#one needs some free brain space to joke around

[blood-orange-juice]

One thing I have to constantly stop myself from when writing Childe is giving him witty one-liners.

He doesn't do those. At all. He isn't witty. English translation added a bit of that but he really isn't. Also this guy finds the cocogoat joke funny.

[xinganhao]

🫂 older brother!mingyu vs. boyfriend!wonwoo.

anon → "could you please maybe do a text au of older brother! Mingyu and brother's best friend - and boyfriend - Wonwoo?"

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: cussing, sibling dynamics, wonwoo and mingyu are best friends! best read in order + headcanons under the cut.

🫂 the three times mingyu almost caught you (and the one time he did) .ᐟ

(1)

wonwoo likes to think he's a pretty rational guy. he follows rules. he does everything by the book. he treats people well, and he's a good friend. mingyu could attest. they've been best friends for years, after all. except— well, there might be one rule that wonwoo has bended just a teensy, tiny bit.

he's breaking it now as the two of you hold hands underneath the café table. you're doing your own thing with your free hand, but the other remains firmly grasped by wonwoo's. he never thought he'd be the clingy type, honestly. it just felt so out of character for somebody like him. and yet here he is, pouting ever so slightly whenever you try to pull away.

"i need to turn the page, baby," you say exasperatedly, gesturing to the book balanced precariously in front of you.

"i'll turn it for you," he says immediately, reaching out to do exactly that. "just let me know when you need me to."

"you're insane."

he pouts harder. you sigh.

minutes later, though, you're wrenching your hand away like wonwoo's touch has burned you. his whine of babyyy is on the tip of his tongue, but he chokes on the word when he sees the reason for your sudden distance: mingyu, bounding in to the café.

"there you are!" he cries to wonwoo. "watchu doin' with this bighead?"

you flip your older brother off. "tutoring," you say without missing a beat. "because unlike you, wonwoo has more than one functioning brain cell."

as the two of you bicker a bit more, wonwoo tries to rearrange his expression into something more neutral. it's all he can do to hide the way he's already missing the feeling of your fingers slotted in the spaces of his.

(2)

if somebody told a younger wonwoo that he would one day be using emoticons and emojis for someone, that younger wonwoo would've laughed his ass off. today's wonwoo can only hang his head in slight shame.

it came easily, but it also came in part because you used to ask 'are you mad at me? 🥺' when he would use his usual textspeak on you. wonwoo was more than happy to start adapting to your typing habits in a bid to ease your mind.

he's on safari, looking up the appropriate emoticon to send as a reaction to your latest selfie— he's torn between (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) and ヽ(♡‿♡)ノ, which may look the same, but he swears there are nuances— when he hears mingyu's amused voice mumble, "what the hell?"

"jesus christ!"

wonwoo's exclamation is paired with the most over-the-top reaction in the world: tossing his phone halfway across the room. mingyu doubles over in laughter as wonwoo glares up at his best friend, who'd been looking over his shoulder.

"yah, don't sneak up on me like that," wonwoo hisses, the tips of his ears going red.

"alright, mr. japanese kaomojis dot com," mingyu teases. he begins laughing harder at his own joke.

wonwoo smacks mingyu upside on the head before going to retrieve his phone. the screen protector has the ghost of a crack on it, but it's a small price to pay.

at least mingyu hadn't peeked the selfie of you making a kissy face for wonwoo.

(3)

"you should probably go soon," you say delicately, nudging wonwoo's head with the heel of your palm.

he lets out a low whine of protest. despite being significantly bigger than you, he's the one draped over you; his face buried in your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist.

the two of you are lounging on your living room couch. your parents— and your pesky older brother— all had plans elsewhere, giving you and wonwoo some freedom.

"you hate me," your boyfriend groans against the front of your shirt.

"they'll be here any minute."

"so i'll stay for thirty seconds more, then."

it's never just seconds more with wonwoo, but you've never been one to deny him. the thirty seconds spin in to three minutes, then seven, then—

the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway has wonwoo's head snapping up.

"shit," you both say at the same time.

wonwoo scrambles to disentangle from you. "is it—"

"mingyu," you confirm, having grown accustomed to the different sounds that would indicate who was coming home. your eyes are frantic as you wave wonwoo off. "go, go, go!"

he stumbles forward, then backward, like he's not sure where to go.

"my bedroom window!" you hiss, and wonwoo practically bolts up the stairs two steps at a time. just as he gets to the landing of the second floor, mingyu saunters in through the front door.

"were you talking to someone?" your brother asks.

"yeah," you say, schooling your reaction into one of nonchalance. "myself."

"get some help, weirdo."

"how about you—"

your biting retort is cut short by the distant sound of a distant crash. both you and mingyu look towards the general direction of the interruption.

"the hell?" mingyu grouses. you feel like your heart is in your throat as your brother heads for the front door to check.

a frazzled looking wonwoo is out on the porch.

"hey," wonwoo breathes to mingyu. "i, uh, came to see you. knocked over one of your pots while i was walking up, though."

mingyu's eyebrows raise. "why? forgot your glasses or something?"

your eyes catch on wonwoo's spectacles, resting at the foot of the couch. while mingyu's back is still turned, you grab them and shove them into your pocket.

"yeah, forgot 'em at home," wonwoo lies. he's not even looking at you as mingyu lets him in.

"you're in luck," a none the wiser mingyu says. "i literally just got home. otherwise, you would've needed to kill time with the world's biggest loser."

right, you think. like that isn't exactly what wonwoo had just been doing.

(4)

mingyu hadn't meant to find out. really. he was just going to be an annoying older brother— barge into your room, stand there for absolutely no reason, then leave the door open behind him. except when he goes to check, you're already asleep.

he notices that you've crashed atop your covers. that draws a derisive snort of laughter from him. "dumbass," he mumbles to himself. he's known you for all your life, and you're the type to complain about some phantom fever if you didn't have a blanket in your sleep.

he goes to pull your comforter over you, only to freeze midway.

your phone is angled at you, propped up against the wall. it seems like you'd fallen asleep on video call.

and, on the other end of the line is none other than wonwoo.

wonwoo is fast asleep, too. mingyu recognizes the other man's bedroom, sees the way that wonwoo is already dressed for bed. everything just seems to click, then. because everything else is excusable, negligible. but this? the intimacy of this, the sheer familiarity it entails?

mingyu feels like he's intruding. he probably is.

briefly, he considers screaming in your ear until both you and wonwoo are awake. he wants to see what kind of explanation the two of you can come up with on the spot. it'd be pretty funny, he thinks.

instead, he tucks your blanket over your shoulders, taking extra care to not wake you. he'll let you pretend for one more day, he decides with a slight shake of his head.

on his way out of your bedroom, mingyu closes the door for once.

[remotewatch]

make that mfer BAM 💥🥣

Jack Schlossberg x reader | 1k wc

Summary: Jack doubts his speechwriting skills. You tug that nonsense right out of him.

cws: emergency handjob, food play, cum eating, he cum in he got damn soup idk what else to tell ya !! dear readers please make sure you’re registered to vote and do try to get involved with the Harris campaign in any way you can (it’s what Jack would want, after all 😁)

hats off to my darling editor @mystardustmelodyyy as always 🩵🗳️

minors dni in fact don’t even glance at it

Light-footed staff weave around your path as you track the length of the house to check on tonight’s finishing touches. Your shoes clack against the mirror-polished foyer tile in time with the cadence of your speech repetition.

A text had just come in from your assistant: everyone was having a splendid time, they were on their way to your place now, and a smidge of traffic might push the start of dinner back, ten minutes at the most. Everything was falling into place, but you couldn’t turn down a free moment to go over your words one last time.

“As you all know, my grandparents were lifelong patrons of the arts… honored to present our new exhibition at my fiancé’s library… we thank you all for your generous…” you lose your train of thought when you spot Jack pacing frantically in an alcove, hands twitching as he stifles reflexive hang loose signs. He jolts at the hand you place on his shoulder and defaults to an uncharacteristically strained smile when he sees it’s you.

“How’s the rehearsal going?”

“Well, I think I hate it.” He bites a knuckle and squints exasperatedly at the tiny font on his phone. “There’s so many jokes in here. Why?!” Jack getting cold feet was the only thing you hadn’t planned for; usually he’s the one swooping in when you’re in such a state. There’s absolutely no time for rewrites, so you need to shut this shit down before he decides to start editing anyway. You squeeze his shoulder a little bit, and his head snaps up to see your most convincing faux-worried face.

“Can you help me with one thing real quick, and then we can get it sorted?”

That breaks him out of the fog long enough for you to drag him through the dining room and into the kitchen abuzz with steam and roving caterers.

A curt “Out!” scatters them, and then it’s just you two and the gentle hum of the convection ovens. You guide Jack over to where tonight’s soup is already plated, then to his bowl placed off to the side, accompanied by a post it stuck to the counter: “JS NO SWEET POTATO”.

He’s still lost in thought as you nudge him closer and move behind him.

“I already tasted it, it’s fine,” he mumbles as you start undoing his pants. His voice trails to a sigh when you take his cock out.

“You loved that speech all last week. What’s going on now?”

“I just-“ he doesn’t comment when you start stroking him, but you can feel the muscles in his back loosen slightly, and some of the tension leaks out of his voice. “I really want this to go well for us.”

Your unoccupied hand slides up his lapel and grasps his to stop the fumbling with his tie.

“It’s already going well, and we’re going to keep it that way.” His brow is still furrowed, but that cute little fuzzy edge his voice gets when you take control is seeping in.

“Won’t they be here soon?”

“Not for at least twenty minutes.” The slippery noises your movements make as he starts to leak echo off all the stainless steel and sound almost amplified in the empty space. It’s just warm enough in the kitchen for your brain to flirt with the idea of calling the whole thing off and spending the night here. “Don’t worry. I won’t let the clock run out on you.”

You can feel his grip on his doubts loosening with every deliberate stroke, and soon he’s bucking into your hand as much as the space between you and the counter will let him.

Jack’s posture sags as he relaxes against you, the sudden movement nearly bobbing him close enough to dip his tip into the soup.

“Keep moving around like that and you’ll burn yourself.”

“Sorry.” He sounds a million miles away from the ball of nerves you found a few minutes ago.

“On your toes. You’re making a mess.” And he does, of course, so you have a proper angle to aim him down at the bowl and prevent the twin rivulets of precum from sliding down your wrist onto his trousers. His mouth falls open when the first drops break the surface tension.

“That’s all I want you to focus on. You know you’ll do well, I know you’ll do well, just do this for me, okay?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Say it for me,” you croon softly into his ear, watching the goosebumps blossom down his neck when your lips graze it.

Jack’s head slumps to the side for a better look at you, but his irises are wandering like bumblebees and working against him.

“I’m focusing.” he slurs.

“I know, I know.” Your hand speeds up to match his breathing as he white knuckles the counter. It’s hard to keep your wrist steady when you feel his ass start tightening up.

“It’s gonna make a mess,” he gasps out.

“No it won’t. Stay still for me. You’ve got this. I know you do.”

Jack’s whole body tenses up, and his protests fade into little pants at your ambiguous encouragement. He throbs in your hand one, two, three, four times as you hold him just a whisper above the steaming bowl. No splash; the rest of him is trembling with the effort, but his hips stay locked in place to neatly spill into his meal.

As soon as his heels are back on solid ground, you’re stretching up to kiss right above his eyebrow. A hand cradling his jaw eases him back to reality.

“It’s a great speech.”

“It’s a great speech.” He can't stop himself from smiling, finally relaxed enough to let it reach his eyes.

-at the table-

From the beginning you’d insisted Jack should speak after you; he was much better at settling everyone into dinner conversation following your more formal remarks. Of course, your guests are utterly captivated by him; he manages to get even your sternest donors chuckling in under five minutes. So captivated, in fact, that you’re free to ogle at him from the other end of the table without worry. You’re crossing and recrossing your legs watching his mouth move, realizing for the first time tonight how fucking hungry you are. When the soup is served, you scarcely blink watching his first mouthful. He stares back just as entranced, completely forgetting his table manners and using his thumb to swipe an errant drop into his mouth.

[queenie-avenue]

Charming Demon Belle!

—> he expresses interest in you.

⤻ reader is female, reader's race/animal theme is not specified, reader is a bit insecure, alastor is a semi-sweetheart in this one, fluff, no canon-typical violence, dancing but it's not jazz *gasp*

notes: this fic was honestly a bit rushed, but i do really love alastor as a character and really wanted to write a fic for him but i currently do not have the time to invest in one idea i have for a longform fic so here's something small. feel free to post asks for alastor, or any other hazbin character, i would love to write your ideas!

💌 ⤻ archives.

You had been at the Hotel for a few months now, working on those trust exercises that Charlie persuaded — forced — you to join in. You loved the girl, but you found her methods to be a bit too idealistic at times. Especially since during your time as a human, you saw just how cruel life could actually be.

Still, you joined in because you came to love the girl. You came to love the rest of the staff and visitors too.

Whenever you came back to the Hotel after a long day of doing whatever, there Husker was with your favourite cocktail or Angel would be there to crack his stupid jokes and innuendos that would always make you huff out a laugh no matter how tired you were. Vaggie was a fun person to be around. There was quite a bit of anger in her, but you couldn't help but like how assertive she could be. You honestly admired her for being such a strong woman, something you thought you could never be. Charlie was just a ray of sunshine and though Nifty was weird, you found her almost endearing, just like Sir Pentious and his nerdy displays.

There was one person you could never calm yourself around though and it was the host of the Hotel.

Alastor, the Radio Demon.

Perhaps it was his reputation that made you feel so uncomfortable around him, but you refrained from speaking to him as much as you could. Those eyes and that never-ending smile seemed to follow you wherever you went, though, and you found that wherever you went, he was there just waiting.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

The Hotel was practically empty by the time afternoon hit. Husk was out getting more things for the bar alongside Nifty, who needed to buy more materials for cleaning. Angel Dust was at work. Charlie and Vaggie seemed to be on a date, of some sorts, encouraged by you as they seemed to be rather stressed these few days because of the upcoming Extermination.

As for Alastor... probably up in his radio tower.

And for you? You were lounging on the couch in the lobby of the hotel, scrolling through various television channels and hoping to find one that would entertain you for long enough.

"Hello, my dear!" The static-filled voice almost made you fall off the couch as you looked up to see the Radio Demon standing over you. "What are you doing?" Alastor inquired, looking at you before his gaze shifted to the TV in front of you, his eyes narrowing in what appeared to be annoyance. "Oh, you're watching a picture box, how quaint." He attempted to remain cordial in his speech, but it was clear he wanted to wreck that television.

He reached for the remote and pressed a few buttons. "What are you doing?" This time, it was your turn to question him.

"Turning off this pesky little thing, dear! You know, too much of this," he pointed his cane at the TV, "rots your brain!" He chuckled as he finally pressed the correct button to turn it off.

"You should get off the couch and get some exercise. Today is far too nice of a day to be wasted on such idle activities." He grinned wider as he his clawed hands grabbed yours and dragged you up.

"H-hey!" You yelled, shocked by the sudden touch. Despite the fact Alastor hated someone invading his personal space, he seemed to love to invade others.

"I know you don't like to exercise, so I have come up with a rather fun activity for us to partake in." Your eyes widened at his words. What in Hell's name did he mean by that? You had seen what Alastor viewed as 'fun' and you were now worried. He snapped his fingers as he dragged you to the middle of the lobby, a radio materialising on the bar desk as it began to loudly play some jazz music. "Some dancing ought to do the trick." He smiled.

"Um, Alastor." You peeped, "I'm glad you want to do an... activity with me. But I don't know how to dance. Let alone dance for some jazz music." You grinned awkwardly up at him as he looked down at you and tutted his lips.

"Ah, no worries." He grinned as he snapped his fingers again, causing the music on the radio to shift from jazz to classical. "We can start slow, of course. I could never force a lady to do something she didn't like." Well, that was ironic, considering what he was doing now.

"Hold on." He grinned as he grabbed your waist, using his other hand to guide yours to his shoulders. Without being able to respond, he dragged you across the floor.

"One, and a two. One and a two." He demonstrated how his feet moved about the floor, forcing you to follow against his steps as he swirled you about the hall. "See, you're already getting a hang of it." You couldn't help but smile at his words.

"Heh, yeah I guess I am." You grew more relaxed as you looked up at Alastor and his toothy grin and ash face.

He grinned wider. "I'm so glad that you are starting to feel comfortable around me, my darling." He expressed as he spun you around. "I was simply so hurt when I saw you interacting with the others but not me." He pulled you closer to his chest, "Might I ask why?" Alastor asked, the static filter on his voice disappearing slightly to reveal his human voice.

"I guess we just have personality clashes?" You tried to lie, not wanting to admit that you were intimidated and scared witless thanks to this demon, especially with the way he stalked you in the shadows at times.

"Haha!" He laughed comically. "My, what an intriguing assumption, my dear Belle!" He exclaimed as he spun you around and dipped you down. "I think we have more in common than you think."

"Like what?" You gasped out as he held you down, your hair brushing against the floor as you gazed up at him.

"Well, we're both sinners."

You deadpanned at his explanation. "That's it?"

"Well, there's certainly more, but why not leave it up for us to discover?" He suggested with a grin before pulling you up, slamming your face into his chest. Alastor gripped your chin in his sharp hands, his smile growing more sinister.

"I would certainly love to know more about you." His smile grew brighter, his eyes glimmering with a hint of intrigue and desire.

Shit, somehow that was the only thought running through your mind.

[amazingmsme]

Chin Up, Brother

AN: My first epic fic & I couldn’t be happier! These boys deserve to goof off & have fun, they’re so damn silly at their core. All Polites wants to do is cheer up their captain & he pays the ultimate price. Odysseus is such a teasy bastard, I can’t get over it

Polites can't stand seeing a sour face, especially when concerning his friends. Some days are better than others, with most of the crew in high spirits, but as time drags on, it gets harder and harder to make his friends smile.

Ever since returning from their successful ambush attack, Odysseus hadn't been himself. There was a vacancy behind his eyes; something tense in his stride. Polites couldn't stand seeing him like this.

Of course, he knew that their captain needed time to process... well, everything. But he was practically a walking zombie, going through the motions of life as his mind lingered elsewhere. If he were being honest, Polites missed the old Odysseus: the one who constantly teased and joked with his men, who checked in when he noticed they were upset. But being a captain, there was an invisible line the others didn't dare cross, which meant that his own needs went ignored.

"I don't know Eurylochus, he just seems so sad," he lamented, staring at their friend from afar. He felt a gentle hand rest on his shoulder.

"We all are. He just... has more on his plate than the rest of us," he tried to reason. Polites looked up at him with wide, soft brown eyes.

"Well then, maybe we should help him eat it!" he declared. Eurylochus scoffed and furrowed his brows in confusion, lips tugging upwards into an amused grin.

"Come again?"

Polites rolled his eyes and giggled, shoving his shoulder playfully. "Shut up, you know what I'm trying to say."

Eurylochus threw an arm around his shoulders, guiding him away from their sullen captain. "Just give him some time Polites. He'll be back to himself in no time," he reassured. Polites looked over his shoulder with a frown, dipping out from under his arm and stood blocking his path. Eurylochus looked shocked, but more than that, he looked impressed.

"But we're his friends! We should at least try to cheer him up!" he insisted. Eurylochus heaved a sigh.

"Polites, you need to remember he's our captain first, and our friend second. Let him have his space."

"I think he's had enough space!" he argued, causing his friend to roll his eyes. "You know he'd do the same for us," he said, his tone softer.

"It's his job-"

"Well then, it's our job as his friends to return the favor!" he said, returning to his chipper self. Eurylochus spared a glance at their captain manning the wheel, Polites following his gaze.

Odysseus had been watching them from where he stood, wondering what they were talking about. He tensed when he noticed them looking his way, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Polites smiled at him and waved. Odysseus didn't wave back.

Eurylochus sighed, knowing he had a point. "What did you have in mind?"

Polites hummed in thought, tapping his chin as he searched his brain for ideas. A bright smile stretched across his face as he turned to face him. "He's ticklish, right?" he asked, mischief beginning to overshadow his innocence.

Eurylochus immediately shook his head, eyes flying wide open. "No!"

Polites smirked and arched a brow. "Um, I'm pretty sure everyone's ticklish somewhere," he said, as if it were obvious. Eurylochus shook his head once more, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"I mean no, he'll kill you for even trying," he tried to warn, but Polites literally laughed him off.

"You know, you really need to learn to relax. Heh, maybe I should tickle you," he teased, reaching out to poke his side. Eurylochus jerked away with a yelp, grabbing onto his wrist after the fact. "Oh? Did I strike a nerve?" he taunted, poking him with his free hand. He choked back a laugh as he caught his other hand, staring him down with a warning look.

"Polites... don't. I'm trying to save you."

He snorted in amusement, dropping his hands to the side. Eurylochus let him go. "Save me from what? Our big, scary captain?" he joked, snickering at the mere thought. Odysseus wouldn't hurt a hair on his head! What was Eurylochus so worried about? He really needed to learn how to relax.

"Fine. It'll be your funeral."

"Oh lighten up Eurylochus!" he said as he headed towards the stairs, pausing to turn and point at him. "Or you'll be next," he winked before breaking off into giggles and rushing up the steps.

He watched him leave, fondly shaking his head. "Yeah, wouldn't count on it," he mumbled to himself, deciding he might as well get a good seat for the show that was surely about to start.

Polites skipped up the last few steps, walking with a bounce in his step that wasn't necessarily out of character, but it did catch Odysseus's attention.

"Hey Captain! How's she handling?" he asked, walking up from behind and clapping a hand on his shoulder. Odysseus studied him from the corner of his eye, growing skeptical.

"Um, fine.”

"Good, good," he nodded, trying to buy himself some time. "Looks like clear skies ahead," he continued with the idle small talk.

Odysseus sighed and turned to look at him, the deep circles under his eyes prominent. "What do you want, Polites?" he asked. He sounded annoyed and tired. Polites frowned. He hesitated before resting a hand on his shoulder, but even the soft touch seemed to startle him. He'd have to tread carefully.

"I want to know how you're holding up," he said earnestly. Odysseus shied away from his gaze, turning back to the open ocean that lay ahead.

"I'm fine," he said, his clenched jaw making his words sound harsh. His tone made Polites flinch back, holding his hands up in a placating motion. Odysseus regretted it almost instantly.

"Is that all you know how to say? Fine?" he asked, a playful, sheepish grin toying at the corner of his mouth. Odysseus felt himself fighting off a smile of his own at his friend's antics.

"Oh I could say a lot more. I'm just sparing you," he snarked.

"You don't have to. I'm always here if you need to talk," he insisted.

"Okay Polites," he huffed, bending his knees slightly and leaning back on the first word to emphasize his point, and yeah, Polites didn't appreciate the level of sass. Any hesitation he had about what he was about to do, Odysseus squashed it with that remark.

Eurylochus had made his way to the upper deck and sat down, untangling a mass of rope and knots to appear at least somewhat busy. His eyes were glued to the pair, wondering just how this would play out.

"Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he teased, crossing his arms. He noticed the way Odysseus bit back a smile.

"Careful. Did you forget who you're talking to?" he asked pointedly, arching a brow. Polites was practically beaming.

"Not at all, Captain," he spoke in his usual friendly manner, but with an uncharacteristic amount of sarcasm towards the end. Odysseus scoffed, mouth hanging open at the sheer audacity.

Polites glanced at Eurylochus and shot him a wink before gasping loudly, pointing in front of Odysseus and off to the side. "Wow, a pod of whales!"

Some men on the lower deck must've heard him, because a few rushed over to the rail to catch a glimpse. And just as he predicted, Odysseus turned to look. Now or never.

"Ticka ticka ticka ticka ticka!" he cried, scribbling his fingers over his sides and tweaking his ribs.  Odysseus honest to the Gods shrieked before a few deep belly laughs escaped. He tucked his arms close and doubled over, jerking the wheel to a hard right before letting go, and causing everyone to stumble and slide across the deck.

"Polites!" he scolded as said man was lost to a fit of bright, bubbly laughter. Odysseus scrambled to grab the wheel and right the ship, blushing profusely while simultaneously glaring daggers at his supposed "friend." Meanwhile the men below were yelling their own complaints, talking over each other and grumbling.

Polites wiped away a tear of mirth, patting him on the back before pulling him into a one armed hug. And okay, he couldn't help but shove his hand under his arm and poke his belly with the other. Odysseus snorted and tensed up, deep, rumbly giggles slipping past his clenched teeth before Polites finally relented.

"Ah, it's good to hear you laugh again Captain. No hard feelings," he said, going as far as to ruffle his hair before turning to leave.

"And just where do you think you're going?" The dark, even tone made Polites stop dead in his tracks.

A cold chill ran down his spine and he turned to face him. He caught sight of a smug, not very sympathetic Eurylochus. To make matters worse, he returned his wink from earlier.

"U-um, back to work?" he said weakly. Odysseus shook his head and let out a downright sinister chuckle. Before this moment, he didn't even know a laugh could be scary.

"After that? I don't think so." He took a step forward, and Polites took three steps back.

"I-I was just trying to cheer you up!" he pleaded, eyes wide.

"Really? Wow, I never would've guessed that," he mocked, letting his voice start to take on a teasing edge. "But how about I repay the favor?" he asked, voice dropping lower as he let the smirk he'd been holding back overtake his features.

"No thanks!" he was quick to say, foot already on the first step down.

"No, really. I insist."

Polites opened his mouth, but he was at a loss for words.

"Eurylochus?"

Said man perked up at the sound of his name, and he suddenly felt nervous hearing it thrown out amidst the altercation. "Yes sir?"

"Take the wheel."

He smirked to himself and nodded dutifully as he stood.

"Yes sir."

Polites wasted no time, rushing down the stairs as fast as he could. Unfortunately, mistakes were made and he ended up in a crumbled heap at the bottom. Odysseus peered down from the railing that overlooked the deck. "You okay down there?"

Polites gave a weak thumbs up.

The sound of fast, heavy footsteps above him kicked him into high gear and he scrambled to his feet. Odysseus took the stairs two at a time, vaulting over the rail and jumping on the deck once he was close enough. Polites was weaving through the thin crowd, desperately trying to make it to the crows nest. Maybe if he climbed up there, he could just stay there until Odysseus forgot all about it.

And then his face hit the deck for a second time.

He immediately began pleading his case as Odysseus rolled him onto his back. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, it'll never happen again!" He thrashed and squirmed trying to escape, but Odysseus had him thoroughly trapped. "Please, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!"

Odysseus threw his head back with a hearty laugh. "Oh Polites, you're so funny. A little tickling never killed anyone," he taunted, leaning in with a feral grin. Polites squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip to dam the giggles that were already making an appearance.

"N-not yet!" he whined, drawing another low chuckle from the captain.

"Oh, you plan on being the first?" he taunted, tongue peaking out between his teeth as he grinned down at him. Then, as if to rub it in further, he laughed at his own joke and began cracking his knuckles. Polites giggled nervously, legs scrambling for purchase on the deck as he tried to get away.

"Nohoho! Let me gohoho! I'm sohohorry!"

"Laughing already? Maybe you should've thought this through," he said, mock sympathy dripping from his voice.

"Odysseus, plehehease! Dohon't!" Polites tried to plead his case one last time. The captain smirked, cocking his head at his friend.

"Don't what, Polites?" he asked, feigning cluelessness. Or was he going for innocence? It was kind of hard to tell.

Now, Odysseus was known for being sly and tricky. From his place at the wheel, Eurylochus saw the trap for what it was. Polites on the other hand, wasn't in a place to scrutinize his friend's intent. He answered almost immediately, "Tickle me!"

In all honesty, Odysseus wasn't sure he'd fall for it or not. He couldn't be happier.

Polites yelped and flinched when Odysseus fell forward in a fit of laughter, resting his forehead on Polites's chest. His shoulders shook with the force of his laughter before he sat up straight. Polites opened his mouth to speak, but froze when he saw the downright predatory look Odysseus was giving him.

"Polites, Polites, Polites..." he shook his head and patted his cheek each time he addressed him. Said man whined, twisting his head away from the patronizing hand.

"W-why're you saying it like that?" he asked nervously. Odysseus stared at him in awe.

"You don't even realize what you just said, do you?" Realization washed over Polites, his eyes going wide. Odysseus's smirk only grew as he watched it dawn on his friend.

"No wait, that's not what I meant! I was answering your question!"

"You really ought to use your words more carefully," he warned before digging in. He latched onto his hips, drilling circles with his thumbs. Polites immediately burst into loud, bubbly laughter as he slapped at his hands.

"Y-you trihihicked mehehe!" he cried, as if that fact would make him stop.

"Yeah, and it was easy. Seriously, you walked right into that one buddy," he taunted, slipping his hands under his shirt to scribble over his bare stomach. Polites snorted, trying to roll on his side. His laughter grew deeper and more full as one of his worst spots was targeted.

"NOHOHO! Cahahaptain, not there! Not thehehehere! Plehease!" he begged, thrashing as much as he could, though mostly he was fighting to curl into the tightest ball possible to protect his sensitive tummy. Odysseus slowed his movements, drumming his fingers impatiently to keep him giggling, broken up by the occasional hiccup.

"Alright tough guy, then where?"

Polites managed to grab his hands by interlocking their fingers and shoved them back as he caught his breath. "W-whahat?"

"You said not there... so, where should I tickle instead?" he asked, the happiest, smuggest grin gracing his lips. Oh Polites hated him right now.

"Nowhere!"

"Sorry, I'm afraid I can't accept that answer."

"Why ahare you being soho mean?" he whined, trying to work his way free. Odysseus decided to let him think he had a chance.

"You made me almost capsize the ship!" Okay, maybe that was an over exaggeration, but he could have made them capsize. And that would've been a tough one to explain to the rest of the fleet.

Polites rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breath, "You're the one who jerked the wheel..." Apparently he didn't mutter quiet enough.

Odysseus scoffed, mouth hanging open. "Excuse me?" Polites froze, mouth snapping shut. "Care to repeat that?" He shook his head frantically. "No, say it again. I don't think I heard you correctly," he said, slipping out of his grip with ease and poking all over his stomach.

"Plehehease! This ihisn't fahair!" he giggled, propping himself up weakly on his elbows, trying to crawl out from where he was pinned.

"No, what's not fair is tickling me in front of everyone, while I'm busy doing a very important task, no less" he insisted, trying to come off as stern, but he was smiling far too wide.

"It wahas just five seconds, Captain," Polites chuckled, arching a brow playfully. He just didn't know when to quit, did he?

"Oh yeah? Then I guess you deserve five minutes."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah, you can handle it. Five minutes is nothing," Odysseus shrugged casually, but the look in his eyes was that of a pure feral mischief.

Polites looked at him in utter shock. "No, five minutes is five minutes!"

"Always so eloquent," he taunted, wiggling a finger between his ribs. Polites barked out a laugh, twisting away. Of course, he only jerked into the other hand, delivering a nibbling pinch to his lower ribs. "Now shut up and laugh."

"That's contradictoRYYYYY!" Polites broke off into a shriek that melted into shrill giggles.

"You never answered my question by the way," he teased, playing his ribs like a piano. Polites snorted, both hands flying up to cover his face, but the red hue tinging his cheeks was visible in between his fingers.

"Ohoho bite mehehe!" he snarked, throwing his head back in wild laughter. The sound was full and bright, drawing out a good handful of soldiers to enjoy the rare bout of mischief on display.

"Well if you insist..." he smirked down at him as he began slowly rolling up his shirt. Polites shook his head, hands fighting to tug his shirt back down.

"NO! O-Odysseus, don't you dare!" he threatened weakly before he was shoved back down to the deck.

"Why? What're you gonna do about it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side like a curious puppy, or perhaps, more like a hungry wolf.

"I'll... Never talk to you again!" Even Polites knew that was a lie, and Odysseus didn't mind calling him out on it.

"Ha! You couldn't even last a day," he proclaimed, making Polites huff with a pout. "Oh don't give me that look, you know it's true," Odysseus rolled his eyes, reaching down to claw his stomach.

Polites gave up on holding his shirt down in favor of fending off the attacking hands. Odysseus took his chance and tugged the shirt up, pausing as an idea came to him, and he pulled the shirt over his friend's head with an evil little snicker.

"HEHEY!" he yelled as his vision was replaced with white fabric. Odysseus shrugged, despite knowing he couldn't really see him.

"What? It was getting in the way," he said as he lowered his head towards his bare stomach.

"It was NOHOHOT! BY THEHE GOHOHODS, STOHOHOP!" Polites shrieked through hysterics, completely taken off guard now that he couldn't see what Odysseus was doing.

He paused, sitting up to push his hair away from his face. "What? You said to bite you," he reminded cheekily.

"You're thehe worst!" Polites whined, reaching up to yank the shirt off of his head, only for Odysseus to playfully smack him away.

"Well that's not very nice! I never would've thought you of all people would forget your manners," he teased before diving back in to nibble his sides, sending him into another bout of hysterics. Odysseus shook his head and growled into the skin, making loud fake chewing sounds. Polites was almost grateful for his shirt hiding his face; at least then no one could see how much he was blushing.

In fact, he couldn't remember a time he felt more embarrassed. Maybe if he thought hard about it he could, but there was no chance of that happening any time soon. Odysseus had a perfect knack for doing or saying the most flustering thing at any given moment, and it seemed like he was intent on putting him through the wringer.

Polites was pulled from his thoughts when a shriek ripped itself from his throat as a raspberry was blown in the middle of his belly.

"Nonono Cahahaptahain DOHOHON'T!" he squealed before breaking off in shrill laughter, peppered with snorts. His legs scrambled and kicked the deck from where he was pinned, hands flying about uselessly. Odysseus popped back up to let him catch his breath.

"You're way more ticklish than me! I can't believe you honestly thought you could get away with that," he taunted, letting his fingers crawl up his sides towards his ribs. He leaned in to growl in his ear, "Just how did that work out for you?" He reached up to tug his shirt back down. What good was tickling him if he couldn't see the smile plastered on his adorable face?

"Hohohorrible! Ca-Cahahaptain plehehease! Let me gohoho I'm sohohohorryyyy!" Polites begged through helpless giggles that Odysseus chuckled along with.

"See, you say that, but you don't sound all that sorry," he teased, barely biting back his smirk.

"Ihihi aham!" he insisted. Odysseus studied him with a sly grin.

"Alright then... prove it," he ordered. Polites furrowed his brows as he sucked in air between bouts of giggles. He stared up at the captain skeptically.

"... How?" he questioned, arching a brow. His glasses were askew in the opposite direction, making for a rather funny expression. Odysseus snorted, reaching out to fix his glasses for him. "Oh, thank you," he muttered, adjusting them slightly, sitting them in a more comfortable position than Odysseus had.

"It's easy, really, all you gotta do is keepyourarmsup," he finished his sentence in a jumbled rush, masking it with a fake cough. But Polites heard him loud and clear, clutching his arms to his chest.

"Nohoho wahay, are you crahazy?" he asked incredulously.

"No, I'm the captain," he answered smugly. Polites stared at him, rather unamused by the joke it would seem. Odysseus couldn't have that, so he latched onto his knees.

"SHIT SHIT SHIHIHIT! Nohohot thehehere!" Polites fell back on the deck, overwhelmed by another fit of laughter. Odysseus relentlessly squeezed his kneecaps, no matter where they tried to kick to escape his grasp. Polites snorted, hiding his face behind his hands. He had no choice but to comply. "Ohohokahay I'll dohoho ihit!"

Odysseus pulled his hands away with a smirk. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" he asked innocently. Polites threw his head back with a giggly whine. He flinched with a sharp yelp when Odysseus tapped his elbows.

"C'mon, put 'em up," he prompted, making the task practically impossible by wiggling his fingers threateningly.

A small group of spectators stood off to the side, seemingly enjoying the show. Elpenor couldn’t help but throw in his two cents, cupping his hands around his mouth, "Remember, we need him alive, Sir!"

Odysseus let out a hearty laugh, patting his victim on the chest. "He's still breathing!"

"Barely!" Polites squeaked out, drawing out more laughter from their audience. His pink cheeks turned a shade darker.

"Pft, and you say I'm dramatic. This'll be the last thing, I swear," Odysseus said, hiding crossed fingers behind his back. Polites looked at him skeptically before sighing in defeat.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Promise?" he repeated himself, trying to sound more stern. Odysseus rolled his eyes.

"Yes, fine, I promise," he lied.

Polites took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He raised his arms up about halfway before he froze, shaking his head as nervous giggles spilled out. Odysseus shrugged.

"Eh, good enough for me," he declared before digging his hands in the free space under his arms. Polites squealed and his arms came crashing down immediately. Odysseus couldn't help but laugh along as Polites snorted through his laughter. His mouth hung open in a wide smile, dimples shining on his rosy cheeks.

After a few seconds he let up on his friend, but he didn't yet release him. Polites looked up at him, squirming more the longer he remained trapped.

"H-hey, aren't you gonna let me up?"

Odysseus offered a not so sympathetic look. "About that... I was crossing my fingers." Polites gasped at the betrayal.

"But you promised!"

"And this'll be the last last thing. Promise for real this time," Odysseus said, holding his hand out to shake. Polites looked at his hand, then up to meet his gaze as he scoffed.

"I dohon't trust you!"

"You trust me with your life," Odysseus taunted in a matter of fact tone, sly smirk playing at his lips. Polites bit the inside of his cheek to try and hide his amusement.

"That's different," Polites reasoned.

"Mmm, is it though?" he asked, cocking his head. Polites glared up at him, but the blush and smile combo he sported lessened the blow. Odysseus took the chance to scoop up one of his hands, giving it a firm shake to seal the deal before Polites wretched free from his grasp with a half amused huff.

"There, now you have my word."

"A lotta good that's worth," Polites sassed, crossing his arms. Odysseus stared at him in shock.

"Oh I'm sorry, do you want me to keep going?" he growled in a low, threatening tone, reaching down to squeeze his hips unexpectedly. Polites screeched and arched his back, hands flying down to protect himself.

"NOHOHO I'M SOHOHORRY PLEHEHEASE!"

Odysseus pulled back with a proud grin, "Yeah, that's what I thought. And just for that..." he trailed off, adjusting their position slightly to make sure Polites was securely pinned.

He giggled nervously, body already tensing up. "Ohohodysseus, plehease! Just let me gohoho!" he whined.

"After that remark? I don't think so."

Odysseus grabbed his head, gently holding it to the side, and Polites knew what was coming.

"Nohoho, please not thahahat! Cahahaptain, please, I'm sorrYYYYY!" his begging fell on deaf ears, morphing into a squeal as Odysseus bent down to blow a raspberry on the sweet spot just below his ear. Bubbly giggles filled the salty sea air as Polites fought for his life, flopping around on the deck in desperate search for any leverage he could use for escape. Odysseus took a deep breath, gently turning his head so he could get the other side.

Another giggly scream burst free from his lungs, hands shoving weakly at his shoulders. Polites wasn't sure how he could have so much air in his lungs, the gods had to be playing some cruel joke on him. And then, just like that it was over. Odysseus rolled off of him, leaving him to cope with a residual laughing fit, furiously rubbing away the lingering feelings on his neck.

Odysseus drummed a quick beat on Polites's chest, chuckling when he was playfully smacked away.

"You're an asshole," Polites said, not even bothering to try and hide the wide grin overtaking his features. “And you need to shave.” Odysseus chuckled, scratching his stubble nonchalantly.

"Sorry bud, I had to make an example outta you," he shrugged with a cheeky click of his tongue. He stood up and brushed himself off, offering a hand to Polites. He hesitantly accepted it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. His legs felt just a tad shaky, but he quickly steadied himself. The embarrassment, however, was much harder to hide.

Odysseus tried to reach up to ruffle his hair, but Polites quickly danced out of reach with a giggle. "Stahay away from me!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Odysseus just stood there, a smug, shit eating grin on his face as he watch Polites go running back to Eurylochus.

A soft hoot to his left startled him, and he turned to see an owl perched nearby, watching him with its head tilted at a perfect 90° angle.

Now it was his turn to blush it seemed, as the owl hooted again, twisting its head all the way around. It stared up at him with large, curious eyes.

"Oh shut up, I was teaching him a lesson."

But Athena knew better.

[prof-peach]

Bit ooc but I have a question. How you do go about planing out your PLA comic? Like how do you actually turn your ideas/ storyline into comic form? Is it chapter to chapter or do you have the whole idea already planned out? Trying to find my own way in comic making so I’m just wondering if you could give any advice. Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel comfortable answering

So, at first this was al i could think to send.

because its incredibly accurate to my process.

Jokes aside, a lot of how i work is back and forth chaos, fighting with ideas until im happy with them. I will start with a list (usually not written down because im unhinged and keep a ot of it in my brain) and organise it in a way that makes sense to the situation, in this case workign with a game with an established plot...not that its a very strong one.

with a set of ideas, and a game to work around i will ramble and rant to a few choice people who i bounce well off, and also stare into space for hours on end building the ideas. This process can be days, it can be years. For context, i have some notes from 2019 about things i wanted to include that are still relevant. I have been scheming how to break and rebuild this OC for ages. Theres no correct time frame, so long as you simply do the work.

Once i have a fairly loose plan, i start to solidify the benning and the end. What is required to make a character compelling, what makes them believable, what makes them human in a way that we recognise. this isnt always a positive thing, people like to call characters who do bad things problematic, but its human nature to make mistakes and be damaged or difficult, the process of the story is not always rainbows and sunshine. For me, this hits even harder, as im trying to tell a story from the perspective of someone fundamentally broken, so showing those breaks and cracks has to be done wisely.

This is the point where i make notes about things that need to change from the start to the end. And ill say one thing, this story in particular, I have not solidly planned the middle. I am allowing space for me to come up with new ideas at points. Being locked into a dead set of ideas can be quite limiting, and as creators we consume and process things constantly to generate new stories. Id be a fool to make a plan and stick to it. everything i do is vague guidelines.

However, I know exactly how the story ends in Hisui, and where it goes to from there. And i think me personally knowing the end goal makes it easier to plot steps towards that, and some of those steps are anything but progressive.

If nothing else, the end was the only thing i saw clearly, and it has only become more complex and loaded and emotional as the rest of this has fallen into place. If you can see the goal, you can work out how to get there with time.

Regarding the chapters, i tend to draft plan up like 3-4 of them at a time, and then go in order to sketch out one after the other, so i have plenty of time to change things while i adjust. its constantly a process of seeing what you make, seeing issues, and scrapping whole parts just to redraw something better or new, unique even. I dont think a single page ive posted has resembled the very VERY first draft thumbnail ive made, and thats just how i do. Every panel, how big they are, the angle you hand the viewer, the way you light things, the expressions, this all dictates SO SO much.

Taking time over it is kind of the job, and let me stress, this is normally a job done by a team, especially the highly popular comics. one inks, one colours, one shades, one handles text, one edits, theres so many people behind it, so dont be bothered by the pace at which things are made if youre working alone like i am. One person means longer production times, if you can, spread the workload out, but its not required. Its why i always say it doesnt matter how long it takes to make, so long as youre still making.

I think its also worth noting, comics are consumed quickly, the bakcgournds and small details can be lost in the ace of the storytelling, pick and choosing your battles is wise, save your time on panels where you want the reader to shift along quicker, keep that pace high, and add in more detail and depth to panels you want to champion or get the viewers to hang around on more. its ok to let go of a "perfect" image in favour of getting content out, if youre being driven nuts by it. Again, time be damned, be happy with it. And if you can let go of petty details, id suggest doing it when possible, so long as it doesnt effect the storytelling.

I mean what else can i even say. This work is a passion project, I love it, more than i can even put into words, and i think you kind of have to, to make comics without monetary motivation. sure you can get lucky and find ways to make it big, but for most of us, its the love of the story. So maybe try not to be your biggest hater, its easy to slip into the behaviour, so try be gentle on yourself and the process. I should take that advice myself haha! but i really do mean it. This is HARD work, so be kind to yourself over it.

anyway, with a rough idea, a bunch of sketches, and time, they get inked and fussed over, i make a billion changes to layout and story, and eventually posting can happen but not after fighting with the monster that is creating. Idk what else i can say. This is not work for the feint of heart, but anyone can learn to do it.

Good luck, comic artists can always use it!

[webslingingslasher]

Tells Me We're Not Done

Part 2 to Something in the Orange.

this is so long tumblr is making me put it in two parts, adding part 3 after this!

Genre: Angst/Fluffy

Warnings: depictions of sex, stay safe, kiddos!

Word Count: 15k between here and part 3

Summary: Peter does his best to win you back after he dumps you.

The Parker household could be eerily quiet. 

Funny how you never noticed it before, usually the giggles escaping your mouth as Peter pinched lightly anywhere he could reach would fill the empty spaces. Or you could hear the whisper of Mays TV in her room, maybe even Peter as he danced around in the kitchen making grilled cheeses or grabbing you stashed soda. 

But right now in Peter’s room all you hear is the hum of the AC, and the drips coming from his bathroom sink, he needs to turn it off all the way. You hear the slow whoosh of cars passing by several floors down, you hear Peter’s fingers tapping on the kitchen counter, you can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s looking for something or he’s trying to think of something to say, anything to break the silence. 

You hadn’t looked at Peter since you got here, you didn’t even speak to him. 

“Hey! I’m glad you could still find the place.” He tried to joke. Tried. 

You nodded your head and swerved around him into his room, you set your bag higher on your shoulders, and then you felt very aware of your surroundings. It’s been a while since you’ve been in his room, it was almost comedic, this was always where you felt the most safe but you have never been more on edge than right now. 

Where did you sit? 

On his bed? Too many memories, the way he fit over your body perfectly. The bed where he made you feel loved and protected and safe and treasured? No, you can’t sit there. 

At his desk? The same one you would sit across his lap on, the one that you had begged a time or two to get off his game so he could get on you? The same desk he’s bent you over? No, you can’t sit there. 

Peter watches you move your head around his space before your shoulders slump with defeat and you throw your backpack off and drop to the floor sitting crisscross. 

The floor was safe, nothing happened on the floor. 

“Want anything to eat? Something to drink?” 

The carefulness in his voice, the comforting gesture made the hair on your neck raise, you didn’t say a word. 

You didn’t want to be here, that was well known. 

Peter sighed and made himself absent, it didn’t feel good to him either. Knowing that this is your worst nightmare and you were currently experiencing it made him feel pretty shitty, it doesn’t help that you won’t give him anything to work with either. 

You stared at the carpet long enough to see swirls and shapes, tracing with your hands. Your brain made a pattern with the sink drips, pause, pause, pause, drip. Pause, pause, pause, drip. It began moving in sync with Peter’s finger tapping in the kitchen, pause, pause, pause, drip, tap. Pause, pause, pause, drip, tap. 

What deity did you piss off to put you in this position? 

The words echo as your hand pushes the carpet one way, darker, the other way, lighter. 

“Y/N and Peter. Y/N and Peter. Y/N and Peter.” 

It happened Wednesday, and now it was Saturday. 

“I have some news. We are breaking down points in history and colliding them with story acts. You have all been assigned a partner and will have two weeks to complete it. We finish next Wednesday, but you’ll be getting your partners today and you can start working on it now. Get an idea, I’ll be passing out sheets with different points in history you can pull from.” 

She rolled her eyes when the class groaned, “Yeah, yeah. If you want to let the creativity flow feel free to pull a moment on your own. I’m letting you guys take the rein on this, have fun! Express yourselves!” 

You blew a heavy breath, you haven’t paid attention in months and now you were being thrown into a massive assignment. Mrs. Bender approached the front of the room and grabbed a stack of papers. “Y/N, Tonya, please pass these out to your classmates.” 

The stack was split and she handed you each one and you both went to separate sides of the room. You started in front and worked towards the back, the fourth table was MJ and Peter. You gave one to MJ and met her eyes, “Hi.” She smiled back, “Hey.” 

You let one fall to the middle of the desk, the paper sweeping the air before sliding across the slick black table and falling to the ground. You shrugged at the paper on the floor and shrugged, “Oops.” You stepped on the front of the page and made your way to the table behind them. 

Peter watched MJ smirk, he turned his gaze to the ground and picked up his paper stamped with your shoe print. 

“These will be your partners, no exchanges or substitutions allowed. Tonya and Brent. MJ and Kate. Yousif and Rusty. Drea and Drake. Cory and Becca. Y/N and Peter.” 

Your eyes shot up to the room, your heart was racing. This couldn’t be happening, not him. Not your ex, you literally begged him to hook up and he left. You told him everything was a front, that you still lo- No. Don’t think about that. 

This was a nightmare. Your cheeks burst with heat, your heart hit your rib cage with each thump, your palms become sweaty on the tabletop. You had to keep swallowing the saliva building in your mouth, scared that you’d puke if you stopped. 

The teacher just kept going like she didn’t end your world. 

“Dustin and Vanessa. Forrest an-“ You cut her off and shoved a hand in the air before speaking. 

“No! No, No, Absolutely not!” Peter’s head shot to yours. The other students were already moving around matching up with their partners. 

“What was that?” The teacher stopped her rambles. 

“Please. Anyone else, I’ll do anything. I’ll clean your car, I’ll do Saturday school until the end of year! I’ll even stay late and grade your last classes work! Please, anything!” You pleaded. 

“No exceptions, it’s not fair to everyone else.” She shrugged her shoulders and tried to continue. 

“What if I work alone?” You stood at your desk. 

“No.” She flipped her grade book. 

You huffed and swore under your breath. 

“Fine! I won’t do it then!” You threatened no one but yourself. 

“Ms. Y/N do I need to remind you of your circumstance? You don’t do this project, you’re out of here. Permanently.” She raised an eyebrow and taunted you, she wanted to see how you would react. 

You threw your hands up and slumped back on your seat. “Yeah! I know! I know!” 

Even being paired with Peter wouldn’t make you talk to him, and bless his heart for trying. He’s tried cornering you in school, he’s tried calling (and was ignored immediately), he even showed up at your window but all he received was an unwavering middle finger until he slowly crept away. 

His last ditch was a text, ‘Hey. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but we need to get this done. Come to mine tonight?’ 

He wasn’t expecting a response, and you didn’t give one. You just showed up. 

“Water?” 

He held out a bottle and you sniffed, dragging your knee to your chin you turned the other way. Peter placed it next to you anyways. 

“You sure you don’t wanna sit up here?” Peter tapped the space next to him on the bed. 

“I’m fine where I am.” The first words you spoke to him all week and they were just as distant and cold as when you told him you hated him. He never really believed that, but now he was. 

“I can pull my desk chair over, or I can get one from the kitchen-” 

“I said I’m fine.” You cut him off and listened to the empty space, you relied on the drips like a metronome. Then the hum of the AC, and new to the mix was Peter breathing. It wasn’t loud but it was steady, something to build off of. If you tried really, really hard maybe you could hear the blood pumping in and out of his heart. 

“What do you smell right now?” The carpet was leaving an almost itchy feeling on your fingertip but you kept swirling it, scared if you stopped they would shake. 

“Uh, I don’t know. I can smell your perfume, and I think Mr. Denison next door is making cookies or banana bread.” Confused. He was confused. 

“Not like that. Me.” 

Peter’s eyes widened.  It was very rare for you to ask him to use his senses on you, it’s not like he had a choice, it would happen regardless. But he respected that you didn’t want to know, or didn’t care to, so unless you asked he never brought it up. 

He breathed out slowly and took an inhale at the same rate, he looked at you and frowned slightly. You wouldn’t look at him still, you were turned from him and curled inwards trying to get as far away from him as possible. 

“Scared. Nervous. Anxious. Upset. Sad. Hurt.” 

You let out a small laugh. 

“Was that Spidey, or was that your intuition?” 

“A little of both.” 

Drip, pause, pause, pause, drip. 

“I’m sorry, by the way. I don’t think I ever told you that, but I am.” 

You looked at him for the first time in a week, you actually recognized him as a human. 

“For what?” 

“Hurting you. Breaking up with you, making you hate me. Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N. Can I just give you an umbrella apology?” 

You nodded at him. 

Drip. 

“How would we move past this?” 

“What do you mean?” Peter can’t help his spirits get slightly lifted at that. 

“I don’t know how to look at you and not be overwhelmed with sadness, Peter. You were my entire fucking life and it was smashed in one night. And I know you’re trying to fix it, and I really want you to. I want to go back like nothing ever happened but it did. It did happen, and you really, really hurt me. So how do we get past this?” 

“How can I give you that kind of power again?” You added with a whisper, you laid a cheek on your knee and closed your eyes. 

Drip. Pause, pause, pause. Drip. 

Peter breathes once, twice, three times, drip. Peter rubs his pant leg against the bed, the comforter ruffles, he breathes, drip, drip, drip. 

You can’t stand it anymore, now you understand why Chinese water torture is mind exploding. 

“I don’t know, but it’s not up to me anymore.” Peter’s turn to keep his sight from you. 

“What does that mean?” You nearly wince at your voice. Why did you sound so sad? 

Peter looks you in the eye, it wasn’t his decision anymore. That much was clear. 

“I hurt you, I broke your trust. I did the worst thing to you I could’ve ever done. It’s up to you now, what do you want? Do you want to be friends, never speak to me again, or maybe somewhere in the middle?” 

You chew your bottom lip and look his face over. 

Drip. 

You think of each time you’ve kissed his cheeks, each time you’ve counted his freckles while he’s slept, each time you traced over his features, every moment of him being yours came in a flash. 

Drip. 

More than anything in the world, you missed loving him like you could lose him. There was nothing so delicate and private in the world. 

Drip. 

“I know what I want.” The words were a whisper, scared to say them aloud, scared to whisper them into admission. 

“Tell me.” His tone matched yours, he was just as scared to hear it as you were to say it. 

Drip. 

“I want you to win me back.” 

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Peter smile like that, not since he was yours. 

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip failing to catch the growing grin. 

“I can do that.” He nods. 

 “I can do that.” 

—-------------------

Flowers everyday. 

That’s how it started. 

On Monday they were purple Hyacinths, left outside your front door with a small handwritten note: Sorrow, please forgive me. 

You’re reminded of every time Peter’s tried to get your attention with a wave or a smile or even tried to offer an olive branch by walking you home. 

Tuesday they were red Tulips with a similar note attached: Believe me, my feelings are true. 

You know he’s sorry, he’s made that much clear. 

Wednesday they were Violets: I’ll always be there.

Even when you haven’t wanted him. 

Before the presentation in class Hydrangeas were left in your locker: Good luck and fortune.

Thursday were mixed Zinnias: Thinking in memory of an absent friend and lasting affection.

He’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. 

Friday was a Gladioli: Give me a break, I am really sincere.

He’s asking you to trust him one more time. 

Saturday morning there were several flowers and notes outside of your window. 

A Coreopsis: Always cheerful.

You’ve made him so happy.

A Lily of the Valley: A return to happiness, you’ve made my life complete. 

You give him something to look forward to.

A Dandelion: Faithfulness and happiness.

Something he can rely on. 

A Lavender stem: Admiration. 

He doesn’t know how someone could be so perfect.

A red Carnation: My heart aches for you. 

He hasn’t ever known pain that ebbs so deep into him.

A Sweet-Pea: Thank you for a lovely time. 

You gave him a true meaning in life, not Spider-Man, Peter. You gave Peter a meaning.

A Forget-Me-Not: True love and memories. 

It really was true love, there was nothing more pure about it.

A Narcissus: Stay as sweet as you are. 

He can only hope he hasn’t damaged that.

A Petunia: Your presence soothes me. 

You have a presence that calms him, it’s a talent only you and Aunt May possess. 

A Camellia: I’m longing for you. 

He’s thought of you everyday since he ended it. 

A Daffodil: You’re the only one, the sun is only shining when I’m with you. 

Everything's better when you’re around.

Finally a Primrose: I can’t live without you. 

Because he really can’t.

On Sunday you caught him in the act. 

Dressed in dark tan khakis, a blue plaid button down and a dark gray jacket. His Nike shoes matched the hints of dark blues in his shirt, his hair looked extra fluffy today. You always begged him to grow it longer, sometimes he would appease you and wait an extra week or two before he chopped it but the past month he’s let it grow, long curls framed his face and all you wanted to do was tangle them around your fingers. 

“Careful, another bouquet and I’ll have to start my own nursery.” You chided him and grinned when his cheeks flushed briefly after he slightly jumped unaware of your lurking presence. 

“Were you waiting for me?” His hand was behind his back, you were eager to see the flower of the day. 

“Maybe. It’s impressive how you’ve dropped them all week without me seeing you. Are you using your stealth secrets on me?” 

“I could be, It’s better to see your reaction when I’m not in front of you. It seems more authentic.” 

“Oh, when you’re not in front of me? Does that mean you’re lurking around watching me like some kind of stalker?” You grinned at his caught look, he didn’t mean to let that slip, but he was going to lean into it. 

“I just want to make sure you get them, I don’t want some sorry guy coming by stealing my tactics.” 

“Have you watched me before? Cause I swear I’ve got the feeling someone is just out of sight on a roof I can’t see.” You hinted at his alter ego and watched him nonchalantly shrug. 

“Sometimes. Mostly at night when you were alone, I used to walk you home, you know. What if some guy from Ryker's got out and thought you were an ex that locked them up and you got stabbed to death?” 

Your eyes widened. “Is that the stuff you worried about when we broke up?” 

We. No, ‘when you’, it was we. 

“Like a mantra.” 

A frown crossed your face. “Here I was worried you weren’t going to know how to put your own band-aids on, nice to know you are still obsessed over me.” 

“Always have, always will.” He smiled and remembered why he was here. 

“I have something for you.” 

You grinned and made grabby hands, “Lemme see it!” 

“It’s not a flower.” 

You pouted and booed. 

“Let me give you mine first then.” 

Peter’s eyebrows raised, “You have something for me?” 

“Yeah, hold on.” You dipped back into your room for a moment and emerged with a small pot, three short green stalks were bunched together. You held it out for him to grab, one hand was kept behind his back. 

He looked at you and waited for the explanation. 

“It’s a lucky bamboo. It symbolizes growth and renewal, something for a new life stage. I thought it was fitting.” 

He hugged it tight to his chest, “Thank you. I love it, I am gonna nurture the fuck out of this. His name is gonna be Groot, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You both just smiled at each other for a moment too long, almost forgetting why you were both here. You think Peter lent in for a second before jumping slightly, he remembered why he came. 

“Here’s yours.” 

Peter passed you a folded up paper, you looked confused but grabbed it from him. You looked up to catch him grinning at his branches and he whispered something to the green before nodding at you to unfold the paper. 

Inside were two printed tickets to the Planetarium, you gasped and dropped your jaw. You looked towards him and he was already smiling at your reaction. 

“Oh my god, Peter!” 

You rushed forward with a squeal and crushed him in a hug, both of your arms wrapped around his, he let out a ‘oof’ and pulled one arm from under yours to wrap it around you. You pushed forward just a little closer, resting your cheek against his chest, he felt warm and sturdy. No matter how much time passed you missed this the most, just feeling him, and feeling like nothing could harm you. 

“Did I do good?” His words felt like vibrations in your cheek. 

“Amazing!” You grinned up at him and pushed yourself to your tiptoes to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

He paused for a second, shock in his system. You kissed him. Well, not a full on kiss, but it was a hint of one. 

“Well then, would you like to go on a date with me?” 

You smiled so wide you bit your bottom lip trying to rein it in. 

“I would love to.” 

-------------------------------------------------

A date it was. 

Peter pulled out all the stops, he took you to a nice dinner, one where they had a candle on the table and ketchup wasn’t available. He even looked over the menu beforehand and let you know what he thinks you would like, not that you can’t make your own choices but new restaurants always give you a little anxiety. You were unsure what you would like and felt like you were wasting time looking over the menu rereading the same summaries hoping one would jump out at you. 

Then after dinner he gave you his jacket, walking down the street you were confused when he didn’t call for a taxi but followed him anyway. You looked down at his hand next to yours and grabbed it, then he intertwined them and pulled you to the side of a building. You looked up at the sign and then him. 

“Chocolatier?” 

He pulled an eyebrow up, “You didn’t think I forgot about dessert did you? 

“I’m getting two slices of cake.” You moved to pull him inside, he followed behind and you both paused at the door inhaling the sweet scent blowing in your faces. 

“As long as I can get a bite.” 

“We’ll see.” 

After dessert he took you to the planetarium and you gazed up in awe at the constellations. The seats were recliners and lent all the way back so you had undivided attention at the ceiling. 

“Which one is that?” You pointed up at a stack of stars, they almost made the shape of a person. Peter followed your finger up, “That one?” He pointed at the same star, you nod. 

“Andromeda. A Greek princess.” 

“Ooh. Wait, where is the big bear and little bear?” You moved your head but couldn’t place it, those were your favorites. 

Peter grabbed your hand and pointed up at them, he traced the stars with your finger, “Big bear,” then lowered your hand, moved it slightly and traced again, “Little bear.” A soft smile crossed your face, you always thought of those as you and Peter, you followed him around mimicking his antidotes and sidekicking every bit of the way. 

You moved in closer to Peter and turned halfway to rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him from your eyes you shuffled in deeper. 

“Tell me all about the ones you know.” 

And he did, he took you through each one slowly, sometimes picking your hand up to point at them and trace the lines so you knew exactly what he was talking about. Peter spoke quietly and calmly, you were the only ones in the room but it still felt extremely private, this was a moment for you and him only. 

“This one is Apus, the bird of paradise. This one is supposed to be the beak, and this one is the tail. And this one is Ara, it’s an altar that was used by Gods before battle with the Titans to vow their allegiance.” He traced the outline and you stared in awe. 

“And this one here is Aquila,” 

“It looks like an eagle.” 

“It is! Look at you, smartie.” 

“He was the retriever of Zeus’s thunderbolts.” 

“Oh! And look at this one here, this one is really cool. It’s Antlia, and it’s my favorite because it literally translates to-” 

You stopped him with a kiss. 

It was slow, you moved against each other for a minute or two. You weren’t all over each other, it wasn’t full of passion and heat. It was a kiss that meant more than that, it was trust, it was giving, it was kind. It was love, you both felt it. 

“Air pump. It translates to air pump.” 

His first words when you broke away, his eyes blinked open slowly and he looked towards you. You couldn’t help yourself and lent in for one more, it was shorter. Just a little longer than a peck. 

“What was that for?” Peter was breathless, he wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting anything like that for a while. 

“Because I think you’re lovely.” 

“That's funny, because I think you’re lovelier.” 

You frowned for a moment, you didn’t feel lovely. 

The past week you’ve done a lot of reflecting. You hadn’t been kind, or nice, or patient with Peter like he’s been with you. Instead you’ve been bitter, mean, and miserable. It wasn’t right, if you love someone you don’t treat them like that. 

“I’m not. Or at least I haven’t been. And, I’m sorry too, by the way.” 

“Sorry for what?” 

“Being the worst. I was so caught up in being hurt and mad at you I forgot you were hurting too. I think I forgot that even though you might have ended it, it hurt you too. And I’m sure I made it worse for you because I took all my hurt and anger out on you, I never should’ve said all those things. I should’ve never said I hate you, that was low and dirty of me. I don’t hate you, at all. I don’t think I ever could, actually. I just wanted to make you hurt like I did, but it made me feel worse because you didn’t deserve that. So, I’m sorry.” 

You blinked back tears, it was a good night so far and you didn’t want to ruin it with waterworks. 

“Oh, baby. C’mere.” Peter held you into him and kissed the top of your head. 

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it, and it sucked but I get why you did it. You just wanted to make it even, doesn’t make it right but you needed to work through it. Just promise me you’ll never say it again, I don’t know if I can handle that again.” He pinched at your side and smiled when he made you giggle. 

“Deal.” You kissed his cheek and breathed in his neck, you missed his smell. 

“I missed you calling me that.” Your words were muffled, a vulnerable admission. 

“What, baby?” You nodded in his neck. 

“I can start doing it again, it’s yours anyways.” 

“I’d like that, Petey.” You smile pulling away.

Peter slapped a hand over his chest. “Be still, my heart.” 

“I thought you hated that nickname?” 

“I did. Until I didn’t hear it for four months.” 

You giggled and looked at the stars once more. It was a perfect night, but you couldn’t help but think about how many nights like this you’ve missed out on since things ended. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Peter picked your hand up and kissed the back of it. 

“Anything.” 

“Why did you end it?” 

Lips froze on your hand. It was obvious he wasn’t expecting that. 

“Baby, listen to me. Tonight was a good night, right?” 

You nodded. “The best.” 

“I don’t want to ruin tonight, and I’m not saying you are. I would be. We’ll talk about it, I promise. But I don’t want to tonight, is that okay?” 

“You would ruin the night?” 

“It’s hard for me to talk about it. No one knows the full story, and you’ll be the only one who gets it. I just don’t want to open that door tonight. Is that okay?” 

You wanted to ask why it was hard for him to talk about it, and why he never told anyone the real reason, but that would defeat the purpose of him not wanting to talk about it. 

“That’s okay. We’ve got nothing but time.” 

Peter looked at you for a second soaking your words in. 

“You sure?” 

You kissed him once more, a promise. 

“Positive. Now tell me which one that is.”

—————————————————

The next two weeks went by slowly, you never did get that reasoning. It wasn't an omission on Peter’s part but you’ve both been busy doing other things and it hasn’t really crossed your mind, and the times it did it didn’t feel like the right time to bring it up again. 

You slowly started to integrate your life back with Peter’s. 

It started with sitting with him, Ned and MJ at lunch, Betty too when she wasn’t in the TV room piecing together her next segment for the morning announcements. Then Peter started walking to class with you holding your books or backpack when it got too heavy, and then finally you let him sit next to you in shared classes again. 

“Psst. Peter.” 

He kept his eyes on the board trying to copy down the words from the slide before they disappeared, this teacher changed slides too quickly. You were trying to copy the last slide from his paper but his arm blocked off part of what you needed. 

“Peter.” You whispered again but he kept going, to be fair he did have a headphone in. He was having a bad sense day, everything was just a bit too much for him, which is why he’s been clinging to you all day. For whatever reason you always calmed it down for him, sometimes you made it worse when things were getting a bit too physical, but usually you calmed him. 

“Babe?” 

His head whipped to yours, that's the first time you’ve dropped that line on him. 

“Yes?” 

You pointed at your sheet where it dropped off and pouted, “Help.” 

He immediately moved his arm and pushed his paper towards you a bit more and watched as you scratched down his notes, someone coughed and his ears rang, then again, and again. He started to shake his leg, then someone started to sniffle, it felt like it was in his head. Without pausing you wrapped your left arm around his elbow and scribbled a bit faster, if he was focusing on something it made it a little easier. His foot stopped instantly, and the noises became more muffled. 

“All done. Thanks.” You pushed it back his way but kept your arm around his, he wouldn’t ask for it but you knew he needed it. 

“Anytime.” You know he means it. 

After the bell rang he stood pushing things in his backpack, you did the same and lingered for a moment, he grabbed your hand and walked with you out the classroom. 

“Would you like to go on a date tonight?” 

It was a Friday and last week he had taken you to the Zoo, it was becoming a weekly habit. Part of him trying to win you back, not that you would tell him but you think he already has. The point of this was to take it slow, you both know how this is going to end so there’s no rush. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“I don’t know, I was thinking I’d leave it up to you. Your turn to choose.” 

“Your house? We can have a sleepover and do movies, maybe you’ll let me do a face mask with you to put you back in my good graces.” You teased him lightly, he always gave pushback when you tried to do spa nights, but he would always give in without much of a fight. 

“Shh, be quiet. I don’t need people thinking I’m a softie doing spa nights with my girl.” He teased back, as if he would care if people thought he was softie. He was the biggest softie around you and that’s one of the things you loved most. 

“Your girl? Who, me?” You looked around and smiled when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tucked you into his side. 

“Of course, you. Who else could I want?” 

Later that evening you found yourself at the Parker household but it wasn’t so quiet this time, May was humming in the kitchen and upon you walking in she screamed and pushed Peter to the side. 

“Hugs, hugs! Peter move, let me at her!” 

May wrapped her arms around you in a vice grip scared you’d run away if she let go, she missed having you around the house. Peter had a pep in his step when he was with you but since things ended he’s been more melancholy and quiet, it doesn’t help that May has been berating him too. 

When he walked in after ended it with you she knew immediately something was wrong. She asked him outright, “What happened? What did you do, Peter? Please don’t tell me you did something stupid.” He did. He did do something stupid and admitted to it after sobbing into his aunt's arm for an hour.  

She waited two weeks before she started in on him, like at the store, “I have a feeling I need to get strawberry ice cream, but I can’t remember who for. Was it that girl that came around before you broke her heart?” And Peter would heavily sigh, “Yes, May. That’s her.” 

She just missed having you around, and seeing Peter so happy. 

“What are you doing here? Oh my gosh!” May was beaming looking between you and her nephew. 

“Well,” You looked to Peter and rested your hand on your stomach.

May let out a gasp, “Peter, I swear to god if you got her pregnant!” Even though Peter knows that's not the case he takes a step back for extra measure. 

“Ew! God no. I wouldn’t let him touch me like that, May. He’s gross.” 

“Hey!” A whine.

“We were paired for a project at school and started hanging out again.” You smiled at May, you missed her as much as she did you. 

“And you’re hanging out here?” May pointed at the floor, she can’t believe after a school project things were fine. 

You nod. “Yes. Peter is trying to win me back, it’s date night. He let me choose and I wanted to have a sleepover, I even talked him into a spa night!” 

Peter’s eyes lit up, you were letting him put the pieces back into place.

“Date night? Since when is there a designated date night?” May was sputtering. 

You look at Peter and think back, his face helping you form an answer. “Three weeks?” 

Peter nods. 

May’s jaw dropped, her nephew mentioned nothing of this. At all. 

“Peter! What the fuck!” 

He jumped, “What?” 

“What is right! You’ve been taking her out without me knowing? Why?!” May was in shock, she knows Peter knows how much she’s missed you, she bullies him every chance she gets. 

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged but did know why, and May knew that too. She just stared at him with that mom look and he looked at the ground and continued before looking at you. 

“I know you missed her, May. I wasn’t sure how this would go, I still don’t. It’s not my decision at the end, I didn’t want to get you all excited just to tell you I failed.” 

‘Peter.’ You mouthed the words, he shook his head subtly. You caught it, it meant ‘not now.’

May let out a breath and slapped her hands on her pants. “Okay, that’s fair. You should’ve given me a warning before you let her in though, I nearly had a heart attack.” 

“And you my dear,” She spun to you and wiggled in joy once more, still amazed you were truly in the room, here for a rekindling. 

“Are more than welcome to stay the night! Do you have dinner plans, or any plans at all? I’m about to leave for work, is there anything either of you need?” 

“Thanks, May! Peter’s cooking for me tonight, he said he got a new recipe.” 

Peter cut off May’s impressed look, “It’s just a restaurant copycat, May. I’ve just never made it for her before.” 

“Is that why you got so many tomatoes at the store? Are you making your own tomato sauce!” 

“Oh my god, Peter.” You whined out at him, he cut his gaze towards you and grinned. He was down bad. 

“You’re making homemade sauce? That is so cute, c’mere.” You tugged at him for a side hug, not missing the way May’s eyes gleamed. 

“Well, I just cleaned the kitchen so it’s up to the chef now.” She throws a wink at her nephew, “It is so nice having some sunshine back in the apartment, I’ll see you both in the morning. Good night!” May placed a kiss to each of your foreheads and made a final goodbye at the door, you heard the click where she locked it on the outside. 

You were alone and excited, you didn’t plan on anything happening tonight and sure, you definitely missed Peter in that way, but seeing him so domestic you wanted to lay him down flat and make him a mess. 

He had changed into sweatpants, baby yoda printed socks poked out, and his white tee. You think he did it on purpose, he didn’t act like he did but he has to know what he’s doing. It seemed just a bit too tight, like he hadn’t worn it in a while and it just came out the dryer, it was snug across his chest and constricted around his biceps that flexed at every subtle movement of him mixing a pot of red. 

“I regret my choice for date night.” 

“Oh?” He looked sad, “We can do something else, what did you have in mind?” 

“Oh no, I am very much enjoying what I’m seeing. That’s the issue, Mr. Parker.” 

“That doesn’t seem like much of an issue to me, dear.” 

His back was turned to you again, he spoke a little louder to make up for his echo towards the stove. You were sitting on the kitchen counter next to the sink, feet swaying and slightly kicking the cabinet, if it was a few months ago Peter would scold you for kicking them. He would tell you May would beat you up and then he would have to beat May up for doing so, and then he would grab at your knees and stop them while he squeezed and you would laugh trying to peel his hands off. 

Tonight he was letting you get away with it, he’s been letting you do that recently. Small things that would’ve pushed him in the past didn’t get to him, or he was allowing it to happen so he didn’t push you too far with scolding. You chewed your bottom lip and watched him, he had a white rag thrown over his shoulder. You peered down to your right and saw the cheese grater and plate, he even was grating fresh cheese, he was going all out for you tonight. 

“I think it needs more oregano, or pepper. It’s missing something, what do you think?” He licked the corner of his mouth for any extra tomato sauce, his face scrunched in concentration. Peter held his hand under the wooden spoon lightly blowing on it before raising it to your mouth, you smacked your lips a few times getting a taste, “Add a little salt, then let me try again.” 

He nodded and you watched him add more of the flaked salt, then returned with another cooled mouthful. “Mm, I think you were right. It’s really yummy though.” Peter smiled and patted your knee, “Thank you, baby.” Your heart gushed and you yearned for a kiss, the rules were weird. You weren’t together yet, choosing to really make sure you can trust him. But, you also weren’t not together, he was taking you on dates, and doting, and really, really trying. 

You were dating, that was clear. And people who go on regular dates kiss, right? Not to mention you were dating for almost two years, you’ve kissed before. It wouldn’t be weird at all, and it hasn’t been. Each peck you’ve given had a hidden layer of lust, each time you met it was harder to pull away. Part of you was nervous for tonight, you were scared you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. 

Especially when sharing a bed.

Gathering courage you slid to your feet feather light, you stood behind him for a moment before leaning in, sticking your nose in the crease of his armpit. “Hi,” He turned his neck to glance at you for a moment before turning his head back, “Hi, baby.” You moved to lay your cheek on his shoulder blade, hands coming around his chest and pressing into him, “You’re warm,” your words were slightly muffled from a squished cheek. 

“You light a fire in me, what can I say?” 

“Gross, you’re cheesy.” You moved to pull away but he caught your hands and held his against yours to hold them there, he was asking for an extra cuddle. You gave in, bear hugging his back, you squeezed tight, “Can we go out for ice cream after dinner?” 

“Anything you want.” 

“Anything I want, huh?” 

He hummed. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

“Shoot.” 

“Kiss?” 

Peter turned in your hold, “Pretty girl, you never have to ask for a kiss. Now, c’mere.” 

He leant to kiss you, his thumb rubbing at your cheek made you dizzy. It was luring you into a trap, you didn’t care. Peter broke first, “Good?” You blinked your eyes open slowly, “Another,” He gave you one more, you held on for a moment longer, he broke away again, he leaned away trying to find space, he needed to stir his sauce, it was almost at a simmer. 

You followed his mouth, a peck, “Baby,” another peck, “I gotta stir,” another, “Baby,” he laughed and drew his head back, you kissed his chin. “One more for good measure,” He rolled his eyes, but did it regardless, both hands cupping your face he squashed your lips in a playful kiss, pulling back with an animated pucker sound. 

“Now get back, menace.” 

Peter was finally able to focus on the main part of the dish, he flattened the protein with a tenderizer and started to grate the cheese. You wondered if it would be the wrong time to bring it up again, the ‘why’ question. 

“Is it a bad time to bring it up?” 

He paused for a split second, his focus reminded on the sharp grater. You watched the parmesan fall like snow. 

“You won’t be my girlfriend until I tell you.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was rhetorical. 

“No, I don’t think I will.” It was a sad smile. 

“The thing I’m scared of is,” He rolled the wrapping on the cheese down a bit further then started to grate again, “ that you won’t want to be my girlfriend once I tell you.” 

“Will I be mad?” 

“I think it’s more disappointment.” 

“Is it worse than breaking up with me?” 

“I,” He paused and knocked the extra cheese off the grater and leveled the bowl. He started once more, “I don’t know.” He looked at you and sighed. “I don’t want you to hate me.” 

“Is it that bad?” You can’t think of something that extreme, something only you and him would share. It was obviously extremely personal. 

Peter stopped and moved to his left to stand between your thighs, one hand resting above your knee. He tapped his thumb and thought of his words, how he would tell the story looking at you. 

“I uh, I got in a fight?”

He sounded unsure, you don’t think it was a lie but you question the choice of words.  

“When?” 

“A week before I ended it.” 

“Why?” A whisper. 

Peter bent his bottom lip with a nibble, he looked to the side and you saw moisture prick at the edges of his eyes. He shrugged, his voice cracked when he looked back at you. 

“You.” 

“Me?” 

“I, uh. It was, well I don’t. I just, I can’t right now. I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

You knew it was a bad time, and you get what he meant at the planetarium, it was a mood killer.  

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore tonight, Petey. Let’s drop it and forget it for now, we can unpack this later. Right now I just want to eat your yummy dinner and cuddle on the couch with a movie, is that alright with you?” 

“You sure?” 

“Positive. Give me a kiss, chef.” 

After dinner, which was delicious, you even ate scraps off Peter’s plate and then shoved yours into his chest and requested seconds that had him hopping to his own beat to the kitchen. Then dessert, which ended up with both of you choosing to swap ice cream for homemade cookies. 

Then you forced him to lay his head back into your lap while you applied a goopy paste that covered his face gray. 

“It’s cold” He whined  

“Cold is good, it shrinks your pores.” 

“My what?” 

You rolled your eyes, “it makes you look younger.” 

“I’m already baby faced, get it off!” 

When his phone timer went off you both tread into his bathroom to remove it, the space was slightly too small for two, both of you constantly bumping hips. 

“Get away from me, stinky.” Peter pulled into the corner while giving his chin circular motions after you scolded him for dragging his skin down. 

“If you want to shower with me just say so.” You winked at him in the mirror, you patted a towel on your face to remove any leftover moisture then waited to hand it off to Peter once he rinsed his own off.  

“That’s gross.” He still tore it from your hands and patted his own, softer after you screamed “Gentle!” 

“What is, the face mask?” 

“No, sharing a towel.” 

You pulled a neutral face, “Wait until you find out about all the other things we’ve shared.” 

“Is that a sexual innuendo? I’m calling HR.” 

A yawn exchange was currently in place, you started it. Then Peter gave one, then you copied, and because you yawned he did, you opened your mouth to rinse and repeat when he pushed your face to the side with his hand. 

“Stop it, go to bed.” His voice was teasing, “You stuffed me! I’m being lulled to sleep in the comfort of your arms.” 

You had both started on opposite sides of the couch, then you shifted to the middle, then stretched your legs out on his lap and he lightly scratched at your shins. Then halfway through the first movie you swapped so his fingers were scratching at your scalp. And somewhere between a bathroom break and the start of the second movie you sauntered back over to the couch but on Peter’s half. 

“Open sesame.” You made a parting motion at his crossed arms. 

He opened and dropped his arms like dead weight and watched as you pulled them in whatever position you liked, you finally settled on laying with your butt against his hip, one arm was crossed under your head as a pillow and the other was thrown over your chest. 

“Finished fluffing me?” 

“This pillow talks too much.” 

You both stayed like that for a movie and a half, Peter had to pee so bad his eyes were watering but he refused to break the cuddles. He never, ever wanted to leave your side again. 

“Go to bed, it’s okay.” He watched you wiggle up with a stretch. You picked up the soft throw blanket to follow in with you, you blinked at Peter and waited for him to rise. When he didn’t move you poked his shin with a toe, “Are you coming or staying up?” His eyebrows stretched, “You want me to come? I was prepared to crash in May’s.” 

“You think I chose a sleepover to sleep alone? Rude.” 

“No! I just didn’t expect to share a bed. I know we’re in this inbetween stage, I didn’t want to rush anything.” 

“Well, I want to share a bed. So, share a bed we may.” 

Peter rose in an instant, clicking the TV off with the remote, darkness enveloped the room, you blinked to adjust Peter’s frame. He rested a hand on your lower back to guide you into his room. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

He sunk into bed and reset the pillows, his jaw dropped when you raised your shirt above your head and ripped off a sports bra. 

“Oh my god, boobs.” 

“What? These old things?” 

“Boobs. I see boobs right now.” 

You giggled and gave your chest a little shake, his head darted back and forth with the movement. It was like shaking a treat at a dog. 

“Last time you saw them you wanted nothing to do with em!” 

He shook his head, “That’s because you were drunk, someone had to make a good decision.” 

“I wasn’t that drunk, I still remember that whole night and gag when I think about it.” 

Peter kept trying to go between your face and chest, he was doing his best at looking at you, but you saw the subtle drop down and back up. 

“Wanna touch them?” 

He gasped and his face lit up. 

“For real?” 

“For real.” 

Peter made grabby hands, and kissing sounds. You laughed at his childish demeanor and kneeled on his bed, chest in his face. 

“This is so much better than Christmas.” 

He chewed his bottom lip. 

“I’m gonna touch them.” 

“Go ahead.” You pushed your chest forward. 

“Like right now.” 

“I’m wondering why you haven’t.” 

“I’m waiting for you to say, “just kidding, you’re a perv.””

“Not gonna happen.” 

“Okay then, I’m grabbing them yiddies.” 

And he did, he grabbed one in each hand and jiggled, then giggled when they danced in his face.

You slapped his hands away, “oh my god, I didn’t think you would actually do it, you perv!” 

His face dropped with his hands, until he saw your smile. “Menace.” He grabbed them again, then couldn’t help himself. 

Mesmerized, his words were filled with filth despite the innocence of his words.

“So pretty, baby.” So soft, so quiet. 

Only for your ears.  

“Says you, handsome.” Just as private as his, he shook his head, almost disappointed that you didn’t get it. 

“Are you sure you wanna cover these back up?” He moved his hands to watch them bounce one more time before you slapped them off, pushing off the bed to slide your shirt back over.

Crawling back into bed next to him you moved to cuddle him, leg thrown over his hip, hand tracing his chest while your head rested on his quick heartbeat. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Uh oh.” He twirled his finger around your hair. 

“It’s nothing bad! I swear.” 

This is pillowtalk. Peter loves and misses pillowtalk. 

“Alright, run it by me.” 

“Sex. Thoughts, opinions, ideology?” 

“Sex good.” 

“So insightful, that will be quoted in years to come.” 

“Why are you asking me about sex?” 

“This isn’t asking me things, time, it’s me asking you things, time.” 

He stayed silent, he wouldn’t respond to you without an answer. When he acted dominating it was always a rush. 

“Uh! I guess I mean, ya know.” 

He truly didn’t know, but if he knows you, and he does, he had to take a guess. 

“You want to know if I want to have sex with you?” 

“You don’t have to say it like that.” You muffled the words in his shirt. 

Why were you so coy? 

He laughed, “Baby, I don’t think there’s another way to say that.” 

You waited, he didn’t answer. 

“Well?” 

“Hm.” He poked your side, “You first.” 

You turned to his face with an open mouth, “No way! I asked you first.” 

He rolled his eyes. “No you didn’t, I had to guess what you were trying to ask.” 

“Same thing! You always know what I mean, that’s why you’re my boyfriend!” 

A pause, no one moved or said anything. 

“I mean, before you totally ruined everything and dumped me and now caused yourself to be in this period of space and time due to the choices you’ve made up to this point in life, which is why you are not my current boyfriend, but you were in a past timeline and a possible future timeline. Speaking of which, when you told May getting back together may fail what did you mean by that? You think I may not take you back, or this will end with us officially, officially ending it?”

Peter blinked slowly, that was so much at once.

“That was so much at once.” 

You looked around the room, word vomit was always a bad habit of yours. And usually with Peter, he had a way of getting you to spill your guts. 

“I appreciate the clarification on the boyfriend status, but you didn’t have to be so brutal, damn.” He took a breath, “Second, I am trying to win you back, not the other way around. You already have me, so when I say this may fail, I mean it. At the end of the day, you have final say and I really may have ruined this for real.” 

“I panicked.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh.

“I know you did.” 

“I know what I can say back to that.” 

“What’s that?” 

“You’re not my boyfriend.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” 

“Yet.” 

“Oh, word?” He held up his hand for a fist bump.

“Word.” You tapped knuckles. 

“Now, what was that about wanting to rattle my bones?” 

You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god, just say fuck.” 

“I have never said fuck in that context, it’s dirty.” 

“Peter! Sex is dirty, and that’s okay. Just say it, c’mon.” 

“Not happening, it makes me feel weird. I feel like I got a pass from my parents to cuss one time, and it doesn’t feel right.” 

“Peter if you don’t say you want to fuck me right now, I will give you a purple nurple.” 

“I would love to, fu- Nope, not happening, it’s wrong.” 

“Of course it’s wrong, don’t be nice!” 

“I am nice! That's all I have, unlike you! Menace.” 

“That’s toxic, now say it with your chest. “I wanna fuck you.” Just like that.” 

“I wanna… you.” He turned his head and mumbled the middle part.

“You wanna do what?”

“Fu..” He mumbled the rest and coughed in his fist, cheeks pink. 

“One more time, I know you’ve got it in you.” 

He groaned and tugged at his curls, “Nope, moment is over. Not happening, not my fault you couldn’t hear me.” 

“Ugh, fine.” You pulled away from him to get one last bathroom trip in, then jumped into bed and laughed when Peter held his arms out like he could steady the bed. 

That’s something he would’ve scolded you for, he stayed silent. 

On the brink of total slumber Peter whispered in your ear, he was currently holding you from behind, his arms wrapped around you and he was pressed against you. 

“Can I be little spoon?” 

You throw his arm off you and turn around, his face right in yours. 

“Of course I can jetpack!” 

Then you press a chaste kiss to his mouth, you pull back before he can register. 

“Goodnight, Petey.” 

—---------------------------------------------

Why was everyone looking at you?

It felt like a movie, walking into school everyone had turned their head and watched you. 

It was a dream, it had to be. Maybe you forgot pants, nope, you have pants on. Maybe someone buzzed your hair off, nope, every hair was still there. Maybe it was someone behind you, nope, just you. 

You were beginning to feel self conscious, the pressure was on for no reason. 

Why was everyone looking at you? 

Oh. That’s why. 

Every single locker in the senior hall had a post it note.

Each square is a different color. 

Each had the same words. 

“Peter loves Y/N.” 

You slowly walked the halls in awe, looping around to see that he had actually put one on each cage of blue metal. 

Every locker had his declaration of his love, except for yours. 

No, your’s was an entire collage, canary yellow post its covered the entire thing, only your combination lock was visabile. In bright red, boldly written across, “I LOVE YOU.” Over, and over, and over again. 

MJ approached your locker and nodded her head impressed, she always told Peter actions speak louder than words, looks like he finally listened. 

Unable to break your gaze away for more than two seconds you glance at her and look back at what you consider an art piece. 

“Be honest,” You look at her once more, “Do you think he loves me?” 

And she laughs, a rare full body shake laugh. You can’t help but laugh with MJ, it was contagious. 

“If he does, he doesn't show it well.” 

You sigh and look around the hallway once more. 

“Yeah, it’s really hard to tell.” 

———————————————

“There’s my little artist!” You kiss your fingers at Peter. 

“Is that a short joke? You know I’m sensitive.” 

“And you know you’re a short king.” 

You set your backpack on the lunch table before sitting next to him, and stare in awe. It was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever experienced, you would be reliving this moment forever. 

How could you not make him yours right now? 

“So you noticed?” 

You laugh, “I’m pretty sure everyone did. I think Mrs. Bender was jealous.” 

“Okay, you need to stop with the Mrs. Bender isn’t getting laid.” 

“Well, she shouldn’t act like she’s not getting dick.” 

“But it’s okay when you do?” 

“That is so mean, you have no idea, you are so toxic to me.” 

“Am I wrong?” 

“Yes! I get dick!” 

“Oh yeah, from where?”

“I have hoes!” 

“Name five.” 

“Well, I have you.” 

Peter makes a buzz noise, “It’s been almost five months, plus that was when we were dating. I can’t be a hoe if we’re dating.” 

“You can absolutely be a hoe while dating.” 

“Sure. Four more names, I’m waiting.” 

“I mean, there was this one guy.” You look to the side, oh, you were being truthful. 

Peter thinks it was that guy you talked about at the party with your friends. 

“Nathan?” 

“How did you know?” You look back at his face, nothing really happened and you felt the need to tell him that. Even though you were broken up you didn’t want him to think of you like that. 

“Lucky guess.” He winked. 

If he was bothered he was playing it off good. 

“It wasn’t what you think.” 

“What do you think, I think?” 

“That I fucked him.” 

Peter winced, he hated the word. So vulgar.

“I didn’t say that.” 

“Would it bother you if I did?” 

Why did you want him to be bothered by that? 

“I don’t know, which is why I don’t think about it. We were broken up, I can’t hold that over your head. But it doesn’t feel nice knowing someone else got to see and feel the same parts I did.” 

“Have you hooked up with someone else?” Sure, try and level the playing field. 

“Nope. I am untainted, I was a good little boy.” He grinned at you proudly. 

“Can I tell you about it? It isn’t super bad, but I will throw in a PG-13 warning, depictions of sex.” 

Peter grumbled. 

“If you gotta.” 

“I just don’t want you to think I’m a whore.” You nibbled on your lip. 

“Pause. I would never, and if that’s why you want to tell me, don’t. If you want to tell me to share that information with me, because you want to, then please do.” 

“He sucked. I swear.” 

Peter nods, but it still feels like you’re trying to make him feel better. 

“I was a little too drunk and he was all over me, and I really missed you and he was there. He didn’t even kiss me, he asked me to suck him off and I refused, then he said he would go down on me so I would suck his dick, then I don’t know what he was doing down there but I swear he was just pretending, Peter. I felt nothing.” 

“Then what?” He waited for you to continue after he took a bite from his turkey and wheat.

“I got up and left. I was so pissed at my friends for letting me go into that room with him.” 

“I should get you an ‘I survived’ medal.” 

You laughed and rested your forehead on his shoulder, nodding before looking at him. 

“Question?” 

“Whatcha what?” 

You blinked and looked at his mouth. He deserved a kiss, he made you the school’s star for the day, every one knew how much Peter Parker loved you. 

“Kissy?” 

He shook his head lightly. 

“What did I say about asking?” 

You shrug, innocence taking front place. You always got so shy when you confessed something to him. 

“I like it, it feels special.” 

“Okay then, ask me anytime you want a kiss.” 

“I want a kiss.” 

“Well, that’s more of a statement than a question, but I appreciate the enthusiasm, so come closer.” 

And you did, where he met you with a kiss. This one felt normal, it felt like home. It felt like every kiss you had before the break up, it was beginning to feel like it never happened and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

It sure did feel like a good thing though. 

“Hi cuties! Are we dating yet or still feeling it out?” Betty Brant broke up the kiss, Ned trailing in behind her with two lunch trays. 

“That line was so long, I am never doing Friday fish tacos again.” Ned sat down and wiped fake sweat from his forehead, his girlfriend sank next to him and pouted, “But I love Friday fish tacos.” 

Ned nods sternly. “I will be doing Friday fish tacos again.” 

Betty smiles and straightens her posture. 

“Dating?” 

Ned nods to you two turned into each other. 

“You look like a couple.” 

You wrap your hand around Peter’s arm. 

“Yeah, a couple of besties!” 

“Not the friendzone.” Peter’s voice is panicked. 

“Not dating?” Betty frowns, she is more invested in this than you thought. 

You smile at her for caring. “Not yet. I’m waiting for Peter to ask.” You bump your shoulder with his. 

Peter raises his head from his carrots, he crunches on one. 

“I don’t think I will.” You think he’s joking, but you quickly realize he’s not. 

“What do you mean?” 

He shrugs, “I think it would make more sense for you to ask me. I’m the one trying to win you back.” 

“Then ask?” You’re confused. 

“I feel like I already have, I’m just waiting on the yes.” 

Betty looks between you two frantically, Ned is busy assembling tacos. He’s used to these conversations between you two, he’s seen more than he can count. 

“But you haven’t asked since we started this.” 

“Okay, if I asked now would you say yes?” 

You chewed your lip. 

“I don’t know.” 

Peter raised his hand. 

“That is exactly why you should ask me.” 

“But that’s scary!” 

“You can do it, I believe in you.” 

“How about I tell you when I want you to ask me.” 

It’s almost the same thing. 

“No, I want you to ask me. I asked the first time.” 

“I don’t know how to ask you!” 

“Find a way, make it your way. There is no wrong or right way, just make sure you’re clear.” 

“Do you mean don’t accidentally say it like last weekend?” 

“There was a hint, yes.” 

You looked at Betty and winked. 

“What if I get down on one knee and ask?” 

“Okay. There is one wrong way.” 

“Super public too, maybe I’ll slide a twenty to the jumbotron camera guy at the Mets.” 

“Nightmare fuel.” Peter shuddered. 

Both you and Betty cracked up. 

—————————————-

May was shocked to see your face, yet again Peter has yet to fail to announce your presence. 

“Hi! What a surprise to see you again!” 

You melted into a hug, you spoke into her neck. 

“It’s a surprise for Peter too, I’m hoping for a surprise sleepover, I missed him a little too much tonight.” You whispered the last part, a little too much confession. 

“Always. Always, always welcome.” She placed a kiss on your temple and pulled you in. 

“Peter! Your girlfriends here!” 

“Yeah, Peter! Your girlfriends here!” You mimicked May’s words and shared a giggle. 

Peter emerged from his room, tugging up the zipper on his hoodie. His face went from shock to excitement, bouncing over to you. 

“Hi, handsome!” You held your hands out for a hug, his arms wrapping around your middle and squeezing tight, he rocked you back and forth. You weren’t the only one missing him more than usual. 

He pulled back and tilted his head, before he could ask a question you beat him to the punch. May watched in silence, happy to see the moment take place. The moment you fell back in love, truly and fully. 

“Kiss?” You puckered and waited. 

“Course.” He leant in, you settled for the quick pecks. 

Peter looked over your outfit and put the pieces together.

“Sleepover?”

You nod with a grin, “Sleepover!” 

Your eyes widened, you whipped your head at May. 

“Please, please tell me you got more popcorn.” 

“Ultimate butter. And, strawberry ice cream.” She smiled at your immediate grin. 

“I’m home,” you wipe a fake tear from under your eye.

You turned your head back to Peter with a puppy dog look, batting your eyelashes and clasped your hands and twisted.  

“Petey,” You drew out the name. 

“Baby,” He tilted his tone. 

“Can you please make me some popcorn, pretty please.” 

“Be honest, did you come here for the popcorn?” It was supposed to be a joke. 

You scoff, “Don’t be ridiculous, I only came for you. I missed you, best friend.” 

“That’s cute.” Peter grinned at you and looked towards May who was currently melting. 

“You’re cute,” You turned your head to May, “Close your eyes, May. Peter’s gonna lay one on me.” 

You made grabby hands for his neck to bring him closer, “It better be a juicy one, May isn’t looking.” And she wasn't, she chose to walk away for a moment, leaving you both for a joyful reunion, even if it’s only been a few hours. 

You asked, Peter delivered. His kiss left your head spinning, you always wondered if he felt the same. He sometimes would leave you in such a head high you felt like you were in a daze. 

“Do you feel like that after a kiss?” You were so loopy you forgot to share what you were thinking.

“Like there’s nothing else like that feeling, it feels so warm and comforting. Like, it really feels like total love, and I swear you make me feel high sometimes, it’s like time stops.” 

“I know what you mean, it’s like no one else but us matters.” 

“You are the only thing that exists for me in that moment, and there is nowhere else I’d ever want to be.” 

Peter groaned, “Come on now, how am I supposed to follow that one up?” 

You grinned, “You can start with making me some popcorn.” 

—————————————

It was only a matter of time. 

Peter was already yours, all you had to do was ask. The only thing holding you back was the why. 

It had to happen soon, you would slip and you swore to yourself you wouldn’t be his girlfriend again until he tells you why you have to ask him to be yours once more. 

Winter break was taking place, and you were currently on Peter Parker's lap grinding down on fleece pajama pants while he was gripping at a breast kissing down your neck while you groaned and tug at his hair. 

There was absolutely nothing wrong with sharing personal wants with a person you desire. 

“Is that what you say to make yourself feel better about sucking my dick?”  

“Oh, so you can say that but not ‘I want to fuck you?’” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh my god, Peter.” 

Sex started a week or two after that last sleepover, it was getting cold and you begged for more warmth even when tucked into his side, and so you backed up into him, butt against his groin, that was normal. 

Except his hand was squashed down in the middle, so you dug one hand behind you trying to lift it out the way as you scooch, back, and back, and back, and oh, there it was. 

It was pressing harder into your back, you wondered if you should pull away, wake Peter up or see how far it would go if you fell into it casually. 

You rub, you grind, you feel Peter’s hand grab tightly at your hip to hold it steady. 

“Baby?” It was warning, his voice was dull and rough, you were the first thing out his mouth. 

“Yes?” It was a whisper, you knew what you were doing. He could hear that too. 

“Do you know what you’re doing?” His grip faltered under a hard pressed grind, he groaned and pressed your hip away. 

“Yes.” You grabbed at the hand on your waist and pulled it up your shirt, his cool hand sent chills up your chest. 

“You want me to take care of you?” The switch, from innocence to dominant, playful to serious. This was your Peter. 

“Please,” It was a whimper. 

“Just lay right there, I know what you want.” 

He started to press kisses down your neck disappearing below the sheets, kisses never stopped. 

And he did know what you wanted, he always did. 

Always, always, always. 

At that moment you only had one question. 

‘What’s the point of asking? He’s already mine anyways.’ 

Now, it was bleeding into day three of living at the Parkers, it had been like this accidently since winter break started. May had gone away for a work trip and Peter’s place became a crash pad, it was just one night, and then one more and it’s probably going to be one more tonight too. 

“Peter…” You sighed off the words, his kisses coming to a stop. 

He grinned up at you, and as lovely as this was you didn’t want to miss the parade down a couple blocks. 

“I want you to do something for me.”

His eyes widened, his voice in a soft hush. 

“Anything.” 

“Say, say you wanna fuck me,” 

Peter groaned and tossed you off his lap. 

“You could’ve just said you didn’t want to be late to the parade, but no.” 

“God you are so in tune with me, it’s such a turn on.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Butter me up now so I’ll give in and spend twelve bucks on a churro for you.” He waved you off and stood swapping pajamas for denim. 

“But they’re filled with chocolate, Peter!” 

“You’re lucky I love you.” He kissed your forehead and moved past you to look for a warmer jacket, his words lit a fire in you. 

It’s obvious he loves you and while you haven’t said the words back you know he knows you do too. He’s been more giving with the words of affection, each time felt like a secret. Like, of course he does but, he doesn’t have to share that with you. 

“Again,” He turns and tilts his head. 

“Kiss?” He approaches to peck at your forehead, you go to step back but let him place one more. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“Again.” You repeat the words. 

“Kiss?” You step back this time, “No, again.” 

His eyes brighten, “Oh, I love you.” 

You bite your bottom lip, “One more time?” 

“I love you!” He cheers the words and pulls a beanie on. 

“Peter,” You pause, you weren’t sure what he thought it would mean if you said it back. 

“I know, I know you do.” 

—--------------------------------

The parade was packed, there were rows of people pressed into the barricade. 

Mostly families, moms and dads and grandmas had babies and toddlers rested on shoulders or a hip so they could get a good glance at Santa when he rode by. Rows of streets were blocked off, each street off the main parade route was filled with food trucks and popup booths of home-made crafts. 

Peter and you strode hand in hand down each street, on one he bought you hot chocolate, which you shared. The next you got your churro, which you shared. One of the streets you passed a small canopy with homemade christmas tree ornaments, there was one in decorated ceramic. A delicate Lily of the Valley decorated the front and the year was painted in black and circled. 

It felt like the breath was knocked from you, you remembered the meaning when Peter gave you one, a return to happiness. There was no clearer message from the universe. 

“Babe?” You called out for your other half, who had slipped away looking for anything May would find special. 

“Yeah?” He was calling from the otherside, his head was stuck in a bin shuffling through miniature stuffed bears.

“C’mere. I found something.” 

You felt his hand press against your lower back, his chin sunk to your shoulder. 

“Look.” You raised the string and watched as it slowly twisted in the wind, his eyes staring until they lit with recognition. 

“Holy shit!” Peter reached his hand out to grab it, he had to feel it. It was real. 

“We have to get it, right?” Both of you spoke at the same time. 

You flushed pink, Peter grinned and poked your side. 

“Hey, man! How much is this one?” 

You watched and played with Peter’s gloves while he interacted with the man. He approached with a proud smile and a small black bag, he waved the receipt in his hand and stuck his hand out to yours. 

“Can I ask a question?” 

“You know, one of these days I’m going to ask that back.” 

“And I’ll answer just like you do.” 

“Yes, dear?” 

“Can I have a kiss?” 

“Oh, you.” He grumbled and pulled you in regardless, his nose was cold on your cheek, when you pulled away you rubbed your face against it to help warm it up some. 

“Can I tell you something?” 

“Anything,” He was walking you forward, looking for the best view that didn’t take away from any kid's sight. You were enthralled with his hand in yours, scooting you by other strangers. 

“I know how I’m going to ask.” 

He turned his head back at you in question, pulling you to the side after checking it was a good spot. 

“Ask what, baby?” 

“How I’m going to ask you to be my boyfriend.” 

“If it includes you getting on one knee I’m gonna say no.” 

“What if I get on both?” 

Peter pointed to the church both of your backs were resting against, your grin dropped shyfully. 

“I didn’t mean it,” You mumbled to the building. 

“Yes she did.” Peter whispered back, you slapped him on the arm. 

“Okay then, how?” 

“I can’t tell you that!” You sputtered at him, it was like telling him his birthday present. 

“What? Then why would you tell me that?” 

“Because I wanted to let you know I knew how I was going to do it.” 

“Oh I see, you were too excited to keep it a true surprise but you also want it to be surprising enough you won’t give me any true details.” 

“Remember what I said about what a big turn on that is?” 

Peter looked back at the church and rolled his eyes. 

“Told you she wasn’t kidding.” 

—------------------------------------

“Okay, let’s get it out of the way so this can really get started.” 

Peter looked around confused, your voice came from nowhere. Where were you? 

“Over here, nerd.” 

You poked your head out from behind a street sign, and watched as Peter threw his head left and right until he spotted you, the whites on his mask widening then dropping, you knew he was full of smiles. 

“Hi, baby!” Peter looked behind him once more before dropping to the ground below him, you ran into an alleyway behind him, and checked to see him slowly creep in behind you. 

“Kiss?” When he finally approached, he turned his head to check behind him and shook his head solemnly. 

“I don’t think so, baby.” 

You frown. Peter never refused a kiss request, in the suit or out. And, if you were far from the street, a quick kiss wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

“Why not? My lips are so cold, I forgot my boyfriend’s jacket.” You winked then corrected yourself, “I mean, my friend that is a boy.” 

“I, uh,” He looked around once more then quickly stepped up to you, he pulled his mask just barely above his nose then leaned in. You were unable to even press back into the kiss before he stepped away and returned his mask to a normal position, then he looked above him quickly. 

“Is everything okay?” You follow his eyesight and look around with him. 

“Yeah! Are you okay?” 

“I’m okay, are you sure you’re okay?” 

You watched as he kept looking around, he was almost acting like he was about to get caught doing something he shouldn’t. 

“Are you cheating on me?” He missed the tilt in your voice, just teasing. 

Peter whipped his head back at you, he started to pull at his mask but stopped himself and sunk it tightly back on his face. 

“What? No, not at all.” 

“You look like you’re about to get caught with me,” You poke at his chest and he steps back some, he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in your eyes. 

This was the first time you’ve approached him as Spider-Man since the break up, Peter has tried everything possible to keep you away as the masked hero, and you hadn't noticed. Until now, because now you begin to wonder if this was why. 

Peter was acting awkward, and he never did around you. Around you, Peter was methodical, confident, suave and in love. Right now it seemed like he wanted you gone. 

“I mean, maybe. You never know who’s watching, I don’t need the media on the case of Spider-Man’s secret girlfriend.” 

You frown once more, you can’t press on it now. He would try and back himself into a corner where nothing was wrong, then that would cause him anxiety because he’s lying and you know how much he hates backtracking after a lie. 

“Do you want me to leave? We can talk later.” You question him and go to place your hands around his biceps but pull back halfway through, you caught the hint, he didn’t want you all over him right now. 

Peter caught your hands and pulled him then to rest on his chest. 

“You can touch me, baby.” He chuckled slightly, but you caught the nerves in his voice. 

“Give me a kiss and I’ll leave?” You blinked at your boy, he shook his head lightly. 

“You said you wanted to talk about something, what’s up?” 

“It’s okay, it doesn’t seem like you want me here right now.” Really, it was okay.

You know Peter is frowning behind his mask. 

“Of course I want you here, tell me what’s going on?” 

You moved your hands to his shoulders and gave a squeeze, then moved your head to look around. You didn’t get why he was on edge, but you respected it. 

Upon realizing no one was in the area you stepped in for a hug, immediately filled with warmth the shocking breeze seemed to dull outside. Winter break was ending soon and coming back to school with ‘I got a boyfriend for Christmas, what about you?’ seemed like the biggest flex imaginable. 

Instantly, Peter had his hands wrapped around your back. You felt the slight groove of his gloves running up and down your back, he leant his head into yours and you know if his mask was off he would be pressing kisses to the top of your head. 

After squeezing tightly one last time you pulled away and smiled brightly at him. 

“How much longer will you be out here?” 

“Probably a few more hours, I’ll be home around dinner.” He starts to slightly scratch down your arms. 

“Wanna go out?” 

You hum, “We can, I wanna talk to you first, though.” 

“Everything good?” He was asking if he was in trouble. 

“Yeah! Kiss?” 

“Tell me what’s up first.” He was bartering, he was on edge now. 

“Hm, nope. I’ll see you later, babe. Kiss?” 

“Are you mad?” He meant because you caught onto him not wanting you here. 

“Not at all, if it’s okay with you I was gonna head to yours and get a nap in before I see you later.” 

“Course it is. Need a key?” You gave yours back after the break up. 

“May’s not home still?” 

He shook his head, “Weather pushed back the flight, because of the ice she’s not sure when she’ll be back.” 

“Boo, key please.” You held out your hand and opened and closed it quickly, begging for the key. 

“Hold on, baby.” Peter stepped away and jumped halfway up the wall peeling off his backpack from behind a ledge, then turned to make sure you were looking. He started to lightly swing it your way letting you know he was about to toss it down, you readed your hands and yelled “Hut!” before he dropped it at you. 

You caught it with a grunt, then unzipped the small outer pocket and stuck your hand in searching for the key, startled you kept your hand in the same position as it was before Peter, quite literally ripped it from your hands. 

“Sorry! I have something in here you can’t see yet.”

He pushed the key in your hand and closed your fist around it. 

“Here, sorry again, baby.” 

You narrowed your eyes, “You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

“You’re cuter, otherwise I wouldn’t put up with that attitude.” You caught a wink through the mask. 

“Toxic. Give me a kiss, and make it a real one.” 

“As opposed to a fake one?” 

“You didn’t give me a good kiss earlier and you know it.” 

“Every kiss with you is a good kiss.” 

You whine at his flirting. 

“Please, Petey.” You pout, you know you’ve got him cornered. 

“Alright, c’mere.” He calls you closer with his hands and turns with his back to the street. 

“You wanna lift it or me?” 

You stare in awe, you missed pulling the mask off. 

“Me!” You tug it up past his lips, then roll it over his nose. But, at this point you might as well just take the whole thing off, right? Worth a try at least, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. His own hands wrap around your waist and pull you in tighter, you pull back slightly. 

“It’s rubbing my nose, hold on.” You tug it higher, and place one more kiss. 

Then you pull back again and slowly push it up, he tightens his grip but says nothing. 

This was one of those moments where he would scold you but was letting you get away with it, at this point you know it’s because he doesn’t want to mess anything up. You can’t help but wonder how long you can drag this out. 

In one movement you tug the entire thing off, “Hi, handsome.” 

“Hi,” He whispers. 

His curls framed his forehead nicely, you’ve been begging every week for him not to cut it. Your requests would soon be ignored, you knew Peter could only handle it so long before he chopped it. If you took a guess he would get it cut before school restarted, you only had one more week of his long hair. 

“I love your curls so much, please never cut them.” 

“I will absolutely cut them.” 

“One more week?” 

“You’re pushing it.” 

“For me?” 

“In that case, one more week.” 

“Thank you, babe.” 

You press a delicate kiss to his cheek and shiver slightly. 

“Can I have a kiss before I go?” 

He gives in, and it’s a nice kiss. You both lean in for a while before a sharp chill runs up your spine, you then decide it’s time to curl under his sheets and wait for him to come warm you up entirely. 

“I’m leaving, it’s cold.” 

You press his mask into his chest and lean in for one more kiss. 

“See you later.” 

“Wait! Can you take my bag?” He holds it out with a pleading smile, you tug it into your chest and contemplate tugging out his jacket and wrapping it around you. You could take the subway but despite the nips of cold you felt like walking, maybe so Peter knows you’ve gotten home safe. 

“Can I open it for your coat?” 

He said there was something in it you weren’t supposed to see yet, you would respect that. 

“Yeah, just please don’t go poking around the outside zipper.” 

“Got it, see you later!” 

You turned to leave, he called after you. 

“Bye, baby! Love you.” 

You didn’t think, it was automatic.

“Love you too!” 

You didn’t process what you said, it felt like second nature. 

Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe, he felt warm from inside out. From this point on nothing would get him down, the girl he loved with all his heart, the same girl that was hurt by him still loves him. He assumes he’s done it right, he finally thinks he may have won you back. 

You told Peter you wanted to talk, then said you loved him. 

Peter thinks he’s going to be a boyfriend before midnight hits. 

—------------------------

Time was ticking, you and Peter had been getting back into normal behavior, it felt as real as it did before the break up. And honestly, you kind of see it as a blessing. You don’t think you would’ve realized how much you mean to yourself if that’s all you didn’t have after he ended it. 

It hurt, alot. No one talks about how physical break ups can feel, you feel them in your gut. Stomach twisting at every end, like a small man is twisting knots in your intestines.  Then in your chest, the worst kind of heartburn alive eats at you, red searing hot pain that bleeds down through your body. It feels like every heart string is being pulled and snapped with each release. It affects your senses too, nothing sounds or tastes good anymore, at least not when Peter didn’t make or suggest it. Your eyes felt like there was nothing to focus on, your ears felt clogged, no one's words meant anything unless they were coming from Peter. You felt numb to the touch, so cold all the time, no one to warm you.

Heartbreak is something you would truly never wish on your worst enemy. 

But now, everything tastes just a little bit better. And your heart still hurts some, but it’s because it beats a bit faster when Peter’s around. And your stomach wasn’t filled with knots but flutters, not nerves but excitement. Your ears came attuned to listen for Peter’s hums or muffled songs under his breath, you listen for his late night whispers about what the writer’s should’ve done for that episode, or you listen to him lightly snore in the quiet hum of his room in the middle of the night because he’s there, and you’re there. And you’re not so cold anymore, chills still happen but it’s no longer a to the bone chill. It’s a, this is chilly, but I have someone to warm me backup at home. 

Peter felt like a constant hug. 

You’re pretty sure that’s love.

And if you loved him he should be your boyfriend, but to be your boyfriend again he needs to explain why it ended. You were slowly breaking down that wall, you’ve asked yourself for weeks now if it was that important, but you know it is. Because, why else have you held out so long?  

You don’t think in your heart everything could be forgiven without the why. 

That’s why you were here tonight. 

Peter came in around eight, for a moment you think he forgot you were here. He entered through the window, because you had his key. Then immediately ripped his mask off, slammed the button on his chest and kicked the suit away before groaning and stretched to the ceiling. 

“Hello, Clarise.” 

He jumped then smiled, “Hi, baby!” 

Peter looked over at you swaddled in his bed, now sitting his dark blue comforter swarming your body. Cheeks tinted due to the warmth but you refused to move, choosing to instead take sips of water from the bottle on his nightstand. 

“Good nap?” 

You hum and copy his stretch, “So good, did I get you those boxers?” You think they were a just thinking of you gift, they had little calculators on them. 

He looks down, “I think so, what did you do today, little miss?” 

You yawn, still blinking the sleep away. “I used your laptop for Netflix.” 

“Please don’t tell me you used my account.” 

“Of course I did, what’s yours is mine.” 

“You always mess up my recommendations, I just got it off of reality tv.” 

“And now it’s back.” 

Peter just blinked blankly at you. 

“I think it’s cute that you still had the passcode set to my birthday.” 

“Of course I did, they’re the only numbers burned into my brain.” 

“If you changed it I think I would’ve lost it, I mean full blown cry.” 

“Nope, if I got a new girlfriend I would have to come up with some cover story for that.” 

“You would let other girls use your Netflix?” You pout and wobble your lip. 

“I let you, don’t I?” Peter walks around the room and grabs his towel hanging on the other side of his closet door. 

“Well, yeah. But I’m special.” 

“If it makes you feel better, you would always be the one that got away. No girl could live up to that.” He shrugs and throws his towel over his shoulder. 

“And you would have to die alone?” 

“I would have to die alone.” 

“No other option?” 

“None.” 

You turn your head and nod, he’s great at winning the boyfriend tests. 

“Shower?” You nod at the towel, he starts to make his way to the bedroom door. 

“We can get food after, you decide.” 

“Cook, take out, or dine in?” 

“You choose.” He grins at you and turns to head to the bathroom.

“My choice?” You call after. 

“Yours.” 

You wait until you hear the shower start, then throw off the blankets and race down the hallway.

“I’m choosing a shower with Peter!” 

—-------------------------------------------

I wish it didn't make me cut it off here, don't worry, final part is coming!

[canarydarity]

(desert duo titanic (1997) au be upon ye. 4330 words. ao3) ((check tags for content warnings))

The most attractive part of the idea, Grian had thought, was that nobody would know what had happened to him. Not his mother, not his fiance, not a single socialite on this godforsaken boat—and then they’d wake up to find their lives would go on business as usual regardless. There would still be teas and luncheons to attend, they’d still dress for dinner—though in customary mourning black for at least a few months, if only to keep up appearances—and have the same dozen mindless conversations about things that would never really matter, and better yet, Grian wouldn’t have to be there for any of it. 

The air was nice up here, chilling but in a pleasant way. That was a good thought. It soothed the rush he’d felt on his way over, the panic of needing to get away fast and the train of thought that kept saying do it now before they follow. 

He didn’t remember the last time he was allowed to just take a breath; he didn’t remember the last time he was allowed to do anything without threat of penalization. 

Even this, he knew, was a punishable offense. He could certainly never expect freedom nor even an inch of space to spare if he failed. And if his mother’s god was to be believed, success, too, was a crime befitting discipline. Grian had since decided he’d rather take his chances on an eternity in hell than a lifetime in his family house.

Unlike the air, the ice-cold bone-piercing sting that was the metal railing sticking to his skin was the kind of cold that was so intense it, ironically, burned, and it did wonders to keep him firmly in his brain. It connected to each of his palms like a stubborn leech, like it was, in some roundabout way, telling him to not let go. But what were leeches good for if not bloodletting, and Grian had long since been bled dry—disconnect the only thing left to do. 

He peeled each of his hands off the railing one at a time, slowly, wincing at the pull of his skin and the carpet-burn like feeling of its breaking free. But he only opened and closed the palm of each hand a few times to restore feeling and heat before wrapping around the railing once more. 

He looked down. You know, he almost couldn't see the water at all. 

The darkness of night in the middle of the ocean bore nothing to reflect off of the water's surface, and the promise of emptiness for miles and miles and miles below was all too clear. He could only find where sky and sea met if he were really trying hard, and he’d found he didn't much care to do that. Grian kind of liked the idea of a vast black expanse stretching out before him, imagined himself letting go and not falling quickly down but just floating off into that tricky void. 

He leaned forward, letting his arms pull taut, forming some weird triangle between where they connected to the railing, the socket of his shoulder, and where his feet were planted on the small lip of the ship's deck. He could do it—he could. He could let go. 

He could.

Slowly, the skin of his hands worked to refreeze, fusing him once more to the boat's railing. Oddly, he focused in on the toe of his left shoe where he seems to have scuffed it against something in his haste to get here fast. He thought about how Mumbo was going to have to buff that out later and then re-shine them all over again, even though he did it before he dressed Grian for dinner and also sometime last night, joking about how Grian probably stubbed his toe on purpose just to spite him, and Grian had giggled and promised he’d be more careful to spare Mumbo’s poor hands. And then his mind recoiled, immediately, intensely, at the thought.

There would be no shoes for Mumbo to buff and shine. 

On instinct, his arms reeled him if only slightly back in, his right eye involuntarily tightened into a cringe. Grian shook his head, firm, trying to work back to worse thoughts, something else, something more fitting. No Mumbo—for where Grian currently was, Mumbo was firmly off limits. 

When that didn’t work, he shut his eyes tight and let out a harsh, determined deep breath; felt his brow furrow in concentration, his lips set into a thin stern line. He forced his arms to let him lean fully back out, more of his body over open water than ship. 

And then, from behind, someone called, “don’t do it.”

Grian startled, looked back over his shoulder at the stranger ready to shout something like well then don’t startle me the next time, what is wrong with you, but found instead on instinct what came out was, “Get away from me. Do not come any closer—don’t.” 

The man, who’d been nearly within arms length, hand reaching out like he’d been ready to grab for Grian’s wrist, paused immediately. 

He didn’t know what the man was taking from Grian’s expression—if the look on his face was more anger and annoyance, disbelief at his interruption, or alarm and a frantic sort of unease. He was certainly getting nothing of the stranger besides prolonged eye contact and the sense that calculations were being run. 

Whatever conclusion was come to, after a moment the stranger shook his head a little and jostled the hand he hadn’t pulled back towards him, almost like he was reaffirming its placement (as if either of them could forget). 

“Just give me your hand, it’ll be alright, promise. I’ll pull you back over!”

Grian tried to shuffle to the side but there was really nowhere to go; the skin of his hands was once again firmly cemented to the cold metal, and to his right at the very center of the ship's stern was a flagpole. 

“No,” he hissed, “I told you to back off. Stay back or I’ll—” Grian looked away from the stranger, felt in his throat that he must’ve been shouting to drown out the sound of the water coming back together after having been split by the large steamer, the propellers that were somewhere under the surface. He swallowed but the air had dried all the spit from his mouth, doing nothing to soothe the ache. “I’ll let go.” 

But the proposition was slipping from him, his peaceful nothing getting further away like it’d jumped a few minutes ago and was bobbing somewhere in the boat's wake, Grian failing to follow. The more time passed, the more Grian felt like he’d missed his chance—and the more urgent he felt to prove this was what he’d really wanted after all, even as uncertainty over the fact grew.

“No you won’t.”

Grian’s head snapped up, blinking in surprise, the need to process the audacity in the statement delaying the understanding of what had been said. He turned his head, glaring over his shoulder at the stranger, who, for his part, looked entirely too sure of himself and relaxed, hands in his pockets now and shoulders paused in a shrug. 

“What do you mean no I won’t—you don’t know me. Don’t you try to tell me what I will or won’t do!” 

Usually that was a sure fire way to convince Grian to do whatever it was he’d been instructed against. Mumbo knew that well, quick to follow up instructions with a don’t even think about it and reasoning why whatever he was considering was probably a terrible awful idea. But none of the usual fire infected him—spite at the statement had grown just fine, but follow through was different here than in situations of the usual kind. The stranger seemed to understand that. Grian frowned at him harder, teeth grinding together. 

“I just think that if you were going to, you would’ve done it already.” 

“Well you’re distracting me.” 

“That’s kind of the point.” 

The stranger's lips made the kind of smirk that turned down instead of up, a gentle tease that was so out of place for the location and the night and the situation as a whole. Grian’s own mouth hung open a little in shock of it all, his brain failing to produce whatever response was supposed to be offered. Under it all somewhere, he felt embarrassed, and that offense fueled the frustration. 

“Go away,” he said, not opening his mouth enough to separate his teeth, head trying to turn away, needing to focus his attention elsewhere, desperate for the feeling that he’d followed all the way to the ship's stern to come back, losing hope that it would. 

“No can do, unfortunately.” Hands in his pockets, the stranger waltzed a step or two forward, and Grian tried his best to lean away despite no move being made towards him and distance kept; all he did was bend at the waist, peek over the railing into the cold deep blackness. “Well, looks like if I can’t get you to come back over, I’m just going to have to join you.” 

“What?!” His breath puffed out ahead of him with the shriek, clouding his view momentarily, and Grian closed his eyes and shook his head like that’d restore his vision, or maybe jog some sense into the scene. “Are you insane!?”

The man was studying the railings, the slight curvature to the metal as it wound along the backside of the boat, his hand on his chin like there was a required technique other than stepping over one leg at a time. He stood up straight and rubbed his hands together, brought them to his mouth and breathed some warm air into them; then, inexplicably, he stopped to shrug off his coat. 

His coat tossed in a heap on the deck, he hoisted up onto the bottom rung of the railing and threw one leg over the top, hands clinging to what he could, and at that Grian could watch no longer. 

“No, stop—stop.” 

Their eyes met, and, to the strangers credit, he looked remarkably calm. The eye contact said more what’s the holdup than oh, thank god; his eyebrows were raised, his face paused waiting for whatever Grian was going to say next—all the composure of circumstances much more normal, situations where the consequences were far less severe. It would’ve worried Grian badly had he not also seen the way the stranger gripped the railing tightly, fingers turning colorless by use of force; the way his posture had gotten less lax by the second, casual hard to maintain. 

Something about it put things into perspective—Grian’s own breath picked up, his eyes growing wider by the second and the urge to not blink a bunch, rapidly, like in some odd number he’d find himself elsewhere, safer, getting harder to ignore. The dreadful realization of what have I done was familiar, but so was the stubborn pride that said bury it now before someone else finds out. 

In more comfortable circumstances, Grian would be willing to buckle down and insist that whatever it was was precisely what he meant to do—no matter how ridiculous. He didn’t have to break eye contact and remind himself of the view to know that wasn’t an option here—not unless he meant it, not unless he was going over. 

His torso began to tremble a little; the upper half, his chest, his shoulders. He couldn’t tell if it was the cold or the fear. 

“What are you doing?” It came out quieter than he meant it to. 

“Gotta be prepared to go in after you if you’re really doing it, don’t I?” 

“You’ll be killed.” 

“You don’t know that,” one of his shoulders went up in an approximation of a shrug—or as much of one as he could do considering his position and the need to not let go. “Besides, I'm a good swimmer!” 

Grian did actually, that was sort of the point of him being here. He couldn't tell if the stranger was grossly underestimating the danger or betting it all on the biggest bluff he’d ever heard—some combination of both. 

“Though, personally, I could do without the cold—I am not looking forward to that water. But it’s no matter! I am a gentleman, afterall.”

Carefully, he returned to movement, began the motion of swinging his second leg over the top rail, but Grian risked the removal of one hand to reach out and stop him, the skin of his palm delicate and raw ripping once again from the cold metal, the sound of its separation sickly as it permeated the air. 

The burn of it felt good, the feel of it like a kind of tether—another thing tying him to the deck and making sure he stayed there. 

He was supposed to say something, his hand gripping the thin cotton of the shirt on a stranger’s arm, its material rough against his already irritated palm, but, even here, Grian didn’t know how to give in and go back. 

The stranger spoke instead, unphased enough Grian could almost believe he hadn’t jumped in to save Grian from failing to do so himself—could choose to believe it, if he wanted. 

“I guess I’m sort of hoping you’ll let me off the hook.” 

It was hard to look elsewhere; like Grian’s hand on the railing—like his hand on the stranger—the eye contact was just another lifeline, something else that was doing what it could to hold him firmly in place. Of course, besides that fact, there was nothing else to look at; the sky and the sea were black black black. It was the stranger or nothing, and Grian was surprised and frightened to discover where his allegiance was seeming to lie. 

Because Grian could never just lose—not even when he didn’t want to win—he said, “you’re crazy,” a half-formed deflection that was mostly stolen by the wind, quieter than he should’ve said it to ensure he was heard over the commotion. 

The stranger leaned towards him, his face in some sort of wishy-washy wince, like he knew he was about to push his luck but couldn’t quite help himself anyway. “Says the guy hanging off the back of a ship. With all due respect, of course,” he tacked on at the end, taking in Grian’s stature, his clothes and altogether demeanor. 

Grian tried to swallow again and found his throat still dry as a bone. He choked at his first attempt of saying, “You first, I’ll follow.” 

The stranger nodded and made quick work of throwing his leg back over the railing, pausing only for a pointed glance at Grian’s hand, where he realized he’d have to let go of the stranger’s shirt for him to be able to complete the action. With nowhere else to put it, Grian wrapped it once again around the railing, finding himself much more frightened about the prospect of doing so than he’d been when he climbed over, the inch or so of metal not nearly enough to make him feel secure anymore. 

Grian’s eyes trailed over his shoulder, tried to keep the stranger in his sights and tried not to panic when he couldn’t. The darkness had gone from comforting to alarming, the nothingness from welcoming to just that—nothing, and at the sea Grian could no longer look. The urgency was beginning to return, but in a manner unexpected. He needed suddenly more than anything to be back on the deck, his feet firmly planted on the wood, that man-made and temporary replacement for land. 

Though unseen, the sound of the collision of water upon the ship persisted, almost enough to cover that of the stranger shuffling behind him, and on top of the lack of a sightline Grian’s nerves latched onto the idea that he could just be gone; leave Grian there to suffer the consequences of his actions, give him just enough sense to realize this idea was idiotic before sending him over regardless—rich bastard probably deserved it. What did Grian have to be miserable about, anyway? 

But like a life preserver on a line, that hand, the same one as before, reached out to him once more, coming back into Grian’s focus from his peripheral. It was like they’d started the whole scene started over, like a director had made them take things from the top. His hand trembling, trepidation in every part of the movement, Grian brought his right arm across his body and around to meet the stranger’s, the warmth of it scalding against Grian’s white-cold palm. Slowly, and not without help, he was turned back around. 

The stranger’s eyes were green.

“What’s your name?”

A chill racked Grian’s spine, the wind off the water beating against his back somehow worse than when he’d been facing it, the sight of the whole ship ahead of him—definitive proof that he was the person furthest to the stern out of anyone, passengers and crew and all—horrifying; he couldn’t imagine anything worse than if he went now, not falling into the black but falling away from the ship, nothing to do but watch it leave him behind. He was definitely passing his chill to the stranger, sharing the tremor between the two of them like splitting a piece of cake for dessert. 

Grian wanted to ask why it mattered. He said, “Grian,” instead. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Scar.”

Stripped of any excuse to hide it at this point and worn thin by the fear that’d been eating away at him by his own hand and without his knowledge, he near breathlessly whined, “just get me out of here, please.”

The stranger nodded and squeezed his hands. “Can do.”

Grian would never give control to an entity such as fate by believing in it, so he wouldn’t say that he’d tempted it by hanging where he was for so long, but he’d clearly tempted something—the darkness itself, perhaps—or at the very least pushed his luck to some limit, enough that he’d used it all up in his climbing over the first time and however long he’d stalled on the railing, enough so that, when it came time to reverse the action and climb back to safety, his dress shoe, slick against the metal, moist from the sea air, failed to find purchase and caused him to slip. 

He was falling—and then he wasn’t; with nothing beneath it to catch on, Grian’s foot was pulled down towards the sea by the strongarm of gravity, and where one went the other quickly followed, but a shout had barely ripped free from Grian’s throat before a mean tug upwards from his shoulder contested the force heading down. 

Scar, one hand still in Grian’s, the other wrapped tightly enough around his forearm that it hurt, stood with his middle braced against the railing. His green eyes were wide. His shoes shrieked against the deck where he tried to lean backwards to gain better leverage, take any small step away and pull with all his might, but he got little to nowhere. 

“Grian!” He shouted, “Grian, you’re going to have to pull yourself up!” 

His shouting was distant, the frantic look on his face—the gritted teeth and strewn from effort bunch to his cheeks—came from Grian’s vision to his brain separated, scattered; like he’d looked at them through frosted, mosaic glass. The hand that wasn’t being held half-heartedly reached to find the railing closest—the second rung from the bottom—but rather than grip it with force he could do nothing but get his fingers to curl around it. 

There was a part of him that would rather let go than risk failure in trying to pull himself up—that would rather die by his own choice than by something as stupid and ridiculous as hubris taking it upon itself to finish a suicide attempt he’d come to his senses in time to abandon. But, stubbornly prideful as Grian was, he hated giving up more than he hated to lose. 

He forced his mind to come back to himself—if not because he had to do something, then because Scar had not stopped doing something; seconds had passed with Grian as good as deadweight off the back of the ship, nearly unresponsive, and Scar had not ceased in trying to pull him up, even as his calls went unanswered. 

“C’mon, Grian,” Scar grit out, to himself more than to Grian it sounded, and Grian felt his hand tighten around the railing. He gave one small, experimental tug. His eyes met Scar’s.

“I’ve got you,” Scar said, as much of a nod as he could give without forgoing concentration. The confidence he’d worn the entire conversation hadn’t gone anywhere, the situation growing from concerning to dire doing nothing to damper his surety that he had this, and Grian wanted badly to believe that he did. “I’ve got you—I’m not going to let you go. Pull yourself up, that’s it.”

It took more strength than he’d ever really had the need to use to heave himself up enough to risk the jump to the next bar, and the entirety of his arm burned with the effort, the strain from the tugging on his shoulder from above only compiling. But where he did it once, he convinced himself he could do it again—needed himself to do it again, and with something between a grunt and some kind of yell he managed to leap another railing higher, climbing the back of the ship like some sort of pirate of legend. 

His feet re-found purchase on the deck, then the bottom-most rail as, finally within better reach, Scar let go of his forearm and wrapped his arm around Grian’s back, and between Grian’s crazed flurry of stepping up and up again and Scar’s lifting and leaning backwards, they reached a point where they were both more over boat than open water, and then tipped even further passed that until they collapsed backwards onto the deck. 

The first of safety Grian saw was the stars. There were more stars over the ocean than there were in the city. 

The sky looked a lot less empty now that Grian was looking up and not out, his back against something solid. He wondered if they’d been there the whole time and he just hadn’t looked for them. For the first time since he’d boarded the ship, he took a minute just to stare. 

His throat burned with each time it sucked air into his lungs and it burned as he hurled it back out, overexertion and adrenaline both fighting for some kind of control within him. 

The hand under him stretched and wiggled its fingers, pulled itself free, and Grian immediately lurched the other way himself, turning to look at Scar on instinct but making sure to avert his eyes. 

The stranger named Scar had a smile on his face that threatened laughter, but Grian couldn’t imagine that anything was funny. He pulled at the collar of his thin cotton shirt, but it fell back to where it’d began after, the fabric nowhere near expensive nor stiff enough to listen to his direction, and the suspenders over it were frayed and the elastic of them showing signs of having been stretched out, but he had the look of a storybook hero about him regardless; never a doubt the dragon would end up slain and the damsel recused. The confidence that had been reassuring when he’d needed it to be grated against Grian now, reeking instead of an I told you so. 

But Scar turned his smile on Grian and leaned towards him like he was gonna bop their shoulders together without actually completing the movement. And all he said was, “Let’s not do that again.” 

Grian frowned at him and stood up, making a fruitless effort to soothe the wrinkles on his dinner tails. He sighed when it wasn’t working and dropped his hand, trying not to look directly at Scar, still smiling up at him from where he lounged on the deck. 

The click of a door opening pierced the—until this moment—blessed anonymity of the entire scene, and Grian stood up straighter and looked at it on instinct only to find Mumbo. That meant dinner was over, everyone heading back to the suite—Mumbo must’ve been sent to find him. He relaxed immediately and then winced as he remembered why he was there to begin with. Grian weighed his battles and then turned back to Scar, on purpose this time, hoping any shame Mumbo might’ve caught on his face would be attributed to this and nothing else. 

“Let’s not,” Grian agreed, and then his mouth stuck open against his permission on the idea of adding a thank you. It wasn’t lost on him that Scar had saved his life; it also wasn’t lost on him that he was the reason that Scar had had to do so at all—he wasn’t sure where that left them. He wasn’t sure a thank you was appropriate; he wasn’t sure what else could be. 

Scar sat up more but stayed sitting on the deck, drawing his knees half the way to his chest and dangling his arms off of them. Whatever weird glamor of generosity and sincerity that had befallen Grian, it seemed Scar remained immune, his cool still intact. 

Where Grian continued to falter, Scar said, “It was nice to meet you, Grian.” 

It made another time Scar had caught Grian out and chosen to cover for him rather than call the point. They’d only known each other for a few minutes, but Grian felt like he’d racked up quite an amount of debt. With nothing conceivably to do about it at the moment—with Mumbo to his back and his family expecting his return and a newfound and unusual weight to every breath that he took—Grian returned indoors. After so long outside, the bright lights of the ship's interior were blinding. 

[wishmaker-astra]

Name: Astra Tsiolkovsky

Pronouns

• Default Preference: she/her

• Friends Can Use: it/its

• Though honestly as long as you're not a dick about it whatever works

Species: "Jirachi" (?)

Occupation: Astrophysics Doctoral Student

Other: Mute, psychic, former human

[Credit: Amber Aria: https://www.sunset-aria.com/]

Hey internet, I'm Astra Tsiolkovsky. I'm a doctoral student studying astrophysics in Unova. Ask me about science, engineering, and Space Stuff™ if you want rambles.

See my full about page

My Website

I use the "cw: topic" format for tagging that kind of thing.

//Mail: [reinterpreted as parcel post]•Mystery Gift: [discretionary]•Magic Anon: [off]•Union Circle: [off]

//[OOC Notes Below Cut]

EXTREMELY IMPORTANT

Check with me OOCly before sending anything ICly transphobic to her. After a couple instances of this, and one OOC Totally Normal ask, you guys have lost privilege of me accepting and rejecting on the fly with the hope you'd know when to stop.

If you fuck this up more, I'm going to mandate all asks about IC transphobic stuff get approval OFF ANON first and will start blocking anons over not asking OOCly. That said, I know some of these are hard to recognize for those of you who've never had to think about it in depth. Just think twice on if need to ask please?

EDIT 10/10: Congratulations on first OOC block about this. I am less likely to start off with warnings from now on.

Similar applies to her jirachi status. I'm a bit more lenient and open to this one, but, like, please use your brains. If it gives a setup for her to dunk on religious weirdos though, I basically have to be in a really trash mood that day to not give the OK to that.

Will Not Interact:

Magic Anon

Fae deals/name stealing

Meta Horror

4th Wall Schenanigans

Very dark topics

• This includes post-apocalyptic stuff to be clear

Mental Alteration/Mind Control related subjects

• I WILL just ignore things, have Astra behave utterly OOC, blanket refuse to interact with characters, and/or just suddenly drop interaction as if never happened if required for this

Other Notes:

I try to treat her experiencing rotomblr as *just a website* as much as possible. Granted, one with weird multiversal connection that she will assume is due to ultrahole shenanigans she doesn't understand yet

Lose combination of games and anime setting, leaning more towards the games

Pelipper mail will be interpreted as regular parcel mail being sent to her via student services.

Please keep mystery gift to minor items at most. She's a grad student as part of her character, part of that is putting up with tight money situation.

Astra's got the full abilities of a jirachi potentially, but is completely unable to use them yet. Think of it as getting a new limb suddenly.

Assumes sentient pokemon are rare, and mostly limited to:

• Ones with decent canon support (rotom inhabiting devices with a CPU, mewtwo, one off instances such as Meowth, latias, etc)

• Certain humanoid and/or psychic types raised in human society in a way that  "bootstraps" them during critical development periods (e.g. Gardevoir line treated as effectively human from birth)

Feel free to treat her as a kid screwing around on the net with a character if you want or similar if it makes sense for your character's setup or personality

She's an adult lesbian, please block the tags "suggestive", "cw: boob joke", "cw: dick joke", "cw: sex joke", and "cw: sex mention" if you are not comfortable with those topics. Please let me know if you need something tagged.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Suzie, Do You Copy?

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 5.2K

warnings: cussing, steve and reader being in love (disgusting). should be it.

summary: Fourth of July is just around the corner. First month of summer moved by in a flash, your busy with work, trying to spend time with your friends and family, and making sure you get to smother your boyfriend in all the love he deserves. But just how long will this peace last?

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story- MY FAVORITE SEASON IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! if you have an updated username when you first joined the taglist please let me know what the old name was and give me to new one so you get the notifications.

this has been sitting since january 1st…

@alecmores 💗

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter  next chapter

With the mall buzzing with life on the final day of June, Scoops Ahoy luckily wasn’t packed to the teeth with customers. The booths and tables had barely a handful of occupants, a couple sharing a milkshake, friends laughing and gossiping over their cups or cones in one of the corner booths, and a single mom with her child who was sloppily indulging in their sweet treat. People come in and out of the store with their desserts to continue browsing the giant structure.

Robin was stationed at the counter, scooping orders and ringing their prices. Steve was busting some tables in the lobby before his fifteen started, and you were in the back checking the inventory. Somehow you got bumped to assistant manager, a mystery still swimming in your brain.

Even with it being summer in Hawkins, you had to bring a nice sweater with you for every shift since you’ll most likely end up in the freezer for a few hours, jotting down what flavors are running low, what requires reordering and what flavors need to be pushed more. Sometimes when you run into Robin or Steve after leaving the ice box, the nickname you gave it, they’ll make a quick joke about your flushed cheeks or bright nose.

“Can’t believe I still make you blush after six months of dating.” or “Christmas isn’t for another six months, Rudolph.”

Just as you finished your inventory check of the night, the solid metal door slamming close behind you, Steve pushes through the swinging doors for his break. He threw the dirty rag and disinfectant spray in a bucket beside the sink, as you dropped the clipboard to the tiny table in the middle of the room and stripped your jacket off your shoulders.

“So, what’s the news?” Steve always asked that same question when you were done with your checklist. 

“Uh,” you leaned above the paper, eyes squinting a bit, “need more strawberries, a giant tub of raspberry cheesecake is set to expire next month on the twelfth, and we need more rocky road.”

You sat in the chair beside Steve, head resting in your palm with your elbow poking at the tabletop. Your eyes were drooping, wishing so badly to just rest your head against your pillow and knockout. Steve must’ve noticed your tiredness, his eyes peeking into your view along with a poke to your free cheek.

“Tired?” You just nodded. “Was it another nightmare?”

You hesitated in answering but knew Steve would find out either way, “yeah. It involved you and Will. Wasn’t pretty. I almost called-”

“Why didn’t you?” He interrupted. “Steve, I didn’t want to wake you, plus, it wasn’t crazy horrible. I was just… just shook me up a little.” A truth and a lie.

He sighed, “(Y/n),” he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned your attention to him, “if you ever have a nightmare, whether I’m in it or not, please just call me. I will come over without hesitation, you know I’m always looking for an excuse to stay at your place.” A gentle smile brightened his face.

“You know my mom is okay with you staying over.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, Jonathan probably needs space from me now and then.” Their relationship was still a bit rocky, but Steve was constantly working on fixing it, and Jonathan was just… allowing it to happen.

“Speaking of staying over,” you twisted in your seat so your knees were touching, “wanna come over tonight? After last night, I could use my human body pillow.”

Steve laughed, “oh, that’s all I am to you? A body pillow?”

“Well, among many other things,” you started to lean forward, hoping Steve got the message with your action.

And just when he started to meet you halfway, lips inches from connecting, the front bell began to chime repeatedly. Instead of your lips meeting in a sweet, sugar-tasting kiss, your foreheads connected. Steve’s eyes closed and he breathed a sigh through his nose, while you rubbed your lips together to stop a smile.

“Hey, lovebirds, your children are here.” Robin’s teasing voice floated from the front counter through the sliding window.

Steve reluctantly pulled away and threw open the divider. He rested his right arm along the white counter while his left was propped up. From your seat, you could see Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max formed in their huddle.

“Again? Seriously?” He took a glance at you then back to the four, “(Y/n) could ban you idiots.”

“I could, but I do have a bit of a soft spot for them,” you cringed at the flabbergasted look Steve was throwing you.

And when it looked like he was about to say something, another ding stole the attention. Mike’s bored face stared back.

“Well, except for Mike sometimes.” You mumbled before you motioned for them to come to the back.

You opened the back entrance, and one by one they entered the long hallway. With Will being the last one out, you ruffled his growing bowl cut, “you want a ride home?”

He walked backward, front facing you with his back to his friends, “I’ll stop by after the movie and tell you.” He then flipped around and hurried to join the other three.

Steve walked out in the hallway, hands resting at his hips, “I swear if anybody hears about this-” “We’re dead!” They all cut him off. “Have fun!” You chimed in.

You both waited until they turned the corner and were out of sight before heading back to the store. Steve took the free opportunity to pull you into his arms, back flush again his chest with his arms wrapped tight around your stomach. His head dipped down so his lips lined with your ear, “I think I was promised something before we were rudely interrupted.”

A joyful smile took over you, “oh really? I didn’t know we were handing out prizes at work now.”

“Oh, yeah. Helps boost employee morale or something.”

“Morale? Didn’t know we were in need of boosting.”

The two of you continue your slow waddle into the breakroom, Steve not losing his grip.

“Well, me, I personally could use a boost.” He finally freed you from his tight grasp, just allowing you to spin so you were chest to chest. 

“And what could boost your morale, Harrington?”

“Hm?” He hummed with a finger at his chin, really playing up his act, “Oh! What about a kiss from a lovely girl? And may the lovely girl be you, Byers?”

You copied his theatrical gesture, brows furrowed, eyes squinted, with a finger pressed to your pursed lips in fake thought.

“Why not,” you faked enthusiasm that Steve fully saw through.

Steve went with his signature kissing maneuver. His large hands rested on the sides of your face, pinkies resting just under your ears, while his thumbs swiped across your plush cheeks. You would either hold his wrist as you pushed to your tip toes or Steve would already be leaning down and you would hold him in place with your hands at his face or arms wrapped around his neck. Today it was the latter, Steve being very eager to get his kiss before something or someone could stop it from happening.

And when his lips melted into yours, a steady rhythm was building, with hands wandering from their original spots. And just before it could go any further, your bliss was broken by someone loudly coughing. The two of you broke apart and turned to the point of noise.

Robin had a disgusted scowl painted across her face with her arms crossed over her chest, “Harrington, I need you up front with me while (Y/n) goes on her break.” She turned to head back up front before twisting back, “and (Y/n), you promised to keep PDA to a very low minimum at work. For my pure eyes.”

“Sorry, Robs.”

She pushed the saloon doors open when the ring of the front bell went off. You gave Steve one quick peck to the lips before pushing at his chest, “you heard the boss, go help up front.” With that you separated, Steve was forced to do his job and you grabbed your wallet so you could get your dinner at the food court, also for Robin and Steve.

“Okay, so I’m gonna head to the food court, you two want anything?” You said with your head poking through the divider.

Robin and Steve were both helping customers so you waited with patience for them to respond to you. As you waited, you unabashedly watched Steve while he scooped ice cream, and as you were mesmerized by his biceps, the lights turned off.

“That’s weird,” Steve voiced before walking to the switch.

You and Robin watched as he flicked it on and off, continuing to mess with it even though it showed no results. Your heart rate was slowly picking up speed with the length of the lights being off.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin pointed out.

“Oh, really?” Steve shot back before going back to flicking the switch even faster.

Still, nothing was happening, and he finally stopped. You curled your nails into your palms, needing to feel something. Steve went back to flicking the switch, slower this time. And on the fifth time, when he flicked the switch on the lights returned to life.

“Let there be light,” and he went back to the ice cream.

Robin just glared at him before turning to you, “what a guy,” And before she could make a snide comment, she leaned in closer, “are you- are you okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.” 

“Yeah, yeah, just not a fan of the dark. Uh, you want- you want anything, from the food court?” Needing to change the subject quickly.

She looked at you with hesitation, but played along, “uh, Orange Julius. My usual.” And she turned to the register, Steve taking her spot.

“You want anything from the food court?” “A coke and fries from Burger King, please.”

With their orders, you left the shop to officially start your hour break.

…

You ate your pancakes and eggs in the slow morning quiet. Will was beside you as he leaned over and grabbed another pancake, but you smacked his hand causing him to drop it.

“What?”

“Save that for Steve. You got enough on your plate.” And you shoved a fork of eggs into your mouth.

You heard a door open and footsteps before Steve came into view at the end of the hall. You flashed him a smile as he took the seat across from Will, while he took the plate where the leftover pancakes and eggs sat.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers.” Steve’s voice was deep from just waking up.

She flailed a hand, “how many times do I have to tell you, Steve? You can call me, Joyce.”

“I’ll probably need a few more reminders before it sticks.” He chuckled and then reached for the syrup.

Soon Jonathan’s door cracked open and he was rushing out while finishing his buttons. Joyce rushed over to him, Jonathan slowing his steps. You noticed the faint lipstick kiss on his cheek, but no Nancy behind him.

“Wait up.” Joyce stopped him.

“Oh, no, I’ll eat at work. I’m late.”

“No, your cheek.” And she swiped at the makeup.

Jonathan moved her hand away, “all right, all right. I gotta run. See you later.”

“Tell Nancy she can leave through the front door next time,” you yelled before the front door shut with a slam.

“Ugh. Gross.” Will muttered as Joyce walked back to her seat.

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna think it’s gross when you fall in love.” She looked from Will to you and Steve, “just look at (Y/n) and Steve. Don’t you want what they have?”

Will eyed the both of you, you and Steve stopped eating to hear what Will was gonna say, “what? Constantly eating each other's faces?”

“Dude, come on.” You groaned at Will while Steve just laughed.

“But, Will,” Steve stopped laughing and looked directly at Will, “I’m sure you’ll find a special girl later in life. You’re a catch.”

“I’m not gonna fall in love,” Will mumbled as he poured syrup over his food.

You heard the hidden pain in his words and understood why he thought he wasn’t gonna fall in love. You gave a slight tap to Will’s foot, his eyes looking your way and you threw a small smile to show just an ounce of your love and support for him.

“What- what happened here?” Joyce muttered as she walked near the fridge.

You and Will watched as she picked up a pile of papers and magnets that must have fallen off the fridge in the middle of the night. You saw how she looked at a drawing Will did for Bob, her hand lingering before joining the three of you at the table.

“So, Will, have any plans today?” You questioned him with a mouth full of pancakes.

“Dustin’s coming home from camp today, so we’re going to surprise him at his house. Ms. Henderson was really excited about the idea.”

“Oh! You guys should try and stop by today if you have time. I know Steve is just dying to see Dustin, aren’t you Stevie?” Your attention is on him now.

You spotted the slight flush to his ears but didn’t comment on it. Steve nodded his head while chewing his food before speaking, “yeah, really miss the know it all.” A tease mixed with fondness.

…

You had a lovely day off today, but sadly Steve and Robin had to work. So you dropped Steve off at the mall, drove off in his BMW, promised to pick him and Robin up at the end of their shift, and decided to keep Joyce company at Melvard’s. With Starcourt bringing newer stores and better work, downtown was empty. Ghost of stores that used to be full of business and life was now just rotting buildings with their windows papered over, and envelopes stuffed at the doorway.

When you pulled up to the storefront, through the window you watched Joyce hanging a giant sale sign, fifty to seventy percent off everything. It worried you knowing that Melvard’s was probably the next store to go out of business, the one store that Joyce has worked at for as long as you can remember. You knew small little Hawkins couldn’t stay the same forever, it still worried you every day.

The bell jingled at your arrival, Joyce already smiling at your visit.

“Hi, honey. What’s up?” She hopped off the little stool and met you halfway.

You shrugged, “wanted to keep you company for a bit. Jonathan’s at work, Will’s welcoming Dustin back, and my friend and boyfriend are working today.”

“Wha- what about your other friend? That- that Munson kid?” “Uh, I heard he went out of town for a few weeks or something.” You threw your arms over Joyce’s shoulders with your face pressed to her neck, “you don’t want your favorite child visiting you?”

Her arms wrapped around your waist, “well, I don’t see Will anywhere…”

You pulled away with a hurt gasp, “mother, I am hurt. Your only daughter, how could you?”

The two of you burst into giggles over your dramatics and before you could be carried any further the bell rang again. Two pairs of eyes landing on, “hi, Hopper.” A wave thrown his way which he returned with a gentle smile.

“Sorry for interrupting-”

“Oh, it’s fine, Hop. What can we do? Or whoever you need.” Joyce started to walk away to the cash register. You stayed behind, taking note of the nervous look on Hopper’s face. Joyce turned around at the quiet coming from the tall man and scoffed, “what now?” This must have been a recurring thing between them.

“(Y/n), could you grab the pricing gun and follow me?” And she headed to an aisle with Hopper in tow.

“So Mike was at the cabin again last night, the two of them in her room, being gross. They were giggling and kissing,” Hopper looked like he wanted to throw up at the memory, “and I always make sure that her door is open three inches, so I took a peek inside to make sure nobody was crossing a line. And when I saw them kissing and called them out-”

“Could you mark this side while I do the wall? Should be three dollars, everything.” Joyce stopped Hopper's story to instruct you. “You can continue, Hopper,” you said as you walked past him.

It was a few seconds before he spoke up again, “and- and then El, she just… slams the door. Right in my face.”

“Uh-huh?” Joyce absent-mindedly responded.

“You know, it’s that smug son of a bitch, Mike. He’s corrupting her, I’m telling you.” Footsteps sounded against the cool tile, “and I’m just gonna lose it. I mean, I am gonna lose it, Joyce.”

“Just take it down, Hopper.” Her voice sounded on the other side of your aisle.

“I need them to break up.” Hopper’s voice was firm.

“That is not your decision to make.” Joyce continued to price variest items.

“They’re spending entirely too much time together. You agree with me about that, right?” Hopper stood from his spot.

“Well, (Y/n) and Steve spend a lot of time together, at work and outside. And I mean, they’re just kissing, right?” Joyce pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s constant. It is constant.” Hopper sounded like he was gonna blow a top.

You were about to voice an opinion of yours, but Joyce beat you to speaking first, “Oh, you should hear what Will says about (Y/n) and Steve, especially this morning-”

“Mom! Don’t say stuff like that.” You groaned.

“What- I’m just trying to help Hopper with examples.”

“Yeah, but I’m- Steve and I, we’re adults. It’s a bit more acceptable than when two, what, thirteen-year-olds do it. Look it sounds nice that El has someone she likes being around, but she and Mike are practically attached at the hip. And also add to the fact that they can’t stop sucking face, it’s gross. I’m gonna have to side with Hopper.”

Hopper points a hand at you, “thank you. You see, it’s not normal, it’s not healthy.”

“Well, you can’t just force them apart. I mean, they’re not little kids anymore, Hop. They’re teenagers.” Hopper walked his way over to Joyce, you following behind, “and (Y/n), you and Steve aren’t adults yet, the both of you are still teenagers as well.”

“Steve’s birthday is next month, he’ll be nineteen.” Thinking that’ll help your argument.

“Yeah, well, when he hits twenty-one and when you hit twenty-one, I’ll consider the both of you pre-adults. And when you hit twenty-five, that’s when you’re a full-fledged adult. Now, Hop,” her attention is done with you and back to Hopper who was throwing something into the air before catching it, “if you order them around like a cop, then they’re gonna rebel. It’s just what they do.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“So what, I’m just supposed to let them do whatever they want?” Hopper flayed his arms out.

Joyce huffed, “no, I- I didn’t say that. I think you should… talk to them.” Pricing a box of Tampax.

“No. No. ‘Cause talking doesn’t work.”

“Not yelling. Not ordering. But talk to them. I do it with my kids, right, (Y/n)?”

Hopper turned towards you, waiting for any answer, “oh yeah. Little one-on-ones with each other. Heart-to-hearts, you know?”

Hopper’s eyes looked away from you for a moment like he was mulling over your words. “A heart-to-heart? What is that?” He fidgeted with his hat.

“Well,” Joyce jumped back in, “you sit them down and you talk to them like you’re their friend. I find if you talk to them like you’re on their level,” Hopper leaned against a beam, “then they start to listen. And then, you know, you could start to create some boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Hopper whispered.

“Yeah, but, Hop, it’s really important that no matter how they respond, you stay calm. You cannot lose your temper.” You noted the eye roll followed by his fingers tapping along the pillar.

“Uh… maybe you could do it for me? Or (Y/n), even, she could do it. El likes you.” A glance your way before it was back on Joyce.

“No. And I say that for both of us. You need to do this on your own, Hop.” “Besides, I’d rather stay on the outside of this situation, it’s not our place. You’re her legal guardian, Hopper.” You added your input, but Hopper just waved you off and looked to Joyce.

“No, no, yeah. Yeah, you could. You come over after work.” He stomped towards her.

“No.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head, “no, it will only work if it comes from you. But…” She trailed off while walking to the counter, “maybe I can help you…” she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, “I can help you find the right words.” She began to scribble words down with Hopper leaning in.

You watched the two of them, how Joyce was mouthing words to herself as she thought about them before writing them on the page. Noting that Hopper’s eyes glanced in her direction every few seconds before looking away like he didn’t want to get caught sneaking looks her way. It felt a bit wrong to observe them, but there was something that just piqued your interest.

Before you got carried away in your people-watching, a blur of motion was caught in your periphery making you jerk your head towards the store windows. And you saw Nancy rushing away before she disappeared from view.

…

“I know this is a difficult conversation to have… but I hope you know that I… care about you very much. And I know that you-”

“Eye contact.”

Hopper sighed at Joyce’s interruption. You just sat beside her with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I know that you… both care about each other very much- this does not sound like me at all.”

“Well, you never know. As long as you don’t strangle Mike, it’s a win.” You tried to joke, but it wasn’t working.

Joyce threw a hand over your mouth, “just keep going. Come on.” She encouraged him with a smile.

Hopper took a breath, “which is why I think it’s important to establish these boundaries… moving forward…” he looked down at the lined paper.

“No looking. You know this. Come on.”

“...so we can build an environment… uh… where we… all feel comfortable and trusted and open… to share our feelings- this isn’t gonna work.” Hopper stood from his seat and walked to the empty side of Joyce, “um, it’s not gonna work. It’s not gonna work.” He kept repeating.

“Yes, it will! I promise.” “Just gotta put a bit more… emotion into it,” again, Hopper wasn’t enjoying your criticism.

“Maybe I’ll just kill Mike. I’m the chief of police, I could cover it up.”

“I’ll be your alibi.” You said in all seriousness. You saw the shake of Hopper’s shoulders, a quiet chuckle. 

“Come on. You got this.” Joyce clasped their hands together.

Again you watched as they held each other's gazes, neither one breaking or pulling their hands apart. You saw the tiny smile hidden by his thick mustache, you couldn’t see Joyce’s face, but you knew there was a similar expression gracing her face.

After a minute or two of the growing silence, Hopper broke it first, “you wanna have dinner tonight?”

And that was your cue to leave.

You jumped off the counter and made your way toward the entrance, “Uh, I gotta get going. Steve and Robin are probably missing my wonderful presence.”

Joyce broke her stare with Hopper, “Okay, honey. I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah, if anything changes, I’ll call you. Bye Hopper.” He waved you off and you were out of the store and into the maroon BMW.

…

With the summer heat growing a bit more as the day went on, the mall was packed with dozens of people. Some just sit at the food court with a book in hand or a group of friends going from store to store with shopping backs held in their grasp as they chat away. Not a single one of them knew of the dangers that have slipped into Hawkins during the dead of night, the things you’ve seen and experienced. You wished you could live like them, oblivious and in peace.

In your spaced-out mind, you reached the brightly colored ice cream parlor in no time, brain lagging for a minute.

“-n). (Y/n), hello.” It sounded like you were underwater and whoever was calling to you was muffled by the waves.

The trance ended when the person shook your shoulder, head snapping in their direction with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Robin’s husky voice was a whisper.

You blinked a few times, “uh, yeah. Yeah, just- just tired, I guess.” You saw the look in Robin’s eyes, she didn’t believe you, “good shift?” You tried to change the subject.

She hesitated before responding, “busy as usual. Along with your boy toy not being able to stop crying for you.” A playful roll of her eyes.

You grinned at that, “Speaking of my ‘boy toy’, where is he?”

“Disappeared somewhere like ten minutes ago,” she shrugged.

You questioned it, but didn’t voice it, “wanna get lunch with us when you’re done? You wanted a ride home anyway.”

“I guess, but all hands within eyesight and no kissing… I’ll allow one cheek kiss. But after that, I’ll throw myself down the escalator if I’m forced to witness your sickening love.”

“Oh, that’s such a nice sacrifice on your part, Robin.” Stretching the sarcastic tone.

Again, she rolled her eyes and turned her back on you before pushing the backroom doors open. You followed a step behind and sat across from her, her legs stretched over the small square table. You swatted at her beat-up converses, “can you get your dirty feet off the table? We eat here.”

“And we also clean it, so it should matter.”

“Not all of us clean it…” you trailed off.

Robin just rolled her eyes at the comment. The two of you chatted a bit, bits of gossip Robin heard from passing customers, what you did while away from work and you made a light mention of the Mike dilemma with Hopper. A joke was thrown in here and there causing the both of you to release loud chuckles that presumably drifted into the dining area.

Your chuckles died off when you heard the hinges of the doors squeak followed by hands resting on your shoulders. You leaned your head back, your round dome mushing into starchy fabric, but you had a lovely sight before you.

“Hi, Stevie,” a beaming smile erupted.

“Hi baby,” he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hmm, Robin told me you were, and I quote ‘crying for my presence’. Thought you could handle a few hours away from my quiet self.” A tilt of your head finished your sentence.

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I always want to be around you. Like… you’re like air. I need you every second to live or I’ll die.” His thumbs swiped along your jawline.

You peered at him with wide eyes with your mouth agape, startled by this sudden admission. You wanted to make a joke, something to break the silence, but you knew if you joked when Steve just said those, it would leave cracks in his heart. So the most you could do at the moment was beam him a smile and twine your hands together.

“Ugh, I’m gonna barf.” Robin broke the lovely spell.

You bit your lip to stop the childish smile that wanted to follow her comment. Steve huffed and moved to the seat that was in the middle of yours and Robins. He ran a hand through his hair before moving it to his cheek and leaning into his palm with his eyes zeroed in on you.

“What?” You asked after a beat of silence.

You couldn’t see the smile, but you saw his cheeks move, “you’re just really pretty.”

“Well I think you’re pretty, without a doubt,” you tried to argue back, not being able to handle compliments thrown your way.

Steve shook his head, strands of chestnut hair touching his forehead, “nope. Nobody comes close to the beauty you radiate.”

You fidgeted with your hands before covering your face, not being able to handle the sweet honey dripping from Steve’s lips or the loving gaze that was staring down into your soul.

“Guys, what have I said? No PDA! For the love of my sanity, please.” Robin’s voice cracked at the end.

“We aren’t doing any PDA, Buckley. I’m just making sure my girl knows how loved and gorgeous she is.” Steve shrugged like it was nothing.

“Yeah, well it feels like I’m being forced to watch the two of you kiss. It’s so- ugh!” She threw her head back before smacking a hand into Steve’s bicep, “stop eye fucking her! I’m right here! Save that for private time, please.” Her hands clasped together, really begging for a reprieve from the two of you.

“Guess you don’t want a ride home then,” Steve spoke as he stood from his seat.

“Honestly if this keeps up, I’ll for sure just take the bus home.” She grumbled.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their friendly banter, the two of them firing at each other just as the other shoots back. You can’t help but think that these two people somehow became friends on their own, with very little push coming from your end. It made you happy, one of your best friends and your boyfriend getting along well with or without you around.

“Okay, okay. Let’s put the claws away and let's get food because I am starving.” You mediated the situation from going any further.

“Yeah, whatever. Harrington’s paying for me,” Robin walked away to grab her backpack. Steve was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

You just held your hands up, “you were eye fucking me earlier, this would make up for it.” A stupid reason, but you knew Steve would give in either way.

And with a simple roll of his stunning brown eyes, you knew he caved. And pretty quickly, might be a new record.

“You’re very lucky that I would do anything for you.”

“And that includes buying Robin’s lunch. Like the good friend, you are to her.” A quick tap to Steve’s chest.

When Robin came back the both of you left Steve behind and walked out of the store with your faces close together as you gossip around the fast-paced bystanders. And if one of those topics involved Steve… he didn’t need to know any of the tiny details.

...

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*striked out means tumblr cant find you, sorry*

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Bravura

Chapter Four

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, past Dean/Jo

Word Count: 3893

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, allusion to Jo and Mary's deaths, allusion to Sam's addiction issues, buried feelings, bribery in the form of pie, unbeta'd

Series Masterlist

Divider courtesy of @cafekitsune

Dean woke up with only a hint of a hangover, having stuck to beer most of the night. They had guests over after all. Which was one of those little rules he had made for himself over the past few months to keep himself in line, accountability and all that. He groaned and stretched, letting his body fan out into the empty spaces of his oversized bed. It was on mornings like that one when Dean wished he had given in to Sam and gotten them a dog. But in a few months, they’d been back on the road and that kind of life isn’t fair to anyone, let alone a pet you can’t explain your life choices to. 

So, instead of getting wake up kisses or giving out chin scratches, Dean got himself out of bed. He made his way downstairs to make some coffee. Charlie had ducked out sometime around two, leaving you alone on the couch. Which is where Dean found you still, breathing deeply with your mouth open like a hoodie-doned Anna, rat’s nest hair and all. Fuckin’ adorable.

Dean smiled to himself and quietly made a pot of coffee.

Not even an hour later and you were up, wiping the drool onto the sleeve of your sweatshirt and slogging into the kitchen, empty glass of water in your free hand which you set down next to the sink. 

“Mornin’,” you said to him, casual as ever.

Dean stayed put, no matter how much he wanted to reach out and touch you. “Mornin’. Want something to eat? There’s coffee, but not sure it’s still hot.”

“It’s coffee, it’s fine,” you insisted, grabbing a mug like you lived there and poured yourself the last of the pot. You slid into the stool next to Dean and glanced over his shoulder, lyrics and chords criss crossing his notepad as he doodled in the margins. He tried not to flinch from your curiosity.

“Just working out the kinks,” he said softly, before taking a sip from his own cup.

“I can’t imagine, there’s so much that goes into them all.” You shook your head, and added, “you’re so good at it, too.”

“Ahhh, shucks.” Dean smirked, bluffing as usual.

“At least I know you suck at video games, otherwise I’d doubt you were real.”

Always putting him in his place. He elbowed you, making you flail to stop your coffee from spilling. “That real enough for ya?”

“Ass!”

Dean chuckled and folded his notes away, dropping his pen on top of the ratty first page that held forgotten potential album titles and a phone number to a Chinese place near the studio.

He sighed, grimacing at his now empty cup. “Need a ride home? I’m gonna take a drive before Sam’s back for lunch.”

You squinted at him and Dean could tell that was too obvious.

“Well, since you’re offering—”

“Always ready and willing to be your chauffeur, Trouble, you know that.”

“I know, I just don’t want to take up the rest of your morning off.” You shrugged and then dropped your head back and rolled your shoulders, grunting from the strain. “Remind me to find a bed next time, I’m guessing you guys have those, right?”

Dean had beds to spare, but more importantly, he was picturing you crawling into his bed, specifically. Luckily, his brain was smarter than his dick. “Yeah, don’t even use the coffins anymore, totally civilized and everything.”

You giggled pointedly. Hey, it wasn’t that bad a joke.

“Okay, well, I’ll be ready to go whenever you are,” you sighed before taking a long drink, hinting he should get in gear.

Dean pushed back away from the counter, careful not to nudge you as he stood. He was always so aware of his body in relation to yours, drawn in and held back. “Okay, sure. Uh, let me grab my wallet, meet you in the garage.”

You gasped from the long pull. “Sounds good.”

He made it to the backstairs before backtracking for his notepad, not wanting to leave something like that out as temptation. You played innocent, but he could tell you had been half a second away from snooping. He gave you his best disappointed face, as you huffed, the hesitance of your smile a sure sign of embarrassment.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Dean teased, and made his way back upstairs.

The ride out of the canyon was perfect, sunny and mild. He put his aviators on and cranked the tunes, drumming on the steering wheel as you hummed along beside him. If Dean could pick which memories to revisit in his dreams, he hoped to have this one again soon. Not much could top moments like this, when it was just you two and Baby, good music and the open road. Even days with Sam like this were few and far between lately.

He kept looking over at you, to see if you were smiling. And you’d just roll your eyes at him and turn up the music. God, he wanted to kiss you. But he wouldn’t do that to you, wouldn’t make you into somebody who he could really hurt. Somebody he could lose. After his mom and Jo, Dean was done with losing people. 

So, as long as Sam was clean and safe, Dean had everything he needed.

Friends were enough. For everything else, he’d manage.

He pulled up to the curb in front of your house just before eleven, the old place a welcome sight. 

“Hey, everything alright? You kind of disappeared there,” you asked, turning towards him on the bench seat.

Dean closed his eyes and kicked himself for overthinking. “Uh, yeah, just sort of spaced out. The house good? Need anything fixed?”

“Um, no, I mean yes. The house is good— nothing’s broken. I’d let my landlord know if I needed help, Dean,” you said weightedly.

“Yeah, but your landlord is kind of a dick. Might as well check.”

“Well, I think he’s on top of it. Even when he’s busy writing songs and playing chauffeur.” 

Dean couldn’t help but think of how else he’d like to be on top.

“Well, you know where to find me if you put a pound of pinto beans down the disposal again.”

“I swear to god! That was one time and my parents’ disposal could have handled that. You know what, I’m going to put an entire melon rind down there later, just so you have to fix it.” You swung the door open and stood up, straightening the strap of your bag and patting the pouch of your hoodie for your phone.

“I’ll make Sam come out, he’ll fucking compost it or some shit.” Dean grinned and held up his hand in a stunted wave as you closed the door.

“Thanks, butthead!” You called over your shoulder.

“Anytime,” he said back, too quiet for you to hear. He made sure you got in through the side door, before checking his blindspot, and pulling back into traffic.

November was slipping through Dean’s fingers, but days in the studio felt like a charged eternity. A lifetime of making music, and he still couldn’t get sick of it. It was in his blood, but he and Sam had stopped trying to live their father’s dream almost ten years ago and had started making their own kind of music. He walked out of Frank’s studio just after seven o’clock that following Tuesday night, giving the band an early night to prepare for Annie’s arrival the following day. Sam was on his phone as he rounded the trunk toward the passenger seat, talking to god-only-knew.

Dean unlocked his door and reached over to let Sam in, the stretch across the bench seat a good kind of ache after his hard day. Yeah, he was definitely sitting in the hot tub after they got some grub. 

“Hey!” Dean interrupted Sam’s call. “Pick up or delivery?”

Sam gave Dean a patented bitchface. “Just get it delivered, I don’t want to sit and wait and then have to drive more.”

“Ooooookay,” Dean muttered, ignoring his pissy brother as he punched in their usual pizza order.

A grueling seventy minutes later, Dean turned the corner and pulled into their driveway. After parking in his usual spot in the garage, he curled out of the car, leaving Sam texting on his phone while Dean bee lined to his room. He then stripped down, threw on a pair of trunks and an old ACDC t-shirt just in time for the doorbell to ring with their pizza delivery.

Dean muttered to himself about good timing and took the stairs barefoot down into the kitchen. 

Sam nodded at him and set the boxes onto the island. “Hey, look who’s here.”

And as Sam turned, Dean spotted you, an apology written all over your face and a bakery box held in your hands.

“Wha— Oh! Trouble's here. Is that—? Seriously living up to your nickname aren't you?” 

“Dude!” Sam chastised him, hair flapping in disgust.

“I’m just sayin’! She shows up out of the blue and I know enough to know a pie is to butter me up for something.”

“But you still want it," you urged, tipping it side to side to tempt him.

“Of course I want it, it’s pie! Jesus.” Dean snatched the box and opened it, smelling the sweet filling over the thick haze of cheese and spices from their pizza. Remembering his manners, he added on, “we got pizza, help yourself.”

He carried the pie box over to the range and set it down, before spinning around to pull out a server from their large utensil drawer. 

“So, Y/N, you gonna spill? Hmmm? Tell me why I’m slicing into this sexy, sexy crust?” Dean looked across the island to where you had plopped yourself down and started on a slice of pizza without waiting for a plate from Sam.

You chewed and swallowed, tipping your head to the side as if considering telling them at all. “God, that’s good. Um, yeah, I mean, I need a favor, but really it’s a favor for the band, so not technically for me, but it was my idea, so I brought you a peace offering—- which you already figured out, jackass.”

Dean grinned without teeth, taking his own plate from Sam and shoveling a quarter of the Dutch Apple pie onto it.

“What is it?” Sam asked, opening a beer before handing it to Dean.

“So the label thinks we still have a lot of work to do on your image. We need to regain the fans’ trust— in Dean, specifically. So I thought we should show ‘em how you’ve mellowed out and uh, settled down a bit.”

Dean and Sam shared a look over their respective slices of pie.

“Why does that sound like you’re marrying him off?”

You cleared your throat and reached over for a drink of Sam’s beer. Dean watched your throat bob around the beverage, other hand clenched in a wadded up paper towel. 

“Well, not marrying him off.”

“Okay, cryptic. Mind spelling it out for the rest of us?” Dean’s pie was suddenly too dry and he fought the sensation with a swipe of his tongue and a sip of his own beer.

Sam turned and grabbed himself another bottle.

“Remember my friend Bela? Well, I was thinking that you guys could like Social Media date for a while, show that you’ve matured–”

Sam almost choked on his beer. Dean glared at him as he finally reached for a slice of his meat lovers' deluxe. 

“And somebody who is as wholesome and well liked as Bela could, uh, help with that.”

“You want me to parade around the city with a washed up actress to show that I’m not gonna punch any more holes into dressing room doors?” Dean shoved half a slice of pizza into his mouth to keep his tongue in check.

“Basically,” you shrugged, then you squared your shoulders and looked Dean head on. He appreciated how serious you were taking this, but it sounded like the last thing that would convince Dick or even Crowley he’d turned over a new leaf.

“What’s Bobby say about all this?” Sam’s voice broke the moment.

Something flashed in your eyes when you looked at Sam. It almost seemed like you were embarrassed about something, or maybe just holding back. “He thinks it could work. He remembered Bela’s name from when she was a regular on that old sailing show. He backed me with the suits. They want a full year tour, extra press, double shows at the cities you had to cancel last round. But! I got you full say on the next album. They take off the reins and Phantom Traveler gets to make an album completely of their own.”

Dean chewed, debating calling Bobby himself just to see if the old codger actually agreed to the dog-and-pony show. But you wouldn’t lie about something that easily verified. He felt Sam watching him and took another obscene bite of pizza, just because.

“The guys know?” Sam continued as if Dean’s social life was being decided for him.

“No—- and I think we should keep it just between us. If too many people know it’s an act, it’ll do more harm than good.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that’s good– lie to ‘em. Sure that will be really good for band morale.”

“You don’t have to get serious about it, just some dates out in the open. See how everybody takes it.” You really wanted him to do this, and Dean couldn’t even touch on all the ways it was sitting wrong with him.

“And if all the tabloids start following us around?”

Sam huffed. “You’d play nice if somebody else’s career depended on it.”

Dean looked at you, at the sheer begging in your eyes and the tilt of your head in concession that Sam was right. Dean swore underneath his breath and dropped his pizza crust.

“She can’t be okay with this. She barely even talked to me at that housewarming you threw.”

Sam couldn’t keep his mouth shut, “that was, what? Five years ago?”

But you just rolled past the obvious. “She doesn’t tend to trust famous people, Dean. She’s been in the business since before she started kindergarten. She thinks you’re hot, if that matters. Just, please, wear, like, designer clothes and shave before you guys meet up? I promised her you knew how to clean up.”

Dean wanted to throw on the rattiest Walmart jeans he owned just to piss them all off for putting this on him. “I didn’t say I was doing anything.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Come on, Dean. You’ve dated a lot worse.”

“And a lot better,” Dean retaliated too quickly and the room fell into devastated silence. Everyone was thinking about who he meant and Dean couldn’t look you in the eye after that.

You let out a defeated sigh. “Don’t you trust me?”

All sense of appetite abandoned him. Dean felt your eyes bore into the side of his face, but he didn’t want to be the bigger person here. He was sick of always rising above, even if it was best for the band. “This isn’t about trust. I’m just not interested. Now— if you’ll excuse me. I have a real date— with my jacuzzi.”

Dean stood and marched out the French doors that led onto the pool deck. He felt Sam move behind him, no doubt doing the damage control that Dean was too wiped to muster. Why couldn’t Sam be the label’s golden boy, huh? Getting that oversized baby laid on their dime would actually be kind of cathartic. 

God, were they planning on paying your friend to date him? Was that how pathetic he was now? Dean turned on the jets and whipped his shirt over his head, muscles aching, he sank into the quickly warming water.

He closed his eyes and rested his neck against the ledge, willing the world around him to fade away. This plan would have never even hatched if he hadn’t fucked up so badly in the first place. If he hadn’t stopped giving a shit about being a musician and a decent human being and fallen in with Cain and all of his instincts- driven manipulative bullshit. If Dean hadn’t been so desperate for acceptance of his darker desires, of his rage. 

He could hear Alastair’s nasal laugh in the back of his mind and his hands instantly turned to fists beneath the water. 

No. That was not who he is. Not anymore.

He forced himself to open his eyes and stare at the handful of faint stars, lost to the lights of the city. He counted his breaths. Everything was so small, so inconsequential in the long run. What was a few dates and some hand holding? After everything he put his friends and family through the last couple of years, couldn’t he turn on the charm for some shitty paps and stupid apps?

Damnit.

He heard the doors close and your muted footsteps through the barrier of water and the thrum of the jets around him. He didn’t bother to sit up, he just closed his eyes and waited for the rest of your pitch. What he wasn’t expecting, was the gentle stroke of your fingers against the hair that clung to his forehead, or the fondness of your expression as you looked down at him where you were perched on the ledge of the tub, feet in the water and your long skirt hiked up to avoid getting soaked.

“What?” Dean didn’t mean to sound so rough, but the anger was always there, just beneath the surface, whether you deserved it or not.

“You’re thinking about him— and probably beating yourself up again. I can tell,” you said like you can read his mind. 

Dean sat up, carefully. “It’s not—- this stupid thing is my fault. Of course I’ll do it, but just let me feel like shit about it first. I mean, I need to grieve my bachelorhood here, you know what I’m sayin’?”

You shoved his face away. “Perv.”

Dean nudged your thigh with his shoulder, nearly toppling you over. Laughing, you scooted to the opposite side of the tub. Dean kicked his feet out, warning you he could still get you drenched if he wanted to. You didn’t test fate.

Dean caved. “Pam’s not gonna believe it until she sees us together, and maybe not even then. I gotta work my way up to it before we are seen together. Text me her number so I can start playing distracted.”

“Of course.”

“Sam butthurt he doesn’t get a fake girlfriend, too?” Dean asked to keep them on the surface of things.

You cocked an eyebrow and looked back at the house where Sam had disappeared somewhere. “Do you guys even talk, like, at all? He’s been talking to Madison from the animal shelter for like two months, Dean.”

“No shit?” Dean was impressed. “God, he always did like older women.”

“Nooooooo, older women like Sam. He just doesn’t have any hold ups about age gaps.” You said pointedly.

“Hey, Sammy’s a big boy, he can make his own mistakes.”

“Sure.” You sighed. “Are you really okay with this? I know how much you hate the forced persona-type of publicity.”

“I mean, I’m not thrilled with it. But—- pretending to date a hot chick isn’t really the worst case scenario, either.”

You just shook your head at him in a way that made Dean feel like he had fixed something he didn’t know was breaking. “She really is good people, okay? She’s not just a pretty face. Even if she comes off as a bit—”

“Stuck up?”

“I was going to say discerning, but yeah.”

He laughed. “Christ, Y/N, always spinning something for the positive.”

“It’s what I’m paid the big bucks for,” you threw back at him.

“Ha-ha. But seriously, if this works out, definitely figure something out with Bobby for your next contract, this could save all our bacon.”

“That’s the plan, at least. You know if we could trust people not to be assholes, I would have all the platforms knowing what a great guy you really are.”

“Yeah, people still believe what they want to believe. That’s why I need you to sell it for me. Goes down much easier with a buffer.”

“I think you mean a filter.”

“Both.” Dean rolled his shoulders before reaching over to reset the jets. “There’s suits upstairs if you want a soak, it’s mighty nice after a long day.”

“Why do you have girls swimming suits in your house? Do you just collect them or wear them in your free time?”

“A, for guests, which you are, so excuse me for offering. And two, I would look damn good in a little two piece number, so don’t knock it. But nothing and I mean nothing could make me prove it, so tough titties there.”

“A girl can dream,” you teased back, playing with the bottom hem of your partially damp skirt.

Dean winked. And you just groaned and hid your face in your hands.

“Ugh! Not fair.”

Dean chuckled, knowing his flirting wasn’t going to score him any points. “Okay, well, send me Bela’s info and I’ll keep you posted. But if we can’t convince Pam, I don’t think we’ll be able to convince the whole world, ya know?”

You nodded and inhaled through your nose. “Right. I’ll start poking to make it seem I’m being nosy too, help build your case.”

“Good thinking. Okay, get out of here, I need to rest my voice for tomorrow.”

Your head popped up. “It’s Annie day?!”

“It’s Annie day.”

You dragged your legs out of the water, shaking them off before standing on the stone tiles. “Oh, man, I can’t wait to hear this album.  It’s already gonna be my favorite, I know it.” 

Dean’s chest tightened at your words, knowing what the songs already meant to him. “We’ll see, got a couple more weeks before we’ll be totally done.”

“I can’t wait! Please, pretty please, take pictures tomorrow? I know she’s kind of a secret for now, but I want to be able to share behind the scenes shots once we announce she’ll be touring too.”

Dean twisted and rested his chin against his forearms, watching you walk back towards the house. “Done. Need a ride home?” 

“I’ll get a ride, don’t worry about me tonight. I did kind of gatecrash dinner.”

“Yeah, but you brought pie.”

“Know your audience, one of the first things they teach you in beginning marketing, man.”

“That degree was money well spent, huh?”

You rolled your eyes and let your shoulders droop. “Don’t turn into a prune. I’ll text you.”

Dean waved. “Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Yes, mom.” And with that you closed the door behind yourself. Dean watched through the glass as you grabbed your phone and your bag and placed your ride request. Sam must have been watching something in the den because Dean saw as he followed you towards the front door.

Dean couldn’t help but worry after you, but as protective as he was, parental was never going to be how he saw you.

Tagging: @deans-spinster-witch@mrswhozeewhatsis@cosicas-cuquis@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like@suckitands33@ladysparkles78@deans-baby-momma@stoneyggirl2@sassy-pelican@leigh70

Chapter Five: Fermata

[shinyaharu98]

Unraveled Secrets - Episode 2 (ft. Yeojin)

LOONA ViVi x Male Reader

Word Count: 7469 words

Categories: smut, girl on girl, series

Disclaimer: Here is the second part of the trilogy! This episode happened right after where episode 1 has left off. Also all LOONA members will use stage names in the most part excluding ViVi for familiarity and continuity purposes. Special thanks to @a-casual-kpopfan for proof reading!

Episode 1

They say time is just a perception. If you are doing something you like, it will flow by faster, and vice versa. Waiting is an arduous process, a slow torturing method designed to push your mind and patience to its absolute limits. If things going your way is like a 100 meter dash, then waiting is like a marathon. It’s the pain of going through it.

-7 days till scheduled trip-

“One week.” Kahei murmured.

Your first date in real life. 7 days left. Painful.

Unlike Chuu, who is allegedly booked full until 2054, Kahei had some free time to spare. Usually she would spend her time painting art pieces, hosting V Live from time to time, or just hanging out with other unoccupied members. But now, all she can think of is that day. THAT special first date you two are going to have. Kahei cannot stop herself from overthinking about every single aspect of it. Where should we go? What will we be doing together? And also…what is Yeojin planning anyways? As soon as she thought about that, Yeojin’s words echoed inside Kahei’s brain.

“We’ll have a threesome together unnie! We’ll be fucking all day and all night long! Isn’t it what you asked for?”

Her ears turned red. Her face turned crimson. Her heart was pounding stronger than before. Even her kidneys are pounding, for some reason.

“What is this feeling? Nervousness? It couldn’t be…” Kahei contemplating with herself. “I didn’t even feel like this on my debut stage…what is going on?”

She was completely in her zone, immersed in her own world of thoughts. At this moment, Choerry noticed her unnie was a bit strange today. Kept spacing out, and being oddly quieter than usual. This piqued up Choerry’s interest, so she decided to get to the bottom of this. But to do that, she must rescue Kahei from her own world and bring her back to reality. Choerry asked Kahei if she could join her V Live session, as she needed someone to teach her Cantonese and engage with foreign fans.

For a brief moment, Kahei did forget about her own troubles and had a great time with Choerry. They laughed, they joked around and they conversed with their fans as well. Two hours flew by as they prepared to wrap up their live streaming session.

“안녕!~拜拜!~”

As their V Live came to an end, Choerry began searching for clues like Harry Potter in the Chamber of Secrets.

“Unnie, you looked concerned today, is something wrong?”

This question caught her by surprise, but it’s just the wrong timing. She is not ready to open up about her secrets, let alone revealing her secret date with Yeojin and you. The only rational response she can come up with is to ensure Choerry that everything is under control.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just…”

Words nearly slipped out from her lips, but she consciously stopped herself from revealing everything.

“Just…?” Choerry tried to continue her sentence.

“Sorry about that…Yerim-ah, I can’t tell you right now. It is a secret of mine. But I promise you I am okay, so don’t worry about it ya? When the timing is right, I will tell you everything about it.”

Initially Choerry was going to press for more answers out of curiosity. But then, she saw Kahei’s eyes.

That piercing gaze, shined with determination and power.

This is the eyes of someone who is ready to risk it all to protect something they really cherish. This is the stare of someone who plans to go all in with no regrets.

“Trust me on this one.” Kahei added.

Her eyes rendered Choerry speechless. At that moment, she knew that her unnie was being serious. She knows that this is no joking matter, and she needs to resolve it by herself without disruptions from a third party.

“I see…I understand. Of course I trust you unnie. I’ll be here whenever you are ready to talk about it.” Choerry answered. “After all, you are my beloved Bbi-haengnim after all!”

She gave her a peck on her cheeks. Kahei smiled, relieved that Choerry will be there for her when the time comes.

After that, they split up and Kahei went back to her room and rested.

“What a chaotic way to start the day, my heart is off time…” Kahei talking to herself once again. “I wonder what he’s doing now…is he thinking about me?”

Meanwhile, around 2000 miles away…

“I wonder what she's doing now…is she thinking about me?”

As soon as you thought of that, a familiar tune broke your room’s silence.

“너무나도 멋진 너 아무렇지 않은 척 나 조금씩 너의 옆에…~”

Of course you set Kahei’s debut track as your phone’s notification ringtone, of course you did. You picked up your phone, and it is a notification for a live stream from V Live. You wanted to catch up with the girls, or even better, catch a glimpse of your best friend Kahei. But sadly, the livestream ended a few minutes ago.

“Stupid V Live notifications, always delayed for no reason.” You complained. “Thank goodness HYBE bought your glitchy app. Now how am I supposed to know what she's doing?”

You know that you can’t really just text Kahei willy-nilly because other members or managers can pick up her phone instead.

“How am I going to live through these seven days? Why don’t I just buy tomorrow’s ticket instead…” You regretted the fact that you missed the opportunity to meet her earlier, but all the seats are already unavailable at the moment. You slumped back into your bed trying to get some sleep.

1 hour went by. Not a wink of sleep. Your mind is crowded with endless possibilities for that day. You decided to roam around your apartment.

“I sure am fortunate.” You said, while walking around your place. It is hard to find affordable housing in Hong Kong, but you managed to rent a small apartment unit in the Central District with three of your friends, thanks to your uncle who owned this place. He didn’t give you the apartment for free obviously, but you sure have discounts that make it cheaper than others.

For now all three of your friends have either been on their holidays elsewhere, or just went back to their hometowns, leaving you alone in the premises.

“I guess I’ll just open up my commissions again, might need that extra cash in Korea…” You kept talking to yourself. Being alone for quite some time earned you the habit to talk with yourself. It might sound crazy but it does let you organize your thoughts a bit.

As a freelance artist, your income is based on people requesting for artworks. Sometimes you get wacky requests with a very specific image in their minds, but it's your job after all.

“Bleep.”

Your computer reminded you a new buyer had just ordered a custom art of their choice.

“Well, time to work!” You exclaimed.

And that should keep you busy for the rest of your day.

-6 days till scheduled trip-

“Yesterday was absolutely horrendous.” You thought.

You just finished your artwork and it was ready to be submitted to your client. But a flash of lightning shorted out the fuse of your apartment.

The good news is, your computer and other devices are completely fine.

The bad news is, your progress for the past two hours has been wasted.

That’s why you pulled an all-nighter just to catch up your progress and finally finished at 3:14 a.m. No wonder you woke up at 2pm this afternoon.

“I’m starving.”

Now that you are alone, you don't have the luxury to have meals prepared by your housemates, which means you need to go through all the hassle to cook it yourself.

You learned how to cook by watching Gordon Ramsey on YouTube. But of course, you are not cooking like a chef, you’re not a 5 star Michelin after all. You are just a regular guy who picked up cooking as a hobby, but also can prepare decent meals by yourself that are presentable.

Your cooking style and preferences mimics what you saw on Chef Ramsey’s channel, so it’s mostly Western Cuisine.

But today is different. Kahei is on your mind right now. You want to learn to cook something that you know she would like.

“Maybe it's been a while since she had eaten local foods, she’s been in Korea the entire time after all…”

With that in mind, you decided to make potstickers from scratch, since this is what she used to eat during your legendary school days.

-Timeskip-

An hour has passed and your potstickers are finally done.

“Hey, that’s pretty good!” You exclaimed while tasting your work of art. “I probably should bring some to Korea, I bet she would like it!”

Pondering, a familiar tune rang again.

“Dammit V Live, you better not be delayed this time…what do you have for me now?”

You foolishly thought that was a V Live notification, but no. Kahei’s name flashes on the screen, she just sent you a message. But just when you tried to open it, the message immediately rescinded.

Perplexed, you texted back.

“What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing nothing, I…I just misclicked that’s all. Sorry about that.”

Weird.

But stranger things happened.

Her name flashed on your screen once again, but this time…it’s a call.

She would usually ask you if you are free before calling you. Impromptu chatting sessions don't usually occur between you two, which makes you feel even more confused. You eventually picked up the phone, worrying that something serious just happened.

“...Kahei?”

“I just want to tell you…that I’m looking forward to our date. I miss you so so much…”

Well that was unexpectedly daring of her, you thought.

“I miss you too Kahei. I hope that I can see you as soon as possible.”

“Unnggh…me too.”

She sounded…different. Her voice doesn't sound chipper as usual.

“Kahei, are you exercising? You sounded like you were out of breath now, is everything okay?”

“I’m…fine.”

“You should put that on a T-shirt, it’s like your go to catchphrase at this point.” You chuckled. But Kahei doesn't seem to be amused. Her side went silent for a while, and out of nowhere, she asked you a question.

“What…what are you going to do with me when you arrive here?”

That was WAY too bold, you thought. It doesn’t sound like the conserved, shy Kahei you know, but you decide to ignore all the red flags and answer her question anyways.

“I want to go shopping with you, I want to spend time with you, I want to visit your dorm, your vocal room, I want to hang out with you beneath the stars with you…”

And the list goes on. You mentioned everything you wanted to experience with her…but you left out the most important part.

“And also…I want to make love with you.”

Knowing that she doesn’t like profanity, you chose your words carefully.

“...more…” Kahei’s voice sounded sultry, like she was yearning for your attention and wanted you to express your lust and fantasy onto her. One line wasn’t enough, she needed you to be honest with yourself and pour out your heart for her.

“I want to mess you up, I want to fill you up until you become mine and mine only.”

“Mmmh…!” Kahei moaned.

Is she…pleasuring herself? You continued.

“I want to thrust my shaft inside your womb, I want to shoot my semen into your deepest part and let you cum until you can’t walk. I want to pleasure you until you beg me for more, I want to make out with you from sunset to sunrise. I want…”

Before you can finish bombarding your lust onto her, she interrupts you.

“I…can’t…hold it back any longer!” Kahei exclaimed. And then, silence filled your room.

Baffled by what just happened, you tried to reconnect with her.

“Kahei…? What is happening? Are you masturb-”

-Click-

She hung up.

The only thing left with you is your fully erect shaft, clearly aroused by your conversation just now.

“What the hell is going on today? Is the universe falling apart?”

Of course not, you silly bollocks. But you had so many questions. What was happening on the other side of the phone? Was she suddenly in heat and wanted to masturbate, or maybe you just got NTRed?

You calmed yourself down, and tried to think rationally.

“She could be pleasuring herself, or maybe she…no no no no no no no.” You don’t even want to think about anyone else laying their hands on her.

“Balance of probability suggests that she is more likely to be touching herself. Yes, that must be it…”

You almost went through seven stages of grief just to rationalize about what just happened. Your phone interrupted your train of thoughts.

-Three new messages-

Kahei: Sorry about what just happened. Please…just forget everything just now. Here is something to compensate for your troubles.

Kahei: Try to think about me tonight, okay? I hope that picture can help you relieve some tension tonight…if you need to.

Jason: Of course I need to.

What a wild day, with so many questions unanswered. But at this moment, the only thing that captured your attention was that picture she sent you.

What an arousing expression.

A perfect balance between cuteness and seductiveness, this might be the best selca you have ever seen, and the most effective too. Her plump lips with that provocative tongue flick, nobody could have resisted that.

You simply cannot handle it anymore, you picked up your phone and walked straight into your washroom…

-Four hours ago-

Another practically schedule-less day for Kahei. At this point in time, it didn’t really bother her at all. In fact, she kinda enjoyed it. Having free time in your own vocal room just to chillax, develop interests and improve yourself as an artist, which introvert wouldn’t want that?

But then.

“Unnieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~”

A loud voice broke the peaceful silence she was enjoying. There are only a few members that are capable of producing this much noise, but Kahei knew exactly who she was.

“God, Yeojin…” Kahei sighed. “Everyday I wonder where you get your energy from…”

She was not exaggerating at all. Being the loudspeaker of the group, Yeojin does exude big energy vibes.

“I guess I’m just naturally high all the time!”

“So…what’s the occasion? You don’t do THAT if you don’t have something in your mind.” Kahei asked, thinking that she might need some favors to ask.

“Well, since you are free unnie, I want to ask you about something I had in mind for a while…”

Kahei shuddered. Millions of possible scenarios flashed across her eyes.

What is on her mind? Will she bring up that subject? Will she ask questions about Jason? Will she…

“Can you go shopping with me?”

“Huh?”

Kahei still hasn't gotten back her senses yet.

“My clothes are getting stale, I want to add more into my collection.” Yeojin said. “I might need your assistance unnie, you have impeccable fashion taste after all!”

“I…I do?” Kahei was flattered by Yeojin’s unexpected praise. Gowon is usually the fashionista in the group, she does have a futuristic fashion sense after all. But getting that compliment from Yeojin is a huge serotonin boost for Kahei, since Yeojin’s photos on Instagram always garnered a lot of attention and adoration from fans.

“Alright then, I’ll go with you.” Kahei agreed. “Any particular stores in mind?”

Too easy, Yeojin thought. Invisible horns appeared from her head. Looks like everything is going according to her plan, whatever that plan was.

And just like that, their trip to fashion-land takes off.

At first glance, their mini-trip looked innocent enough without arousing suspicion. They hop from store to store picking outfits that caught their eyes. From street to street, Zara to Uniqlo, browsing through the latest fashion trends.

Kahei is not a big shopper, but she still chose some clothes and accessories that would fit well in her gradually expanding collection. Just when she thought their excursion was coming to an end, Yeojin expressed that there is one more shop she was dying to visit.

“Yeojin-ah, my legs are a bit sore…can’t we go some other day?” Kahei tried to negotiate for a break.

“No no no no no unnie,,,this place is very special to me, I really want to show you for a while now. I promise it won’t take long, pleeeease?”

Yeojin’s eyes sparkle with hope, shining brighter than the sun above. Kahei couldn't possibly upset her maknae, so she caved in and headed towards the final station of their mysterious journey.

One taxi trip later, they arrived at their destination. Kahei was still clueless as to where she was. But it is very apparent that Yeojin is very used to this place, as she navigates the area without GPS. Alas, she stopped in front of a red building.

“...Yeojin? Why are we here?”

‘Red Container’, big white letters appeared as its storefront signage. The problem is, beside it are the words ‘Adult Shop’.

“Tada!”

“...” Words failed to come out from Kahei’s mouth. Realization kicks in that from this moment on, everything is going towards a VERY different direction.

Without waiting for her to react, Yeojin dragged her into the shop, and the first thing she saw was an entire aisle dedicated for adult toys of all shapes and sizes.

“What…WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON???”

“Language, Vivi unnie!” Yeojin added. “Relax, I’m just here to restock. Gowon unnie broke my vibrator last night, so I had no choice but to splurge on another one of these.”

She picked up a white box with the label ‘Fireman’ on it.

“This is one of the best products that they offer, it’s called fireman because he will come for your rescue, hahahahahahahaha get it?” Yeojin is still in her euphoric mode, completely ignoring Kahei, who is still in shock.

“But unnie, this is not the main attraction yet, the second floor is where the magic happens.”

Yeojin dragged Kahei to the second floor, which just happens to be the store’s outfit and costume section.

“Didn’t we just buy clothes for like, an hour ago? Do we really need more?”

“Unnie, these outfits are not for us, you know.”

Yeojin’s smile disappeared. A serious expression replaced her upbeat mood with an instant.

“I am aware that you are meeting your boyfriend next week, and I am tagging along as well.”

“We’re…not a couple at this moment…” Kahei tried to explain the complicated relationship between the both of you.

“So…you’re admitting you two are just sex friends?”

“No! Not like that! It’s just that we've known each other for such a long time, but I never know if he is interested in me…”

“Oh my God kimchi unnie���You really ARE dense, aren’t you? You really think that he would do all that, but has absolutely zero feelings towards you?”

“I've never been in a relationship before, how am I supposed to know?”

Yeojin sighed.

“Alright then. If you want this to work out, you are going to need some assistance. And luckily for you, I’m here.” Yeojin started planning their attack plans like a military strategist.

“Here’s our goal. I want him to fall head over heels for you when you two lovebirds meet next week, alright? To let that happen, I need your full cooperation, can you do that?”

“I…” Kahei muttered. She is afraid that being honest might just ruin your relationship. But stuck in this status quo is not a viable long-term solution either. She needed to make a choice, no matter how difficult it was.

With a deep breath, she finally made a decision that will change her life completely.

“I will do it.”

And there it is.

“I will do it, Yeojin. You have my full attention and cooperation. No turning back now.”

Yeojin saw flames arise from Kahei’s eyes. The familiar expression that shined with determination like before reappeared.

“Alright! Both feet are in the battlefield now, we’ll be needing some supplies. Let’s start by choosing our battling armor.”

This section of the shop displayed all kinds of clothing, including those specifically designed for cosplay events or role-playing.

“So, do you know what oppa likes?” Yeojin says. “Except for twin tails of course…”

“How did you…”

“Unnie, I heard mostly everything, alright? Don’t worry about it.”

Kahei blushed.

“During our Hi High era, he told me that I looked good in my outfit, he kept on complimenting it. So maybe a miniskirt would be ideal?”

“Hi High era clothes huh, I do look cute in those. Crop tops and miniskirts it is then. Gosh, we should just wear our stage outfits to surprise him. But at the same time, it’s too recognizable in public…”

Both Yeojin and Kahei scanned the section for any costumes that would fit the description. While searching for apparel, Kahei was fascinated about the costumes on display.

“Cat ears? Do people really like these? I guess Hyunjin would buy these I imagine.”

Naturally Aeongie Hyunjin comes to mind. Of course she would buy those.

“Unnie! I think I found something!”

Yeojin found a blue sailor halter top with a small anchor at the center. She also found a miniskirt with the same color to compliment the top. This particular costume is extremely bold, as the wearer’s back, midriff and legs will be on full display when this outfit is equipped.

“I can’t wear something like this! It’s too embarrassing!” Kahei objected.

“Boo boo…fine, I’ll have it then. They do have another similar one too, I think that might suit you unnie.”

Rustling through racks and racks of clothes, Yeojin managed to find another similar outfit. This one is also blue sailor themed, but instead of a top and miniskirt, it is a one-piece dress with the same anchor in the middle.

“I guess I can go with this one.” Kahei finally settled in.

“Alright, let’s try it out!”

Both girls entered separate changing booths and tried out their newly found outfit.

”Oh…?!” Kahei gasped. That’s not a look you would see everyday.

One-piece dresses usually have the ability to bring out one's slim figure and show off their legs, and this dress is not an outlier either. Although not as revealing as the one Yeojin had, this one had the perfect length just enough to accentuate Kahei’s legs.

She was very pleased that Yeojin picked this outfit for her.

“I’m sure Jason will like this outfit.” Kahei smiled while talking to herself. She envisioned the scene where both of you met at the airport…

*Kahei’s fantasy POV*

“Oppa! You finally came to visit me!”

“Kahei, sorry to keep you waiting.”

“You should have planned this earlier, you know?”

“I’m sorry sweetie, but I really tried. But at least I’m here right? Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“Of course I am! You have been on my mind lately, you don’t even know how much I missed you these days…”

After a short conversation, both of you went into a cab. You promptly told the driver your desired destination, which is none other than…a love hotel.

Things are about to get steamy.

Kahei imagined you kissing on her luscious lips, your tongues intertwined with each other and creating a string of saliva.

“Oppa, you are too forceful…mmngh~”

Kahei was still daydreaming about the suggestive scene she hoped would happen next week. But the sensation felt real, also something was touching her crotch…

Kahei opened her eyes, and Yeojin appeared in front of her, as her lips were forcefully pressed against hers.

“Hee hee…looks like someone is fantasizing about something dirty~”

“Yeojin!”

When did she slip inside her booth?

“Unnie, I think your first kiss belongs to me now! We have to practice and train together before you do the real deal with oppa, you don’t want him to be disappointed right?”

Yeojin’s hands slid into Kahei’s skirt and started rubbing her clitoris in a circular motion, making her completely immersed into a trance.

“Just imagine these are oppa’s big, strong hands, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“J…Jason~”

Your name escaped her mouth, as she began to move her hips to match the pacing as well.

“It’s so big and thick…Something weird is happening!”

A patch of wet marks appeared on her panties as Yeojin’s fingers kept sliding in and out of her sacred hole. But it is very obvious that this level of satisfaction is not enough, so Yeojin moved to her back and began to caress her perky breasts as well.

“Eeek!”

“Unnie you really have beautiful tits you know, too bad I’m the one who will be enjoying first~”

Yeojin continued to massage her breasts while pinching her already erect nipples.

“I wish mine were as bouncy and elastic as yours…do you know how many fans fawn over you for that ‘Shake It’ stage? They only gave me that bartender outfit while you get that sexy blue dress, I’m envious…”

“Iwamnnotawareeofthat…” Kahei slurred her speech as she was engulfed by waves of ecstasy while Yeojin displayed no signs of stopping.

“Oh? Unnie can’t handle this kind of pleasure? I never knew that our Bbihaeng-nim would turn into such a slutty unnie~ Is Jason-oppa really that turning you on? Your lewd expression is all over the place!”

Kahei saw her expression reflected by the full-body mirror in front of them,

“...Is this really me?”

Her hair was messy, a ring of tears pooled around her eyes, her tongue was sticking out and she was making an incredibly erotic face while squelching sounds can heard.

“Yeojin…you really need to stop…or else I might be addicted to this~”

“This is just the practice run you know?”

“I‘m…I’m cumming!”

Kahei's body tensed up as orgasmed. Her pupils dilated, electricity ran through her body from top to bottom as she couldn't control her body anymore.

"That...was amazing..."

Kahei plopped down on the floor as fluids gushed out from her ravaged vagina.

Yeojin grinned, admiring her work of art, but then a dirty idea came upon her.

She took Kahei's phone while she was still in cloud nine, and took a picture of her messed up body and elated expression.

"Aaaand...send!"

Kahei finally snapped back and noticed her phone was in Yeojin's hand. She quickly snatched it back and figured out what she was doing.

Jason: [Picture sent]

“Yeojin! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Might as well give oppa some material to work with…right?”

Kahei quickly retracted the message she sent, hoping that you didn’t see it.

[What's up?]

“Thank goodness I was fast enough…What were you thinking Yeojin?” Kahei exclaimed.

[Oh…nothing nothing, I…I just misclicked that’s all. Sorry about that.]

Yeojin barged in.

“Gosh you two love birds need to be honest about yourselves!”

She snatched the phone and proceeded to call your number. And no surprise, you picked up.

“...Kahei?”

Not prepared for this occasion, Kahei didn’t know what to say, but Yeojin had a better idea.

“Tell him you missed him so much, unnie!! Try to express yourself as much as you can.” Yeojin whispered into her ear, instructing her how to give a proper response.

Kahei tried her best to give a heartfelt response, exposing her deepest desire to be with you.

“That’s the spirit!” Yeojin whispered again. “Now to add some zing to your conversation…”

As you are sending back your response, Yeojin restarted her attack on Kahei’s private parts. Startled by this sudden ambush, her response sounded more and more suspicious.

“Unnggh…me too.”

“Unnie, you have to keep it down a notch or else he will surely notice it!”

Your conversation kept on going, but Kahei couldn't really hear what  you were saying at this point, her flames had just been reignited by Yeojin, plus your deep voice turned her on even more.

“What…what are you going to do with me when you arrive here?”

Kahei tried her best to be frank with you but also secretly wanting to hear about your truest thoughts.

As you are listing out all the things you want to experience with her, Yeojin also couldn’t contain herself anymore. Playing Kahei wasn’t enough, she needed to be fulfilled as well. She unpacked the newly bought toy and slowly inserted it into her drenched pussy.

“...more…” Kahei instructed you to tell her even more ways you want to mess her up.

Every single word you said excites her more and more, every scene you described evoked her innermost sexual desires.

"I...I can't..."

Kahei and Yeojin both reached their peak at the same time. They heaved for gasps of breath, while their bodies began to calm down.

"Kahei?...Are you m-"

Perfect timing. Yeojin abruptly ended the call.

"Haah...we can't reveal everything to him yet, there is a time and place for that...As for you unnie, you did a great job today. I like your honest side more."

Yeojin kissed Kahei once more, missing their love fluids together. Slowly but surely, they regained their senses back.

Kahei, on the other hand, is still having you on her mind. She knew you were going to be worried about herself after this bizarre interaction.

"Yeojin, oppa must have felt worried and intrigued. What should I tell him?"

"We'll need something to occupy his mind for the moment. Something bold, something direct, something that would make him go crazy…How about sending him a sexy picture of you?"

“What? I don’t have those kinds of pictures just lying around!”

“You don’t?”

“No!”

“But I do have some, just in case of emergencies.”

“Emergencies?” Kahei sighed. “Never mind, I don’t think I want to know the entire story. But I do have one picture that he might like…I took it during our Summer Package photoshoot, is this okay?”

Yeojin glanced at the photo in question and gave it a satisfying pass.

“This is absolutely perfect, ViVi-unnie. He would be falling on his knees when he receives this picture, so let me help you out.”

And so, Yeojin sent you the photo and gave you permission to use it as your heart desired.

After all the shenanigans, they both went back to their dorms and called it a day, and what a day indeed.

-4 days till scheduled trip-

Nothing particular happened in your household, you are alone in your place after all. But that cannot be said about loonathedorm, where seismic events are indeed unfolding.

Heejin and Hyunjin are dating somewhere in Daegu, Haseul is buying her fifth Gucci bag in LA, OEC are in the studio recording for their next Japanese solo ‘Sick Love’, Yves is riding the Swan Paddle Boat at Han River, Gowon is in a convenience store promoting her own Gowon Meal Set, Chuu is in a forest somewhere planting trees and trying her best to save the world, and Olivia Hye is touching up her arm tattoo in an underground tattoo parlor. You might have noticed that two members in particular are missing.

“The stars aligned and we are alone, Bbi-haengnim~”

“You were in my bed as soon as I woke up! How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to admire your body hehe~”

“Yeojin...Are you drunk?”

“Unnie! Do I really look like a drunkard who drinks at 2 in the afternoon?”

Yeojin did look dazed, but if it wasn't alcohol, what is the cause of this reaction?

“Actually, I woke up this morning and I felt…different. My heart was pounding so fast, knowing that we are all alone.”

“Yeojin…”

“I love you, ViVi-unnie, I really do. You’ve been caring for me since my debut, showering me with love because I am the smallest in the group, I really fell in love with you since then. But…”

There is a certain sadness reflected in Yeojin’s eyes, as she knows that Kahei had already fallen in love with another individual.

But Yeojin is very rational. She knows that in order to love someone, you need to make them happy and respect their choices.

“I know that Jason oppa is THE special someone in your life, I can see it in your eyes. That’s why I will make sure to help you get ready in every single scenario possible.”

Without waiting for a response, Yeojin unleashed a barrage of kisses. At first, Kahei didn't really like it. She is not someone who would willingly give or receive intimacy on a regular basis.

But after yesterday’s events, something changed within her. She became more open to Yeojin's bold attacks, even trying to give back some love too.

“Yeojin-ah, you really act like a spoiled baby you know?” Kahei smiled while taking the lead for the first time ever.

Yeojin was taken aback by her actions.

“Unnie? Mmmh!”

Kahei denied Yeojin’s freedom of speech as she worked her tongue past her lips to dive into her delicate mouth.

“I guess it’s officially no longer kiss later now.”

“Unnie…you’re scaring me now…I should’ve taken the lead!”

“Nope, not today. You had your way last time, now it’s punishment time.”

Those eyes. That gaze. That power. The same determination.

Kahei got on top of Yeojin and looked down into her eyes, the tank top she was wearing highlighted her slim yet muscular arms. She lifted Yeojin’s chin up and gave her first command.

“Stick your tongue out.”

Yeojin was terrified, it’s almost like she completely transformed into another person. But…she felt a tingling sensation spreading through her body, entering into uncharted territory. But her body doesn’t reject it despite the fact that being in a submissive and vulnerable position is new to her. She realized that deep down she wanted to be dominated. Dominated by her beloved unnie.

"Yesh…" Yeojin obeyed.

Kahei locked her hands together and pressed them against the bed in an upright position, denying the possibility of Yeojin escaping.

Without any signs of hesitation, Kahei planted a deep kiss and twisted her tongue inside of Yeojin's mouth. By instinct, she tried to break free but Kahei held on to her position firmly. Tears rolled down Yeojin's cheeks as her consciousness slowly fades away.

Finally Kahei loosened her grip.

"Bwaaah…I…I thought I was going to die there…"

"We're not done yet." Kahei smiled while flicking her tongue. "You taste like banana milk, I might need more of that."

"Wait! Wh…"

Kahei continues to enjoy her second serving of Yeojin. Her tongue didn't stay at one place like before, it followed down to her neck, her collar bone and eventually her chest. Kahei removed her shirt to find out that she wasn't wearing any undergarments beneath.

Although her height was underdeveloped, her chest is entirely a different story.

"I guess all that banana milk went to good use there~" Kahei grinned.

Two years ago Yeojin would probably rank in the bottom three in terms of volume within LOONA members, but now she has grown out of her cutie pie phase. Lately she has become more mature, more adult-like. Her ample breasts really stand out in contrast with her tiny figure, no wonder she is so popular amongst male fans.

"I'm so envious of you, Yeojin. You grew up so well…"

Kahei slowly caressed Yeojin's stiffened clit and licked her nipples, making a circular motion around it.

"Unnie…when did you become so good at this…mmmgh!"

Her pink nipples became hard and erect, drool leaked out from the corner of her mouth as she desperately gasped for air.

"I'm cumming…I'm cummingggggg!" Yeojin squealed as her petite body shuddered in delight.

"Looks like you're enjoying yourself there."

As Yeojin's vision began to clear up, she noticed a hint of sadness in Kahei’s eyes.

"Unnie, we…we have to train for 4 more days, I know it is difficult for you to hold back your feelings for this long." Yeojin said while trying to catch her breath. "When you are doing it with me, you are thinking about Jason-oppa isn't it?"

"You noticed?"

"Of course I do! I know what my role is, and we don't have a lot of time to prepare…but I am sure you are ready to meet him."

"Really?"

"We will have to wait until that day to find out…."

Kahei wondered what she was talking about, but Yeojin collapsed onto the bed and passed out.

"Guess I'll find out, I hope Jason can come sooner…"

Oh you will.

-6 hours till scheduled trip-

Time flies.

It's your moment.

This is it, as big as you're gonna get, so enjoy it.

You simply couldn’t sleep yesterday, as you had waited for this moment all week. For the past few days talks and chats between you and Kahei were not that frequent, as Luminous promos are closing in, but you two still manage to converse a bit.

You checked your tickets over and over again, just to confirm the dates and terminal gates are correct. You still had a bit of time to kill, so you opened up your favOriTe game - SuperStar LOONA and played her solo Everyday I Love You.

Meanwhile...

It’s 9:30 a.m. in Korea. Kahei is not waiting alone, Yeojin is also by her side.

Both of them are anxious about your arrival for different reasons. Kahei is uneasy because she wanted to be reunited with you for such a long time, and this day finally came. Yeojin is nervous because he is going to meet you for the first time without you even knowing it, there are so many things that could go wrong.

“ViVi-unnie, should we go now?”

Kahei knows that there is still time until your arrival. “No rush, Yeojin. He should be departing anytime soon, but the flight from Hong Kong to here is 3 hours long.”

“So…does that mean we have a bit of time for extra preparation?”

“No more training, Yeojin. Gosh, did you forget what happened yesterday?”

“Oh right…”

The training sessions for the past few days were wild. For most of the time, the sessions went smoothly. They played around, experimented with different techniques, toys and positions, all to prepare for this big day. But yesterday, boy oh boy they nearly messed up and got caught by other members.

Kahei and Yeojin are training in their bedroom alone as usual, with Kahei being the dominant one. They failed to notice that on that particular day, Choerry was actually present in another room. The sound of Yeojin moaning and panting caught Choerry’s attention, so she knocked on their doors.

“Yeojin-ah, is everything okay?”

That caught them by surprise, as they hurriedly tidied up their clothes and bed sheets.

“I’m…I’m fine unnie. ViVi-unnie is here with me, we were just…exercising!”

“Hmmmmm…alright then. Don’t overdo yourselves ya?”

Kahei was relieved. “Phew…”

“Alright, no more practice today.” Yeojin says. “I think we have sufficient training already! So tell me unnie, how did you two meet?”

“That… is a long long story. Maybe I will tell you all in the next episode.”

“Episode?”

“Ah…I mean next time, next time. Since we have time, should we just grab something to eat?”

“Let’s go!”

And off they go.

“Game Over~” Kahei’s voice boomed when you inevitably failed Hi High hard mode for the nth time again.

“I should have just stuck to my plan of beating the high score for Everyday I Love You…” you groaned.

Of course you bought her voice pack, of course you do. That is the entire point of this game for you to hear her lovely voice cheering you on when you succeed. But sadly hard mode is just too hard for you to conquer at this point.

You looked at the time and realized you probably should be heading out to HKIA by now. You called a cab and headed towards your destination. 15 minutes later, you arrived at the airport terminal.

-3 hours and 30 minutes till scheduled trip-

“Welcome aboard Hong Kong Airlines.”

The moment that sound appeared, you snapped back to reality, knowing that you will see your dearest friend in a couple of hours. And hopefully after this, you two will be more than friends.

Excitement pumped through your blood vessels as the plane takes off. You experienced the longest 3 hours and 30 minutes of your life, as you couldn’t sleep like other passengers. Your entire mind has been focused on meeting with Kahei and nothing fazes you anymore.

Not the ongoing turbulence, not the one passenger who kept asking the stewardess for snacks, not even the gentleman beside you who snores like a freight train.

Kahei and Yeojin also noticed that the time has come for them to fetch you up at the airport. They quickly get dressed and make sure to present themselves at their best for you. In the cab, Yeojin starts to worry that you might not want her involvement.

“Unnie…what if oppa is mad at you because you unraveled secrets to me? I mean I know I discovered them but he might have other theories. What if he's disappointed? What if…”

“Relax, Yeojin. We knew each other for a long time and I can tell you that he is one of the most considerate and kind people I have ever known.” Kahei reassures. “I am sure he will understand our situation, and we will make it up for him later, won’t we?”

“Oh that’s right! We will have our three-”

Kahei immediately stopped Yeojin for blurting out sensitive information.

“Shhhh! Don’t say it out loud!”

“Hee hee~”

A few moments later, they arrived at the airport. Luckily for them, the electrical board says that your flight will be arriving in about 10 minutes.

“I can’t wait.” Kahei sighed.

“I can’t wait,” You sighed. But then the captain informed all passengers to buckle in as you are approaching the airway for landing.

Alas, you arrived at Seoul, the heart of Korea.

-5 minutes till scheduled trip-

Korean air smells different. For starters, it is way clearer here then your hometown as the quality of air in Hong Kong is considered a serious matter. But now is not the time to admire the air quality, no. You are finally about to meet Kahei for the first time in years.

As you approached the arrival terminal, you kept looking for any signs of Kahei.

“Is she here?” You started talking with yourself. “Perhaps she is stuck in traffic, or maybe she forgot? Where are y…oh? OH?”

A figure appeared through the crowd. And there she is, the moment you’ve been dreaming for. Her luscious dark hair with her slender figure really stands out from others.

Your eyes met, gaze locked onto each other. You ran towards her direction and hugged her.

“Kahei! It’s been so long!”

“I can finally see you in person, you let me wait for so long!”

“I am sorry, I’ll make sure to make it up for you. Hmm?”

You noticed there is one more person peeking out behind Kahei.

“Wait a minute…Yeojin? Why are you here?”

Do you know Yeojin personally? Of course not. But as a LOONA fan, you obviously know who other members are, and seeing another LOONA member present confused you.

“Hello oppa! Im Yeojin here! ViVi-unnie told me a loooot about you!”

“Wh-”

A confused expression appeared on your face, as you couldn't understand what was going on.

Kahei noticed your troubling look.

“Jason, I can explain…”

She went on and told you about how Yeojin found out your secrets and planned to join you two.

“I understand you want this to be between us, but Yeojin has helped me to find courage and strength to be here. Can she join us?”

What kind of man would turn down an opportunity to go out with two LOONA members?

“Alright. I guess us three will be stuck together for a while.” You accepted your fate and followed the two girls.

Yeojin was unusually excited.

“Since you are not familiar with the surroundings, oppa…we decided to plan a little trip just for the three of us!”

“Alright, Yeojin. I will follow your lead then.”

Three of you went into a cab. You presumed that they are bringing you to some local eateries, or maybe visit their dorm. But when you arrived at your destination, you found out that your hypothesis was completely off course.

The sign says ‘Love Hotel’.

“Kahei…why are we here?”

“Oppa…you’ll see.”

I believe you will.

To be continued…

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

There Never Was a Choice

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 4. Betrayal, 6. Forced to Hurt Someone Else, 13. Crushed, 14. Field Medicine, 16. Amputation, 29. Forced to Choose Fandom: For All Mankind, Ed Baldwin, f!reader Summary: When an accident on Jamestown Base leaves you trapped, Ed must make an impossible decision. Word Count: 3702 TW: Amputation, Heartbreak, Depression, Begging, Betrayal, Language, Implied Age Gap in Relationship Notes: Thank you to @loverhymeswith for the GIF and ask that inspired this fic! 💖 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Takes place between season 2 and season 3

Even before he opened his eyes, Ed heard the screaming. It was a high-pitched keen of agony that was reverberating all around the tight enclosed space. And while he knew he needed to get up—to go investigate—the back of his head was throbbing so fiercely that he didn’t even want to open his eyes for fear of making it somehow worse. All he wanted to do was sink back into the dark numbing abyss and sleep off the pain.

“Get this goddamn thing off me!”

Ed’s eyes snapped open before quickly recoiling from the light. However, he blinked away the pain and forced himself up onto unsteady feet. All desire to succumb to unconsciousness evaporated the moment he heard your agonized voice and realized it had been you screaming this whole time. Instead, a fresh wave of adrenaline and dread pushed him forward towards the crowd of people on the other side of the room.

As the other astronauts noticed him approaching, they silently moved aside, everyone avoiding his gaze. And it was then that he finally saw you. 

You were lying on your back in a pool of blood that was slowly growing larger. At first glance, you seemed relatively fine. There were some small cuts on your face and arm but nothing that would put you in the kind of agony he had heard moments before. But then Ed noticed your left arm disappearing beneath a pile of twisted metal beside you. He had no idea where the debris had come from, however, it had clearly trapped your arm beneath it. 

Your face was pinched in pain but as soon as you saw him standing there, it softened slightly. “Ed,” you moaned, reaching out toward him with your freed arm. He quickly knelt down and took your hand in his. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he asked incredulously. “You’re the one currently pinned beneath heavy machinery.”

“Yeah, well, it’s obvious I’m not alright. But you hit your head in the explosion and that can’t be good for you, old man.” You were trying to stay upbeat and your usual snarky self, but underneath the forced levity, Ed could hear the pain and fear in your voice. 

“I think we both know there’s not much up there worth damaging,” he joked back, trying to keep the same false lighthearted tone as you were. Squeezing your hand tighter, he added, “But I’ll be alright and so will you. Just wait and we’ll get you outta there.”

You snorted. “Where am I gonna go?” 

But then a shiver of pain ran through your body. Your face twisted into an agonized grimace as you squeezed Ed’s hand so tightly he felt his bones crunch in your grasp. However, he made no move to stop you. Instead, he brushed the hair off your face with his free hand and waited for your pain to fade. 

Once your grip lessened some and you seemed to relax, Ed murmured, “Hey, I’ll be right back, okay? I just need a minute then we’ll get this figured out. Hold on.”

You nod and reluctantly let go of his hand. As he stood up, Ed grabbed the closest person to him and pulled the young man across the room so they were out of your earshot. The man seemed flustered and unsure of why he had been dragged away, but Ed put up a hand before he could speak. 

Glancing down at his suit, Ed saw his patch read “N. Corrado” and after scouring his still foggy brain for a moment, he remembered you mentioned your friend Nick was coming to the moon on the next rotation along with the supplies. Considering this man had just arrived two days earlier and was the only astronaut Ed hadn’t recognized, he was pretty sure he must now be speaking to your friend.

“What happened? Start at the beginning.” Nick opened his mouth but Ed interrupted once more. “I need the quick and concise version.”

And that was what Nick gave him. 

They had been trying to update Jamestown and expand the base with new equipment they had just received from Earth a few days ago. Ed had obviously known that part. But what was news to him was that while trying to install the new air system, one of the oxygen tanks exploded, damaging not only the new system but the equipment around it as well. The team managed to throw up the emergency shields so the base wasn’t in danger of depressurizing or losing air, but there had still been two injuries in the accident.

One of the pieces had been thrown off and hit Ed in the head—hence his headache and unconsciousness—and they had carefully moved him to the other side of the room so he was out of the way while they dealt with the real problem…you.

You had been right next to the tank when it exploded, sending you, the remains of the tank, and several other parts of the base flying across the room. It was a miracle the debris had only landed on your arm and not the rest of you, otherwise they would be planning a funeral rather than an extraction.

Ed took in everything Nick said with a growing dread in his chest. That equipment was incredibly sturdy and heavy to ensure it could withstand the deadly conditions on the moon. If there was a leak or crack in any of it, it could mean the death of the entire base. Because of this, the metal was three times thicker than necessary just to be on the safe side. This was why everything had to be moved with loaders and other transportation equipment—all of which were too large to fit inside the base itself. And since you were currently pinned in one of the inner rooms of the base—

Another one of your wails filled the room as the rest of the crew tried again in vain to remove the debris. Ed buried his head in his hands, wishing there was something he could do to stop your pain. But falling apart wasn’t going to help you. Right now, you needed him to suck it up and be the leader he had been sent on this mission to be. 

So, taking a deep breath, he looked at Nick and asked, “So, what have you been trying to do to free her? Can we just turn the gravity off so we can push it off her?”

Nick shook his head. “We still don’t know how much damage the explosion caused. There’s a chance if we turn the gravity off, we won’t be able to turn it back on.”

Ed scrubbed his hand over his face. “Well, what about the saws we use for moon rocks? Can we cut the metal into smaller pieces and move them off?”

“We tried but it didn’t work on the metal.” But then Nick hesitated and Ed could see he wanted to say something else. 

“What? What is it?” When Nick still didn’t reply, Ed took a step forward and growled in his face, “Corrado, we are not leaving her there to bleed out, so tell me what you are thinking.”

Nick swallowed heavily, then mumbled, “I’m not saying we leave her. Well…Not all of her.”

The meaning of Nick’s words hit Ed like a punch to his chest. Clenching his jaw firmly, he shook his head. “No. No, we’re not doing that.”

Nick bowed his head. “Sir—”

“No! We are not cutting off her goddam arm! Do you understand me?”

“I do,” Nick muttered meekly. But then he took a deep breath, raised his head, and looked Ed straight in the eye. “But I don’t think you understand, Commander. She’s losing blood and we can’t stop that until we can actually get to her arm. And even then, we can only stop the bleeding temporarily with what we have with us here. Which means she has to go home but it takes almost two days to reach Earth in the emergency shuttle. So we need to get her out of here right now if she has any chance of surviving.”

Having finished what he needed to say, Nick withdrew into himself once more as he averted his gaze from Ed’s. Mumbling softly, he added, “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just….she’s a good friend and the best astronaut we have. I understand how horrible this decision is and if there was any other way…” 

Ed sighed. “No, you are right. I was just reacting to the situation without thinking it through. But we don’t have a choice here so we’ll do what we have to in order to save her life…Even if she hates us for it.” Nick squeezed his eyes together tightly, and Ed placed his hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be alright, son. I’ll be the one to tell her. Just…just get the others ready. She’s not gonna take this well.”

Nick nodded and quickly scurried back to where the other crew members were gathered around you. Ed watched him whisper something to the medic whose head shot up and he looked at Ed. Ed nodded his consent before slowly walking over to your side once more.

You smiled as he knelt down beside you, but it was weaker this time. Pain and exhaustion had sapped your will to put on a brave face and seeing that was the final push Ed needed to know he was making the right decision. 

Squeezing your shoulder, he said, “You need medical attention as soon as possible. I was hoping…God, I was hoping we had more time or another way, but you’re losing too much blood so we have to take the only option that will free you immediately.”

“You guys had a plan for getting me outta here just like that and you hadn’t done it? What kind of friends…” Your joke died in your throat as you watched Ed bow his head. It took a moment, but Ed felt you tense beneath his hand as soon as you realized what he was saying. Your eyes grew wide and you shrunk away from Ed as much as your pinned arm would allow. “No…you can’t mean…you can’t do that.”

Ed tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Believe me, this is the last resort. We can’t move the metal off of you which only leaves us with one option.”

“No, Ed, please! If you take my arm…that’s the end of my career. They’ll never let me in space ever again.”

He shook his head sadly. “It’s better than the end of your life if I don’t. I’m sorry. If there was any other way—”

“No! Don’t! Please! Ed…Ed, if you love me, you won’t do this.”

Ed felt every eye in the station suddenly focused on him. There of course had been rumors about the two of you—the hotshot commander and his brilliant prodigy—but there had never been any proof…until now. For two years, the two of you had managed to keep your relationship a secret but now the cat was out of the bag. However, he didn’t have time to deal with it right at that moment. Once he got you free and home safely, then he could worry about the repercussions of your relationship. Right now all he could focus on was saving your life.

Brushing a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, Ed murmured softly, “It’s because I love you that I have to do this. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

He nodded at the medic who had just stepped up next to you. The medic drove the syringe he had prepared while you and Ed were talking into your arm even as you thrashed and begged for him not to. Almost instantly, your body fell limp and your eyes rolled back in your head as the tranquilizer took effect.

For a moment, an eerily silence filled the base. All eyes were still turned to Ed, waiting for him to give the final confirmation that they should proceed. What needed to happen was horrible enough, but the fact Ed had to be the one to make that call, that he had to say the words that would change your life forever, was almost too much to bear. 

Leaning over, he pressed his lips against your sweat-drenched forehead and said a silent prayer to a God he hadn’t believed in for over a decade. Then, turning to the crew, he mumbled, “Do it.”

Unable to watch what happened next, Ed turned his back to everyone and walked to the other side of the room as one of the saws buzzed to life. Even without looking, he could hear the pitch change as the saw began to bite into your flesh and bone. 

Ed had tried to visit you every day since the two of you had landed in the escape pod and you were rushed into surgery but there had been one complication after another. Your body was still used to the conditions on the moon after having been stationed there for the past three months. Even a completely healthy body took time to readjust from that, but yours had been traumatized before reentering the atmosphere only to be then thrown into the immediate chaos of anesthesia, operations, and pain. It was no wonder they almost lost you on the table three times but somehow, mercifully, you pulled through in the end.

It took almost a full day for you to wake up after surgery but when you did and saw what had been done to you, you lost it. According to the report, it took three nurses to keep you from ripping out your IVs and tearing your stitches. It even got to the point where they had to sedate you for your own safety. And Ed had to learn all of this secondhand.

He had been examined to make sure everything was alright from where he hit his head, but then they had forced him from the hospital. Apparently, word had already gotten back to Earth before the escape pod had about his relationship with you and it was determined he should be kept far away from your recovery until there was an investigation to make sure no improprieties had led to the accident. But thankfully, Molly was slipping him any information she could on your well-being.

However, every update he got just broke him more and more. This shouldn’t be happening, not to you. You…who was on the path to lead the human race to Mars and beyond as the most talented and intuitive astronaut he had ever trained. You…who had been dreaming of exploring the vast unknown of space for longer than you could remember. You…who had turned his life around when he was spiraling into his own personal blackhole and rekindled his love for his job. 

You……who he had fallen hopelessly and completely in love with.

It seemed impossible that not so long ago you were both lying naked in his bed, your head resting on his heaving chest as you leisurely ran your fingers through his damp hair. The two of you had talked about what would happen after this mission including the very real possibility of moving in together, consequences be damned. Ed had never seen you so happy or peaceful. 

But now—

Five days after returning to Earth, Ed was finally told you had been taken off the sedatives and he was given permission to visit you. As he walked down the empty halls towards your room, he briefly wondered if Shane had taken his last breath in a place like this. So sterile. So white. So cold and unfeeling. God, he hated hospitals!

Reaching your room, he paused outside your door as he got his first glimpse of you since returning to Earth. 

Your left arm had been severed just below your elbow and layers of gauze covered the end so Ed was unable to assess how well the surgeries had gone. You were hooked up to several machines to help you readjust to being back on Earth as well as ones you needed after your operations. All of it seemed fairly standard and not too concerning. But your eyes…your eyes were a different matter.

Ed had first fallen in love with your eyes. Not the color or anything like that, but the flames blazing within them. It was a fire that burned as brilliantly as the brightest star, born out of determination and drive. And quickly, he had become addicted to your light. 

But now when he looked into your eyes, there was nothing. Just the cold emptiness of space.

However, he tried his best to push that thought aside as he stepped closer. “Hey, sweetheart. You feeling up to a visitor?”

You made no indication that you had heard him. You just continued to stare out the window with that same blank, emotionless gaze. It wasn’t an invitation in the slightest, but you also hadn’t told him to fuck off and leave you alone as Ed had expected, so he slowly stepped into the room.

As he came around the side of the bed and into your line of sight, your eyes shifted slightly to avoid looking at him yet you still didn’t turn your head or make any move to hide from him. Once again, a fairly promising sign.

Ed sat down on the far end of the bed, his hand resting just a or so inch from your blanket-covered legs. He smiled softly as he asked, “How are you? I-I wanted to come see you as soon as you got outta surgery but they said…they said it wasn’t a good time. But, uh, Molly says the doctors think you’ll be able to leave by the end of the week. That’ll be nice, huh? Getting to go home to your own bed?” 

You didn’t move or make any acknowledgment of his words so Ed changed the subject in the hopes of sparking some reaction. “And I know it won’t be the same, but I’ve already talked to Margo and she has a few positions in mind for you once you’re ready to come back to work. Obviously, you’ll need some time but just because you can’t go back to space doesn’t mean your career at NASA is over. You can work in Mission Control, or become one of the instructors, or Margo said you might even qualify for Chief of the Astronaut Office. I guess that would make you my boss, then.” Ed forced a chuckle as he tried to keep the mood upbeat. “It’ll be nice to work together again, even if in different positions. They know about us now—after what you said at Jamestown I couldn’t hide it—but I think it’s gonna be alright. A little slap on the wrist but nothing I can’t handle. So once you come home, we can start on those plans we had. Maybe find a new house or apartment. You know, a fresh start for both of us. I think that’d be good—”

“Please, Ed. Just go.”

Your whispered words washed over him like a freezing rain. “Sweetheart, I—”

“Please. Leave me alone. Go and don’t come back.” You squeezed your eyes together tightly as tears began slowly streaming down your face. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Ed felt his world shatter around him. He knew you would be upset that he had made the call to amputate your arm, that it would take time for things to go back to the way they were—if they ever did at all. He had even prepared for the possibility you wouldn’t want to see him right now. But he never imagined you would want to cut him out of your life completely. 

Sliding over so he was seated right next to your uninjured arm, he said, “Listen, I can’t even imagine how you are feeling right now but I’m here for you. I wanna help however I can and I know you’re gonna come back from this. Just don’t cut me out—”

“Ed, if you’re not out of this room in the next 60 seconds, I’m calling security.”

He blinked in utter shock as he finally realized how serious you were. But, surprisingly, what hurt even more than your threatening to have him forced from the room was the fact that your words and expression were still as lifeless and flat as ever. The you he knew—the you he loved—would have been screaming, snapping, hissing with anger as you threw him from your room. But now? It seemed as if your spirit had been left with your arm back on the moon.

“Okay. I’ll go.” Leaning over, he pressed his lips against your forehead and whispered, “But you know how to find me if you change your mind. Anytime day or night, I’ll be there. Just please…don’t give up on us.”

Ed straightened up, sniffing as he wiped the corner of his eye, and forced himself to walk towards the door. It was killing him to leave you alone like this, so broken and numb, but it didn’t seem as if you were giving him any choice. He just hoped, given time, you would relent and allow him back into your life. 

But just as his hand reached for the door handle, you softly whispered from the bed, “There is no us—not anymore. You made sure of that.”

Without turning around, Ed said in a firm, clear voice, “I don’t regret my decision, not as your commander or as the man who loves you. And if we really are done because of what I did, I still wouldn’t change a thing. At the end of the day...there never was a choice. Because I would rather live in a universe where you are alive to hate my guts than one where you loved me but I let you die. And nothing you say will ever make me feel differently.”

And with that, Commander Ed Baldwin walked out of your life—though he still held out the slightest of hope that the door had not locked behind him.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith,  @bewitchedignition, @tavners, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @shanimallina87, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @katjnordstrom96, @mayhem24-7forever, @green-socks, @princessmisery666, @deppresseddyslexic

[patternedlantern]

Keep You Safe - A Marcus Moreno Statesman!AU

Pairing: Statesman Agent Marcus Moreno x Statesman Agent Reader x Agent Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

What’s this? Pat’s writing fanfic now? Well… no, not exactly. 😅 Consider this a loose concept for a fic that I’d want to write if I had a knack for writing, inspired solely by Pedro’s Emmy’s look. As soon as I saw it, it reminded me of Marcus Moreno and the costumes from the Kingsman movies. My brain’s been unable to think about anything else for the last couple days so I'm hoping that setting some of my headcanons free will help free up some brain space haha

Not really any warnings, it’s all pretty brief anyway. Highlights include: pining/unspoken feelings, fake dating, a love triangle dynamic that evolves into polyamory. The Boys keep their canon backstories for the most part. Reader is gender neutral.

The set up:

After sustaining an injury during his last mission, Heroic-turned-Statesman agent Marcus Moreno finds himself on temporary desk duty. He’s promised his daughter that he’ll stay out of harm’s way until he fully recovers. Desperately needing to feel useful while stuck behind the scenes, he's excited to receive his next assignment - as your new handler.

You have been a Statesman field agent for a few years now and have gone through your fair share of handlers - this isn’t your first rodeo. Nonetheless you appreciate Marcus’s unique experience and perspective as a former superhero. He’s kind, patient, and respectful, and the two of you become close rather quickly (while still keeping things professional).

While you’re away on missions, Marcus spends most of his time with Ginger, monitoring mission statuses and tech needs. His powers and weapons knowledge make him a good fit for the tech specialist team. Marcus and Ginger get along so well that their coworkers begin to joke that Ginger is his work wife. And yeah, they’re good friends, but she’s seen how he gets when you’re gone, steadfastly studying the wall of screens. He only has eyes for you. 

Eventually, you get assigned to an undercover mission where you’ll be posing as one half of a romantic couple. Your lucky partner? One Jack “Whiskey” Daniels. You’ve worked with Jack a couple times before and while you find him to be a bit much sometimes, he’s charming and thoughtful under all the bluster.

Marcus, on the other hand, is apprehensive. He hasn’t met Jack yet but he’s heard the gossip around HQ about our flirty, larger-than-life cowboy. Ginger’s not-exactly-glowing comments about him certainly don’t help either, but she assures Marcus it’ll be fine.

Cue the mission with all its potential for tension and pining:

from Marcus having to watch the person he secretly has feelings for “fall in love” with someone else. Seeing the mission unfold and realizing that Jack’s not quite what his reputation suggests

to you actually slowly falling for Jack throughout the course of the mission (because it’s a fake dating story after all) but also having Marcus’s voice low and steady in your ear, always reminding you of his presence and the task at hand

to Jack knowing this is a fake arrangement (and that you and Marcus kinda sorta have a “thing” going) but wanting it to be real anyway, feeling his heart stirring for the first time in a very long time. 

And obviously there’d be all the classic tropes. Couple practice. First kisses. One bed. A fancy gala. You know.

Maybe at one point, Jack becomes briefly incapacitated and Marcus has to step in and take his place for a moment to keep up ✨the ruse✨ Because they do look awfully similar from afar and who’s gonna notice really...

Something something the bond between two men, who’ve both experienced the loss of their previous partners, unexpectedly finding new love. The both of them witnessing the lengths the other is willing to go to to protect that love.

And then eventually the three of them work it all out and get together and fuck nasty. the end :)

[onemeangreenbean]

Anything Ch 2

SUMMARY: On the precipice of death Wynter does the only thing she can think to do to save herself. Something that is forbidden in her practice….to summon a demon and make a deal. The demon that answers her call ask what Wynter is offering  and in her delirious state she answers with the only thing she can think of  “Anything”.

PAIRING: Demon!Yoongi x BlackWitch OC 

GENRE: Demon AU, Mystery, Strangers to Lovers, Soulmates, Smut, Fluff, Angst, slowburn

WARNINGS: violence, gore, murder (maybe), eventual smut, panic attacks, honestly my brain has stopped but promise each chapter with have individual warnings!

WORDCOUNT: 6,717

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Anything Masterlist | Masterlist

Yoongi kept Wynter cornered against the counter, not because he was still interested in intimidating her, but because he was finding it difficult to remove himself from her aura. “Um, if you don’t mind, Yoongi,” she spoke his name carefully, unsure if she was pronouncing it correctly. “ Can you please move? I need to get ready for work.”

He just hummed and reluctantly moved back. Wynter took the opportunity to move around him and into the small bathroom on the other side of the apartment. She took off her pajamas and put her big shower cap on, if she was being honest she had achieved the perfect messy bun, and for a Black girl that was a miracle that must be protected at all cost. It wasn’t a long shower just enough to wash the ache from almost dying from her bones and at least figure out what her next step was going to be. 

Wynter would obviously need to redo her protection wards, though with a demon living with her now she wondered if she would need to come up with new ones that allowed him to come and go as he pleased without having to bother her. Fuck! A demon was going to be living with her. In her small ass studio apartment. No more privacy. While she loved her small place, from the front door you could see the whole thing! 

Choosing to save that problem for future Wynter to solve, she quickly finished getting done in the bathroom only to realize halfway through her skincare routine she didn’t bring in any clothes. Used to just walking around her apartment naked she didn’t think to grab anything. God, this is embarrassing. Making sure her towel was around her extra tight she opened up the bathroom door letting out a puff of steam. Poking her head out took in her small space noting that Yoongi was nowhere to be found. 

Maybe he was just joking when he said he was staying with her? Maybe his version of staying was being some specter that only came when Wynter needed him? Either way she was free to get dressed in peace. She stood in front of her clothing rack after putting on her bra and panties debating if she should wear more layers than normal due to how heavy it was raining. 

“Do you always walk around without clothes on with strange men in your home” Yoongi’s voice resounded in the quiet apartment causing Wynter to jump. 

She tried to cover up as much of herself as possible by hiding behind the side of her bed. “I thought you were gone!” She hissed. 

“I was,” Yoongi suppressed the smirk that was playing on his lips. When he had left to canvas the neighborhood he didn’t expect to come back to Wynter’s nearly naked form, while he wasn’t complaining at all it was just surprising. He enjoyed the way her rich sepia skin looked soft to the touch. Her chest full and the way her hips flared out to her even fuller ass, the lilac lace stretched across it. . He adjusted himself as he sat on a small sofa. “I went to make sure the area was safe and to mark it as taken.” 

Wynter yanked open her chest of drawers that she used as a makeshift nightstand and pulled out the first t-shirt and jeans her hands found. “What are you a dog who needs to mark his territory?” She decided that in order to preserve her modesty she would just get dressed on the floor since there was no way she was giving Yoongi a free show. 

“It’s not as crude as you’re making it sound,” Yoongi scoffed, “It’s just a way for me to make sure there aren’t any threats and that anyone who comes within a one mile radius of this apartment better have a death wish.” Yoongi had found some low level demons hanging around but they weren’t even worth his energy to try and kill. He should probably set an example out of one just to be on the safe side but from what he could see Wynter’s wards had done a good job of keeping things out. 

Popping up fully dressed Wynter went and got her lunch together for work. “Seems like overkill to be frank. I’ve never had a problem before.” She had decided on something light since the June humidity was bound to drain her. A simple salad and some of her homemade sweet tea would have to do. 

“You’ve never had a demon at my level before in this area. I’m bound to attract attention. That's why I don’t come up in the first place.” Yoongi mumbled the last part. As good as he was at fighting – and in turn winning – he didn’t like to expend the energy if he could help it. Plus he was now in hiding and he needed to stay that way. 

While Wynter wanted to say something smart back she just quirked a brow. Yoongi seemed so full of himself but she did owe him her life – both literally and figuratively – either way she was now running behind. “Besides, someone went through a lot of trouble to try and kill you and it’s worth taking the extra precautions–” Yoongi noticed that Wynter was putting on her orange raincoat and her matching rainboots about to leave. “Where are you going? I wasn’t done speaking.”

“To work.” Grabbing her umbrella Wynter got the door slightly opened before it slammed shut. Trying again this time it only opened a crack before slamming shut. “Is there a reason you’re not letting me leave?” Wynter peered over her shoulder at Yoongi who was still sitting on the couch looking smug that his little containment spell around the apartment was working as planned. 

“I wasn’t done speaking.”

“Well, that sucks for you but I need to get to work.” Focusing her energy she found a slight opening in Yoongi’s spell and created a hole big enough for her to open the door and slip out of the apartment. Something that Wynter found surprising considering the “level” that Yoongi claimed he was at, either he must be out of practice or she was just better than he thought. Wynter felt a small sense of pride as she watched the condescending smirk drop from his face as she waved goodbye and started off down the hall. 

The small bookshop she worked at was only a 15 minute walk from her apartment, something she usually enjoyed but didn’t realize that monsoon season was going to make a nightmare. While her bubble umbrella protected her for the most part she knew that by the time she made it to the storefront that her pants were going to be absolutely soaked. “What part of I was still speaking to you did you not understand?” Wynter plowed right into Yoongi’s chest as he appeared in front of her. 

He reached out to steady her, sparing a fleeting touch on her arms, taking his hands back as quickly as possible. Yoongi wasn’t used to people just walking away from him – ever. The rain seemed to be getting heavier and Wynter seemed to be getting more irritated that he was in her path. “What part of I’m late to work did you not understand?” Moving around him gracefully, Wynter continued on her way, forcing Yoongi to follow her. 

“I’ll come with then.”

“Don’t you have better things to do like marking more of your territory?” Wynter couldn’t even bother to hide her eyeroll. “Besides you really shouldn’t come to work with me.” While the bookshop she worked at was pretty normal selling the usual suspects, they also specialized in rare occult writings. She had gotten lucky when she found out that they were hiring, well less hiring more so that she frequented the store so often in search of information that the owner offered her a job. 

Yoongi kept up with Wynter’s pace easily, she was considerably shorter than him – two of her strides equated to one of his. They weaved in and out of the other early morning commuters as they continued their conversation. “And why is that?” 

“Mostly cause I’m sure my boss won’t appreciate a demon in his store. It would be bad for business,” Wynter hummed. Knowing her boss, he already knew that Yoongi was nearby. “Besides I don’t need an escort to live my damn life.” Stopping to turn and look at Yoongi, Wynter stopped short at the fact that he was completely bone dry. “Why aren’t you wet?”

“What?” Furrowing his brows Yoongi tried to keep up with the abrupt change in topics. “A personal ward. What do you mean your boss wouldn’t want a demon at his shop?”

Wynter hummed in appreciation, she had never thought to use wards on her person. “I mean just that! What warlock do you know wants demons around their business? Also, will you teach me how to do that?”

“ No. You work for a warlock? Are you sure he isn’t the one that tried to kill you? Also if he isn’t wouldn’t he understand you taking some time off?”

Scoffing Wynter turned around, “For your information, he wouldn’t pull anything like that death curse. Also yes, I work for a warlock, a shaman to be more exact. And I only get paid if I actually show up and it’s just the two of us and I won’t leave him without his only employee because I almost died.”

Grabbing Wynter’s arm and yanking her around to face him, Yoongi's eyes darkened. “That’s the point you almost died. You should be dead. While I appreciate your loyalty, the only person you can trust right now is me, no matter how much you don’t seem to like that fact. You summoned me to save you and that’s what I’m doing.” 

“No. What you’re doing is protecting your investment.” Wynter matched his piercing gaze. The sound of the rain hitting her umbrella was the only noise between them. His silence response enough. “That’s what I thought. If you’re so worried about it then canvas the fucking area.” Ripping her arm out of his grasp, she stomped off. Who in the hell did he think he was to dictate if she went to work or not? To manhandle her in public? He must have lost his damn mind! Wynter wasn’t stupid, she understood the gravity of the situation and was determined to correct the situation. She fully expected Yoongi to yell after her again, but when he didn’t she figured he got the hint a left. 

Mikrokosmos was still dark when Wynter walked up to the front door. Taking out her shop key she tried to push open the door but stopped short. Sighing deeply she braced herself before she rammed into the door with all her weight. Tripping over her own feet as she stumbled into the store. “Fuck!” Wynter rubbed her shoulder as she kicked the door back shut, locking it. 

Placing her umbrella in the corner and turning on the lights, Wynter went through with getting the store ready for opening. She counted the drawer, made sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and beefed up the wards protecting the shop. While she had told Yoongi to stay away she wasn’t all that sure he would, which if she was being honest with herself made her feel conflicted. On one hand she was still reeling and coming to terms that she was basically owned by this demon; and on the other she thought it was kind of cute that he seemed so worried. 

A loud smack filled the small space as Wynter tried to slap that stupid ass thought from her clearly lonely brain. “Is there a reason you’re slapping yourself this early in the morning?” Wynter turned quickly, knocking a book off the counter. 

“Namjoon!” Her boss peeked his head out of his back work room, the soft glow of his lamp making his silver hair look like a small cloud. He adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses as he stood waiting for her answer. “Just trying to wake up. Had a really rough night,” Wynter tried to keep her voice as even as possible. While she was fully intent on asking Namjoon to help her with the whole death curse, demon deal situation she wanted to have a few hours where her life felt semi-together. Plus she knew that if she told Namjoon now that he would shut the store down until he could fix it. 

“Is everything okay?” Namjoon brows furrowed in concern as he rounded the counter to come closer to Wynter. “You know you can tell me anything and I’ll do anything in my power to help.” 

“I know, Joonie.” She could see the sincerity in his eyes and she could also sense something a little deeper, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. “I promise that if it gets out of my control I will come to you for help.” Wynter put on a fake smile hoping Namjoon was buying the shit she was spewing. She was totally and completely out of her depth and in need of help, but telling him about Yoongi seemed like a bad idea. “Though I will say that we should keep an eye on Jiyeon.”

Wynter watched several emotions flit through Namjoons expression from confusion to worry to curiosity before it settled on a neutral expression. “Why? She’s one of our best customers, besides I thought you two were becoming friends.” Checking his watch he began to turn on the lights in the shop. Following his lead Wynter walked over to the other side and began opening the blinds.

“We were,” she hesitated as she tried to find the right wording. “But she seemed to have other ideas. Either way I am asking you as your friend and your only employee and helper that we just watch her. I have a feeling.” Clasping her hands together she gave him her best puppy dog eyes. 

“Okay?” He drew out the syllables slightly confused. “Though I have to ask does whatever happened between you two have to do with you making all these wards extra strong?” Wynter watched him tap the glass and pull his hand back with a small “ow” when he got shocked. “I don’t even think I could get through them and I own the shop.” Namjoon let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Um, I just had a weird dream and just wanted to be safe.” Wynter stated as innocently as possible and slid her work apron over her head, making sure to avoid her puff. 

Her mentioning a dream seemed to grab Namjoon’s full attention as he turned towards her, “What was your dre–” 

“Oh, would you look at that our first patron of the day!” She had never been more excited to hear that damn bell above the door ring. 

The day had seemed to move by at a steady pace. Even though it was a rainy and gloomy day the bookshop stayed consistent for the most part; with customers either coming in to look at books or seeking Namjoon for this or that. Wynter was actually surprised they were so busy, and that Namjoon in particular was busy cause it meant she could do some research without his questions. 

    She scoured the books about death curses and ones that matched her symptoms in between customers but couldn’t find anything. All the passages Wynter read about death curses were surface level and would barely kill a fly if done correctly. Magic for dummies as she liked to call it; a little something to make non witches feel like they’re powerful. Wynter knew what she needed; the books in the back but in order to get to those she needed to get through Namjoon. 

While Wynter was great and avoiding topics of conversation she didn’t think she’d get very far before Namjoon figured out what was wrong. She knew he would help her without question, but she just felt that she really needed to at least figure out the first part herself. Which was what type of death curse and who placed it. One lead to the other and she was here in Seoul to become a better, a stronger witch. She could at least do this one fucking thing. Wynter decided that she was gonna give it a few days and if she made no headway then she would ask Namjoon, 

Yoongi had been watching Wynter from a cafe across the street from the bookshop. Through the large windows he could see her as she maneuvered through the shop with practiced ease, helping costumers, rearranging books, cleaning. Couldn’t help but notice her bright smile that graced her face when she was helping someone. Yoongi watched as she climbed one of the many bookshelf ladders to clean and rearrange the very top shelf, still out of reach from her petite stature. He watched the way she tried to extend her reach standing on her toes, the way her jeans stretched out over the curves of her ass, and how her shirt rode up a bit showing the slightest sliver of brown skin at her waist. 

 The sound of steam being let out in the cafe was jarring enough to break Yoongi of his gawking. Clearing his throat he scanned the street to make sure everything was still going okay. There wasn’t really anything for him to check if he was being honest, between Wynter’s protection wards, which made it damn near impossible for him to even get within a five mile radius of the shop, and his own boundary wards nothing was getting in or out. 

Yoongi would say that he was bored but watching Wynter wasn’t boring, and this fact irked him. Here he was a powerful upper demon, known for his ruthless lack of mercy on anyone who dare summon him, playing bodyguard to an unknown foreigner, no matter how pretty she happens to be. Though playing bodyguard to a pretty woman was much better than trying to sort out whatever mess he had gotten himself, and in turn Hoseok, into. 

He did feel bad for just up and disappearing but he knew the Hoseok would find him eventually. When Yoongi had left him he had been trying to convince Yoongi that he should take up the mantel of leader of the unintentional rebellion he had started. Though how him just ignoring Jungsoo’s orders and abandoning his post lead to hundreds of other demons doing the same still baffled him; but Hobi was convinced that it was the beginning of the end of Jungsoo reign.

            Running his hand over his face, Yoongi took a sip of his iced americano and turned his attention back to his pretty charge. He hadn’t seen the shaman that owned the bookstore, but Wynter’s unwavering defense of the man set Yoongi on edge. He was unsure if he could trust the shaman with Wynter’s care until he could get a read on him, himself.  Yoongi sat there ready to escort Wynter home after her shift. Watching her close the shop down and wave towards the back curtain to who he assumes is the shaman.

            Yoongi locked eyes with Wynter when she walked out of the door. She wanted to ignore him and walked pass like he didn’t exist, but he caught up to her pretty quickly. “Have you been staring at me all day?” The thought of him just creepily staring at her through the shop sent a shiver up her spine. Was this what her life was going to be like until he inevitably whisked her away into some unknown plane of existence. He simply grunted in the affirmative and continued to walk with her silently.

            Wynter was happy it stopped raining, opting to walk to the small hole in the wall restaurant that was next to her apartment. She was slightly surprised by how hungry she was, but almost dying may do that to a person. All she knew was that there was a bowl of ramen waiting for her, maybe even two. “Where are we going?” Yoongi’s deep voice pulled Wynter from her thoughts of food and back to the fact that she had this pale ass demon following her around.

            “To get dinner,” Wynter said playfully. She snuck a glance at him, “Don’t you eat?”   

            “Only the souls of unsuspecting innocents,” he deadpanned. Wynter stopped walking and stared at him. Yoongi stared back, face unwavering before he lips pulled up into a smirk and he continued walking.

            “Was that sarcasm?” Wynter jogged slightly to catch up to him.

Kwon’s was a small and cozy ramen shop that reminded Wynter of the one she used to go to back home that was owned by the only Korean folks in her small town. The tiny bell dinged as Wynter and Yoongi entered. “Hello- oh hello Wynter!” Mrs. Kwon greeted as she continued to roll gimbap. Taking her normal seat in the booth in the corner, Wynter dropped her raincoat and bag next to her. Yoongi set across from her and grabbed a menu.

 “Did you want your normal, dear?” Mrs. Kwon walked over patting her pocket looking for her notepad. “Oh, also my son is in town and as I was saying the other day I think you two would-“  Mrs. Kwon stopped short as she took in the fact that Wynter wasn’t sitting alone like normal, but that a handsome young man was across from her. She stared owlishly at Yoongi. “I’m sorry young man I didn’t even notice you, what can I get for you?”

Wynter glanced at Yoongi over the top of her menu to see him staring over at her like a little lost demon puppy. His tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously as he tried to construct a sentence in his head. He wasn’t one to be left speechless often but between the old lady who was obviously staring holes into the side of his head and Wynter who looked like she was taking great pleasure in watching him suffer, his mind blanked. 

“He’ll take my usual. Mrs. Kwon this is my new roommate, Yoongi.” Wynter decided to be nice and save him. “I’m just showing him the best places to eat.” She could see Yoongi visible relax after her brief introduction. 

“You flatter me too much Wynter,” Mrs. Kwon waved her hand in the air and ran off to the kitchen to prepare the food. They sat in silence for a bit. It wasn’t awkward or unpleasant, just silent. Yoongi seemed to be looking at anything but her and Wynter seemed to be more interested in the chopsticks in front of her. Neither really knowing what to say to the other. 

“So,” Wynter started, figuring that Yoongi wasn’t. “ How long have you’ve been a demon for?” The look that Yoongi gave her was a cross between incredulous and amused. 

“That’s your first question?” When Wynter just kept staring at him expectantly he rolled his eyes and answered, “I don’t know I guess it’s been almost 300 years.”

“Damn!” Wynter cringed at her initial response. If Yoongi was offended his face gave nothing away. “My bad.” Mrs. Kwon came back with their food giving Wynter a moment to figure out how she was gonna revive the conversation. She had questions and if Yoongi was gonna be with her for the foreseeable future it would probably be best to have a little information on him. “Um, you don’t look a day over 30 so that good.” Trailing off she stuffed her mouth with ramen before she could say anything further to embarrass herself. 

“Hmm. Dying does that I guess.” Wynter didn’t really know how to respond to his answer so she didn’t figuring he didn’t want to talk about it. She guessed if she died and became a demon she wouldn’t want to talk about it either. But really how does one even become a demon. Like do you  just die or do you like make a deal. Yoongi watched Wynter as she ate. Her thoughts going a mile a minute in the foreign language. He knew that it was gonna irk him that he couldn’t understand her thoughts. Guess he was just gonna have to learn a new language. 

“Why are you here in Korea?” His baritone voice jolted Wynter out of her thought spiral. “Not to be rude or anything but clearly you don’t belong in this country.”

What the actual fuck? Who just says that to people? Wynter’s face pulled itself into a deep scowl cause how dare he says she doesn’t belong. “Well excuse me for wanting to see the world. I know you’re ancient and all but this country is slightly more diverse this millennium.” Yoongi scoffed as he continued to eat. “If you must know I’m here as part of my final test.”

Wynter watched Yoongi quirk an eyebrow waiting for her to elaborate. Heaving a sigh Wynter elaborated, “So I don’t know how they do stuff here, but where I’m from when a rootworker starts coming into themselves they have to leave home to establish themself in a community. It’s essentially kicking them out the proverbial nest and forcing them to learn how to fly on their own.” She slurped the rest of her ramen up as she thought about home and how much she missed it. 

“Do most rootworkers choose to go this far? Also what is a rootworker even?” Yoongi had been around for longer than he cared to admit and he had never heard that word before. He was used to dealing with your run of the mill witches, warlocks, shamans, which is the category most magic users fell into in Korea, with some outliers.

Wynter laughed softly as she tried to think of the most comparable thing. “It’s kind of like,” she placed her chopsticks against her lips as she thought. Yoongi tried, and failed not to stare at them. “It’s kind of like a shaman here I guess. We mostly work with herbs and different types of plant roots. Thus the term rootworker, but we also work in the spirit realm to dig up the root of different problems or ailments. My family specializes in exorcisms and cleansings.”

Interesting enough that made perfect sense to Yoongi. Her protection wards were some of the strongest he had seen in a while. Anyone can make ward to stop demons or ghost from getting in, you only get as good as Wynter was if you’re trying to keep something from getting out. “As far as how far we venture out, most folks just go to the next town over, sometimes the next state, but I’m ambitious.” Wynter leaned back as she drunk some of the soju. The sweet tasting alcohol making her feel a bit more at ease in Yoongi’s intimidating presence. “I understand that there is more magical knowledge in the world than I can even begin to fathom and I want to learn as much of it as I can.”

Wynter smiled to herself, remembering how both her mom and nana tried to talk her out of leaving. They both thought that it was too far away after what had happened. That she needed to be close to home, to family, to the ancestors. Clearly she didn’t agree since she was halfway around the world. 

“What happens if you fail?” Yoongi ventured to ask. Wynter tensed up a bit at his question. Her mind going suspiciously quiet at the inquiry. It only ever happened when someone was actively trying not to think of something. Yoongi filed away asking what she was hiding for later. He was going to be spending a lot of time with her for the foreseeable future. He didn’t need to know all of her secrets yet. 

“Um, you go back home until you’re ready to try again. Home is always welcoming. Always there. It’s not meant to punish failure. It’s meant to help the practitioner grow.” Wynter paused trying to not remember her failure. “This is my second attempt.” She downed another shot of her soju before changing the subject. “I feel like I’ve just been talking about myself. What about you?”

“What about me?” Yoongi gave her the out. He would have plenty of time to pry whatever secrets she was hiding out of her. 

“You know? Any cool powers or like background? I didn’t really get to research you, for obvious reasons.” She laughed out. Yoongi hated how nice her laugh sounded. It was deep and rich and it made you want to keep hearing it. 

“Pyromancy and telekinesis, plus some other ones I’ve collected over the years,” he shrugged as he finished eating his food. 

“I’m sorry you can read minds,” Yoongi looked up to see Wynter staring at him in awe. Her brown eyes big and wide with interest. “Ooo! What am I thinking about?” All Yoongi heard was a bunch of gibberish and saw some random scenes. 

“I don’t know? I don’t speak your language.” 

“Well that makes sense.” Wynter mumbled. “Oh! What about this?” Yoongi watched Wynter pick up a glass of ice water and throw it on him. The water running down his face and onto the table. It wasn’t until he seen himself as a wet grumpy cat did he realize what she had done. It was rare for someone to be able to place such a vivid thought in his mind. 

Closing his eyes, Yoongi took a deep breathe. “First off, don’t do that again,” Wynter shivered at the slight chill of energy coming off of Yoongi. “Second off, I am not a cat.” There was a slight blush on his face as he said the last part. It was cute but Wynter choose to ignore the urge to coo at him. Feeling as though he wouldn’t be really receptive of it. 

“Duly noted. I’ll only use it in cases of emergencies. Like if I get kidnapped or fall down a well or something and you need to find me.” She nodded her head before making eye contact with Mrs. Kwon to grab the check. Wynter paid as she figured that Yoongi would have no money. Mrs. Kwon reminded Wynter that her son would be helping her out for the next few days and that she would love to introduce them. Wynter told her that she would swing by if she could but she made no promises. 

Luckily they made it home before the rain picked back up for the night. The sound of the raindrops bouncing off the windows made for wonderful white noise. “Make yourself at home I guess,” Wynter waved around to her small studio as she made her way to the bathroom yawning. She was absolutely exhausted. Her body feeling as though it was dragging through mud as she went through her night routine. She put her hair in a pineapple, hoping that the curls wouldn’t become too frizzy during the night. 

“Yoongi,” Wynter called out as she rummaged underneath her cabinet. She was sure she had an extra toothbrush and stuff under there. While she didn’t have people over often, she was always taught to be prepared cause you never knew who was gonna drop by. 

“Yeah.” Yoongi stifled a laugh as Wynter hit her head on the cabinet. He hadn’t meant to startle her but her sitting on the floor rubbing the back of her head was kind of amusing. 

“I’m gonna have to get you a fucking bell,”she mumbled as she stood up. Wynter adjusted her sleep shorts as she turned to hand Yoongi the small toiletries bag she had made. “Here, I’m unsure of what all you need to do to take care of yourself as a demon but I figured you probably didn’t have anything so,” Wynter cut herself off after  feeling herself start to ramble. 

Yoongi looked down at the little bag in his hands. It was a deep green and had little cartoon cats sleeping on it. He didn’t really need to do anything if he didn’t want to. His demonic energy purifying him on a loop. It was a neat trick to stay clean when showers where few and far between that Yoongi had just always kept up cause he was in heart of hearts lazy. “Thanks. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” She simply smiled and nodded as she left the small bathroom. 

Something about Wynter taking the time to make him feel comfortable made him want to put in some effort. He waited until the water became warm in the shower before he hopped in. It had been a long time since he had gotten to take one, something the aches in his body reminded him of. The way that Jungsoo had him running around Yoongi barely had anytime to relax. He tried not to think of the massive amount of shit he was in for accidentally starting a rebellion. He was just so tired of being a puppet. He honestly didn’t expect people to follow him out though.

In truth he was glad for the reprieve that Wynter calling him brought. He could hide out here until the fanfare died down or Jungsoo forgot about him. Though he doubted the last one would happen. Skipping out on a demonic contract was a big no-no. Wynter’s wards were strong enough to hide his presence for the time being. Finishing up he conjured up a pair of soft gray pajama pants and a matching cotton t-shirt. Yoongi walked out to Wynter putting some blankets and pillows on her couch. 

She was bent over the couch fluffing the pillows to make sure that they were nice and comfy for him. Her ass on full display in her tiny pink sleep shorts. Wynter looked over her shoulder to find that Yoongi had left the bathroom. “So you can make clothes?” She noted that he was currently in some, what looked like comfy, pjs. Wynter walked over to him with her hand on her hip. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi cleared his throat. “Cloths are easy to make.” 

Wynter hmm in response. “Well I tried to make the couch as comfy as I could for you, but I’m not sure how good I did.” They both looked at the couch recognizing that the dingy couch she salvaged off the street was way to small to hold Yoongi comfortably. Normally she would just offer her bed but if he wanted to butt his way into her life he got to deal with the uncomfy consequences. Patting him on the shoulder she made her way to her bed, turning off the bedside lamp,  and climbing under peach comforter. 

Yoongi stared down at where her hand had touched him. Unuse to anyone touching him so causally he tried not to let the warmth that she had linger on him for too long, shaking the odd feeling off. Making his way over to the couch he laid down. The springs groaning at his weight as he sunk further down into the cushions. The blankets were soft and warm and he pulled them up, tucking them underneath his chin. Yoongi couldn’t fathom why he didn’t do this more often. Demons didn’t need sleep and he knows he hasn’t slept in over a century; his mind to preoccupied with thoughts of past mistakes.  He doubted that he would sleep at all tonight but it at least felt nice to rest. 

“Did you find anything out today about who may have cursed you?” They had been sitting there for over an hour in the dark. The only sounds the monsoon raging outside the apartment windows. Yoongi could tell Wynter hadn’t fallen asleep, the smell of her fear filling the apartment like a gas leak. He decided that he didn’t care for the scent of dead roses, it made his nose itch. 

Wynter continued to stare at the ceiling as she tried to calm herself. She could feel a panic attack forming deep in her chest. The feeling of the walls closing in around her as she kept telling herself that she was safe and that everything was okay. She faintly heard Yoongi’s questions. Struggling to take in enough air speak. His face appeared over hers as she tried to get enough breath. Yoongi’s eyes full of indifference as he spoke. “You’re fine. Try to match my breathing.” They took deep breathes for a bit as Yoongi rubbed her arms knowing that she needed something to ground her. His hands messaging her upper arms trying to get her body to relax. 

It took awhile but Wynter finally felt herself come back into her body. Yoongi helping her to slowly sit up in the bed. He let go of her as soon as she was stable enough. Wynter felt herself heating up in embarrassment, cause she hasn’t had a panic attack like that in years. With shaking hands she reached up to wipe the tears that had escaped. “Thanks,” she whispered into the darkness of the apartment, unable to look Yoongi in the eye. 

“It’s normal after a death curse,” Yoongi was just as quiet as Wynter. “They have long term effects on the victims if they don’t work.” Once completed the curse needed to complete it’s mission. If averted it’ll keeping trying to kill the victim but most times it just turns back onto the one who placed the curse. If it was effecting Wynter this much it just meant that whoever placed the death curse knew what they were doing.

A laugh of disbelief escaped Wynter’s plush lips as tried to wrap her head around the fact that she was gonna have to deal with  long term effects of this bullshit. Just another layer of shit on this already shitty situation. “Do you have any idea who would do this to you?” Yoongi’s question gently pulled Wynter back to the present.

Sniffling Wynter cleared her throat, “Um - the only person I can think of would be Jiyeon. She’s one of the regulars at the bookstore.” Wynter’s face scrunched as she tried to think of a reason the woman would want to hurt her. “I thought we were becoming friends,” She whispered to herself. “I don’t know what her motive would be. I don’t even have any hard evidence to prove that it was her only this sinking feeling.” Wynter placed her hand on her stomach where a weight had settled, pinning her to the truth of her words. 

“That’s good. You should trust you instincts.” Yoongi assured her. While unusual for someone to place a death curse on someone unwarranted, it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. He would have to some digging into this Jiyeon’s past and see if she was hiding something. In order to dispel the curse someone had to die so they had to be sure that this was the right person. 

“Keep looking into the curse. Find any and everything you can about death curses. Go on as normal, cause if it is her we don’t want to give away that we’re on to her.” Yoongi knew a lot of things but this particular death curse was one he hadn’t seen before and he had honestly just gotten lucky he could avert it. If a lesser demon had come Wynter would be dead and that made Yoongi feel an emotion that he promptly buried deep. “Look we can strategize tomorrow. Get some rest.” 

Yoongi watched Wynter as she nodded numbly with a far away look in her eyes. He placed his hand lightly on her forehead forcing her to sleep cause he knew she wasn’t going to. Tucking her back into bed he took her in -  glad he could get the crease that worried the space between her brows to smooth out. The gentle way her nose sloped before it flared out. How soft her lips looked.  She looked peaceful in that moment, her bold features relaxed. He felt a pull in his chest. It was light but it was there, Yoongi rubbed his hand over his heart that had long since stopped beating confused.

[snailsagere]

Please read my dni in my bio before interacting

I made another sims 4 legacy challenge, this is different from my usual content so feel free to ignore if this isn't your kind of thing! :3

Anyway welcome to the Halloween legacy challenge! In this challenge you will play through different typical halloween 'monsters' and complete the requirements for each generation!

-Making your sims the different occults is optional, if you'd like you can loosely make a sim based off the occult but not actually make them that specific occult type!

-you can choose which requirements you'll do since I did include some alternatives if you're missing any packs however

-try to complete at least 6 requirements per generation (unless I didn't include enough alternatives and you don't own a pack)

The packs commonly used in the challenge are-

Vampires, island living, werewolves, cottage living, cats and dogs, realm of magic, paranormal and get to work

I used other packs too but these are the ones I'd recommend if you want to get the best experience of this challenge!

👻Ghost👻

You don't remember much about your past but now you're a ghost with a love for haunting music... wait can I smell burning?

Traits-

Loner

Music lover

Gloomy or paranoid (strangerville)

Aspiration-

Musical genius

Career-

Entertainer musician branch

Requirements-

👻become a ghost

👻reach level 10 of any music skill

👻live in a haunted house (paranormal stuff)

👻if you don't have paranormal, live with three ghosts which you cannot control

👻finish the crystals collection

👻your partner must die

👻don't have a good relationship with your kids, you're not around much anymore

👻get the needs no one reward trait

🧟Zombie🧟

...

Traits-

Clumsy

Loner or socially awkward (high school years)

Foodie

Aspiration-

Master chef

Career-

Culinary chef branch

Requirements-

🧟never do well in school and drop out as soon a possible

🧟reach level 10 cooking and gourmet cooking skill

🧟complete experimental food photos collection (dine out)

🧟if you don't have dine out, cook one of each meal throughout your life

🧟only introduce yourselves to others with the rude introduction

🧟go running atleast once a week

🧟never increase your logic and handiness skills past 1

🎈Clown🎈

You followed the same path as your parents you dropped out of school and discovered that you have a passion for making others laugh! No stop crying! I'm funny!

Traits-

Erratic

Goofball

Childish

Aspiration-

Joke star

Career-

Entertainer comedian branch

Requirements-

🎈drop out of school as soon as possible

🎈reach level 10 comedy skill

🎈have a job as a teen

🎈move to a different world once per in game week

🎈befriend the tragic clown

🎈always live in small houses never bigger than one bedroom or always live in tiny houses

🐺Werewolf🐺

You ran away from home to start a new life for yourself, you took whatever money you could and decided to live off the land in moonwood mill

Traits-

Hot-headed

Childish or dog lover (cats and dogs)

Loves outdoors

Aspiration-

Freelance botanist or Friend of the animals (cats and dogs) or Werewolf initiate (werewolves)

Career-

None, you must make money by selling plants from your garden

Requirements-

🐺become a werewolf

🐺'run away' from home as a teenager

🐺have triplets (you can cheat for this)

🐺own atleast one pet dog (cats and dogs)

🐺home school you kids (make your sims kids take 2 days off school per week)

🐺reach level 10 gardening

🐺use the simple living lot trait (cottage living)

🐺if you don't have cottage living use the off-the-grid lot trait

👽Alien👽

You're new to this planet and you want to learn all about it and perhaps explore the rest of space too

Traits-

Genius

Perfectionist

Loner or paranoid (strangerville)

Aspiration-

Nerd brain

Career-

Astronaut or Scientist (get to work)

Requirements-

👽become an alien

👽build a space ship

👽go to sixam (get to work)

👽if you don't have get to work, once you build the spaceship go to space once per week

👽go to university and join a club (discover university)

👽if you don't have discover university join a club (get together)

👽complete the aliens collection

👽go on holiday at least twice

👽reach level 10 in the handiness and rocket science skills

🧹Witch🧹

You've gained lots of knowledge over the years from your parents and now wish to fully use it with you trusty feline companion

Traits-

Genius

Bookworm

Perfectionist or cat lover (cats and dogs)

Aspiration-

The curator or Purveyor of potions (realm of magic)

Career-

Business

Requirements-

🧹become a spellcaster

🧹learn and craft all potion recipes (realm of magic)

🧹if you don't have realm of magic, buy all reward trait potions that cost under 500 points

🧹complete frog collection

🧹own atleast one cat (cats and dogs)

🧹reach level 10 charisma

🧹own and use a voodoo doll atleast five times

🧹own a herb garden

🧚Fairy🧚

You love nature and feel connected to plants and animals and wish to live within nature

Traits-

Goofball

Loves outdoors

Vegetarian

Aspiration-

Freelance botanist or Spellcraft and sorcerery (realm of magic)

Career-

Gardener

Requirements-

🧚become a spellcaster

🧚own a large garden

🧚use the simple living lot trait (cottage living)

🧚use the off the grid lot trait

🧚reach level 10 gardening and herbalism

🧚enter the finchwick fair once a week (cottage living)

🧚own atleast one animal

🌊Mermaid🌊

You love nature, the ocean and mischief, you wish to allure other sims to danger while living a peaceful life in the water

Traits-

Music lover

Romantic

Loves outdoors or Child of the ocean (island living)

Aspiration-

Chief of mischief or Beach life (island living)

Career-

Gardener or Teacher (discover university) or Conservationist (island living)

Requirements-

🌊be a mermaid

🌊move somewhere close to water or sulani

🌊only take baths

🌊reach level 10 singing and mischief skill

🌊complete the seashell collection (island living)

🌊befriend a dolphin (island living)

🌊if you don't have island living own five pet fish instead

🌊kill atleast one sim (your choice how)

🦴Skeleton🦴

You're a bit bonely but you want to meet more sims just like you and try to learn new things

Traits-

Gloomy or Squeamish (outdoor retreat)

Lazy

Loner or Socially awkward (high school years)

Aspiration-

Big happy family or Lord/lady of the knits (nifty knitting) or Jungle explorer (jungle adventure)

Career-

Freelance any or Critic (city living)

Requirements-

🦴go on atleast two holidays to selvadorada (jungle adventure)

🦴befriend a skeleton (jungle adventure or paranormal)

🦴own a cow plant, if it dies you must keep the skeleton and get a new one

🦴own a skeleton fish

🦴complete sugar skull collection

🦴unlock the forever full reward trait

🦇Vampire🦇

You are immortal and you want to be the most successful out the whole rest of your family, afterall you do have forever to do so

Traits-

Ambitious

Snob or Proper (snowy escape)

Materialistic or self absorbed (get famous)

Aspiration-

Mansion baron or Master vampire (vampires)

Career-

Secret agent or Law (discover university)

Requirements-

🦇become a vampire

🦇own a plasma fruit orchard (vampires)

🦇if you don't own vampires own and fruit orchard worth around 10,000 simolions (decorations in the orchard do contribute to the 10,000 simolions)

🦇live in a mansion

🦇reach level 10 in piano or pipe organ skill

🦇have at least 100,000 simolions

🦇have at least one enemy

🦇master the vampire lore skill and complete the vampire skill tree (vampires)

🦇if you don't own vampires unlock the never weary and forever full reward traits