catching Wade’s lips. “Please, let me, c’mon, wanna come, wanna come on your fingers, please, please.” 

“Be good and come for me, Sweetheart, c’mon, c’mon, Baby Girl. Come for me,” Wade urged, fingers moving at the same pace, and Peter had no choice but to obey. 

Peter’s body shivered and locked up as she fell over the edge. As she came and collapsed against Wade’s chest, she felt like she was laying outside on the grass on a summer day. She could feel the warm, comforting rays of the sun on her skin, and her whole body tingled from the pleasure coursing through her veins. She vaguely realized that Wade’s fingers hadn’t stopped moving on her body, and she shivered as the direct stimulation on her clit became too much. Usually, when she used either her hands or the toys in her bedside drawer, she stopped touching herself almost immediately after her orgasm. She was almost always too sensitive for another orgasm immediately, and her hands would fly away from herself as she fell over the peak. Wade, however, continued to touch her until she squirmed and whined and begged him not to. 

“Too much, too much, Wade,” Peter panted, even as she continued to rock her hips against him. Wade, she realized, was panting too, and he slowly stopped moving his hands over her body, slipping them from beneath her clothes. Peter tried to straighten up, but her knees were weak, so she continued to slump against Wade as she righted her clothing. Wade chuckled and kissed her, lips moving almost lazily against hers now. 

“So good, Baby Girl, so sweet, absolutely perfect,” Wade said, his voice almost a purr from how low it was. 

“Was it good for you? It was, oh my god, it was absolutely perfect for me, but, you, was it good for you?” she asked, suddenly worried because she hadn’t touched him at all. God, she still wanted to touch him. “Did you, ya know.” God, the gesture she was making toward his dick was so stupid. “Oh, did I,” Wade laughed, pulling Peter against him with a soft groan. “I came when you did, Sweetheart. That look on your face when you came will haunt all of my wet dreams for eternity. It’s enough spank bank material to last me until I’m old and gray.” 

“Wade!” Peter laughed, hitting his chest playfully. Wade joined in her laughter, and they rested against each other and the fence, a soft smile on Peter’s lips as she waited for her heart rate to calm back down. 

And right there in a vacant skatepark, just a few minutes past midnight, Peter realized she was in love. Oh, fuck.

[clownsgobeepbeep]

So, it is war between us!

Skiiiiiiin

Hopefully this is good ^^'

“Can we watch Boorhees after?”

“You wanna watch Friday the 13th after this one?”

“Yes!”

Davey gave a nod as he chuckled, sitting in front of his nephew who immediately dropped the topic in question. His attention had soon returned to the items before him: large papers and small tubs of paint that he constantly dipped his little fingers into. He then smeared the paint onto the papers, attempting to paint a tree.

“What kind of a tree is that?”

“A me tree.”

“Me tree?”

“No, me!” Rowan giggled as he pointed to himself, accidentally painting a red dot onto the apron he wore to prevent a big mess.

“A you tree?”

“Nooo, me!” the toddler repeated before Davey gave a laugh.

“Oooh! A rowan tree!”

“Ye.” Rowan nodded as he painted little red dots onto the tree, these resembling the berries on the trees. “What you making?”

“I’m painting a jellyfish. Like the ones your mama Jelly likes.” Davey spoke as he presented his painting, noticing that Rowan hadn’t even looked up from his own art. Davey quietly chuckled to himself before turning his attention to his other nephew who was seated on the couch behind the pair. “How you doing Basil?”

Basil’s eyes were practically glued on the TV screen that was on the other side of Basil and Rowan, Halloween 2 playing on the screen. In his little hand was a stick with cotton candy that he bit into every now and then.

“Oh, I’m fine Uncle Davey. I love the movie and cotton candy my Auntie Ally made.” Davey spoke in a high pitched voice before using his own voice. “Oh that’s so good to know Basil. Nice that you’re having fun.”

Davey looked over at the screen, of course Basil would be so entertained with Michael Myers chasing down his victims.

“Davey? Sweet Cheeks?”

“Y-yes?” Davey’s cheeks slightly flushed at the sound of one of the many nicknames his wife used for him.

“Dinner’s ready! Should I bring the bowls over or could you bring the boys?”

“Um…” Davey glanced over at the toddlers who were each still occupied with their own things, but he knew how to get the attention of at least one of them. “Who’s ready for some pasta?”

“Pasta!?” Rowan piped up, nearly spilling one of the cups of paint as he hopped onto his feet and nearly ran to the kitchen. Davey however caught him mi-air.

“Whoa, whoa. Slow down there.” he laughed as he set the squirming Rowan down, then standing up himself. “We’ll be there in a bit Ally.”

“ ‘Kay!” Ally called back as bowls being moved around were heard, starting to be set up.

Davey picked up the TV remote to pause the movie, receiving a sudden reaction from Basil who whipped his head around, almost offended.

“Relax, we’re just gonna go eat now. It’s dinner time.” Davey assured him, Basil giving him a look before giving in and sliding off the couch. With the hand that didn’t hold onto his cotton candy, he took Davey’s hand as Rowan took the other. Together, they all made their way to the dining room.

“What make Auntie Ally?” Rowan asked his aunt as they saw her setting down the bowls of food.

“I made some pasta with pesto sauce.” Ally described as she handed Rowan a silicone fork after she helped him onto a chair. “And do you know how the pasta is shaped?”

“How?”

“It’s shaped like bunnies!” Ally exclaimed which in turn made Rowan gasp loudly, and he excitedly waved his arms around as he looked down at the bowl of green pasta.

“Yeeesss!” Rowan cheered before digging his fork into the pasta, immediately shoving the gathered pasta in his mouth. “I wuv it!”

“I’m so glad.” Ally giggled before watching Davey help Basil up onto his own chair, the toddler being handed his own silicone spoon much to his dismay. Not even forks were harmless in his tiny 4-year old hands. “Hopefully Basil also likes it.”

“I’m sure he will.” Davey grinned as he pulled a chair out for Ally, hearing her whisper a thank you before he took his own seat.

“It’s sooooo good!” Rowan agreed as he shoved more of the pasta bunnies into his mouth, almost finishing the plate. In turn, he coughed as he choked just a bit. Nothing too bad.

“Whoa, slow down!” Davey laughed as he patted Rowan’s back. “I know it’s good, but take it easy, kay? I need you alive for when she picks you up.”

“Okay!” Rowan happily swung his little legs as he continued to eat his pasta a bit more calmly.

Davey looked over at Basil who scooped up his pasta in a much tranquil manner.

“You enjoying the pasta, Basil? I’m sorry we couldn’t find any shapes you would like.” Davey ruffled his nephew’s hair. “We could try to get you some dinosaur shaped ones. Or maybe Halloween ones with little bats and pumpkins.”

“Pumpkins.”

“Yeah, pumpkins.” Davey nodded before hearing Ally drop her fork on her plate, and he looked up at her, taking notice of her shocked expression. “What?”

Davey blinked as Ally’s eyes peered at Basil who continued on with his pasta business.

“Basil, do you want the Halloween pasta?” Ally asked the toddler who gave a nod.

“Halloween.” he repeated after her, a hint of an Australian accent present.

“Oh my god.” Davey now realized. “I...I have to call my sister!”

“Indeed.” Ally smiled as she gently pinched Basil���s cheek. Basil in turn, only continued to eat his pasta as if nothing grand had ever happened.”

_____________

“Skin. Skiiin. Skiiiiiin.”

“Rowan, why are you saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“Skin. Why are you saying that?” Ally asked as she tucked the boys into her and Davey’s bed, letting them sleep there until their parents came to pick them up.

“Oh. Because I hear it a lot.” Rowan shrugged with a giggle as he snuggled into the blankets and pillows, cuddling with his plush bunny that Ally handed to him.

“Where do you hear it?”

“My room. At night. After mommy and daddies go to sleep.” Rowan smiled as Ally gave him a weird look. “Stops when deer daddy comes.”

“Davey?” Ally called out to her husband that soon came into the bedroom.

“Yeah?”

“Um, I think maybe we should stay in the room with the boys.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” Davey held Ally’s hand as she stood up and led him a bit away from the boys.

“Rowan was saying he constantly hears something saying ‘skin’ in his room. It is heard when their parents go to sleep.” Ally whispered, filled with concern as Davey looked at the boys for a moment.

“I’m...I’m sure it’s nothing. I know these boys and I know their parents; they would have realized if something was up with their boys. Especially with how talkative Rowan can be.”

“I...I guess that’s true.”

“And look, if anything, I have a feeling it might just be Basil. We just learned he actually speaks, so...I dunno...skin might be a word he really likes and he says it when his parents head off.”

“That would make a bit of sense.” Ally gave a smile as she felt a bit more comfortable. It really did make sense, and had it really called for any concern, Davey would have known. “Okay. Let me just finish tucking them in and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Sounds good.” Davey nodded. “You still up for Candyman?”

“Of course.” Ally returned the gesture before speaking in a volume she hoped Rowan wouldn’t hear. “Make sure to get the cheese puffs.”

“On it.” Davey snickered with a grin before making his way out, Ally then returning to the boys.

“Auntie, are you gonna read story?” Rowan sweetly asked before Ally sat at the edge of the bed to ruffle his hair.

“I already read you a story. Two, in fact.”

“I want another oooone.”

“No, no. You have to take a nap. Then I can read you another one.” Ally leaned down to kiss the top of Rowan’s head.

“Okie.”

“Okie.” Ally repeated before turning to Basil. “Don’t think I forgot about you.”

Basil gave Ally a side look before his eyes looked back to the front, soon shutting as he played coy.

“Basil,” Ally laughed before leaning over to now kiss his cheek. “Such a cutie. I also have your little Sin-A-Ma-Jig.~”

Basil now opened his eyes before he turned to his side, being handed his singing toy that he squeezed a few times.

“Skin-na-ma-rink.” Ally sang with the toy before fixing the blankets that covered Basil. “You boys have a good night. Sweet dreams, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

“Good night Auntie.” Rowan yawned before he hugged his bunny tighter, soon going out as it too Basil a few moments to finally fall asleep too.

Ally smiled at the sight of the peacefully slumbering twins before turning off the lights, making sure to leave on a small projector that made stars on the ceiling. She left the door a little open before walking down the hallway, soon entering the living room where Davey laid on a couch with blankets and a large bowl of cheese puffs.

“How are they?” Davey asked before shifting so that Ally could comfortably lay between his legs.

“Both went out like a light.” she responded as she snuggled against his chest, feeling Davey drape a blanket over the two which already had Ally shutting her eyes.

“It looks like you’re going out too.”

“I’m just very comfortable on my Snuggle Shark.” Ally batted her eyelashes at Davey who looked away rather flustered, watching the movie that had been playing. “I love those boys Davey.”

“Me too.” Davey gave a sigh as he ran his fingers through Ally’s hair.

“You know,” she started. “I can’t wait till we have our own little ones.”

“Yeah.” Davey nodded, but he soon stopped himself once he properly processed the words. He looked down at Ally who only gave him a sly smile, soon burying her face into his chest before watching the movie. Davey, on the other hand, couldn’t help but give a flushed smile as he also turned his attention to the movie.

“Skin.”

“Did you say something?” Davey looked down at Ally again.

“No.” she shook her head.

“Oh. Okay. I must be hearing things with all this…”

“This what?”

“Well, ya know.” Davey made a motion with his hand as Ally looked up at him with a smirk. “Kid talk.”

“Uh huh.~”

“I mean,” Davey shrugged with a shy smile. “I know we’ve briefly mentioned the topic before but...I also...yeah…”

Ally watched Davey fumble with his words a bit, chuckling to herself before she brought herself closer to his face to plant a kiss on his chin.

“We could always start planning to have a little shark of our own.” Ally breathed out before pecking his chin once more.

“Oh, I see.” Davey basically giggled at himself at the suggestion, but the moment was soon ruined by a single word.

“Skiiin.”

“Okay, you had to have heard that.”

“Heard what?” Ally made a weird face.

“Skiiin.”

“Um,” Ally now sat up as she furrowed her brows. “I told you something was wrong!”

“Skiiin.”

“No, no. I think I know where it’s coming from.” Davey reassured her. “Just stay here, I’ll be right back.”

“Skiiin.”

“Are you sure? I can come with you.” “Skiiin.”

“Trust me, it’s all okay. I’ll be right back.” Davey removed himself from the couch before making his way to their bedroom. He immediately turned on the light to look at the sleeping boys, neither one seeming like they had woken up.

Davey gave a “hmm” as he slowly approached the bed, closely examining the two boys.

Rowan was in a deep sleep, arms and legs clearly sprawled under the blankets as his bunny was set on his chest. Meanwhile, Basil slept on his side, hugging his Sing-A-Ma-Jig tightly.

“I know you’re awake.” Davey claimed to the latter of the two, not receiving any response. So, he reached out and took hold of Basil’s toy, immediately feeling a grip from Basil. “I know you’re awake Basil.”

After a few tugs, Basil finally opened his eyes and glanced over at Davey who gave a sigh and chuckle.

“Buddy, come on. You have to go to sleep.” Davey insisted as he ruffled Basil’s hair, then he reached down to poke Basil’s toy. “Was that you, or this little guy?”

Basil looked down at his toy, giving himself a moment before he squeezed its belly.

“Skiiin.”

“Oh my god.” Davey gave a bit of a laugh. “Okay, well...I just need you to go to sleep, okay?”

The toddler stared up at Davey, giving him a single blink of his eyes that looked almost judgemental.

“Look, if you go to sleep, I can ask Ally to fire up her cotton candy machine and I’ll send you home with some cotton candy in some cool shapes.” Davey attempted to bargain as his nephew actually gave the offer thought. “Come on Basil. You really have to sleep, I shouldn’t be bargaining with my 4-year old nephew.”

Basil once again only blinked up at Davey.

“If you won’t sleep for cotton candy, at least sleep for me.” Davey grinned, but Basil only gave him a weird look. “Alright, alright. If not for me, sleep for your mommy. I know she’d be happy if I told her you were being a good boy and went night-night.”

At this, Basil could do nothing but give a sigh before rolling onto his back, toy hugged tight against his chest before he shut his eyes.

“I’m watching you.” Davey joked as he slowly stepped out of the room, finishing the interaction by turning off the light as he officially made his way out and back to the living room where Ally eagerly awaited him.

“So?”

“It was just Basil.”

“Really?”

“Well, not Basil-Basil. He was playing with that toy of his.”

“Skinamarink?”

“Skina-what?”

“Skinamarink, that’s what the toy sings.” Ally explained as Davey as he took a seat beside her. “Skinamarink, a-dink, a-dink. Skinamarink, a-doo, I love you. I love you in the evening underneath the moon.”

“Not ringing a bell.”

“Davey! You’ve babysitted these kids before!” Ally laughed as Davey gave a shrug. “But I don’t understand how the toy would say ‘skin’ and only ‘skin’.”

“Maybe Basil broke it and instead of making such a big deal he decided he liked it that way.”

“Maybe.” Ally gave a bit of a shrug as she resumed snuggling up to Davey, his arms wrapped around her as he nuzzled his nose into her hair. “Are we still watching the movie?”

“Yeah, of course.” Davey nodded as he cuddled with Ally, beginning to feel his eyes grow heavy as they landed on the TV screen.

“Skiiin.”

“God dammit.”

“What?” Ally lifted her head, also having found herself falling asleep.

“Skiiin.”

“Oh dear.” Ally rubbed her eyes as she woke up a bit more. “Davey, just leave him be.”

“Skiiin.”

“I would, but he has to take a nap. Or else he’s not gonna sleep at his own house.” Davey shook his head as Ally carefully removed herself from him. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mmkay.” she gave a disappointed hum as Davey made his way to the bedroom once again, turning on the lights in an instan to see Basil with his toy propped up on his chest.

Basil ever so casually looked at Davey, maintaining eye contact for a few seconds before his attention returned to his toy. Soon enough, he continued pressing the toy’s stomach before that dreaded sound was heard once again.

“Skiiin.”

“So, it is war between us!” Davey claimed, partly as a joke but still a bit serious as he approached the apathetic Basil. The toddler didn’t even bother to look at him as he continued to squeeze his toy. “Basil, come on. We talked about this.”

Finally, Basil looked up at Davey who gave him a semi-stern look.

“Skiiin.”

“Basil.” Davey repeated. “Please, you have to go to sleep buddy. You don’t want your mom to be upset, do you?”

Basil blinked at Davey, then shook his head no.

“Then you have to go to sleep, okay?”

Davey stared down at Basil who only stared back, blinking at him every now and then without any response. It was clear that Basil was just not feeling it; he was only going to continue playing with the toy unless Davey took it away, which Davey was not about to do. Unfortunately for him, there weren’t very many other options to hand to Basil in exchange for the toy.

“Okay, let’s make a deal.” Davey thought. “If I let you watch Candyman with me and Ally, will you go to sleep?”

Almost immediately, Basil gave a nod.

“Yeah, I had a feeling you’d say yes.” Davey helped Basil sit up. “But that just leaves me with the question...what to do with Rowan? I don’t want to leave him alone, but I also don’t want him waking up with the movie…”

“How about, you take Basil with you to the living room, and I take a nap with Rowan?” Davey now heard Ally behind him. “I’m actually getting a bit sleepy.”

“Oh, well that solves that.” Davey grinned as he picked up Basil, his nephew of course not letting go of his toy.

Ally gave a hum before kissing Davey’s lips, and then kissing the top of Basil’s head.

“You two have fun.” she spoke as she climbed into bed with Rowan, hugging the toddler to herself as he unconsciously snuggled back. “Nighty night.~”

“Sleep well.” Davey bid his wife before turning off the lights, soon walking out with Basil in his arms. The two were now in the living room once again, Davey laying on the couch as he let Basil lay on his chest.

“Did you know that the second Candyman movie is named ‘Farewell to the Flesh’?” Davey told Basil who looked over at his toy, giving it a single squeeze. “Yeah, Farewell to the Skiiin.”

Davey chuckled to himself as he fixed Basil’s hair, then giving him a kiss on the forehead.

Basil sprawled out all of his limbs on Davey, all but one that held onto his toy. He set his head down on Davey, eyes beginning to shut as he spoke one last word.

“Skiiin.”

“Yeah, yeah. Skiiin..”

[alecmagnuslwb]

The Great Marriage License Mystery

Read on AO3

Magnus groans, back feeling like hell. He lifts himself up and immediately falls off the couch landing directly on his back onto a stack of red solo cups.

“Fuck,” he shouts out as he rolls to the side to lift himself up, a party mask on a stick digging into his side.

“Stop being so loud,” a female voice he knows well grumbles from above. Magnus finally lifts himself up into a sitting position to see Isabelle lying face down surrounded by a nest of multi colored feather boas on the couch opposite the one he’d just fallen from.

Magnus finds the inner strength to stand looking around the room. It’s his apartment, not that he remembers coming home at all, and it’s a wreck. Cups, half empty bottles of liquor and an array of party favors from the evening’s festivities cover every surface. His paintings on the walls are crooked, the strip of photobooth pictures that he and Alec had taken on their trip to Tokyo for their one-month anniversary are sitting sadly in a puddle of something. He walks over squinting his eyes against the sunlight streaming in and pics up the photo strip shaking them out best he can.

He sniffs them confirming the liquid to be vodka and not something worse. He pins them back up on the corkboard where they belong smiling at the happy looks on their faces despite the fact his head feels like there’s a tiny gnome with a hatchet running around inside of it.  

Isabelle shifts on the couch lying on her back now.

“Did we die?” she asks eyes still closed.

“Unfortunately not,” Magnus says picking up a pink cowboy hat from the chair nearest to him and plopping down into it heavily.

“What time is it?” she asks pulling a few of the feather boas around her like a blanket.

Magnus looks down at his watch about to answer when his bedroom door suddenly slams open. A flash of long red hair streaks across the apartment headed straight for the bathroom.

Clary shuts the door behind her and an unfortunate heaving sound follows. Izzy sits up quickly eager to get to her fiancée, a decision she clearly immediately regrets if the way she woozily lies back down is anything to go by.

The bathroom door swings open a moment later, Alec steps out looking disheveled as hell wearing a Hunter’s moon t-shirt he definitely hadn’t been wearing when the night before had started.

“I don’t recommend sleeping in a bathtub when you’re 6”4,” he says voice gravelly from misuse. He squints his eyes grabbing a pair of sunglasses laying on the table as he walks past it and slips them on. “You might want to check on your fiancée, she’s throwing up half her body in there.”

Alec sits down heavily on the couch beside his sister patting her on the shoulder. She nods, takes a deep breath and centers herself standing up slowly. This time she makes it picking her way through the trash littering the floor her 8-inch heels somehow still secured to her feet.

“Your weddings in like four hours, just a reminder!” Magnus shouts and wishes he hadn’t. Judging from the way Alec plugs his ears and Izzy flips him off no one else does either. Hangovers all around it seems, a sign of a good bachelorette party.

Magnus listens for a few moments to Isabelle softly reassuring Clary, heels clicking on the tile of the bathroom floor. He looks over at his boyfriend once again heaving himself to stand and flop down beside him on the bed of boas.

“Good morning baby,” Alec grumbles lifting his arm and wrapping it around Magnus’ shoulders. Magnus hums reaching up and entangling his fingers with Alec’s. He shifts enough to toss his legs over Alec’s and looks down noticing a piece of white paper sticking out from his pocket.

He raises his eyebrows leaning back enough to pull the paper from his pocket. He unfolds it and practically jolts up from the couch. In looping script that looks like Isabelle’s is his name and what appears to be one half of a marriage license.

“Ummm Magnus!” Isabelle yells rushing out of the bathroom and directly to them on the couch. Alec shifts seemingly having fallen back asleep. She shakes a piece of paper in his face almost identical to his half. “This was in MY pocket.”

Magnus takes it from her lining it up with his. A piece of the full sheet is still missing only the last name Lightwood on Isabelle’s section the first name missing. She falls beside him seeing the almost full document.

“There’s no way,” he says laughing nervously. There’s no way.

Isabelle is just as alert as he in now, eyes in a panic. Alec sits up taking off his sunglasses. He looks from the papers to Magnus’s eyes, his eyes just as wide as his sisters.

“I also have this,” she says holding up her left hand revealing a diamond band on her thumb. “It’s stuck.”

“That’s one of mine,” Magnus says looking down at one of his empty fingers. “Oh, shit that’s one of mine.”

Alec falls back into the couch, no longer pressed into Magnus’ side.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” Isabelle says dropping her head into her hands.

Clary comes out of the bathroom, eye makeup resembling a raccoon with a huge bottle of mouth wash in her hands. Chairman Meow appears circling around her socked feet trying to trip her up, she takes it in stride and steps over him easily.  

“Just in case,” she says when she notices Alec judging the bottle. “So, I’m guessing from those repetitive oh my gods it’s not us that got married last night.”

“No,” Isabelle moans dramatically throwing herself on the ground, arms tossed over her eyes. “I married my brother’s boyfriend probably as a dumb joke or something the night before my wedding. Jace will never let me live this down.”

“We don’t know that. It just says Lightwood, it could be us!” Magnus argues looking at his boyfriend uncertainly. Alec looks a little bit like a deer in the headlights so Magnus scrambles. He’s not really sure what’s the better option: accidentally marrying your boyfriend of two months in a drunken stupor or marrying your boyfriend’s sister as a joke in a drunken stupor. At least he hopes it was a dumb joke if it’s the latter, the former well he’s not sure if he and Alec are ready to get into that no matter how quickly their relationship has progressed. “Or you know it’s fake, fake is an option.”

Clary steps over inspecting the paper.

“Paper’s too high quality for a fake,” she shrugs sitting down on the coffee table. Magnus gives her a pointed look, making it clear she’s not helping this situation.

The four of them sit there silently for a while. Alec is the first to speak up.

“Okay, what does everyone remember from last night? Let’s piece this together,” he says reasonably opening the floor to whoever wants to start.

It takes about twenty minutes but they get a vague timeline from memory and other evidence pulled from their pockets. They scour the apartment as they talk making hangover remedies while desperately searching for the missing piece of the license.

So far they’ve determined things started here, pre-gaming with cocktails and dinner then it was the Hunter’s Moon where Magnus absolutely demolished Alec in a series of pool games. That’s when Alec lost his shirt as well, a beer spilled on him by Jace who’d already had far too much to drink. Magnus had forgotten the detail, but Alec recalls it with annoyed clarity.

After the Hunter’s Moon, Jace had been sent home in a cab, Maia, Bat and the rest of their friends had come along with them to Pandemonium and that was where things got blurry. By 11:30 their friends had all called it a night, but the four of them had hit the dancefloor. Dancing then turned into competition when Izzy had challenged Magnus and Alec to a couple’s tequila shot off. Magnus assumes they won considering how Clary handles her liquor.

Then it all goes well and truly blank for them all. Clary’s phone is missing entirely, Alec’s is dead and seemingly has been since at least midnight. Izzy’s phone is just a series of back and forth drunken texts with Jace that are increasingly sarcastic and misspelled.

Magnus is the only one with a possible lead. There’s evidence of a Lyft being called that took them to the venue where Izzy and Clary are getting married in mere hours and a 15-minute call with Raphael somewhere around one in the morning.

Magnus dials his number immediately hoping for answers.

“You asked me to go through the whole ceremony,” Raphael says after five minutes of making fun of them all. Magnus’ childhood best friend never did finish the process of becoming a full-blown preacher, not finding it for him in the end, but he’s ordained for weddings and had happily offered to do the ceremony when Clary and Izzy still hadn’t found someone two weeks before.

“Why?” the four ask in frustrated unison.

“Dios, I don’t know. You were all trashed but you insisted, so to get you to leave me alone because some of us who are involved in this wedding wanted to get a good night’s rest, I went through the whole thing, start to finish,” he explains.

“Did vows get exchanged or anything?” Alec asks.

“Not really, but you did all say ‘I do’ at some point I couldn’t tell who though, I’m pretty sure you were all outside,” Raphael answers. “Which in theory I guess would mean someone got married, but not that it matters I mean ordained or not without a license it’s not legally binding.”

They all sigh.

“That’s the problem,” Magnus grumbles. They end the call after that saying goodbyes and see you soons.

“Alright,” Alec says sounding the level headed big brother and leader he always is. “Here’s the plan’ everyone needs to shower first. We’re short on time so that means couples, no funny business though. Raphael said we were outside, so that probably means we couldn’t get into the venue when we decided to go. Magnus and I can ask around while the two of you get ready since we have to be there anyways.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement.

“And what do we do if it was us that got married?” Magnus asks gesturing between him and Izzy.

They’re all silent. Clary is the first to pipe up, taking this whole situation surprisingly well. Maybe throwing up half of one’s body weight brings clarity.

“I mean only the four of us saw it, it hasn’t been officially filed, just signed and if we give Raphael permission to mock us about it for the rest of our lives he won’t say anything,” she reasons.

She grabs Izzy’s hand pulling her to the shower leaving no room for argument.

Magnus blows out a long breath leaning against the kitchen counter where they’d all gathered. Alec joins him, crossing his arms.

“Are you mad I may have accidentally married your sister?” Magnus says quietly.

Alec snorts.

“No, we were all beyond drunk last night and knowing you and Izzy it was some competitive dare that went a step too far.”

Magnus chuckles, that does sound like them.

“And what if,” he pauses a little worried. “What if it was us that accidentally got married?”

Alec turns reaching up to pull a piece of confetti from Magnus’ hair. His hand slides down brushing Magnus’ cheek.

“Then we got married,” he shrugs.

Isabelle’s phone rings breaking the moment, on today of all days he’s fairly certain she’d appreciate them picking it up. It’s the caterer and the call takes long enough that he and Alec have barely five minutes for a shared shower before calling a cab to get to the venue. They don’t get to talk about Alec’s casual shrug about them being married like it wouldn’t be a big deal.

Once they’re at the venue people start filing in Maryse and Maia take charge of Isabelle while Clary is drifted away by Simon and Jace. They both lock eyes with Magnus and Alec trusting them to get answers or burn the pieces of marriage license before the days over.

Alec is the first to be fully ready so he heads around to ask the staff some questions. He eventually is led to the night security guard who simply shrugs saying he’d fallen asleep on the job. The only evidence that they were even there is in the form of Magnus’ Lyft history and a feather boa exactly like the ones in Magnus’ apartment tangled in a bush outside. Alec sends him a picture of it attached with the message, ‘I have a feeling we’re going to be finding these around New York for the rest of the year.’

Everything goes by in a rush after that. Magnus never gets the chance to bring up anything to Alec as they take their places as groomsmen.

The wedding is beautiful, Raphael does an excellent job so much so that Clary’s stepdad bursts into tears only two lines in. Clary and Izzy exchange vows that make everyone else cry and Izzy dips Clary as they kiss to everyone’s delight. They look the happiest they’ve ever been, clearly no longer thinking about the possible mistake marriage that was.

Magnus however can’t think of anything else. The sun has fallen and the cake has been cut by the time he gets a moment alone with Alec. He steps outside for some fresh air just beside the bushes where the feather boa still flaps in the wind and Alec slips out behind him. Two long arms wrap around his waist and Magnus leans back into a strong chest.

They stand there quietly, the muffled sound of music behind them.

“You know,” Magnus says eventually. “You were pretty casual about the concept of us being accidentally married this morning.”

Alec once again the picture of nonchalance just shrugs.

“I mean at first it was a lot, but once the worst of the hangover subsided I realized if it was us well, that’s not the worst thing. I love you; I have intentions to be with you for as long as you’ll have me so that works.”

Magnus shifts so that Alec is standing in front of him eyes a little glassy. Alec takes the tears to be a bad thing.

“I get it though if it’s way too soon to be thinking or saying anything like that, or,” Alec freezes as Magnus puts a finger in front of his lips.

“I feel the same way,” he smiles. “I mean it’s not ideal and like Clary said it’s not official till it’s filed, but I do feel the same way. I have no doubt in my mind we’re heading that way one day.”

Alec smiles kissing the tip of Magnus’ finger where it still rests against his lips. He pulls Magnus into a hug. Magnus rests his chin on Alec’s shoulder eyes still open and that’s when he spots it. The feather boa shifts in the wind and a small white piece of paper is revealed skewered on the prickly end of the bush.

He pulls back from Alec leaping down the two small steps to pick the piece of paper from the bush.

“Well I’ll be damned,” he says snatching up the sliver of paper and flipping it over. The missing piece of the license. Alec steps over, joining him.

“Is that?” he starts looking over Magnus’ shoulder.

Magnus nods holding it up for Alec to read. Alec smiles, pulling the Lightwood piece he’d been holding onto from his pocket as Magnus does the same with his part.

Alexander the missing piece reads in Isabelle’s looping script.

“Guess your stuck with me now,” Magnus says with a smirk.

Alec rolls his eyes fondly.

“Technically it hasn’t been filed, so not officially,” he jokes, pulling Magnus in by the waist. “Plus it’s in three pieces I don’t think the courthouse is going to accept it.”

“Pfft, just needs a little tape,” Magnus says gathering the three pieces of paper and folding them carefully before placing them in the inner pocket of his wine-red jacket a compliment to Alec’s black one and Isabelle’s deep red dress. “Plus, Clary’s stepdad is the Mayor, we can totally get some strings pulled.”

Alec laughs shifting to drape his arms over Magnus’ shoulders.

“You mean it?” he asks.

Magnus nods. “We have to have a party bigger than this one at some point though,” he says gesturing back to the reception hall. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Of course,” Alec says seriously.  “So we’re gonna be Mr. and Mr. Lightwood then?”

Magnus hums tapping a finger to his chin in thought.

“I was thinking Mr. and Mr. Bane actually.”

“I like the sound of that,” Alec says before pulling Magnus into a kiss.

They never do piece together the night exactly. Eventually Izzy gets the ring off her thumb and it fits Alec’s ring finger perfectly they discover, Magnus in turn realizes he has an exact double of it that he starts wearing himself. Why Isabelle filled out the license or if they kissed after they said I do or even actually said it is never truly answered.

Their actual marriage will be a mystery for the rest of their lives, but Magnus does get his party an acceptable six months after Clary and Izzy’s.

[hbosscreations]

Us Ladies Have to Stick Together

It’s a little later than I’d hoped for, but here is my contribution to @redvsbluesecretsanta for @artesoterica! You asked for Southalina, with a general positive mood! This fic is an AU taking place on Season 15′s Chorus moon in a universe where the Reds and Blues actually get to rest and build a life for themselves. I hope you like it.

                                   Us Ladies Have to Stick Together

 When South heard Carolina’s coded message, left in such a way that any of her former people would find it if they were looking, she…didn’t really know what to expect. She wasn’t certain it was meant for her with the way South left things, what with her and Wash trying to kill one another, but it was so damn earnest that South couldn’t ignore it.

��Wash and I are alive, we’ve shut down the Project and made a safe space for all of us to live. If you see this, come find us. Come home.’

She wasn’t keen at first on going to find anyone, let alone other members of Project Freelancer, but Carolina was good on her word Chorus’s moon wasn’t what she thought it would be. It sounded like isolation, like hiding in a long-abandoned base or in a tiny apartment sleeping in shifts, but Carolina and her people had turned it to something else entirely. The Reds and Blues regularly communicated with the planet below, a shuttle came up more than once to drop off and pick-up soldiers for no reason South could figure out aside from play dates with weapons.

Just like this one.

A shuttle had arrived earlier that day carrying a new face along with a few others that South recognized from the deliveries every other week. The Sim Troopers had quite the fan club, and it was very normal for the shuttle to arrive and stay overnight so the troops could hang out. This time, the newcomer seemed to get all of the attention. It was such a relief to not feel the pointed stares from both the Reds and Blues and the Chorus soldiers.

South blew up her bangs and retied the bandana around her head to keep her hair out of the way while she worked on Sarge’s warthog, the perfect vantage point to observe without staring and be present without having to actually interact with anyone. The Sim Troopers weren’t as bad as South expected them to be most days, Washington’s influence excluded, but that didn’t mean she was comfortable with them yet.

The strange woman who arrived in the shuttle, wearing bright yellow armor and a swagger that told everyone who saw her that she was hot shit and she knew it, immediately screamed for Grif to get his lazy butt outside and come help move her shit inside the base.

It didn’t take long for her to start chatting and then chasing the Sim Troopers around. She hooted and hollered and pelted the soldiers with paintballs from a gun that should not have been shooting paintballs in the first place, all the while crowing ‘GO BLUE!’.

Despite the fact she didn’t seem to care if she was hitting a Red or a Blue.

Judging by the yelling and giggles, they didn’t seem to mind it either.

South’s helmet was dropped next to her on the engine while she watched, contemplating if she had earned enough good will to join in considering practically everyone on the moon was playing already, and Carolina put a hand on South’s shoulder to draw her attention.

New Carolina was the day to Old Carolina’s night. More emotionally mature, more secure in herself, and more confident. The dark shadows had finally passed, but she was still the same woman South had served under.

“You should probably put that on. It would be horrible if Kai accidentally shot you in the eye; the only medical treatment you’re likely to get is CPR and orange juice.”

The hand shifted from her shoulder and brushed the back of her neck. South barely held in her shiver.

New Carolina was more tactile, taking the time to make contact outside of training. She always had time for a smile, something kind to say even if the comment was odd, and casual touching that felt out of place coming from her former leader.

South had to admit that it was nice to be appreciated, though.

“Which army is Kai from, Fed or New Republic? I don’t recognize her or the paint job.”

“She’s the youngest of our Sims, Grif’s little sister, not from Chorus.”

The Reds looked to have begun their retaliation, pulling out buckets of paint, paint balloons, and paint ball guns of their own. They ran around screaming with her instead of running from her, and South laughed a little.

“They’re like a bunch of goofy teenagers, aren’t they? I don’t know how you’ve managed to keep them all alive so long.”

She pulled her helmet on, ignoring the fact that most of her armor was on the ground. She could handle paintball welts and didn’t feel like trading the extra protection of the armor for the contact she got when Carolina watched her work. Standing just a little too close, with her hand on South’s lower back, it felt like things were actually right.

“She’s going to be staying.”

The warthog got regular work, practically daily maintenance and fine tuning, but for some reason it felt like everything South did to it was undone at the end of the day.

“Hmm.”

“She talks a lot, but you can’t be mean unless you want the Reds and Blues both mad at you. Grif is really protective of her; they all are.”

Knowing Sarge, it probably was. He probably came in as soon as she walked away and fiddled with it, bickering with Lopez as he used a wrench on the wrong pieces and broke screwdrivers inside.

“South? Are you listening to me?”

“Sure, Yellow is a wild child and I shouldn’t pick on her. The Sims don’t talk to me much, why would I bother with Grif’s little sister?”

Was Lopez doing this? Normally he fixed things, but maybe he resented her coming in and doing his job for him. It did prevent him from avoiding the rest of Red Team.

“South, will you stop for a second? Look at me?”

Shit. South must have missed a tone thing again, it happened sometimes. Between the military and being on her own for so long, South didn’t always know how to read casual conversation anymore. She preferred direct conversation any day.

“I’m worried about you.”

That flash of guilt that flared up any time Carolina wanted to take care of her was back.

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’m coping.”

“You’re stagnating. Soon you’re going to start tearing your hair out and alienating the guys because you’re bored and looking for stimulation. Trust me, antagonizing the Reds and Blues will only lead to problems and you do not want that. I care about you and I would hate for you to end up with mustard in your blankets or a bucket of snakes above your door. Let me introduce you to Kaikaina Grif.”

“I don’t understand what meeting her has got to do with antagonizing anybody or the strangely bizarre and specific pranks.”

“You’re bored, and Kai is definitely not boring. I think spending some time with her will be good for you.”

Carolina didn’t accept Wash and South tiptoeing around one another or South trying to sneak out in the middle of the night because of her insomnia, and she apparently wasn’t going to rest until South had made some friends, even if that meant flying friends in for her.

The hand on her neck started to massage gently, feeling the tension that had settled there. South let out a groan.

“You’re what? Assigning her to me?”

“Oh no, Kai’s been a Blue longer than you’ve been here, she outranks you. I’m assigning you to her.”

“What?”

Carolina called out to Kai and waved her in before she firmly turned South to face the Sim Trooper charging at them. The moment the woman in yellow skidded to a stop in front of them, she took a beat to look South up and down before she turned and did the same to Carolina.

“Carolina, lookin’ fine-ah! Still bangin’ as always! How are the jam sessions with the band?”

“They have yet to comment on my being tone deaf and I’m not spoiling the game, so it’s been fun. Kai, this is South, she’s an old friend of mine in need of someone to teach her how to have a good time. Can you do that?”

“Ch, yeah! I am great at fun!”

“Fantastic. Kai, from now on, South follows your orders the way she used to follow mine. She won’t like it, she’ll bitch, but she’s a great soldier and a good friend to have at your back.”

“If you want a knife put in it.”

Washington came around the warthog, a large splash of red down his left side and a steady spattering of blue on the right. He must have gotten caught in the middle of the fight.

“Hey, Kai. What’s up?”

“Hey, Cop. You still being a cop? You have to tell me, you know!”

“That’s still not a law.”

That easy amused tone shook South. He sounded so much older; more world weary. It fit him.

“Washington,” Carolina bit out, “If you’re not going to play nice, go away.”

He saluted, patted Kai on the shoulder, and moved back into the fray. The soldiers cheered as he snagged a balloon and smashed it into the side of Tucker’s head.

“Anyway, Kai, South is my gift to you. Think of her like you’ve just been given a very angry puppy and you’ll be great.”

“Carolina, you cannot be serious.”

“I am very serious; you need someone to help you transition to our way of life and Kai is the best person to do that. Kai, her job is to do what you tell her, your job is to keep her from going off the deep end. Don’t order anything I wouldn’t approve of, but other than that, go nuts.”

South scowled at the thought of a woman at least ten years younger than her, a stranger, issuing orders. She didn’t exactly have a choice but to go on with it, where else was she going to go?

“This is ridiculous.”

And it’s not like she wanted to leave anyway. Not again. Not after everything she’d gone through to get there.

Not after finally getting her chance to be with Carolina again.

“I’m not your commanding officer anymore. You could always say no, but if that’s the case I’m giving you to the Reds, and their chaos is unbridled. Think of it this way, Donut will do your nails, but Kai excels at doing hair and your purple has been missing for too long.”

South shrugged and Kai immediately dragged her toward the base.

“You’re the one with purple tips, right? I’ve seen the pics. We’re doing your hair right now. I know that you haven’t had a dye job since you got here, there’s no one here that does hair even half as good as me!”

She jabbered endlessly while she set up a chair at the big sink on the base. Her steady stream of increasingly weird stories about herself and her sex life made South laugh, and the commentary about the guys on base made South sure she never wanted to get on this girl’s bad side.

Once they were gone, Carolina wheeled a large box into the room.

“Your portable salon, madame. Don’t scare her off, ok? It took forever to bring her home.”

“Pshaw! She likes me already! Don’t you, baby?”

Both women looked at South and she shrugged.

“You’re fine. Let’s get this over with so I can get back to work.”

“I’ll take that as a win for now! You’ll warm up.”

With that, Kai pushed South into the chair and threw a cape around her shoulders. Kai’s hands were sturdy and soothing as they carded through South’s hair and scratched at her scalp, talking about what she thought would look best for a minute before she realized South wasn’t listening in the slightest and switched back to talking about herself again. How she’d wanted to go to beauty school when she was younger, and that she used to do everyone’s hair at the circus. South only half listened.

God, her fingers were like magic.

South melted into the chair and decided to let the woman have her way with her hair. Worst case scenario, South would shave her head and let it grow back. And it was worth it to have her hair ruined if Kai would just keep working on her hair.

“She’s funny, right?”

South made a questioning noise.

“Carolina. She shows her love weird. She’s been trying for weeks now to get me out here, telling me Grif misses me, that the team is trying to set up a training center here. Didn’t fly, cause that sounds awful, so she talked to the freaking president of Chorus and got me a training gig putting together events and festivals on the planet’s surface. Someone decided they needed events for good public relations and off world traffic, and I’m pretty good at it!”

Carolina laughed a little from where she was pointedly not hovering.

“She got you a job, huh?”

“She got me a good paying job where my brother can keep an eye on me, so he’s happy. From there, it’s like a waterfall, making him happy makes Simmons happy, which makes Donut and Sarge happy, which makes Caboose happy, which makes Tucker happy, which makes Wash happy, which makes Carolina happy. Everyone here is sooooo codependent. You, I don’t know about, but that’s ok. We’re gonna party and I’ll learn all your secrets.”

God, the thought of going to the planet’s surface to ‘party’ made South’s whole body tense up. Way too much exposure, to high a risk of being seen.

“I don’t really party these days.”

“Yeah, I figured. I’ll fix that. Once I get you sorted, Carolina can finally stop worrying about her little circle and relax. Anything you want in particular? Because if you don’t, I’m gonna trim you up and give you crazy purple hair, it’s gonna take some time, but it’ll look fabulous.”

“I’m in your hands, gorgeous.”

“You’re a flirt! I like that.”

South did her best to keep up the chatting, thankful that Kai held the majority of the conversation herself, and when she might have lulled, Carolina stepped in and stoked the conversation back up.

She did the whole nine yards; washed South’s hair, massaged her scalp, trimmed her up to something more akin to her preferred style, bleached her hair for coloring and mixed colors. South honestly didn’t give a shit about what Kai did, so she gleefully went to town.

Once she started putting color on, Carolina frowned.

“You’re doing her whole head?”

“I have creative license here, so yeah, I’m doing her whole head! It’s gonna be fucking badass, just you wait!”

Carolina pulled up a chair and sat across from South with a nervous smile and stretched her leg out to brush ankles with South. South smiled back and tapped Carolina with the side of her boot. She didn’t pull away, she didn’t want or need to.

Kai wasn’t wrong, Carolina did show her love in weird ways. She never said it, but she showed it in a thousand different ways. South watched Carolina work with the Reds and Blues every day, watched her interact with the people from Chorus who flew up to the moon to ‘train’, how she took the time to touch and ground the people around her despite her own discomfort with the process.

How she understood that South needed help and care but was too angry and proud to ever ask for it.

“I trust you, Kai, just don’t make her look like a clown.”

“I would never! This gorgeous face can pull all kinds of looks, and I intend to make her look fucking sexy as fuck! Chill, Carolina, I’m not going to mess your other girlfriend’s look up.”

South tried to look up at Kai, confused, but Kai grabbed South’s head and held it in place.

“Don’t move, you’ll ruin my hard work.”

Carolina laughed a little and rubbed her ankle against South’s and asked Kai about her most recent exploits. South just closed her eyes and listened to the women talk.

The color was washed out, her hair blow dried and style, and with a cheeky grin, Kai shoved a mirror into South’s face.

“Well?”

It looked…good.

Her head was covered multiple tones of purples, blues, and reds, in a way that looked like it shouldn’t have worked, but it really did. Dark and bold, her hair felt soft and fell nicely. Honestly, it was too good for the life South lived. Between helmet time and working on trucks, she was sure she wouldn’t do it justice in the long run.

But Carolina looked really happy, and judging by Kai’s bright smile, she was too.

“You like it, right?”

“Don’t push her.”

South smirked.

“She can push me if she wants, you’re the one who told her to boss me around. I like it.”

“Great!” Kai crowed. “We’re gonna get our nails done tonight, no fighting, I brought Donut a new gel kit and he’s dying to use it!”

Carolina stood up and pressed a kiss to Kai’s cheek and praised her for a job well done, before she kiss to South’s cheek as well.

“I’m glad you like it. Kai’s great, you to are going to get along like a house on fire.”

“Uh, I’m not lighting anything on fire.”

South hadn’t expected anything good when she came here, came home, but everything was genuinely better than she expected. Carolina took her hand and kissed the knuckles before idly telling Kai that she hoped they’d also brought decent alcohol because Donut’s wine and cheese hour was dreadful without actual wine to drink.

She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t known how badly she wanted it, but she was so glad she’d come.

[stepgazz]

Candied Fruit- Lee Donghyuck Scenario

this is my first time ever posting something like this. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!! 

3.5 k words

genre: fluff, some angst

feel free to tell me your thoughts!

----

You sat on the couch with a grim expression on your face, as you listened to a distant, mumbled conversation between your brother and Donghyuck.

He had been scolding you the entire day. Whether it was about how much space you took up on the couch, how you had eaten his favorite snacks or how you had left all the doors around the dorm open, Hyuck made sure to complain about everything.

You were acquainted with his gimmicks and mischief. As Jaemin’s little sister, you had access to the dorms whenever you pleased (or more, as Jaemin would bring you around just because he was “missing you”), so you knew the dreamies well. Haechan, however, had always been torn about your presence. He was playful, witty, even flirty sometimes, while other days were like this: when his humor turned bitter and his patience ran thin. The line between these two faces of his was fragile when it came to you, and he would snap from one to the other within seconds.

Your eyes focused back onto the TV in front of you as a pair of feet tiptoed their way closer. Jaemin’s familiar hand fell onto your shoulder, reassuringly rubbing it as you turned around to meet his face.

“He’s sick, kid. He’s had two promotions in one month, it’s not your fault.” His face shone with a warm smile as he pet your hair, melting away the stiffness in your neck. “He’s said he’d go to sleep now. I’ll probably be back by the time he gets up.”

You nodded with a thin smile, proceeding to turn to the random movie you had accidentally stumbled upon. It was pretty good actually, so you kept watching as Jaemin eventually left the dorms to go practice. The silent hallways, dreamy afternoon lighting and pleasant atmosphere of the film helped calm you down and forget about the sick boy you had been left alone with.

You scoffed at yourself. His image kept popping up in your head as he shouted at you that morning: his caramel-colored hair sticking up in places after he furiously ran his hands through it, the white of his eyes tinted red with fatigue and dizziness, his figure hunched under the thickness of his own head. His voice cracked with anger, the veins on his neck popping out and as you stared at him, the smallest bit of fear sparked in your chest, wrapped in layers of regret and worry.

Those gut-twisting feelings seeped back into your head. Hyuck was clearly tired and all you had done was push some more buttons, enough to set him off. You pushed your palms against your eyes, struggling to find a way to apologize. “It would be easy” you thought, “if he would actually take apologies seriously.”

Then it hit you.

“He shouted because of those damn snacks.”

So, you set off to the kitchen, determined to make something nice for the boy in hopes for a bit of redemption.

 ----

The fruit salad looked delicious and you gave yourself credit for that. Even if he wouldn’t accept your apology, he’d at least have something to eat while he was angry with you. You went over what you were going to say to him, trying to avoid giving him anything he could use against you, but as you walked out of the kitchen, you saw him.

 You stood in the doorframe and watched a disheveled Donghyuck plop onto the couch with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, groaning in a sleepy voice. He hadn’t even noticed you.

Haechan laid down with his back towards the TV, exhaling heavily as he made himself comfortable. You had forgotten everything you were about to say and sat there with a bowl of fruit in your hands and an empty mind.

As much as he teased you, he wasn’t all that bad. His flirting was frequent, sometimes bold and cocky, which made him incredibly hot, while other times he would just shyly nudge your shoulder or push strands of hair off your face with his long, gentle fingers. Those times, he was an absolute sweetheart.

You went and sat by his feet, holding the bowl in your lap. As you looked at his mess of a hair showing from under the blanket and at his closed eyes with relaxed, for once not furrowed eyebrows, your heart leapt for a second. His breathing had gone shallow and regular, so you figured he had fallen asleep already.

“Poor sunshine.” The thought echoed in your head distantly, as if someone else had said it. It was the Y/N that was deeply fond of Haechan.

You were aware of your tiny crush on him, but you managed to shrink it into a faint voice over some time, because it was pretty clear he wanted none of that. Still, every time he showed those signs, every time he flirted and teased, every time he was next to you like this, being downright gorgeous effortlessly, that Y/N who loved him would grow stronger.

You grabbed a piece of apple out of the bowl and threw it into your mouth, admiring Hyuck silently as you chewed on the sweet fruit. The movie you had been watching sounded so far away; there was only your breathing, and his, reverberating inside your skull. You kept eating bits of fruit mindlessly, as if they were popcorn and Haechan was your most awaited screening of the year.

“I want a piece.”

The daze you were in evaporated instantly as Donghyuck’s strained voice came out, muffled by the blanket.

“It’s for you, actually.” You instantly answered, taken aback.

You could hear him chuckle lowly before shifting into a different position, propping himself up on one of his elbows. His face was flushed and his lips chewed, adding to the somehow cute image he had on. His eyes were still closed as he stretched his other hand out for some fruit.

You fumbled for a strawberry, picking it up and bringing it close to his hand so he could take it. Instead, Hyuck grabbed your wrist, bringing the fruit locked between your fingers closer to his mouth, then closing his lips around it. His breath was warm against your skin as his mouth captured your fingertips. He slowly pushed his teeth into the strawberry, pulling it from your grasp and then letting your hand go.

A chill rolled down your spine. It felt like you had lost sense in that hand as it tingled intensely from his touch. You exhaled shakily, inaudibly, so he wouldn’t hear the effect he had just had on you.

You couldn’t lie: it had felt amazing.

Donghyuck threw himself back down as he chewed slowly on the fruit, a sly smile stretching across his tinted cheeks.

“You taste good.” He spoke as he swallowed, throwing these words around as if they meant nothing.

The hairs on the back of your head stood up, your brain fuming while you desperately searched for a good answer. Nothing came to mind, but you could feel your ears starting to burn.

As you looked over to him, the smirk he had on confirmed what you were thinking: it’s nothing but one of his tricks, toying with your flustered self. A stinging desire to beat him at his own game bled into the soft admiration you had for him moments earlier, the rational idea of apologizing becoming a literal apple of discord.

Thankfully, you get ideas for sweet revenge faster than for witty comebacks.

The couch you were on was, luckily, a pull-out couch. You got up and unfolded the sofa, turning it into a comfortable, wide bed, enough for the two of you to fit. Haechan groaned once again as the movement swayed him from side to side.

You laid down beside him, back to back with the toffee haired boy, then kept watching the now unimportant film that had been silently rolling in the background. Turning the volume up a bit, you sighed and gasped at almost every scene, trying to get Hyuck’s attention. If your theory was correct, he’d be a big fan of teasing, but a whiner when teased.

You could feel him shift behind you. When you thought he had finally found a comfortable spot, you felt his stomach against your back and his arm snaking around your waist. His forehead rested against the back of your head as his hand touched around you for the TV remote. Donghyuck traced the line of your forearm down to your palm, where he snatched the controller from you and blindly turned down the sound completely.

Your plan had been sabotaged by your own unsteady heart and labored breathing, your mind growing fuzzy under the heat of his body.

“I was watching that” you spoke with the most neutral voice you could manage. Turning your head to face him, you met his eyes, which were intimidatingly close to yours. His face seemed to be burning even worse than before: the redness stretched up his temples and over the bridge of his nose, bringing out the earthy brown of his eyes and the tempting pink of his lips.  

Without hesitating, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then regained his composure seamlessly, leaving you befuddled. For a second, you thought you might be burning worse than him. You rolled onto your stomach and propped yourself up on your elbows, glaring at him wide-eyed.

“What was that for?!” you spat in shock. Still, a hint of excitement came through your words.

Hyuck laid with his eyes closed, smiling softly at the butterflies in his tummy.

“I have no idea.” he said, chuckling. His arm was resting on the small of your back.

“He’s playing again, you idiot.” The thought buzzed around your head, making you feel ill with emotions. His face was lit with afternoon shimmers as you stared, torn, at it. You scoffed at yourself.

Suddenly, his expression melted into a motionless, almost pained one.

“You shouldn’t have made that salad. I’m sorry for shouting at you.”

Did Lee Donghyuck just apologize to you? The Lee Donghyuck who you had never heard genuinely regret doing something?

“It’s fine.”

You could feel the muscles in his forearm tense up under his skin, enclosing you in a tighter, more sincere lock. He opened his eyes and you could’ve sworn they lingered on your lips for a second before intersecting your gaze. His fingers slid up your side and over your shoulder, reaching your cheek and holding it carefully, as if you might fly away on a gust of wind.

“I mean it, Y/N.”  

You desperately tried to find any slip of sarcasm in his tone, convinced he would burst into laughter at any given second; he didn’t. His gaze held yours restlessly as his hand moved down to trace your neck before resting on the back of your head.

“This can’t be happening.” The alarm in your brain went off, shutting down every single rational thought you could fathom. It was only him you could think of and the electricity running through your veins beneath his touch.

Your body reacted before you realized: your eyes shutting half way and your lips parting, lacking any patience. In less than a second, Donghyuck had his tongue pressed flat against the base of your neck, then slowly drew it upwards towards your jawline with one long, sloppy trace.

His mouth barely left your skin, moving on to press shallow kisses to the lines of your face as you mindlessly dug your nails into his shoulder. He reached your chin and unstuck his mouth off of you for a moment, searching for your eyes with an illegible look. The air felt colder where his saliva was drying.

“I’m sorry for this too.” His words felt deeply sincere.

You could barely process your own actions. You slid your arm around his neck before touching your forehead to his, maintaining the deep eye contact. You mumbled a breathy “don’t be” before pressing a hesitant, shy kiss to his burning lips. His mouth slowly curled into a smile, making you wonder if he was about to start screaming with laughter.

“Idiot, this could be contagious.” He giggled innocently against your mouth then sighed deeply as you tugged at his hair, pulling your face away from his.

“All you know is teasing, isn’t it?” you went back to your initial position, tearing yourself away from his alluring frame. You smiled at him with a cockiness he knew all too well, because you had learnt it from him.

“It’s the only way things work around the dorms.” He plopped back down with hooded eyes, mirroring your attitude. His seriousness still weighed in through his last comment, mentioning how he sometimes would take it too far. The guilt in his tone was more obvious than he wanted it to be. His head felt thicker as he looked at you, the flashing of all those times he had been rude combining with the dizziness of over-working.  

"So, I'm part of the club?" You asked ironically, but somehow with genuine curiosity. Had it really all been in your head?

"Oh, come on… you've always been!" He playfully nagged, turning to look at you with a bright expression.

You couldn't tell if the blush in his cheeks was your masterful creation or if he actually had a bit of a fever, so you gently felt his forehead and neck. His temperature was higher than normal, but it didn't seem that serious. Still, in Haechan's eyes, your gesture was much bigger than slight worry. He exhaled shakily at the contact between the two of you, enjoying every drop of skinship he was getting from you.

He had always been clingy, cuddly, touchy, you name it. It was no surprise getting a kiss on the cheek or a childishly tight hug from him, no matter who you were. But for him, touching you was always more thought out. He was mindful with his sweet words and physical attention. Your boundaries were really important for him, so he took your reactions to heart often, cherishing the flustered ones and noting the annoyed ones.

And of course, he teased you. Of course, he scolded you. Of course, he always regretted it, but never said so because he'd never give such feelings away. This affinity he had for you was his little secret and he couldn't blow his own cover. But now, as your fingers left invisible prints onto his heated skin, he finally felt like he had won. Taking in the moment, the feeling of your lips against his blitzed across his mind, making him whimper for more.

His reaction brought you great satisfaction as you hunched over him, bringing one of your knees over his body to cradle him under you. Haechan’s hands almost instinctively went to your waist, holding you as if you were a porcelain doll. His breathing became heavier with expectation while his eyes travelled all over your face hungrily, his palms pressing down on your sides. You swallowed the knot in your throat, keeping yourself together under the temptation of pining him down for once.

You ran your hands down his chest, holding him down on the couch while you kissed the moles on his face and neck. Your theory had been true indeed, soft sounds escaping his lips every now and then: he was a whiner. A big one, for that matter, as he wiggled his fingers under your shirt to dig into your sensitive skin. You intentionally avoided his mouth, enjoying the sound of his shallow breaths as you cupped his hot face.

With all the strength he could manage, Hyuck sat up, having you sit in his lap. He preferred that better, having so much more access to you and regaining some control over your actions (even though he didn’t mind you dominating him).

With one hand on your back and one holding your face, he brought you into a deep kiss, mumbling a breathy “finally” onto your lips then biting down on them. You could feel violet bruises bloom on your mouth, roughly leaving marks wherever he could before running his tongue over them. You eventually opened your mouth into a lustful make out session, Donghyuck moving his palms down to your hips and digging into them demandingly. Your chest was flushed against his and you swore your hearts were beating in sync.

Haechan ripped his mouth from yours, stopping to look into your eyes with immense adoration. His arms wrapped around your waist one more time, bringing you even closer to his body into a tight embrace, so new compared to every other hug he’d ever given you. His forehead was on your shoulder as he whispered softly:

“Geez, why did I wait so long?”

His chuckle came out airy, with a sense of relief. His question made you ponder as well, realizing you had been craving him for so long. But as you ran your hands up and down his messy hair, you slowly found the answer: he’s an idol. He’s the apple of everyone’s eye. You’re Jaemin’s little sister and not even close to famous. The difference between you two was undeniable and it made your heart drop every time it came back to you. You inhaled his intoxicating scent, filling your lungs with the aroma as if you’d never see him again. Your grip grew tighter onto him and he noticed without fail.

He looked at you, searching for your gaze once again. This eye contact he kept initiating was making your stomach do flip after flip.

“What’s wrong?” his unique voice sounded so concerned and sweet when he spoke to you, and you had to hold back from kissing him again.

“I don’t want you to change for me.”

“What—why change?” he raised his eyebrows. You could almost sense a trace of fear.

“You’re… an idol. When people find out about this, you’ll be—” you caught your breath, “you’ll be hurt.”

He held your stare, tensing up.

“You know…you don’t have to do this.” Hyuck said in a low voice.

You wrapped your hands tighter around his neck, assuring him that you wanted to, badly. You wanted to be there for him all the time, you wanted to give him love for days on end, without hesitation. Hearing these things, Haechan closed his eyes and smiled thinly, holding you in his arms with so much care and passion.

“Then go ahead, because I want you so much.”  He slurred the last two words. His lips found yours again in a quick, meaningful peck.

Before you knew it, you switched places, with you now sitting down on the sofa and him on top of you, his arms on either side of you as your mouths stuck to each other.

His kisses grew sloppy and slow, drawing them down your chin and jawline while you helplessly moaned. He was infatuated with all the sounds coming out of you, making sure to tear as many as he could from your pretty lips. He also grunted softly against your heated skin every now and then as your fingers curled in his soft hair.

Soon enough, your collarbones were being marked with blue bruises, his fingers drawing the lines of your waist and ribs under your shirt. It felt surreal.

The haze you were in suddenly broke when you heard the front door unlock and a bunch of feet trampling around the hallway, screaming and announcing their arrival with inhuman sounds. Chenle and Jisung were definitely there, and you were fairly sure Jeno was the one scolding them because “Hyuckie is sick and asleep!1!1!!!”.

 The two of you stared at each other in utter confusion. You both preferred the dreamies wouldn’t find out anything until you had discussed it properly, so you wordlessly nodded and brainstormed for a way to make the situation look a little better.

Haechan laid with his head on your stomach as you pulled the blanket over him, making it seem like the only thing happening was an innocent nap he had decided to take with you. His arms were wrapped around your legs as you sat and watched whatever was going on in the new movie that had started. You couldn’t help but keep your fingers between his soft caramel locks, making his face shine with a sleepy smile.

“YA Y/N!” Chenle shouted at you, as a greeting. The other two boys waved at you with puppy eyes. “We got things for Haechannie~”

You giggled and told them to leave the bags on the table, trying not to draw attention to yourself or the couch. Donghyuck impatiently shifted, facing your stomach and pressing sweet, lingering kissing onto your tummy, as you tugged at his hair in a desperate attempt to get him to stop. After all, he had to keep his trickster reputation up, even with his soon-to-be-girlfriend.

The boys eventually scattered to their rooms, leaving the two of you alone once again. He propped himself up to reach the level of your face then kissed you chastely.

“Do you really have to sleep in Jaemin’s room tonight?” he whined with his signature baby voice, tilting his head like a kitten.

You squeezed his cheeks with one hand, pecking his puckered lips.

“If you keep up with the fever, I’ll tell him I’m checking up on you.”

[is0gild]

Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 19

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 9,165

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

Neverland, as I was currently discovering, was a huge indoor playground at the Dusk Town Center mall. A place where children never had to grow up, or so its big overhead sign boasted. Its vast range of diversions for the little ones included such attractions as a jungle gym in the shape of a large comical skull, a huge green plastic alligator that had a slide built into its long back, and monkey bars supported at either end by large, spooky prop trees. Off in one corner, there were even synthetic, cute yet culturally problematic teepees for the tiny tots to crawl around and hide in. But its crowning jewel seemed to be the kiddie train that ran along the tracks circling the entire play area. Each of its carts were actually little pirate ships that could fit one child in it, maybe two if they were really little.

Since the playground was in the middle of a wide open mall walkway, many stores surrounded it, such as an antique shop by the name of Cave of Wonders. Beyond the rusty brass lamps in its window and past an old, tacky purple carpet draping off a shelf, a friendly young woman with long black hair tied back into a two-sectioned ponytail and wearing a turquoise crop top could be seen running the counter.

Next door to that was Game-A-Saurus Rex, a video game store sporting a green t-rex mascot as part of its logo. An absolute giant of an employee with messy brown hair was currently setting up a display pyramid but his meaty, clumsy hands accidentally knocked it over, wrecking it. I got the feeling this wasn't the first time from the look of being one hundred percent done he was receiving from his silver haired coworker with mismatched eyes.

Neighboring them, I was a bit surprised to discover there was even an Esmerelda's Secrets here as well, a… ahem, lingerie store, to use a more PG term. I found its location so near to the play area to be a bit of a questionable mall layout choice.

I sighed, paper bag lunch crinkling in my grip as I glanced around.

Where was he?

"Are you sure this is where he told you he wanted to meet up?" Kristoff asked beside me, his eyes scanning about as well. Thankfully, he'd forgiven me by now for the minor phone-hurling fiasco and we were back on speaking terms again.

"Positive," I fished my mobile out of my pocket with my free hand, rereading Lea's text asking me to head to Neverland once my lunch break had started.

Since I'd never heard of it before, I'd asked Kristoff (him being the closest person at hand since he'd been working the Ice Palace registers with me) if he'd known what it was. I figured he could at least point me in the right direction, which would be faster than looking at a mall directory. Instead, since he was getting off shift the same time I was going on lunch, he'd offered to walk me there, saying it was on his way anyway.

But now here we were and a certain redhead was nowhere to be seen.

"Bah, I'm sure he'll turn up any second now," Kristoff shrugged off with a laugh. I said nothing, just continued to frown down at my phone before raising my eyes to take another look around. Shoving one of his hands into his pocket while he used the other to ruffle the hair at the back of his head, Kristoff said, "So… your sister…"

"Anna? What about her?" I muttered distractedly, gaze still jumping from face to unfamiliar face. Come on, Lea was a friggin' mountain with hair like a beacon that could light a path home for even the most wayward of lost ships. The guy should have been sticking out like a sore thumb.

He pursed his lips to one side, slightly widened eyes darting about now. "She's… well, she's really… neat." I blinked, slowly looking over at him now. He stiffened, then gave a weak chuckle, "Did I say neat? Not neat, I meant, ah… pretty!" His face blanched. "Pretty… pretty, pretty swell, that is! Yeah, a real bangarang," insert his wince here, "gal that, uh... that's really, er…"

Annnnnd now he was blushing. What was with him, anyway? It was so unlike him to be getting all tongue-tied and-

Oh.

Oh dear. I knew what this was.

Someone had a crush.

Ugh, why did I have to be the one to break his heart by telling him my sister was already in a relationship?

"...anyway," his voice cracked and he coughed, beating a fist to his chest before trying again. "Anyway, what I'm trying to say, or… rather ask is... would you know if, ah… is... is she seeing any-" his idly wandering gaze landed on something past me and he froze, words dying on his tongue. Then his eyelids drooped. "...I think I found your boyfriend."

My brow furrowed at the face he was making before I turned on my heel, following his gaze.

I heard them before I saw them. Cheerful whoops and hollers echoing from the plastic tunnel over the railroad tracks, heralding the emerging train of pirate ships. Then there they were: Lea and Roxas, taking up a full boat each as the locomotive chugged along, their hands thrown up high over their heads as they cackled in almost maniac glee. The two kids in the cart behind them - a carrot top boy in a green cap embroidered with a red feather logo and a little blonde girl wearing toy fairy wings - were giving them funny looks.

I spluttered, my fingers shooting up to smother and hide the grin I was fighting. This was behavior I did not want to encourage.

There he was, ladies and gentlemen. My bad-boy boyfriend in all his glory.

I hope the Duke's spy wasn't here to witness this.

Scratch that, I'd rather no one were here to witness this.

"Those goddamn morons have been at this for over ten minutes now," I heard a grumble from a familiar voice close by. I looked to my right to discover Xion standing there, watching them with a scowl and one eye twitching. As the train drew near, she called out flatly, "Oh yeah, looking real classy there, guys!"

"We're posh as fuck!" Lea replied smugly with a pinky raised, heedless of what nearby young and impressionable ears might overhear. Then his eyes drifted past her to notice me for the first time. His already beaming face did the impossible and brightened even further. As his little pirate ship choo-chooed its way past us, he cried out, "There you are, El! 'Bout time! We're celebrating!"

"El? Who's El? No, you must have me mistaken for someone else. I don't know you," I shook my head, taking a step back. "Quick, let's get out of here," I hissed to Kristoff, snatching his arm with one hand and using the other to hide my face as I tried to make a hasty retreat.

"Oh-ho, no ya don't! You're not getting away that easily!" I heard Lea laugh behind me. I hazarded a quick glance over my shoulder to see him struggling to get out of the cart - he was wedged in there pretty good, seeing as how those boats were never meant to withstand a man of his considerable stature. However, he finally managed to wiggle himself free and jump off the moving kiddie train, stumbling over the railing surrounding it and leaving poor Roxas behind looking quite distraught at having been abandoned.

Then he was charging towards me and I spun around to face him, defensively throwing my hands up in front of me. "Got ya!" he declared triumphantly, snagging me by the waist, my arms instinctively going to hug his neck as he lifted me up and spun me around a couple times.

What was even happening?

"Right," Kristoff said. Don't ask me how, but I could distinctly hear the eyeroll in his voice. "I think I'm gonna go now."

He walked off and I frowned after him as Lea put me back down, though his arms still kept me trapped against him. Then I shrugged. Kristoff's wee crush would have to be a problem for another day. Looking up at Lea, I shook my head with a barely suppressed smile, "What has you so giddy?"

"I got my test grade back today," he chirped, nuzzling his nose to mine for all the crowded mall to see.

"Your test?" I cocked my head at him. Then it clicked. "Oh, the one I helped you study for? You passed?"

"Passed nothing, I aced that sucker! Made it my bitch and it was all thanks to you!" And with that, he was hoisting me up for another twirl.

"Dude, what the hell?!" a shout suddenly rang out across the mall before Roxas came bursting out of the press of shoppers, sneakers screeching to a halt in front of us as he glared at Lea. "Can't believe you just ditched me like that! I looked like a total dumbass riding that thing all by myself!"

"Oh sure," Xion deadpanned at his side, "cuz you looked like a regular Einstein before as a grown-ass man riding around in the widdle choo-choo train with another grown-ass man."

Roxas crossed his arms and stuck his nose up in the air with a harrumph. "You're just jelly cuz we didn't invite you."

She scoffed, "You didn't invite me cuz I turned you guys down the last ten times you tried to drag me onto that dumb thing because I didn't want to look stupid."

"Your face looks stupid!"

Xion lunged at him, but Lea had already put me down and was snagging them both by the scruff of their shirt collars, dragging them apart from each other. He sighed, "Kiddos, please, would you start acting like the grown-ups that you are?"

Said the adult man who'd just been joyriding in the kiddie train.

Seriously, how were these three even college students? They all acted like a bunch of preschoolers.

"Ha, fat chance with this dope," Xion snerked, reaching across to flick Roxas in the forehead.

"Why you-" he broke free of Lea's grasp. Xion gasped and managed to squirm loose herself, bolting and squealing with laughter as she disappeared into the crowd, Roxas hot on her heels.

"Oi, kids these days. I give up," Lea grumbled, shaking his head and tossing his hands up in defeat. "Now where were we?" Looking back at me, his eyes lit up. "Ah yes," he bent forward, bringing us nose to nose with a tiny smirk, "my reward."

Both eyebrows shot up my forehead and I staggered back a bit. "Your… reward?"

"Mm-hm!" he nodded, grin twitching wider. "For kicking that test's ass, I get a reward! It's standard girlfriend protocol."

I blinked, "...it is?"

"Didn't ya read your dating handbook?"

...there's a handbook?!

Wait. No. That was just a joke.

And wishful thinking on my part.

Because I mean, seriously, how much easier would my life be right now if I could consult a handbook?

That aside, I had to get back to the matter at hand: some kind of reward for Lea. Which was my duty as the girlfriend. Apparently. What did that even entail? What was it supposed to be? What was I supposed to do? My face paled and my hands clenched. This was too much responsibility to be thrust onto me all of a sudden! What, was I supposed to buy him something? Or… maybe this was this another PDA situation? I mean, I hadn't made a move in that department since the roller rink a couple days ago. If tripping and crashing into him even counted. Which, personally, I was still chalking up as one for the win column. Had to take my small victories wherever I could! That said… perhaps it was high time I gave it another go?

Yes. Okay. I was going to do this. This… I was going to do.

My gaze hardened and my nostrils flared slightly as I started taking deep, sharp breaths, psyching myself up.

I got this. No more putting it off. Be strong! Be brave! Carpe diem! Seize the day! Grab the bull by the horns! Strike while the iron's hot!

Lea snerked, straightening up, "Woah, El, your face! Relax! I'm kidding! Just teasing ya like I always-"

YOLO!

I dropped my lunch bag, grabbed his head in both hands, yanked him down and kissed him.

...on the nose.

Way to bury the lead there, I know.

But hey, it still counted! Let me have this!

I held it for the space of a few thundering heartbeats before I pulled back, releasing his face and doing my best to ignore the slight jitters I felt from the adrenaline surge.

Lea was stock-still and just giving me a blank, wide-eyed stare.

Huh… not the reaction I was expecting.

A few long seconds ticked by where nothing happened. My eyes darted about nervously. Then I slowly, awkwardly picked my lunch sack back up off the floor. And still nothing from him. Nada. Not one peep.

Should… should I say something?

That's when he jolted upright (startling me half to death, I might add) and brought both his hands up to cup his nose, spinning around so his back was to me now.

Okay, really, really not the reaction I was expecting. At all. Just what-

Then it hit me.

I hadn't asked his permission first! And after he'd been so careful with me all this time too! Apparently I couldn't even return the favor! Fudge, this was like the Kissident all over again. Except worse! At least then, it'd been an accident. This time I'd done it on purpose! This was premeditated! Not to mention this now made me a repeat offender! A… a serial kisser! Would my reign of smooching terror never cease?

Anxiety eating up at me now like a swarm of angry ants in the pit of my stomach, I bit down on my bottom lip and took a hesitant step forward. "Lea?" I asked, my voice small. "Did I do something wrong or-"

"Nope! No, it was good. Really, really good," he said quickly, voice tight and muffled still by his hands. Then I heard him puff out a slow breath, watched his arms fall to his sides and he whipped around towards me once more, huge smile splitting his face in two. "So good, in fact, it's high-five worthy. Whaddya say, wanna high-five? Let's high-five." He held his palm up in front of me. I wordlessly stared back at him, arching an eyebrow. He was being weird, even for him. And why was he talking so fast? He hastily dropped his hand, "Not high-five. Forget that. That's stupid. We should, uh… we should go. Wanna go? Let's go."

As he snagged my free hand in his and tugged me into a walk beside him, I tipped my head to the left and uncertainly gave him some side-eye. "...where are we going?"

Seemingly already recovered, his grip shifted to instead hook our pinkies together as he shot me a wink. "Where all couples sneak off to whenever they have a lil free time. Somewhere dark, secret and secluded so," here he raised his voice for all to hear over the mall hub-bub, "we can make out!"

My feet faltered and I stumbled, barely catching myself as my face spontaneously broke out into its best impersonation of a tomato. "M-make out?!"

He snorted, bending close to my ear and whispering, "Calm down, only said it for show. We'll just find some place to lay low until your lunch is over and let the gossip mill churn." Straightening back up to his full height, he beamed, "Sound good, my knuddelbärchen?" A crease formed between my eyebrows and he chuckled. "Go on, ask. Ya know ya want to."

I sighed, "And knuddelbärchen is…?"

"German for cuddle bear," he pinched my cheek.

"No."

"You can sleep on it, then get back to me."

I rolled my eyes but held my tongue as I continued to let him lead the way to wherever it was we were going. It wasn't long before we entered a part of the mall I was more familiar with and he turned us down the deserted wing that was under construction. Ah, back to the clocktower then, was it? So be it.

Once the locked door was picked and we were inside, I started to head for the stairs but he stopped me with a hand on my elbow. At my questioning look, he said, "Dunno where the kiddos disappeared off to. They may have beat us to the punch and could be up there already, which'll totally bust our whole fake make-out sesh. Better to just hide out down here instead."

"Alright," I nodded as he released my arm.

And there it was again. That strangeness that seemed to hang in the air whenever we were alone together now. Whenever we didn't have to put on the act of being in a relationship. I was now so used to him lacing our fingers together every chance he got that when he didn't this time, instead opting to stuff his hands into his pockets with a grin and a soft "heh," my own hand almost felt… slighted? Bereft? Sad? Could hands even feel sad? Well, whatever the hand equivalent of sadness was, it felt that.

There were a couple large, dusty crates stored in here with us at the bottom of the clocktower. I stepped over to one, gingerly dusting off the surface before setting my paper bag down on top of it. Then I cleared my throat and looked to him with a small, timid smile. "This whole rent-a-boyfriend thing is really becoming a full time job now, isn't it? Sorry… to be wasting your time like this. I'm sure there are better ways you'd be preferring to spend it rather than stuck here with me."

Lea blinked at me, then huffed out a breath of a laugh. "Hey, you already forgetting whose idea it was for us to steal away on our own like this? Ya got nothing to be sorry for. I like this, it's fun! 'Sides," he moved to stand in front of me, leaning one shoulder against the wooden support beam there that was holding up the decrepit old staircase above us, "it's not a waste. I'm a big fan of my El time. Love having any excuse to hang out with ya and have you all to myself."

Cue heart spasm.

Dropping my gaze and tugging my Ice Palace cap down to hide my warming cheeks, I zeroed in on opening my lunch bag with far more acute focus than was absolutely necessary. Let's see what Mama Rayne had packed for me today, inquiring minds were simply dying to know. To him, I just mumbled, "To each their own, I guess."

"So…" he reached a hand out, index finger flicking the bill of my hat back up so he could meet my eyes when he smirked, "...you kissed me."

All color drained from my face.

Crud. Was hoping this wouldn't come up.

"I'm sorry!" came bursting out of me.

His head rocked back before he snorted and sighed, "You apologize too much, ya know that? Fine, I'll bite. What're you sorry for now?"

"I should've asked if that was okay before I did it!" I took off my cap, wringing it between my hands. "I overstepped, I shouldn't have just assumed! I hope I didn't freak you out or make things awkward or uncomfortable or, or weird or-"

"Woah, woah, slow down," he chuckled, holding up his hands. "Ya got nothing to worry about. I was totally, one hundred and ten percent cool with it!"

My eyebrows knit together. "Really?" I frowned, absently setting the hat down on the box. "But you seemed so… I thought I might've upset you or-"

"Upset? Nah, not even a lil bit! Surprised, maybe, cuz I never in a million years expected you to, ah… heh…" he paused, pursing his lips to the right as he dragged his hand along the nape of his neck. Then he closed his eyes in a grin, "How 'bout this? This, right here, right now, is me giving you the okay to do whatever you want to me from now on in order to maintain your girlfriend cover. Anything goes, got it?"

Eyes growing round, I stammered, "A-anything?"

He couldn't be serious! Anything was a lot. Anything was… well, anything.

"Yup, anything! Don't hold back. Just feel free to go to town on me."

This was too much power. Do not want. Take it back.

"I, uh…" What does one even say to that? "O-okay… thanks?" Was this something I should be thanking him for? Seemed like a weird thing to thank him for. This whole discussion just seemed weird, period. Concentrating on my packed lunch once more, I pulled out a ziplock of baby carrots. "...I don't think I'll be, er… going to town on you any time soon though, but the offer is, ah…" Is what? "...appreciated?" Sure, let's go with that.

"Shame," Lea tsked under his breath, then snerked as his hand shot up to block the carrot I threw at him. "Kidding, kidding! Still, just know that door's always open, in case ya ever wanna put on a bit of a show for any audience we might have. I won't be bothered. Promise."

"I'll keep that in mind," I muttered, taking out a second carrot to nibble on as I averted my gaze. Was ready to talk about something else now.

"Still, fact of the matter remains," one corner of his lips curled up, "you kissed me."

Gah! Would he stop saying that already!

A soft harrumph. "Only on the nose."

"One lucky nose!" He hunched forward slightly, pointing at it, "I'll have you know I'm never gonna wash this puppy ever again."

I snorted, setting the ziplock down on the box and reaching back into the paper sack to see what other goodies it contained. "Be serious."

"I am! Wouldn't wanna lose the divine blessing you've bestowed upon it on this fine day!"

Biting back a smile now as I continued to root around in the bag, I shook my head. "Does this mean that you also haven't washed your lips since the-" I abruptly froze, eyes widening and mouth clamping shut.

There was a pause, then I could see out of my peripheral the slow cheshire grin spreading across Lea's face. "Go on, since the…?"

Since the Kissident, was what I'd been about to say.

I knew it.

He knew it.

But did I have the guts to actually power through and finish that sentence?

Frantic fingers grabbing the first thing they could out of the lunch sack, I shoved it into his face with a weak laugh, "Chocolate pudding cup?"

Nope. I sure as heck most certainly did not.

Elsa, Queen of the Skillful and Seamless Subject Change.

"Oo!" he chirped in delight, taking it. Well, he was easily distracted. That, or he was just being nice and letting me off the hook. Probably the latter. "A nose kiss and pudding? Big day!"

With a soft, relieved sigh through my nostrils, I fished out a plastic spoon to hand him as well. "Don't forget about the train ride too. Big day indeed… do you and Roxas do that often?"

Having already torn into it and taken a spoonful into his mouth, he swallowed. "Not really. Only for special occasions. Wouldn't wanna cheapen the experience."

My eyes crinkled. "Because it's already so sophisticated and highbrow to begin with," I said, forgoing the PB and J sandwich at the bottom of the bag for now and instead opting to pull out some string cheese. Removing the wrapper, I asked, "Passing an exam counts as a special occasion?"

"Only the hard as balls ones that can make or break my overall grade for the course," he shrugged, scooping out some more pudding and offering it to me, to which I just shook my head.

"Ah," I rested one hip against the crate, peeling off a thin strip of mozzarella and slipping it into my mouth. "How many years do you have left on your degree anyway?"

"Couple more. Though I hear if I'm a model student, they'll let me graduate early for good behavior."

"Don't think that's how it works," I hummed a low laugh. "Then after that… what was it again? ...a nice little ice cream shanty by the seashore, I believe?"

Lea grinned around his spoon, "Something like that."

Pulling off another strand, I hesitated with a slight frown. "...but why ice cream?" At his cocked head and raised eyebrows, I worried my lower lip between my teeth. How to phrase this? "...it's just been something I've been wondering about actually. What with your mother dropping you off at an ice cream shop before she, ah... split when you were so little, I would have thought it would just be a… a source of bad memories, is all."

He snorted, looking down at his spoon as he swirled it around in the chocolate goop. "S'not the ice cream's fault my deadbeat mom abandoned Saïx and me when we were kids. She's taken a lot from me, I won't let her take that too. 'Sides, also got a lotta good memories tied to ice cream. Fun times with friends and whatnot. It's nice that something so simple can bring a smile to people's faces and I just like the idea of being a part of that. Sounds silly, I know, but what can I say?" He thrust the now heavily pudding-laden utensil up high in the air, "I have a calling! And answer it I must!"

I brought a curled finger to my lips, hiding the tiny smile. "Some calling. You still haven't even guessed which one's my favorite yet."

"Told ya, it's a process," he stuck the spoon into his mouth, holding it there as he squinted thoughtfully. "Speaking of… lessee, what other flavors haven't come up yet… ah! Three Wishes?" he asked, pointing the plastic implement at me. Then he scoffed, "Yeah right. Way too gimmicky with all that blue cotton candy. It's trying too hard. Classy and effortless is more your speed."

My smile ticked wider as my fingers plucked further at the string cheese. "Are we still even talking about ice cream anymore?"

"Course! Trust me, I've got this down to a science. I know my shit."

"If you say so," I gave a soft snort. "You really have me at the edge of my seat here. I can't wait to see which one you finally land on."

"Me neither. I'm just as much on this journey as you are," he chuckled, tossing the now empty cup onto the crate alongside the paper bag. Propping one shoulder against the post again, he looked down and scratched his cheek. "...hey, so, ya free in a couple nights? Saïx's been wanting to meet my new lady friend and suggested we have you over for dinner."

Finishing the last of my own snack, I quirked an eyebrow at him. "He knows you have a lady friend?"

"Wasn't hard for him to guess since I've been out all night a lot recently, what with your couch being my new home away from home."

"Oh." My fingers reached for a tendril of my ponytail to twist as I mulled for a second. "Yeah, I suppose… I don't have any closing shifts coming up for a while, so I'm free for the next few nights. Just let me know when."

"Sweet! We can see this as a test run of sorts. Practice for the big weekend with your folks and-" he suddenly fell silent, head jerking to his right. I blinked, confused. Then I heard it too. This soft rattling coming from the doorknob - the telltale sounds of a lock being picked. "Crap! The kiddos! Hide," Lea hissed, grabbing my shoulders and shoving us both beneath the staircase, my back hitting the wall behind me.

The door burst open. I didn't so much see it since the stairs were now between me and it, blocking my line of sight, but I heard it along with the echoing laughter of two very familiar voices. As it slammed shut again and the staircase began to quake from feet running up it hard, I heard Xion ask, "Think we'll find them up there?"

"Probably." That was Roxas. I turned my head to the left, watching through the slats between the steps as his sneakers blurred past. "Giving each other tonsillectomies, no doubt."

My face heated as I realized they were talking about Lea and me.

But good news! Lea's plan was working. People thought we were off somewhere, er... shall we say, necking.

Or at the very least, those two thought so anyway.

I heard a snigger from Xion as her boots rushed past the gap not too far behind him. "Perfect. Let's scare them shitless."

They both cackled and tried to shush each other at the same time as I heard their thudding footsteps fade further and further away above us. Once I was certain they were gone, I puffed out the breath I'd been holding.

That's when I became aware of several things. Very, very aware.

Aware of the familiar feeling of Lea's eyes on me. Aware of how close we were. Of his grip still on my shoulders. Of my hands on his chest. Of the gentle thud of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. Of his warm, spicy boy scent. Of his body pressed to mine, pinning me to the wall still from his rush just seconds ago to get us both out of sight. Of the fact that I could still sense his gaze on me.

Oh gosh, was there something on my face?

I slowly turned my head to look up at him and meet his eyes. He had that look in them again that I'd seen once or twice before. The one that made my insides twist and flip-flop.

Emergency! This is not a drill, people! Fetch the conceal-don't-feel armor and suit up, stat! I repeat, this is not a drill!

The slightest hint of a grin tugged at the corner of his lips and when he spoke, his voice was low. Barely above a whisper. "You know what would… really sell this make-out sesh? ...if right along here..." he ran the tip of his index finger along the side of my neck down to where it met my shoulder, so lightly I hardly felt it, his eyes following its trail the whole time, "...there was a hickey. Maybe two or three. Ya know… just for appearances, of course..."

I just stared at him for a second. Then two. Then I smiled, "That's a great idea!"

He looked taken aback, his gaze widening. "Wait, really?!"

"Of course! Did you bring any makeup with you?" I asked. He just gave me a blank look. "You know, like your guyliner. Do you have anything else? Something that could make the fake marks look convincing?"

He blinked a couple times. "Makeup… right… that's what I meant… heh..." his eyes darted to the left. "But shoot, you know what? Didn't bring any with me." A slow smirk stretching across his face now, he bent down to press his forehead to mine as his eyes hooded, "But hey... we could also always make 'em the old fashioned way."

Once more I stared, expression neutral.

Processing… processing…

Then my eyelids drooped. "...you're messing with me again, aren't you?"

Lea stiffened. Then he relaxed, straightening back up and bracing an elbow against the wall above my head, resting his brow to his forearm as his whole body shook with a soft chuckle. "Yup! Yup, you uh… you caught me alright! Totes was."

Conceal-don't-feel armor saves the day once again! If it hadn't been for that, my heart might have exploded in that situation.

Man, was I getting good at deflecting these little jokes of his now or what?

He shifted over and away from me, giving us both some breathing room now. "Do you think maybe we should go somewhere else?" I asked, my gaze drifting up the clocktower as I returned to the crate, repacking my lunch back into its bag and picking up my hat. Thank goodness the "kiddos" hadn't noticed this stuff before dashing upstairs. "Just so Xion and Roxas don't catch us down here?"

"Sure, good call. I gotta few other secret spots 'round this place we can hole up in until your lunch is over." He went to the door, pushing it open a crack so he could peek out.

"Okay," I nodded while waiting for him to make sure the coast was clear. Then I grinned. "You know, you almost had me going back there with the hickies."

"If only," he muttered so softly, I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly.

"Hm?"

His shoulders tensed, then he breathed a feeble laugh as he glanced back at me, "If only… I'd, er... remembered to bring some makeup! Ah well, maybe next time, huh? C'mon, let's go." His hand reached for mine.

I took it and suddenly my hand didn't feel so sad anymore as I let him lead me back out into the mall.

I couldn't sleep.

I rolled over onto my left side, pulling the sheets up to my chin and curling in on myself a bit. Then over to my right. A few seconds ticked by. Then I rested my back to the mattress and frowned up at my bedroom ceiling, at the long thin patch of frail moonlight slashing across it from between the curtains of my window. Sighing, I tossed over onto my side again and tried putting my head beneath the pillow this time, hoping the added darkness and some light hypoxia would do the trick to knock me out.

No such luck.

With another heavy sigh, I sat up, letting the pillow fall back down behind me. I brought a hand up towards one of my earplugs, stopping just short of reaching it as I frowned over at the wall I shared with my roommates. Then I tentatively pulled it out, already preemptively grimacing as the noises I might hear.

Instead my ears were greeted with a very different sound and from a different direction no less. Coming through my closed door from the living room was a faint, hollow murmur of voices. I squinted towards it, tipping my head to one side. Was that… the TV? Tugging the other earplug out, I set both down onto my nightstand as I listened for another minute, my fingers fiddling with my braid. Then folding my sheets away from me, I got out of bed, smoothed my nightgown and crept over to the door to open it.

Lea was sitting on his couch out here, the glow of the television screen the only thing illuminating him in the otherwise dark living room. Since him couch-surfing here was becoming a bit of a habit now, he'd started bringing an overnight bag with him for things like toiletries and the pyjamas he was currently wearing - a black tank top and PJ pants patterned with tiny fireballs sporting evil smiley faces. In fact I think it may have been the same design on the frisbees I'd seen back at his apartment. Some kind of brand logo, perhaps?

His elbows were braced up on the backrest behind him, temple propped against one fist as he watched the screen. He glanced over at me as I stepped out, quirking an eyebrow and lifting his head off his knuckles. "El?"

I gave my braid a tiny tug before dropping my hands and clasping them together, forcing them to be still as I gave him a small smile. "You're up late."

He grinned back. "Yeah. Never really could pass out to total silence," he nodded towards where his own earplugs laid discarded on the coffee table. Then he wrinkled his nose, shooting a sideways glance towards Rayne's and Riku's room. "But shit, you weren't kidding 'bout those two going at it like jackrabbits in there. Had to do something to tune 'em out, so turned on the ol' tube and guess what I found?"

I moved to stand beside him for a better view of the TV. The scene was currently zoomed in on a couple riding in the back row seat of a trolley. The girl was distracted, lost in whatever she was talking about while the guy was reaching his hand over to tuck her hair back, only to awkwardly snatch it away when she suddenly turned to look at him, completely oblivious to the gesture as she continued to enthusiastically ramble on. My smile grew as I took a seat next to Lea. "It's Before Dawn. Imagine that."

"I know. What timing, right?" he hummed a small laugh. We were both quiet for a few seconds, simply watching the movie. Then he nudged my knee with his, "And what brings ya out here in the middle of the night? Other than the pleasure of my charming company, of course."

That earned him a soft snort as I slouched more comfortably into the sofa and picked up one of the small throw pillows, hugging it in my arms. "Trouble sleeping."

"Oh?" he looked over at me, relaxing his hand along the top of the cushions behind my head. "Something on your mind?"

I gnawed on my bottom lip, not taking my eyes off the television even though I wasn't really paying attention to it anymore. "...it's just coming up so fast."

Brow furrowing, he squinted up at the ceiling in thought for a second. "You mean our visit to the parental units?"

My insides churned as I gave a small nod. "It's only a week away now. It doesn't feel like enough time. I don't know if I'll be able to go through with this… if we… if I will be prepared in time… if I'll be able to face them."

"Hey, don't worry 'bout it," he flashed a warm grin. "You and me? We got this. I like to think we've become quite the awesome dynamic duo. Gotten pretty good at this whole girlfriend-boyfriend thing. Got the entire mall buying into our story and if we can fool them, we can fool anyone."

"But it's not anyone," I muttered, squeezing the pillow more tightly to me. "It's Father. And Mother. And..." my face scrunched up, "...the Duke too? ...for some reason? Anyway, tricking Father for a grand total of five minutes was one thing, but now? Now it's my whole family. For a whole weekend. What if they find out?" Oh dear, I could already feel a panic attack coming on just thinking about it. I turned my head, frowning at him. "...what if I can't do this?"

The hand behind me lifted, hesitantly hovering and shifting about for a second before settling on a quick, reassuring pat to my head. "Just say the word and you can pull the plug on this whole op anytime ya want. Don't force yourself to do anything you don't wanna do. But just know you're a lot stronger than you think. And chances are? It won't be as bad as you fear." He poked himself in the side of the head, just above his left ear, "Our brains like to mess with us, tell us things will be a lot worse than they actually turn out to be. And 'sides, you won't be doing this alone. I'll be right there with you the whole weekend. Your sister too. We got your back. You got a support system. Consider us your safety net. We'll be there to pick up the slack and catch you if you fall."

I bowed my head, nose perched on top of the edge of the pillow now. "...thank you. That helps," I muffled into it, my tiny smile hidden. And I meant it. I could already feel some of my unease starting to slip away. Straightening back up and tossing my head back onto the couch, I inhaled deeply before loudly exhaling. "I should just stop thinking about it. Stressing out over it now does me no good. I need to be talking about something else."

"Something else, huh?" he mumbled, eyes returning to the movie as he scratched the tip of his nose. "...so I had a thought. Remember the other day when you said you'd be looking for a new place in a few months when lil Baby Hewley arrived?" His knee started jiggling up and down while out of the corner of my eye, I could see his fingers fidgeting with the seam of the backrest cushions. "Well, what if… and ya know, this would only be if you weren't able to find somewhere on your own and if, like… you had no place else to go and were up shit's creek and whatnot, but… what if you moved in with…" he glanced back my way, "...me?"

I blinked at him. "...you?"

His face brightened. "Yeah, whaddya think? We got plenty of space for ya! It'll be a total blast! And hey, we could even get ya a puppy."

Fighting a grin, I quirked an eyebrow. "A puppy? But what about Saïx?"

"Psh," he brushed off, one hand batting the air. "Saïx can fight me. You want a dog? You're getting a dog, end of story."

I snerked and looked down. Lips pursing to one side, I did a mental replay of what I could remember of when Lea had given me the grand tour of his apartment. "...am I forgetting a third bedroom you guys have?"

"Nah," he shook his head, "just the two. But you can have mine and I'll just… I dunno, sleep on the couch."

"You can't sleep on the couch in your own home," I scoffed.

"Sure I can! I'm actually growing quite accustomed to catching some Z's on 'em. These bad boys are surprisingly comfy," he pat the armrest next to him and beamed. "In fact, dunno if I can ever go back to a lame ol' bed again!"

Rolling my eyes, I said, "I meant because Saïx will see you. Won't he have questions about you sleeping on the sofa every night?"

"Oh. Right," he laughed, fingers ruffling his hair. "Well then I can just… sleep in the room with you. On the floor," he hastily amended. "Yeah, it'll be fun! Like a slumber party every night!"

One side of my lips twitched up as I toyed with the corner of the throw pillow I was still holding snug. "You're sweet, but… no, that'd just be crazy."

"...yeah. Crazy," he averted his gaze with a tiny chuckle. Then he frowned, plucking the short hairs at the nape of his neck. "...is it though? I mean, think about it. It'd be like the next stage of our dating evolution. That's what all couples do sooner or later, right? Move in together?"

"But the baby will be here in, what…" both my eyebrows rose as I stared off into space, "...four more months? Five? I figure we'll have probably staged a breakup by then."

"Breakup?!" he jerked forward in his seat, eyes widening slightly.

I knit my eyebrows together. "Well yeah. You… didn't think we were going to be fake dating forever, right?"

"Well, I…" he hunched forward, propping his elbows on his knees and folding his hands together beneath his nose as he narrowed his gaze on the floor. "...no, I guess not."

I tilted my head at him. Then opened my mouth. Then closed it. I focused on the TV instead. "...I figured… it'd be some time after we visited my parents. Depending on how it goes, of course. Once I was…" I shrugged, gripping the pillow more tightly, "...sure they weren't going to try to interfere with my life anymore. After that… maybe a few more weeks? A month, perhaps? Just so it wouldn't look too quick, too… suspicious or raise questions…"

Why was this so hard? Why did it make my heart squeeze, just a bit? Come on, it's not like it was a real breakup! Besides, this could maybe, possibly, eventually open up the door to actually start something more real with him in the future. If I ever got the guts up to even pursue something like that… whenever he started dating again… which would be when he no longer had to focus on his schoolwork… aka when he graduated...

...in two years…

Why did that suddenly seem like an eternity?

"...yeah," he sighed and slumped back again, his arm returning to its position behind me as he stretched them both out along the backrest once more, "that all makes sense, I guess." His lips were a flat line for a few seconds, but then he grinned over at me. "Tell ya one thing, though. Fake getting over you ain't gonna be easy. Might have to try and fake win you back."

"Oh no," I stifled a soft laugh into my fingers. "Hang on, let me guess… You. In a trenchcoat. Standing in the middle of the bustling food court. Boombox held high over your head and blasting out some old, cheesy love song. That about sum it up?"

He smirked, "Ah, fan of the classics like me, I see. Good guess, but I was actually thinking less John Cusack in Say Anything and more Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You. Me. With a mic hacked into the food court's overhead speakers. Singing and dancing around on table tops while mall security chases me all over the place."

This big dork really was a sap. That is, if his taste in movies had anything to say about it.

Shaking my head in amusement, I said, "Who's to say you'd even fake want me back? Maybe it's you who ends up fake dumping me."

He huffed out a derisive snort, "Not a chance. I'd never be dumb enough to let someone like you go." I looked away, grateful the light from the TV wasn't bright enough to reveal the gentle warmth spreading into my cheeks. Lea shrugged as he went on, "Now, dumb enough to do something stupid and royally fuck it up so you'd kick my ass to the curb however? Yeah, now that sounds like it'd be pretty on brand for me."

"No, I don't think so," I smiled, resting my chin atop the seam of the throw pillow. "...thanks, Lea. I feel a lot better now. You're a… a really good friend."

Lea was quick to return the smile, "It's what I'm here for!" His gaze went back to the screen and there was a brief pause where the only sound was the low drone from the movie. "So… was that your roundabout way of wishing me a good night?"

"Hmm..." A beat before I shook my head, "Not yet. I think I'd like to stay and watch for a little while longer, if that's alright."

"It's more than alright," the corners of his eyes crinkled as he settled into his seat more comfortably. "It's alright times two."

I'm not sure exactly when it was I nodded off. Last scene I clearly remembered was our leading couple sitting at a restaurant together, their hands miming phones to their ears as they made imaginary calls to one another, so it must have been not too long after that. Next thing I knew I was blinking blearily at the television as it showed the girl now sitting on a bed in a small apartment, serenading the guy with her guitar. They both looked maybe a few years older. Must have been one of the sequels to the first movie. I was less familiar with those. It seemed Lea had stumbled upon some sort of late night marathon.

As consciousness returned to me piece by tiny piece, it slowly came to my attention that there was something... off about the pillow my cheek was resting against. Like the fact that it was oddly firm. And warm. And…

...breathing?

Eyes fully snapping open now, they darted about to realize I'd fallen asleep on Lea. Against his chest, to be exact. Embarrassed and panicking maybe just a smidge, I immediately tried to straighten up and away from him, only to be held firmly in place by the arm - his arm - that was draped heavily around my shoulders. I furrowed my brow over at it. Wha-?

Then he made a noise and I tensed.

Took me several heart-pounding seconds to register that noise for what it was.

A snore.

Puffing out a hushed breath and forcing my muscles to relax, I tentatively, cautiously turned my head to try and look up at him. Didn't work, and it only took me another second to realize why. There was a weight pressing down on the top of my hair that I hadn't really noticed until just now.

He was using my head as a pillow.

Welp. This was quite the predicament I found myself in.

Oh gosh, I just hope we'd fallen asleep roughly around the same time and had just, I don't know... naturally gravitated toward one another in our slumber? If I'd been snuggling up to him like this while he was awake the whole time, I'd never live it down.

Next thing my brain decided to alert me to was the fact that I'd misplaced my throw pillow. I must have dropped it when I'd dozed off for I was pretty sure I could feel it on the floor brushing against my bare feet. But that wasn't the important part. No, the important part was what my hands had decided to do in the wake of its disappearance. Left hand? It was good. Just laying there in my lap, all well behaved and polite-like. The right one, however? Had found its way over to rest atop Lea's knee. The little trollop. Especially considering that one of his hands was currently covering it. Had it no decency? No shame?

I considered my situation for another minute. Then taking a deep breath, I decided to commence with the extraction. Should be easier now that I was fully awake and aware of my circumstances so I could approach it all with a cooler, more level head.

First I used my free hand to gently lift his arm from my shoulder and gingerly set it back down on the couch backrest. Another snore from him and I froze. After a few seconds where nothing else happened however and I was sure I hadn't disturbed him, I then proceeded to bring my hand back up, this time to delicately press my fingertips to his chin.

Careful now, careful… wouldn't want to wake him…

I slowly pushed his head off mine and kept going until it lolled back onto the cushions behind him instead. With nothing left weighing me down now, I crept up onto my feet and peeked back at him to make sure he still snoozed. I was rewarded with yet another soft snore. That was all the confirmation I needed. I turned to make a break for my room.

Victory! Success! Elsa, Queen of The Daring Escape and-

Ack!

...okay, so something had just happened. More precisely, two somethings, both occurring at the exact same time. The first? Was my arm being pulled taut and bouncing me back like a rubber band stretched too tight. I stumbled but caught myself, the carpet muffling any sound I might have made. The second? Now that was just a word. One single, solitary word:

"Stay."

That one word sent my heart catapulting up into my throat as I whipped around to discover Lea had pulled his head up and was now looking straight at me.

Fudge, fudge, fudge, fudge!

...but actually… wait… his eyelids were sagging heavily. Half closed and groggy. His expression slack. And now that I thought about, when he'd spoken, it had come out sounding a little… sluggish? One might even say… drowsy?

...was he still half asleep?

I haltingly raised a hand to wave in front of his face. No reaction. As my shallow breaths began to slow and my heart rate calmed, I next looked down at my other hand to see what the snag had been there. This was the one that had been on his knee with his hand on top of it. Was still on top of it and, in fact, had tightened his grip around my fingers. This was what had snared me and brought my getaway to a screeching halt.

Yeesh, what a clingy sleeper he must be.

I brought my gaze back up to his face. He was still giving me that droopy, zombie-eyed stare. I tucked in my lower lip, studying him for a moment. Then I took a tiny step closer and bent over him slightly. My free hand came up, reaching for him. I froze midway, fingers curling towards my palm, hesitating. But only for a heartbeat before I was pushing forward again.

"Shh… go back to sleep," I whispered, gently stroking his hair just above his ear.

His really, really soft, silky smooth hair.

Which I'd not been expecting. Not at all.

Crud, I shouldn't be blushing this much.

However, it seemed to have the desired effect. His eyelids drifted all the way closed now as his head sank back down into the couch cushion. His hold on my hand relaxed enough for me to slip it free. I straightened back up, rubbing my rescued hand with the other as I watched him sleep for a few more seconds, my head tipping to one side. Then I retrieved the throw pillow from the floor and put it back on the sofa next to him before picking up the comforter to drape over him. It was only now I realized that it was too small for him for if I brought it up to cover his shoulders, it left his feet exposed.

The friggin' behemoth. Why hadn't he said anything? I'd have to see about finding a bigger one for him tomorrow.

I briefly considered turning off the TV but decided against it on the off chance the sudden lack of noise would wake him. Turning, I tiptoed back towards my bedroom, stopping in the doorway for one last backwards glance at him. Still out like a light. A grin pulled at one side of my mouth as I murmured, "Sweet dreams, sleeping beauty."

The only answer I got was a snore.

Author's Note: Our awkward penguin did it! She intentionally "made a move" for the first time, I'm so proud T_T Looks like our fire boi tried to make a bit of a move himself under the clocktower staircase there… with far less successful results xD One step forward, two steps back, huh? *Siiiiigh* ah well, these two will get there eventually :P And this is yet another chapter I lament not writing anything from Lea's POV… so many scenes in my head going on for him off camera that will never see the light of day xD Fun fact: The ice cream this chapter, Three Wishes, is named after (you guessed it) Agrabah's keyblade and I imagine its description on the menu would look something like: "This blueberry flavored soft serve will have you wishing for more! Comes in a blue cone wrapped in a ring of matching blue cotton candy, with lamp-shaped sugar cubes and a sprinkling of extra sugar to top it all off."

Next chapter, with that "make a move" hurdle finally overcome, what's next in our couple's fake dating adventures? Looks like there's a certain dinner with a certain Moon Boy on the horizon, how will this lil "test run" go? Will it be a resounding success or could it spell utter defeat for our pair? Not to mention the weekend with the folks is fast approaching, will our couple be ready in time? And just how DOES Lea fit his behemoth self into those itty-bitty pirate ship train carts? Some things will forever remain a mystery, but for the rest, stay tuned!

Thanks for reading, I super duper appreciate it! And an extra BIG thank you to those of you who’ve liked, reblogged, and followed so far, seeing those lil notifications always brings the biggest, goofiest smile to my face!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

[brokenjardaantech]

captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 5: scars

me: tries to write a short

my brain: how bout some sexy time?

notes: set in the same universe as day 1+7. it is half a year after the android revolution. allen’s dating 60 who’s non-binary and is using they/them pronouns, so i tried to avoid gender-specific vocab for 60 here. please let me know if i fucked up.

warning: smut ahead

----

Decimus starts with the small one on the back of Lou’s left hand. ‘This one?’

‘It’s stupid,’ the human says, reclining further into the permanent pillow for his bed has become after the android moved in. He looks down at his significant other using his chest as a pillow and is met with soft, large, puppy dog eyes which seems to be Decimus’ constant except during missions. 

‘Please?’ Des asks with a pout. Before Lou can react, they have already brought the hand to their mouth and given the scar a lick. 

Fucking androids. ‘Fine,’ the human’s voice is filled with fond exasperation. ‘It’s from a bug bite. Scratched it so hard that I broke skin. I used to have a few more, but they faded throughout the years.’

Decimus kisses the raised patch of skin with the reverence as if it is something precious. Smoothing his hand from above Lou’d belly button to his neck, they return to the human’s collarbone where a long scar sits. ‘And this one?’

Lou sighs, his smile turning sad. ‘When Anna and I first moved from Alaska. I nearly got mugged. She saved my life that day.’

The android kisses the pale, smooth piece of flesh. Lou doesn’t stop them as they start nibbling on it. ‘How?’

‘There was...this scaffold,’ Lou’s voice becomes distant. ‘Anna collapsed it on the muggers. Only one survived.’

Decimus frowns. ‘I’m...sorry.’

‘It’s a long time ago,’ the human buries his hand in the android’s hair and plants a kiss there. With his nose buried in synthetic strands, he murmurs, ‘I’ve made peace with it.’

‘That your sister kills so freely?’

‘And more.’

Decimus’ LED spins yellow, and Lou knows that they’re processing the news. He had no one to talk to about Anna until he and Decimus crossed paths, and by the time the android helps him realize how fucked up everything was, he is already numb to most of it.

Des lifts their head only when they’re satisfied with the bruise they have sucked into their boyfriend’s skin. Supporting themself on their arms, they glide their naked body against Lou’s until they can nuzzle the long, thin scar behind the human’s ear along his hairline. ‘And this?’

‘Neural implant,’ Lou holds the android closer and exchanges a chaste kiss. ‘Helps me control my biotics, weak as they are.’

Decimus shifts and kisses Lou’s nose where a thin scar sits. ‘You’re already better than a lot of people. How about this one?’

‘’Cause they don’t even know biotics are a thing, Des.’ As if to demonstrate his point, he shrouds his hand in a blue halo. ‘Compared to you, Connor, Anna, Ryder… I can barely move my phone from one side of a table to another without wrecking anything else. And that’s from Anna accidentally punching me too hard when I taught her how to fight.’

The android hums, not quite agreeing with their boyfriend on his biotics but not exactly disagreeing either. Two fingers trace the twin scars above Lou’s left eyebrow, and before Des asks, the human explains, ‘Car crash. Some idiot rammed their car into the but I was taking. The window shattered and cut me.’

Decimus kisses them and does the same to the two forming an inverted Y under their boyfriend’s eye. ‘And this?’

Lou’s expression visibly darkens. ‘Ryder.’ A deep breath. Knowing that nothing good comes from their creator, Des kisses those scars as well to try to soothe the pain both physical and emotional. ‘She had her skin on so I didn’t know that she was converted into an android. The building was collapsing, she was blocking the only exit, and I really wanted to live to see Anna getting promoted. So I tried to fight her. Needless to say, a fleshy human is no match for an android who has a chassis of metal and biotics. By the time she’s finished with me, she already broke my legs. She could’ve left me to die there.’

‘But she didn’t,’ Des says, their voice distant. ‘She crushed you with a building as if what she had done to you wasn’t enough.’

‘I’m here now.’

They kiss deeply, and Decimus’ hands slide downwards along smooth planes of muscles and stop at the bottom of Lou’s rib cage.

A thick, pink line runs along the bottommost rib. ‘How?’ they ask.

‘Complex fracture of the rib,’ is the reply. ‘Feel this?’ Lou holds Decimus’ hand and guides smooth finders along the bone. The android nods. ‘Most of it is titanium now. A few screws hold it in place.’

Des buries their face in Lou’s abs. ‘Must have hurt.’

The human combs through the android’s hair and cups their jaw, the latter leaning into the firm but gentle touch. Sea-green eyes meet synthetic brown, both pairs equally warm. ‘I was out for most of it,’ Lou explains. ‘The only pain I felt is realizing that I was the only one to have survived the blast,’ he tears his gaze away as his jaw stiffens, ‘and sacrificing part of my humanity in doing so.’

‘Lou -’

‘Don’t worry, it’s been a long time,’ Lou brushes the stray curl of hair which never seems to stick to the coif just to see it flop down again. His hand stays on the back of Decimus’ neck. ‘I may never forgive what Anna did, but it saved my life. I get to live to have met you.’

A sad, sideways smile from the android, their eyes somehow managing to get even more watery. Des moves further down, the sensors in their fingertips allowing them to find out precisely where organic skin ends and gives way to flexible polymer and synthskin, and they press their lips there. A proof of concept that artificial intelligence and organic creations can co-exist. Then they kiss him once more, this time closer to his belly button and the V of his legs. Their tongue darts out to taste the blend of sweat and something not organic that blends into what Decimus associates with Lou. Licking and kissing a trail to the human’s shaft, Des slowly lets information flood their processors until Lou is his entire world. They look up when they’re bare inches from their mark. ‘Is this alright?’

The large hand in their hair grounds them. Dilated pupils, heavy breaths, increased blood and thirium flow throughout his system and heart rate. Decimus knows the answer before Lou opens his mouth.

‘Go on, Des.’ Then in French, ‘But I want to be in you later.’

Des shivers from the promise which they know Lou will deliver. As they kiss and lick his shaft with both hands wrapped around the base, the taste of Lou overwhelming their sensors and processors, their entrance clutches involuntarily and futilely against the onslaught of the first gush of slick, and they can feel the thirium-based lubricant sliding warmly down his thighs and drips onto the bed, onto their own and even Lou’s legs. Closing their lips around the head and tasting Lou’s precome, they can’t help but whine around the cock in their mouth, the emptiness amplified by the low throb of their own organ.

‘Prepare yourself if you want to,’ Lou says, and that is all the permission Decimus needs before reaching down with their left hand and shoves not one but two fingers immediately into the wet heat, stretching tight synthetic muscles to search for the bundle of sensors which serves as an erogenous zone while their mouth sinks down to take more of Lou’s dick, and when the head touches their throat, tears which have been threatening to fall since the beginning from the sheer intensity of their deeds rolls down Des’ cheek just to be wiped away gently by callused fingers. Lips still stretched around Lou’s member, Decimus risks looking up and immediately has to shut their eyes: the trust, the adoration, the love - it is too much.

Their fingers finding the sensors sends them over the edge. Lubricant gushes out from both their entrance and their untouched cock, their entire body quivering and barely able to support themself, and no matter how hard slick, warm walls clutch around their fingers, it is not enough. Faintly, they can hear Lou’s constant reassurance - ‘So good for me, I’m here. I trust you. Take your time.’ - but it isn’t until the man has to tug Decimus’ hair that they notice that they’ve been trying but failing to take Lou down their throat. Their jaw, for the lack of a better term, hurts. ‘Lou, I -’

‘Shh, come here.’

Lou pulls Decimus up and flips them over so that he is lying on top of them, his face hovering mere inches from the androids to force him to look at nothing else but him. When he reaches to wipe away their tears, Des’ skin deactivates wherever their bodies are touching, and the human doesn’t need to look down to know that the skin covering his cybernetics is completely gone. 

They are interfacing.

Although the connection is shallow, it manages to calm Des down just fine, and soon the full-body wrecks are reduced to no more than the occasional sob and tremble, which is normal for the android after every orgasm. All Lou wants to do right now is to bend them in half and fuck them to standby mode, but they had set up a few rules when they started dating, and making sure that both parties are in to go on is one of them. Ignoring his raging erection and peppering Decimus’ tear-soaked face with kisses, he asks, somehow reverting to French, ‘You alright?’

Des wraps their limbs around him tightly. No, they admit through the interface, voice echoing directly in Lou’s head, but I want you in me. Please.

Oh, that he can do. ‘Who am I to deny that?’

Lou leans down to kiss his love deeply and filthily, making sure that his spit is on every single tiny little sensor on the android’s tongue while he spreads their legs even further apart and pushes in. Des’ lips tears away in a wail, and, knowing what the android wants through their connection, he doesn’t wait before nearly pulling out completely and slams back home, setting a brutal pace that coaxes all kinds of sounds and reactions from them, a high-pitched, static-laced whine here, a crackle of blue there lighting up the entire bedroom and reflecting off their exposed chassis. He finds the bundle of sensors within him and rams into it again and again, and the screams of pleasure-pain that tears themselves from Des’ voice box are stronger than any aphrodisiac, encouraging him to go on and to take whatever he needs - Decimus is here to give.

A soft brush of his hand against Des’ cock is enough to wring another orgasm out of the android. Once thought to be impossible, their entrance got slicker, lubricant flowing freely out from both ends, and the tightening of wet, hot muscles around him sends Lou spilling inside them. He collapses in a sweaty mess on top of the android, and Decimus, so utterly wrecked, can’t stop trembling and crying from oversensitivity and their overwhelming emotions, their arms still wrapped tightly around Lou’d broad shoulders like a shipwreck survivor clinging to a piece of driftwood.

They have to stop holding their boyfriend for a while after Lou catches his breath and gets up to get some wet towels from the bathroom. After wiping most of the fluids on their bodies away (the amount of slick never ceases to make Decimus blush), the human also removes the soiled blankets and sheets and pillows from the fort and tosses them into the washing machine, allowing them to sleep on clean linen without doing something drastic such as stripping the bed entirely.

When he emerges still completely nude from the shower, he isn’t surprised that Decimus hasn’t reactivated all their skin yet. He also isn’t surprised that the android winds themself around him like an affectionate octopus, and in this proximity, he finally notices the slight dent in the chassis on Des’ forehead; when he tries to touch it, they bury their face in the crook of Lou’s neck, essentially disallowing the human a second look on what he guesses is a scar.

Both of them are asleep before Lou can think of its implications.

[ardenskyedarcy221b]

from our family to yours

read on AO3

for @hailing-stars​ and @ciaconnaa​ for their unending support of me. love you 3000 besties!

“I come bearing presents!” shouts Peter, stepping through the front door of the cabin he calls his second home, juggling his backpack and several Target bags. “Who missed me?”

“Petey!” his little sister’s ear-splitting screech precedes tiny feet stomping down the stairs as if she were an entire stampede before he has two feet inside and the door shut behind him. 

Peter hauls himself fully through the threshold, makes sure the glass door latches, quickly deposits his belongings on the ground. He braces himself. 

It doesn’t take Morgan long to launch herself at his knees. 

Peter catches her easily, swinging her around and pulling melodious giggles as a result, until Morgan’s arms wind around his neck and she knees his side as she locks her legs around his waist. He beams at her. 

Her eyes squint with the force of her smile. “Missed you,” she mumbles once she burrows into his neck. “Don’t like it when you leave me.”

“Mmm, I missed you, Mo-kitty.” 

Morgan yanks away, brows furrowed and looking like a dark-headed version of her mother, and professes, “I’m not a kitty, Pete!”

Peter’s laughter mingles with Tony’s, who Peter glances up to see pushing himself up and off the sofa and sporting a wide grin. 

“I could have sworn you were a cat! You act just like one.”

“I do not,” she says with all the seriousness of a professional attorney, though the uptick lips ruins the aura. “I’m a princess who slays dragons.”

“Woah ho! Well excuse me.” 

“You’re excused.” 

Tony snorts as he tugs on Peter’s shoulder so he can pull the teenager into his chest, squeezing him tightly first then planting a kiss on his temple. 

“No, Daddy! Pete’s here to see me.”

Tony’s wide gaze finds and holds Peter’s as they share a moment of commiseration. Then Tony winks. 

“Are you a kidnapper?” he asks his daughter, tugging once on her ponytail. 

“What?”

“I asked if you’re a kidnapper.”

“I’m not!”

“So you can’t keep Pete from me. Otherwise that would make you a kidnapper.”

Peter snorts once. 

“Daddy,” she drags out the final vowel, head lolling backwards and dramatically rolling her eyes. “I asked Petey to come, not you.”

“And yet, you’re both in my house.”

“Actually, it’s Mommy’s house sooo,” she ends her sentence with a shrug. 

Peter tucks the feisty five year old under his chin and attempts to hold in his belly laughs. Morgan fights it at first, though she’s quick to act like a spider-monkey and cling to him if it’ll mean she has all the claim to him. 

Tony rolls his eyes. 

“What’s in the bags, Petey?”

“Ah-ha! No treats before lunch! You can do whatever you two wanna do after you eat.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Um, excuse you, little miss; I’m the cool parent, what kind of nonsense are you saying?”

“Petey agrees with me.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Ouch. Taken out by both of my kids.” sniffs Tony. “You’re lucky I already made sandwiches and brought out those blueberry bites Mom made; otherwise, I’d say no lunch.” 

Peter rolls his eyes and sets off for the kitchen. “You’re all talk, old man.” 

“Hey now,” protests Tony, “there’s no need for that kinda behavior in front of your impressionable sister. She repeats everything she hears.”

“All talk, old man,” parrots Morgan as she pulls away from Peter’s chin, grin wide and mischievous and not bothering to hide her giggling amusement, batting her eyelashes at her father, though Tony doesn’t see her. “Mommy says same thing.”

Peter imagines Tony rolls his eyes as he leads them into the kitchen. He feels the magnitude of it. 

As Tony veers toward the island where there is a smorgasbord of food, Peter steers toward the kitchen table and tries depositing Morgan in her designated seat. Only the little girl is doing a great impression of having sticky powers and Morgan stays attached to his waist and neck. 

“Can I sit with you?” 

Peter raises his eyes at her. 

Her lower lip juts out into the beginning of an impressive pout. 

Peter sighs. 

Morgan beams. 

Peter pulls out his own designated chair with all the drama required to get his sister in a fit of continuous giggles until she snorts and they plop down. Morgan makes herself comfortable, twisting on his lap until she can smile up at him. If Pepper were home, Morgan would sit in her seat; but because she’s on a plane home from Beijing, Tony explains, and both Tony and Peter have an extremely difficult time telling the little girl no, Morgan gets what she wants. 

Tony doesn’t even blink when he comes over with plates: simply sets two on one placemat and heads back for his own. 

Morgan grabs her sandwich and bites into the middle. 

“Will you tell me a story?”

Peter eats around her, hoping he doesn’t drop crumbs in her hair. “What, like right now?”

Her expression is the equivalent of a duh noise and Peter bops her nose for it. 

“Once upon a time, both my kids ate their lunch quietly. The end.” 

“Daddy!” 

“You asked for a story; I gave you a story,” comes the cheeky reply from Tony as he finally pulls out his seat at the kitchen table. 

Morgan glares at him. “I asked Petey for a story,” she emphasizes the name. 

Peter cuts in before Tony aggravates Morgan so much she ends up in tears of frustration. (He knows from experience that this time of the day is notorious for meltdowns; Morgan thinks she has outgrown naps, but her behavior has the tendency to disagree with the little girl.) “Do you want a real story or pretend one?” 

Morgan tilts her chin in the air, eyes squinting close as she thinks. As her eyes pop open she cries, “A Spider-Man story!” 

Tony groans. 

Peter grins. “Did I tell you how Spidey accidentally let an animal loose at the zoo?”

Brown eyes nearly eclipse his sister’s face as they widen at his words. “You what?” 

Her words are echoed by her father, though the baritone isn’t a tone of wonder but one of exasperation. 

Yeah, maybe Peter shouldn’t have told this story at the table since he spent all week making sure Tony didn’t hear about it. Well, the last thirty-six hours. Same thing. There went his longest record of keeping a secret that wasn’t his secret identity. Oh well, best get on with it then. 

“So Spidey is at the zoo, right? And he’s helping a little girl just a little bit older than you, Mo, find her way back to her parents. She said they were supposed to be at the penguins exhibit.”

“Oooh, I love penguins!!” 

“I know you do; that’s what I told the little girl that my baby sister loooooves them.” 

Morgan’s smile turned into a wide, pleased grin. “So what happened next?”

“Is this really a story you should be telling her?” interjects a wary Tony, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“All my stories have a moral to them.” 

“Doesn’t answer my question.”

“Yes, I need to tell this story. There’s valuable life lessons to be learned today,” Peter finishes with a firm nod, shifting his attention back to Morgan and flashes her a wide smile. Her giggles are hidden behind her hand she slaps to her mouth, and Peter huffs out a snort of laughter. “SO, back to what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted—”

“—I’ll ground you—”

“No you won’t.” 

“Mommy says you’re all talk, Daddy.”

Tony groans, long and loud and dramatic, head tipping back until it plonks against the back of his chair. 

Peter carries on, “I may have accidentally let loose a penguin or two.” 

“Oh no!”

“You WHAT?!” 

“Stop interrupting me,” says Peter, flapping his hand in Tony’s general direction, not daring to meet what will surely be steely brown eyes, and continues, “but it’s okay! I’m Spider-Man. I took care of it.”

“Petey!” squeals Morgan, “what happened?!” 

“So there may have been an incident where everyone wanted Spidey to feed the penguins and for future reference I am not able to stick to ice and reinforced glass is nothing against a clumsy superhero.” 

Tony makes a high pitched noise as Morgan titters in amusement. 

“Have you ever tried to catch a runaway penguin before, Mo?” Peter asks with all the levels of seriousness he can muster, which isn’t very much.

“No,” she shakes her head. “I have tried to catch Gerald when he escapes his pen! He ran out of his fence one time on Daddy though; it was pretty funny.” 

“Funny for everyone but him, I’d imagine. So, I’m running after a penguin—“

“Why didn’t you use your webs?”

Peter makes a face. “Apparently there are surfaces I cannot stick and the same goes toward my webs? I guess. I dunno. You’re such a smarter cookie than I am, Mo; because I didn’t think it through.”

Tony snorts, “He finally admits it.” 

“This is the important bit!” whines Peter with an over-exaggerated tone. “She needs to learn the moral of the story.” 

“What’s a moral?”

“Well,” starts Peter, “I guess it’s kinda like lesson learned from a story, between what’s right and what’s wrong. Does that make sense?”

At first Morgan nods and Peter believes he explained it well enough for his little sister. Until she shrugs on top of the nodding movement and Peter bites back a groan. Tony was just telling him over the phone at the beginning of the week Morgan had picked up a new habit: Peter didn’t believe him, though he isn’t sure why. Now he understands how frustrating it is to see the little girl acting willfully oblivious. The glint in her eye says it all: Morgan thinks she’s being funny if she acts oblivious. Peter hopes it isn’t a long habit. 

The little girl opens her mouth to speak but Peter cuts her off. 

“Okay, moral of the story always fix your mistakes. Make sense?”

“Yep!”

Tony rolls his eyes, not bothering to hid his wide smirk as he says, “Alright, finish eating.”

Morgan takes another large bite. 

Peter leans across the tabletop and stage-whispers to Morgan, “Maybe next time I’ll tell you about my shark tank adventures.”

Tony barks, “Absolutely not!”

Peter sputters out a cackle while Morgan snickers behind her hand. 

Rest of lunch passes uneventfully. 

Until it’s time for Morgan’s nap and Peter can’t say no to telling his little sister a story and gets dragged upstairs and he finds himself cramped on a twin bed with said little sister wedged up against him, looking up at him and awaiting a new story with all the patience of an expectant five year old. 

“Tell me a story.” 

“Once upon a time, Morgan had to take a nap but she couldn’t stop talking so her heroic big brother Peter hypnotized her and she still didn’t go to sleep because she is sooo stubborn.” 

Morgan’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Tell me a different story.” 

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Morgan—“

“No, she can’t have my name!”

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Rosie—“

“Nooo, I don’t wanna hear a story about a little girl.”

“Once upon a time, there was a little boy named José and he loved to ride his bike. His bike was red and blue after his favorite superhero and he loved riding it every single day. What happens next?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?” asks Peter, shifting around to stare down at the stubborn child practically glued at his side. “You’re a great storyteller!”

Morgan makes a face. 

“Tell me what happens next; I forget.” 

And so the next forty-five minutes go until Morgan falls asleep. 

It takes three minutes more for Peter to feel comfortable enough to slip out from Morgan’s hold and tiptoe out of her bedroom. 

“I’m surprised she fell asleep,” is his greeting from Tony once Peter crests the bottom step. 

Peter doesn’t reply until he plops down next to his mentor and snuggles into the older man’s side, “She really loves her stories.” 

“That she does.” nods Tony, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder and tugging him closer into his side. “What goodies did you bring this time?”

“Pajamas.” 

“Oh, boy.”

And they leave the conversation untouched after that eloquent reply. 

Television remains turned off, though FRIDAY provides holiday music as gentle white noise, as Tony and Peter catch up. Peter admits he’s ready for his midterms despite feeling overly prepared and stressed from the mounting work. 

“I’m proud of you, Pete.” the words are strong, sure, and are spoken with the warmth of a parent unleashing his tenderness freely upon his child. “You never cease amazing me. To have you in my life is one incredible thing; but the fact Morgan gets to grow up with you as her older brother... I’m one lucky dad to have two extraordinary children. No matter what you two become, continue to become.”

A soft smile unfurls as the teenager settles more firmly against a shoulder and chest, closing his eyes at the bubbling emotions stirring inside him. Peace. Harmony. Belonging. All things he has struggled tremendously over since his return, and Tony’s lengthy recovery; flighty feelings he now tries his damnedest to relish whenever they appear. More frequently, and not taken for granted. 

Of course the peace is always broken when a five year old is underfoot. Morgan sleeps all of ninety minutes, at most, before she’s zooming downstairs and climbing over the back of the couch to nestle between her brother and father. 

“Presents!!” she screeches directly into Peter’s ear canal. “Petey, please!?”

Peter blinks away the fuzzy-ringing sensation. 

“Morgan, you know better than to scream in Peter’s ears.” starts Tony. 

Wide eyes grow larger, comically on such a cherubic face, as the five year old professes, “I’m just excited.” at her father’s raised eyebrows she tacks on, “Sorry, Petey.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “S’alright, Mo-kitty.”

She pouts, curling down her lower lip, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Well, you know where his stuff’s at, Morgan.” Tony says after a beat of his daughter’s prolonged dramatics. 

Morgan shifts as if to jump off Peter’s lap and Peter lifts her with enhanced deftness, keeping her from kicking or elbowing him or Tony in her quest to track down goodies, and Peter sets her on her feet. Morgan pays no attention to how she’s on the ground. She shuffle-sprints toward the front door and dives right into the Target bags. 

“Oooh, jammies! Daddy!” she crows. 

Tony pokes Peter in the side. 

Peter yelps, immensely ticklish in that spot. He jumps up and away from his mentor, turning to scrunch up his face at the other man, before trotting over to assist Morgan. 

If anyone says Peter went overboard on their family pajamas, he’ll just point to Tony and say the man’s never taught him control. Peter is stoked about them and honestly he wants them out of their bags quick so Morgan can amp up his excitement. 

Morgan pulls out Peter’s pjs first and Peter is quick to explain the white blob, 

“It’s a unicorn, Mo.” 

“Oh!” she hands it to him. 

Peter shakes it out and holds it up against his body, making certain that the hood is situated enough for Morgan to see the attached horn. 

“A unicorn?” questions Tony from behind. 

“Oh, just you wait,” smirks Peter and notions for Morgan to dig into the same bag. “I almost got us matching pjs because I liked yours so much.” he tosses his unicorn footless pajamas onto the couch and turns back to see Morgan pulling out a colorful creation, directing at her, “Do you know what that is?” 

She makes a weird noise at the back of her throat, like she wants to scream and speak at the same time. Then she professes, “It’s a DRAGON!”

“She’s the slayer of dragons.” whines Tony. 

“Exactly!” Peter preens with a little wiggle of excitement. “Look, it even has a tail!”

“Pete!”

“Yeah, Mo?”

“Am I gonna be a princess?”

“No. I hope I picked out something better for you. Go ahead and see, in that last bag.” he encourage,. 

Morgan digs into the next bag and positively shrieks. “It’s a mermaid!”

Peter had settled on mermaid pajamas for Morgan simply because her favorite color is blue and Peter was a fan of the tail’s design. And the children’s section didn’t have as much to choose from in the variety Peter wanted. Needs must, and all that jazz. 

“Let’s put them on NOW!!!”

“Morguna—“

“Mo—“

“NOW!”

Since both are pushovers, Morgan gets what she wants, though it may have something to do with the fact Morgan immediately started tugging her sweater over her head. 

Ten minutes later they were all bundled up in their footless pajamas (footies in Morgan’s case), hot chocolates in hand, and sitting on the couch bickering over what holiday movie to watch. 

Morgan wins with the newest Pixar classic. 

They’re halfway through the second movie, though there’s more singing and jumping around the living room than sitting and enjoying the movie, when Pepper wonders into the house. There is too much chaos for Pepper’s entrance to steal away anyone’s attention. Volume from the movie is up higher than usual; and even then Morgan and Peter’s singing is heard clearly. Tony is roped into singing the choruses. 

So of course the first thing Pepper says is, 

“Why’d you start chaotic Christmas without me?”

“MOMMY!” shrieks Morgan, jumping onto the couch so she can scurry up the back and throw herself into her mother’s arms. 

Pepper catches Morgan, juggling her around until the child is situated at her hip. “What new outfit do you have on; Mommy’s never seen it before.”

“Petey got it for me, see! I’m a mermaid.” 

“And it’s blue! How nice of him.”

Peter grins big over at Pepper and she laughs upon seeing his own getup. 

“He got one for Daddy, too!” continues on Morgan, patting her mother’s cheeks for her full attention. “Daddy’s a dragon! And I’m the dragon slayer!”

“Oh, poor Daddy.” 

Tony stretches over the couch’s back, pouting identically to his daughter’s infamous expression. “Yeah, poor Daddy. He’s been stuck at home with two rowdy heathens! He’s a withering dragon.”

Peter snorts, “Quick, someone give him hugs and kisses!” 

Morgan wraps her arms around Pepper’s neck and proceeds to offer a kiss to her mother’s cheek. 

Tony scoffs, smile blossoming despite the faux-hurt expression. 

Pepper’s head tosses back, laughter shaking her frame. 

Peter drops down next to Tony, resting his head against Tony’s shoulder. “Hi.” 

“Oh, look! Someone has come to love on the poor, withering away dragon!” croons Tony, wrapping both arms around Peter until he’s snug in his embrace. “A unicorn’s love is the purest of them all.” 

Peter snorts loudly at that proclamation. 

Morgan cackles madly at the noise, for whatever reason she is always overcome with immense pleasure whenever anyone snorts in laughter. “He sounds like a pig.” she whisper-shouts at Pepper.

“Kinda weird for a unicorn!” comes Peppers reply.

At the reminder of their pajamas, Morgan whips around and says, “Hey! Daddy, you can’t snuggle my unicorn!! He’s mine!” and then she promptly attempts throwing herself out of Pepper’s arm and onto the couch. 

Pepper doesn’t let her go. 

Tony begins raining kisses down on Peter. 

For his part, Peter pretends to squirm away, hoping to rile up his sister

Morgan falls for it: immediately squawking and wiggling away from her mother in an attempt to attack her father. After a few moments, Pepper allows Morgan to climb onto the couch and she latches onto her dad’s prosthetic arm. 

“Noo, Daddy, Petey’s my unicorn!”

“I knew him first; he’s mine.”

Pepper barks out a surprised, “Tony!”

Tony and Morgan squabble over who Peter belongs to for several loud moments. Peter laughs hysterically between the both of them. Pepper wonders up behind the couch and combs her fingers through Peter’s hair and says, 

“What if I claimed Peter as my own?”

Tony gasps. 

Morgan squeals, “Can’t! He’s mine!”

Peter tugs Morgan into his lap. “Oh yeah? And what if I said I’m my own man?”

Morgan’s brows furrow at that proclamation. 

Tony, thankfully, switches the conversation, “Hey, Mo? Why don’t you ask Mom to put on her special jammies at the back of our closet?”

Pepper backs away from the couch. “No way.” she says with all the dignity of a composed CEO not afraid of anything, shaking her head and swishing around her ponytail. “You promised you’d never bring it up again!”

Peter bites his lip, “I didn’t get Pepper pjs because you said on Monday she wouldn’t be back until next week!”

Tony shushes him, “It’s okay. I did say that. But Pep has a black cat footie pajama set in our room that she loves to wear.” 

Peter turns around to stare incredulously at Pepper, “You do?!”

Pepper mouths at her husband, “I hate you,” before turning her attention to Peter, “I do. I’ll be back; give me ten minutes.” and she trudges up the staircase. 

Morgan and Peter share a commemorating look of victory. 

Tony claps his hands. “Finally! I’ve been wanting to do a family portrait forever!”

Peter throws his head back with laughter, “You seriously wanna do family pictures in pjs?”

“When have I ever been conventional?”

“Fair.” 

Morgan jumps out of Peter’s lap and begins bouncing on the cushions once more. “We need to start the movie over! We missed ten whole minutes!”

“We can rewind it,” her father soothes. 

“Nope,” she shakes her head, “gotta start it allllll over. I said so.” 

“And your word is law?”

Morgan nods. 

Tony sweeps her into his arm, to the tune of Morgan shrieking, and says between kisses, “How about I think about it while you clean up your mess? I want our picture taken in front of the fireplace.”

Morgan glances that way and pulls a scrunched up face. “Do I gotta?”

Peter stands up and offers the little girl his hand, “I’ll help.”

So Peter and Morgan clean up. 

Pepper comes back down, decked out in her black cat pajamas. Peter retrains from commenting on her, admittedly awesome, ensemble. Tony, on the other hand, immediately begins flirting with his wife as Morgan and Peter finish their task. 

After a few moments, Pepper puts an end of Tony’s comments by directing them all in front of the fireplace. 

“One serious and the rest are silly,” Tony says as his sits in the middle, pulling Peter onto his left side. “Think you can manage all that, FRI?”

“Well within my purviews, boss; I am more than capable of taking family portraits.”

“Excellent! Morgan, you sit with Mom, alright?”

“Yes!”

“Say goofball on the count of three,” FRIDAY directs and begins counting down. 

“Goofball!” echoes four voices. 

Tony puts the serious picture up on the company website. And if May ends up being bombarded with several silly pictures ten minutes later, well, Tony and Peter both know she won’t mind. 

[pippytmi]

listen, i KNOW SC + “aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?” is so deeply expectable of a choice but. that.

Every year Kara and her neighbors have a Halloween-off. Which, really, is not so much a “who can decorate the best” competition as much as it is a “how can we annoy stick-in-the-mud Cat Grant” competition.

This year Kara is sure she and Alex have the best house. Not only is it uber-scary, but they have the most intricate jack-o-lanterns on the block. Kara is particularly proud of the pumpkin sporting a whole dragon—Winn gave it a thumbs up when Kara texted him the picture. Winn does not partake in the Halloween festivities because he’s a scaredy-cat, but he is always their house’s #1 supporter.

Tonight Kara has prepared all the stops. They have two big bags of candy, candles that will last all night, and a realistic zombie animatronic that crawls two feet (Brainy’s work, but he'd conceded this design because he has opted for a skeleton theme this year). The Danvers house is absolutely perfect.

Unfortunately, they have overlooked one teeny-tiny problem: their house is not kid-friendly.

No one seems to want to approach the whole block, actually. All houses on the cul-de-sac are decked out in their creepiest (minus Cat’s, which only has a large “no candy” sign plastered on its gate). The few kids who have braved trick-or-treating tonight are all high school age, and even then some of them are shaking when Kara distributes candy bars.

“I think it’s the zombie,” Winn offers, unhelpfully. “Maybe you should’ve gone with a black cat theme. Kids love cats.”

Alex snatches a pack of gummy worms out of Winn’s hand. “Winn, go home,” she says, “and stop eating all our candy.”

“I can’t! You know Nia lives right next door. Her house has clowns.”

“Perfect, you’ll fit right in.”

As a sputtering Winn tries to defend himself, the doorbell rings; Kara takes it upon herself to answer it. Not that she’s keeping count, but—this is only the fourth time the doorbell’s rung in two hours, and she is severely missing the thrill of seeing kids race down the block in their polyester costumes.

So as she prepares her best friendly smile (and the overflowing candy bowl), she is secretly hoping this means the turnaround of her night. But when she opens the door, she’s disappointed to see again that there are no children on her porch.

In fact, the person waiting on her doorstep isn’t even high school age. A woman—a woman who is probably Kara’s age—is on the other side, wearing a lab coat with its sleeves rolled haphazardly up to her elbows.

Kara gapes at her for a moment. “Aren’t you a little old to be trick or treating?” her mouth asks before her brain catches up.

The stranger quirks an eyebrow. “Yes,” she says plainly. She has a sparkly pumpkin temporary tattoo on her cheek that looks like it’s been hastily applied, and her hand reaches up to brush at it before she yanks it away, as if just remembering it’s there.

Something about this woman, this stranger who looks exhausted and keeps brushing flyaway dark hairs from her messy ponytail away from her forehead, gives Kara pause. She’s not quite sure what it is, though.

“I didn’t mean that to be like—accusing,” Kara says quickly. Then, to make up for it, she adds: “I-I really like your costume.”

The woman frowns, confused. “I’m not wearing a costume,” she says, but when Kara gestures questioningly at the lab coat she goes, “Oh. This is actually not a costume. I came from a class.”

Kara perks up slightly. “Really? Wait, do you go to National City University?”

“Yes, actually. How did you guess?”

“I go there! I thought you looked familiar,” Kara says. “So...you must be a science major.”

“Chemistry,” the woman affirms, smiling just the slightest—a smile that does not show teeth, but is sweet nonetheless. “What’s your major?”

“Journalism!” Kara shifts the candy bowl to one arm in order to offer her hand. “I’m Kara, by the way.”

“Hi, I’m Lena.” Lena shakes Kara’s hand, smile morphing into an amused kind of half-laugh, half-grin.

Before Kara can keep the conversation going, a few gangly boys on skateboards come screeching down the block; something about the sound must remind Lena of why she’s here, because she suddenly digs through her coat pockets to produce a small paper bag.

“I’m sorry, I meant to ask—can I take some candy for my niece? I’m supposed to take her trick or treating, but she’s terrified to leave the car. Your zombie scares her.”

“So you’re…you’re not trick of treating for yourself. Right. That, that makes a lot of sense,” Kara says slowly. “I’m sorry I assumed you were! Honestly, I would go trick or treating now. At my age. I don’t have anything against people who trick or treat when they’re in their twenties.” A beat. “And you didn’t ask all that. Uh, yeah, of course, take our candy!”

And in Kara’s haste to make up for her mistake, she…accidentally offers the whole bowl.

Lena blinks. “All of it?”

“...yep. That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Kara says. Privately, she wishes a real life zombie could emerge from the woods and take her out of her misery.

“Okay, well, thank you.” Lena hesitantly takes the bowl in her hands, awkwardly hugging it to her chest. “Sorry, I forgot to mention that your animatronic is very impressive. What kind of hydraulic system did you implement?”

“I don’t—know? My friend designed it, and my sister built it, so…I’m not sure.”

“It’s really good, but it could be improved somewhat,” Lena says. “Maybe next year I can help you fix it.” She takes a step back, a mysterious kind of shy half-smile lingering on her mouth. “If you’re interested, of course.”

“Y-yeah! That would be awesome,” Kara says, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

This time when Lena beams it’s softer, flashing enough hint of teeth to show off a dimple in her left cheek. “Then I guess I’ll see you around, Kara,” she says.

“Bye,” Kara says weakly, this time her voice coming out dreamier than necessary. She doesn’t even realize she’s been staring off into the night (or more accurately, in the direction Lena has disappeared), until Alex comes up beside her.

“Hey, where’d all the candy go?” Alex asks.

Kara glances at her in mild surprise. “Oh. That,” she says. “It was…raccoons.”

“Raccoons?”

“Yup. Beautiful raccoons,” Kara says, and Alex gives her a weird look.

“I think that’s enough sugar for you,” she decides. “Go check out the zombie, will you? Just to make sure it’s still working. Brainy said to keep an eye out.”

(When Kara does as she’s asked, she is thrilled to see a paper bag tied to the zombie’s arm—Lena’s paper bag, now adorned with Lena’s phone number.)

[dapper-ships-herself]

22 w/ whichever f/o you’d like? :O

So um, this got long and also it’s late so I haven’t really checked it for spelling and grammar errors or anything like that.

Also, I couldn’t decide if it should be Dazai or I doing the comforting, so the reason it’s so long is because I wrote both.

Both are with ADA! Gillian, second one takes place before we actually start dating.

22. Comforting each other after a nightmare.

---

Cornered.

To the right, to the left, and at their backs, towered dark walls that rose high into the murky sky. Before them, a hoard of men in suits stalked forward, their faces constantly shifting masks of horror.

She did her best to use every inch of her tiny body to stand tall in front of the one she had to protect, the little girl shivering and cowering behind her.

The man at the front of the hoard smiled, his mouth cracking his face as it spread from ear to ear, putting on display his shinning white fangs. “Are you the one we’re looking for?” His voice over lapped itself, a mockery of speech.

“Yes.” She bravely spoke the words that damned her.

Was it possible for it’s smile to deepen even further? “Then the other one is useless.” The forms of the other men behind him began to drip and mix together, forming a black, oozing mass of many eyes that bored down at her. The next sound nearly deafened her, the echoing bang of a fired gun, and then she was kneeing on the ground over the cold form of the little girl who’d meant more to her than anything. Blood coated her arms, it covered her face, it dripped down the walls and onto her from above, the monstrosity covering her in crimson tears. Her hands shook and it laughed. The only warmth she felt was from the blood on her hands.

She hadn’t fired the gun, but she’d killed her with her words.

Fire bubbled and built within her. It filled her like lava and she was merely it’s vessel, and when the man’s clawed hand closed around her upper arm, she erupted.

Her scream ripped apart everything around her, shattering reality and turning it to dust. Her throat burned. There was nothing but her rage and sorrow, and then that was gone too, but she was still screaming.

“Gillian.”

Her eyes flew open with a jot, and her hands snapped up to grasp whatever it was hovering above her, her nails involuntarily digging into it. That was when she realized it was saying her name in a soft, insistent voice, and that it wasn’t an it but a who.

Her racing mind slowly allowed her gaze to focus on Dazai. He’d propped himself up in the bed so that she was caged between his arms, his right hand closed around her shoulder. He looked down at her, concern in his eyes. She gasped for breath, and only realized she was crying when she noticed how wet her cheeks were.

His eyes softened to understanding, and it only took one word from him for her to know he knew exactly what she’d been dreaming about. “Ume?”

She sobbed upon hearing her sister’s name spoken out loud.

Dazai pulled Gillian up into a sitting position, holding her tightly to his chest as her buried one hand in her hair and the other rubbed against her back. He let her sob into his shirt, and she held him with the desperation of a drowning woman.

“It was my fault.” She whimpered. Her voice was hoarse, and were normally her ability would mask any fatigue or crack in her voice and make it melodious no matter what, Dazai’s cancellation ability left her no room for hiding, and every inch of her sorrow seeped out in the rawness of her words.

“You know that’s not true.” He whispered against her hair. His low voice burrowed into her, caressing her in the same way his hands did. Still, her sobs continued.

“All I wanted… All I wanted was to save her. I thought that they’d take me and leave her be, I never meant for them to… to…”

Dazai shushed her, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “I know. You tried. You tried to save her.”

“I was her big sister; I was supposed to do more than try. I was supposed to protect her.”

He squeezed Gillian tighter, letting her curl her body into his. He did his best to wrap around her and become her shield against the world, even though he knew he couldn’t protect her from her own memories. They sat there for a while, him whispering calming words to her, and slowly her breathing steadied and her tears became a mere trickle. Even when the tears stopped, and she was exhausted back into sleep, he continued to hold her and whisper his sweet words.

---------

He was drowning.

He was falling.

It was dark.

The light burned his eyes.

He couldn’t breathe.

His breathing was rapid and desperate and he choked on the air.

Hands grabbed his skin and tore into the flesh, ripped at his hair, and clawed for his eyes. One hand grabbed the side of his face and fell away.

Dazai gasped, and his hands fisted into his sheets. He panted, and waited for his body to calm. The nightmares weren’t new.

He knew how to calm himself after them, how long to wait before he could take even breaths in the night air again. This time, though, he found his hands still shook minutes after he awoke. Guess this nightmare shook him more than most.

He sat up, running a trembling hand through his hair. He reached out to his side and picked up his phone, checking the time to see it was still the middle of the night. He sighed, knowing he’d likely not be getting any more sleep tonight.

Idly, he moved the phone between his hands and his thoughts wandered, and he found them moving in the direction away from the horrors of his past to much more recent memories that soothed his soul like a balm. He thought of the way her smile brightened her face, he heard the sound of her laughter and saw her eyes shine with joy when she caught his gaze. Earlier that day, he’d felt her dainty hands grasp one of his in excitement. It was a strange thought, but he found himself wishing he could feel that touch again, rounding him and settling the trembling he still felt.

Dazai considered himself to be a man in control of his every action, he did nothing without explicitly meaning to do so, so the sound of his own phone dialing surprised him. The name of the exact girl who’d been occupying his thoughts written across the screen: Gillian.

He almost hung up, when she answered. Her voice, still half asleep, floated through the speaker. “Hello?”

Well, he’d have to go along with the whims of his unconscious actions now. “And a lovely good morning to you~” he chirped “Though I suppose it’s still too early to be called morning.”

“Dazai,” she yawned, muffled to where he assumed she’d turned her face from the phone “you know I’m always happy to hear from you, but it’s a bit unusual for you to be calling so late. Is something going on, do you need anything?”

“Ah, I must apologize, it seems I accidentally dialed you in my sleep! I only woke up and noticed a moment before you answered.”

She was quiet for a minute, and he briefly wondered if she’s already fallen back asleep, when she spoke again “Yeah, okay so that’s a lie.”

“Oh? What makes you think that?” He’d assumed that even if she did see past the tone of his voice, she’d be too tired to examine it.

“First off, you’re much too awake to have only woken up a minute ago. Second, I can feel your negative emotions from my apartment; something scared you.”

“Isn’t the empathy aspect of your ability too minor to sense emotions from a distance? Maybe you’re mistaking me for Yosano, perhaps you should go to her room and check on her.”

“Hm, nope. It’s only an impression, but I know it’s you. What happened?”

He sighed into the phone, exaggerating the sound. “Oh, you’ve caught me, I had a frightful dream is all and in my flailing that’s when I accidentally called you. Embarrassing, I know! But, I assure you I’m perfectly fine, the dream was actually rather silly now that I think about it. See, I was being chased by a giant spoon, and it-“ Dazai paused in his tale, picking up the sound of something rusting and moving about from Gillian’s otherwise quiet side of the call. “Wat are you doing?”

“Putting my shoes on.” She answered simply.

“Why?”

“Because I’m heading over to your place.”

His spine straightened at that, eyes widening slightly. “Ah, there’s really no need-“

“Already outside,” She interrupted him “and it’s chilly so you’d better answer your door when I knock! See you in a second~” She hung up the phone.

He lowered the phone from his ear and stared at it, and the fact that they lived in the same building meant her knock on his door came not even a minute later, not even giving him time to prepare for her arrival. He pushed the blanket off of his legs, figuring his best course of action would be to answer the door like she said, otherwise he knew she’d stay out there half the night, if not all night.

“Come on in.” He swept his arm out in a welcoming gesture as soon as he’d opened the door.

She grinned up at him, her arms wrapped around herself to ward off the cold, her pajamas hardly doing anything to help. “Thank you very much~” She nudged her shoes off and bounced past him, and he shut and relocked the door before following her back into the apartment.

All the lights were still off, so he could only use the little moonlight slipping in to see her curious eyes staring at him. “There was really no need for you to come here; I promise it was only a bad dream.”

She nodded “But dreams can still have a real effect on us, and I can tell whatever it was about is really sticking with you.”

“Because of your empathy?”

“Because I know you.” Her eyes searched deep into his “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”

“It-“ He found the words freezing in his throat. He couldn’t understand it, why was it so much harder to keep up his mask around her? Somehow her presence constantly managed to chip at the cracks and wiggle through. Part of him whispered how it wanted to simply relax and lower the mask, part of him hissed that it wanted to force her out of his home so as to not be forced to feel the searing intensity of those gentle eyes. “It’s nothing for you to worry about.” He managed to say.

Her eyes stayed the same, but she made a hum in the back of her throat. “Okay, I understand not wanting to talk about it.” She rocked on her heel for a minute and Dazai could practically see the thoughts working in her head. “Be honest, would you rather I leave now, go back to my own dorm, and leave you alone for the night?”

The response, merely a simple yes, please, was right on his tongue, but once again the words froze. Ah, this was almost frustrating. He swallowed, thick and audible in the quiet; and after a long stretch of silence, he finally spoke a true word. “Stay.” The vulnerability in his voice burned his throat.

She smiled, and the compassion and understanding in her eyes elicited an unfamiliar emotion within himself. “Then, will you let me help you fall back asleep for the night?”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“First, is it okay for me to enter your room?”

He blinked, and again the voice inside him wanted to deny her, but there was curiosity now too, so he nodded, and she beckoned him to follow her.

Perhaps in any other situation, allowing a woman into his room so late at night would hold a different connotation, but with her it was only ever innocence.

He watched Gillian approach his bed, and she then she sat on it, kneeling, and patted her lap with a smile. “Lay down.” She said.

… “Huh?”

“I said, lay down; this is how I’m going to help you sleep.” She titled her head, nothing but pure intentions coming from her. He thought about turning this into some sort of joke, making a sly comment on the suggestive nature of the situation, but he was too tired for that now.

So, he figured to hell with it, and walked over to the bed. Dazai lay down, positioning himself so his head nestled onto Gillian’s legs. As soon as he was settled, her hands found their way into his hair, petting and smoothing the strands in a calm, repetitive motion. “There we go, you can relax now.” She said, her voice soft and soothing. “I know you must’ve been scared, but it’s all right now.”

Dazai knew his ability never failed him, but for once he idly wondered if perhaps it’d chosen now to stop working. After all, if Gillian wasn’t using Silver Tongued Maiden to command his body into relaxing, then how was she doing this? How was she capable of bringing him such calm in such simple ways?

“You… I think I have you all figured out, and then you find new ways to confound me.”

She giggled, and the sound made him close his eyes so he could focus only on it and the warmth seeping into him from her body, the feeling of her hands working across his forehead. “I think I will take that as a compliment. Now shush, and relax. Rest, and I promise not even dreams will hurt you while I’m here.”

As he’d done so many times that night, he obeyed her. He felt almost like a child, finding comfort this way, but he also couldn’t be bothered to mind that. Not when it was Gillian doing the comforting.

So, he let her lull him to sleep that night, and even in his dreams, he felt her warmth.