#so i guess it is writing by hand but it’s just. DIFFERENT when you can feel the paper scratching and the ink flowing yknow

[cybrasigilism]

Hi! I really loved all your works, especially This Means War. I wanted to ask if you can write the second part cause it’s sooo interesting

All Is Fair (This Means War Pt ll)

warning: typical squid game stuff (guns mention, blood and death), love triangle (?), reader replaces gyeong-su (player 256) | ooc(?), these are my interpretations of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions differ from your own

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

[minor characters mentioned: players 456, 001, 390, 222, 124, 380 (seong gi-hun, young-il/hwang in-ho, park jung-bae, kim jun-hee, nam-gyu, se-mi]

-

A/N: you guys have asked and i shall deliver! i did my nails before writing this and lemme tell you typing an entire fic on my phone with acrylics was not easy work! i hope you guys enjoy :3

ENJOY!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

your head was completely reeling.

you were thrown into these games completely blind. sure you were desperate and strapped for cash, but as soon as you bore witness to countless people lose their lives over a game of Red Light Green Light, you decided that no amount of money was worth such a heartless and gruesome death.

so you were counting your blessings when the time to vote rolled around, absolutely you were going to vote “X” and get the everloving fuck out of there, as you were sure everyone else would make the same choice. i mean, who in their right mind would want to stay in such a place? you figured that even if people were desperate, the stakes were just too high for anyone to handle. although your brief conversation with your new friend player 388, AKA dae-ho, seemed to lift your mood just a bit, you wanted to get the hell out of that place. you found yourself approaching him when the players gathered up to await their chance to cast their vote, you figured it couldn’t hurt to stay close to a friend, especially now.

“at least we still get our share of the prize money if we do end up leaving.” you commented, as the players before you began to disperse into the X and O sides of the room. “yeah, i guess..” dae-ho seemed distant, you noticed that he was analyzing that golden, luminous piggy bank that loomed over everyone as some sick motivator. “but even that much won’t be enough for some people’s debts.” you chuckled at the last bit of his statement, covering your mouth with your hand as you did so. “what’s the joke?” he asked, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “i mean, if you’re debt is that big, then there’s bigger problems for sure.” you giggled, met with silence from 388. you looked up at him to be met with an expression that caused a lump in your throat; realizing what you had just said. “oh my god wait, i didn’t mean-“ “it’s fine.” he interrupted, attempting to hide the shame in his voice. coincidentally, that just so happened to be the exact moment that dae-ho’s number was called, and he walked up without a word. you felt your cheeks grow warmer, but this time it wasn’t from any good feeling— you were completely embarrassed at how ignorant you had just been with your friend, and unfortunately for you, someone else had seen this whole uncomfortable interaction take place.

thanos approached you with swift succession once dae-ho had cast his vote, which you watched as your heart sank; seeing the number increase by one underneath the “O” on the scoreboard. the purple-haired rapper had been standing behind you for a prolonged period of time before he made himself known with a

tap tap tap

on your shoulder, you whipped around and felt your expression harden when you realized the culprit. “seems like homeboy is too sensitive, that’s unfortunate.” he joked, crossing his arms as he referenced dae-ho’s general direction quickly with his gaze. you rolled your eyes and scoffed. “you don’t have a clue what’s going on, it’s none of your business.” you didn’t want to give the obnoxious has-been any more attention than he was already getting, as you were given full demonstration of before. you turned away, restoring your view to the front which virtually did nothing to deter thanos, as he followed suit and adjusted his own positioning accordingly. “whatever happened, it definitely wasn’t your fault-“ you couldn’t believe how persistent this guy was, it pissed you off to the nth degree. “why do you care? it has nothing to do with you.. i don’t know why you bother inserting yourself.” you refused to even look at him, you didn’t know how or why but he was truly pissing you off at the very moment.

“shit, y’ don’t need to be on the offensive señorita.” thanos crossed his arms, eyeing every single player who voted X. you shot him a glare, where did he get off giving you a nickname like that? “don’t you dare call me that again.” you hissed through gritted teeth, poking him in the chest as you said so. this caught you and thanos completely off guard, but you weren’t surprised you were lashing out now; this place made everyone tense, clearly. you heard your number get called just then, talk about perfect timing, and you were able to leave the situation with the last word. but little did you know then, you would not be having the last laugh.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it was back up those never ending stairs again. one thing was for certain, you were getting an insane workout through all of this. you scoured the numbers of the crowd for dae-ho’s 388, and sure enough you found him. he was more towards the front, and you shamelessly pushed past various other contestants to get to him. you wanted to set the record straight about what you had said yesterday, the moment was on constant replay in your brain during lights out and you truly just felt awful. the look of hurt on his face would forever be imprinted in the back of your mind, even if he forgave you.

“388!” you called out, catching his attention. much to your shock, he spun around rather earnestly at the sound of your voice, to be honest you were expecting him to ignore you. “oh, hey (Y/N)! i was wondering where you were.” you were taken aback at how friendly he was being with you, as if you hadn’t made a very personal jab the other night— however unintentional it may have been. “are you alright..?” you asked, not doing much to mask the unease in your voice. he cocked his head in a confused manner, laughing almost nervously. “me? i mean i’m nervous i guess but i’d say i’m alright— i’ve got a new group of allies now so that’s good!” he nodded over to the three older men walking in front of you two. you recognized one of these men, 456, as the guy who was getting everyone through the first game. “oh, well that’s good..” you felt yourself trail off, had he completely forgotten what happened between you two at the voting? dae-ho noticed the solemn expression now decorating your face. “are you alright?”

“i don’t know..” you inadvertently avoided eye contact as you all began to make your way through a series of doors. “i feel awful about yesterday.. i really don’t know why i said that.” you confessed. you could see dae-ho mentally putting the pieces together before his eyes widened, an audible gasp of realization leaving his lips. after a moment, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “oh, don’t worry about that! i know you didn’t mean anything by it—“ he laughed, patting your back. “you mean your not mad at me?” your eyes lit up in an almost cartoonish manner, earning a warm smile from your friend. “of course not! i get that this place is definitely putting everyone on edge, so people won’t really act like themselves.” you were so relieved at dae-ho’s sheer level of understanding. “so… we’re cool, then?” you ask. “yeah,” dae-ho affirms, looking down at you in the same way he did after Red Light Green Light, “we’re cool.”

things were all fine and dandy, that lump of shame had gone away from your throat, you were feeling better again— you almost completely forgot that you were all about to be subject to more sick games. the crowd of people dispersed into a giant room with rainbow-sky walls and what seemed to be two large rainbow tracks on the floor. as the voice on the intercom explained the game, and detailed the fact that teams of five were required, you and dae-ho nodded to one another as if to mentally solidify being on each other’s team. “well this works out perfectly,” one of dae-ho’s newly established friends, player 390, happily concluded. “now that dae-ho’s friend is joining us, we’ve got a team already!” you were amused to be apart of their team, as they already seemed to have such a firm bond. “and here you were, worried we wouldn’t be able to form a team fast enough.” player 001 remarked, looking to player 456 who still seemed a bit uneasy. you couldn’t blame him of course, he was probably still working through some stuff mentally after his first encounter with these games.

“if we don’t end up going first,” 456 began, catching the group’s attention. “we should watch the others closely as they play.” dae-ho nodded in agreement. “yeah! we could pick up on their strategies, to give us a better chance at winning.” you all chatted amongst yourselves, coming up with a game plan (no pun intended) for what was sure to be quite the nail biter of a game. you guys almost didn’t hear the little voice that called to your attention.

“can i please join your team?”

you all turned around and were met with a short woman with very unique hair, sporting the number 222 on her jacket. she seemed almost desperate, as if having been turned down by every other group. “sorry miss, but we already have five.” 390 explained sympathetically, but 222 was persistent. “please.” she begged again, this time bringing a hand to her belly. “i’m pregnant.” if there was anything to change the game, it was that. you guys locked eyes for a moment, before you spoke up.

“you can absolutely be apart of their team!” her eyes lit up from the defeated countenance she wore a second ago. the men looked at you stunned, dae-ho especially. “it’s alright, if there’s already five i can ask someone else-“

“i won’t hear it.” you insisted, catching 222 off guard. you could tell she didn’t want to take your place, but you would feel awful if someone in her condition was to lose their life in a place like this. “you need a strong, reliable group. i can find someone else, it’s no trouble.”

“if you’re sure..” 222 said, “thank you.” you nodded, before walking off. you looked back for a brief moment, even if you died in these games, you could hold your head up knowing that you just did the right thing. however, the look of fear and concern that dae-ho was giving you didn’t fail to break your heart. you knew he was worried but you also knew that that decision needed to be made.

you roamed the area somewhat aimlessly, starting to lose hope of claiming an empty spot in one of the teams. each player you made eye contact with gave you a disgusted look before turning their backs to you. you weren’t going to lie, every time you glanced at the clock your palms got slightly more sweaty. god were you going to be eliminated before the game even began? you’re mind began to resume reeling until

“hey, did you want to join our team?”

you spun around faster than you’d care to admit, eyes widened in desperation. a cool, punk rock looking chick donning the number 380 was standing before you, head cocked in anticipation. without a question you nodded and accepted her invite, to which she simply said “sweet, follow me.”, and that you certainly did. you wondered who your new team was, surely they were a group of standup individuals— well, as standup as one could be in an establishment like this one.

all of your hopes were entirely dashed when you saw just who was apart of your team.

thanos. man you just could not escape this guy, huh. he was surprised to see you too, though more on the pleasant side than you were. “woah, we meet again señorita.” you rolled your eyes at the nickname once again, seems like you were stuck with it now. “you know this rando?” the player dubbed 124, standing suspiciously close to thanos piped up, gesturing towards you. “that’s the one i was telling you about.” thanos explained, giving his friend a side glance. “ah, the ‘playing hard to get’ girl..” 380 cleared her throat, catching these two boys off guard. “y’know it’s rude to talk about people as if they aren’t standing right there.” you were relieved that you had someone else to stand up for you here. 124 snickered. “well if it bothers her that much she can always leave—“ “no.” thanos interjected, extending an arm infront of his buddy. “she stays.” he raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way as if you were supposed to thank him for his ‘noble’ act.

just then, the timer came to an end, and all the teams were instructed to sit down in designated lines. even if you wanted to leave, it was too late. you were stuck with thanos and his weird friend. but at least 380 seemed to have your back. as the first team was getting set up you found yourself thinking about dae-ho. you hoped their team made it through, hell you actually hoped they survived more than you thought about your own survival. you had never prayed to anything, for anything in all your life. but in that moment, you prayed as hard as you could for one thing.

“dear god, not like this.”

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

AT LAST, PART 2 IS COMPLETE!! idk if i’ll do a part 3 or not, it all depends on if you guys like it! i really hope this was up to standard, and worth the wait. i pulled out the big guns for this one but part of me is worried it doesn’t make a lick of sense 😅 regardless of my lack of writer’s confidence, i truly hope you enjoyed!

have a magnificent day/night lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet @l5byrinth @chxrrybomb22 @deathsmellzz @bl4z3db4by @katscloudy

[cuntyji]

RED SEA DIVING CLUB ౨ৎ VARIOUS X FEMALE READER

synopsis: your period is here, but guess what? so are your men, and they all have very different approaches to the situation. it’s a mess, literally, but so are you. and they all love it here.

content warnings: suggestive content (no explicit description, it's mostly just crack headcanons because writing smut scares me), periods, period sex

author's note: chuckles nervously and prays this does not flop

sukuna does a little interpretative dance in his head when you ask him to go down on you during your period. it’s a whole theatrical performance up there—twirls, jazz hands, maybe even a dramatic bow at the end. whoopsie, he loves blood, has loved it for millennia, and hey, he loves you too! there’s sheer tension in the air, a moment so raw and intimate—except he looks like a kid in a candy store, eyes practically sparkling with excitement. he thinks he looks reaalll sexy, some smug, brooding beast of a man, but in reality? he just looks giddy, like a dog that just heard the word "walk." “ohhh, baby, y'spoiling me,” he drawls, cracking his knuckles like he’s about to feast. you blink, and suddenly his face is buried between your legs like he’s got a personal vendetta against your thighs. he's winning.

choso, on the other hand, is the one asking to do the deed. he’s curious, fascinated even. “so... s'still okay, right?” he asks, blinking at you with all the innocence of a man who has lived for over a century but still somehow lacks the finer understanding of menstruation. sure, he knows what it is, but the nuances? the societal taboos? the way some guys act like you’ve summoned an ancient curse when you bleed on the sheets? nah, all of that flies right over his head. “do you want to?” you ask, testing him. he nods. so earnestly, too. “yeah.” well, are you complaining? is he stopping? hell no. he’s already got his hair tied back like he’s about to solve an economic crisis, shoulders squared like this is a challenge he’s fully prepared to take on. a scholar in his field. dedication unmatched.

toji is not squeamish. period? what period? this is child’s play to him. unlike your loser exes who whined the second a speck of red touched the sheets, toji merely grunts, “eh, we’ll wash ‘em later,” before promptly ruining them further. he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even pause—just goes about it like usual, putting the dirty in down and dirty. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after, grins, and says, “tastes the same.” (bro?????) he doesn’t even make a thing of it. it’s just sex - just you, just the same old routine, except maybe a little messier. what a man.

gojo, meanwhile, is relieved periods are a once in a month thing. not because he minds the blood—please, (💅) he’s a sorcerer, he’s seen worse—but because, as much as he loves the post-period ovulation package deal that turns you into the horniest creature alive, he’s not exactly jumping with joy at the idea of cleaning up every time you two tear into each other. “babe, i love you,” he says, voice dripping with exaggerated affection, “but we might have to invest in some, like... plastic sheets.” yet, the moment you so much as blink your lashes at him, he’s already laying you out like a starfish. no thoughts. just action. he’s a loving partner, after all.

geto, bless his heart, frowns slightly when you mention it. this is your healing girl era, your resting girl era, and he believes in honoring that. “hmm, i think we should wait,” he says, ever the rational, reasonable man. strictly, at that. no debate. until you sigh dramatically grab your rose toy like thor's hammer, about to embark on a solo pilgrimage. and suddenly? he’s giving you a ride to poundtown. a whoooolllle first-class trip. “oh? you had the energy to go looking for that thing but not to come sit on my lap?” he muses, dark eyes narrowing as he slides a hand up your thigh. oh, joy!

nanami, on the other hand, feels like activities like these can wait. sex isn’t everything, and there are other ways to relieve your cramps. he massages your lower back, makes you warm tea, rubs slow circles into your stomach with his broad, calloused hand. but. if you beg reaaalllllly nicely, voice all soft and sweet, looking up at him with those desperate eyes... well. who is he to say no? “fine.” he exhales, already unbuttoning his shirt. “but you’re washing the sheets.”

a/n: hi

[thewritetofreespeech]

How are you?

Please, can you write Wife reader taking care of burnt Nanami that sometimes still has his burn injury uncomfortable even if it kind of healed from the incident (he didn't die, never happened) with cream and kisses and then they go to a date at night together. Enjoying eachother company! 💖

I guess Nanami still sometimes has insecurities resurface, but reader always reassures him and he does believe her. Forgetting them most of the time.

-Selenophile 🌙🌌✨

Sometimes, when Nanami was lost in thought or let his guard down for a moment, he forgot what he looked like now.

In his mind he pictured a man who was relatively handsome. Stern features. Strong jaw. Western appearance and hazel eyes. This was the man he thought he was in his mind. The image of himself. It wasn’t until he walked in front of a mirror or stepped out of the shower like now, that he remembered he wasn’t that man anymore.

“Nanami? Is everything ok?”

He heard his partner come into the bathroom, glancing at them out of his good, remaining eye, before looking back at the sink. “Yes, I’m fine.” He turned off the water. Not quite sure what he had been doing with it on; maybe planning to brush his teeth, but what was the point.

“Ok…well, let me get your ointment on and we can head to bed.” [Y/N] told him.

“I don’t want to.” Shoko had created it for him specifically. To help with the lingering pain at night and help with some of the scaring. But he would never be back to the way he was. The scars would always be there. His eye would still be gone. None of it mattered.

“Come on. Don’t be like that. You say that now but in the middle of the night you won’t be able to sleep. Let me help you.”

“I said I’m fine!” Nanami snapped at them. Bristling at being taken care of. That he had to be taken care of now. He had worked so hard to be independent, get away from this stupid world of sorcery, and to be his best self. Now he was reduced to an invalid that needed his partner to rub cream on him like an old man or a baby. It was humiliating.

Nanami lifted his arm when he spoke. To bat them away or keep them at bay he wasn’t sure. What he did know was that it hurt, as lifting his arm higher than his shoulder on his damaged side right now was not ideal.

[Y/N] winced in tandem with his pain. Holding up their hands passively as Nanami went to sit on the toilet and hang his head in shame. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Nanami said at first as he stared at the tile. Eventually, however, he opened up. “Everything is different.”

“Hmm…I suppose that’s true.” [Y/N] agreed. Taking this moment of reflection & distraction to grab the ointment and apply it to his shoulder. “But I wouldn’t say everything is different. You’re still Nanami. You’re still you.”

“I can barely lift my arm over my head.”

“And a month ago you could barely walk.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After the incident, Nanami had been put in intensive care at the school for a long time. Monitored. Tube fed. Surgeries he wasn’t even aware of in his unconscious state to try and undo and stabilize some of the damage Jogo & Mahito had done to him. He had to relearn almost everything. Get his stump of a left hand to be somewhat of a semblance of a limb. Learn how to walk again with the damage done to his leg by the transfiguration. Regain some depth perception with one eye. It had been hard, grueling work, and some days Nanami thought it wasn’t worth all the fuss. Yet, he seemed too stubborn to die still.

“Things will continue to get better. We just have to keep working on them and do what Shoko says for your recovery.”

“You don’t mind being partnered with a monster.” Nanami asked as he glanced up at [Y/N], who frowned at him.

“Do you really think me that shallow?” They asked. Closing the ointment and putting it away. Finished now, between all this introspection. “You’re looks didn’t even break the top 10 on why I’m with you, Nanami. I love your determination. I love how you want to help people, even though you deny it. I love how funny you are. And most of all, I love you. Honestly, I didn’t think you were so vain until now. Maybe I need to reassess my priorities.” Nanami chuckled. Realizing they were joking and wrapped his arms around their waist.

“I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without you.”

[Y/N] wrapped their arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head. “Yes, you would have. But I’m glad I could help.” Nanami tilted his head up and gave [Y/N] a full kiss. “Would you like to go to bed now?” He nodded, and went to go change out of his towel.

He knew his path to full recovery was going to be hard. That is was going to be a long process for him to be his new self. But as he laid in bed next to [Y/N], Nanami knew he could do it. Because he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

[mcrdvcks]

—what is this feeling?

summary: You and Peter have known each other since you were kids—only because you were friends with his distant cousin Olivia. While you have harbored a crush on him for years, you're sure he doesn't feel the same.

word count: 16.2k+ (31.6k+ total)

pairing: Peter Lyman x fem!reader

notes: i watched scoop (2006) for the first time a week-ish ago and i needed to write something with peter. it's kinda canon to the movie—in the sense that it follows a tiny bit of the story, mainly just the parties that were shown.

this was actually a bit hard to write, i kept second guessing myself wondering if i got his character right or not. i hope i did, bc this is a roller coaster. and also, be sure to look at the tags, because when i say toxic peter lyman, i mean it. and please don't ask how this is 32k words, i have no idea how it happened 😅

since it is so long, there are two parts to this since tumblr has a word limit!

warnings/tags: loosely follows event of scoop (2006) but not canon, miscommunication, shy!reader, slow burn, jealousy, angst, mention of murder/death, toxic peter lyman, but also sweet peter lyman (the duality of man), happy ending, not proofread

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

You looked away from the mirror at your friend Olivia, who just got off the phone. “I’m sorry. I can’t go tonight. My boss just called about a work emergency and it’s all hands-on deck.”

“Oh.” You replied, setting down your lipstick, one you thankfully hadn’t applied yet. “Well, I guess I’ll get out of your hair and go back to my pla—”

Olivia gasped, holding you by the shoulders. “What? No, you’re going to that concert.”

Your eyebrows rose and you stuttered, “but—”

She cut you off with a grin, “c’mon, it’ll give you time to bond with Peter.” Olivia drawled.

You felt your cheeks heat up, “I don’t…” You trailed off, looking away from her and focusing on the wall behind her. There was a small blotch of white paint on her tan wall.

“You’ve spent a lot of time with him. Ever since we were kids.”

"Yeah, but he’s your cousin," you interjected, hoping Olivia would drop it.

Olivia rolled her eyes, squeezing your shoulders for emphasis. “Seriously, Y/N, it’s Peter. He’s nice, he likes you, and you’ve been to a million family things with him. What’s the big deal?”

You frowned, shaking her hands off. “It’s different, okay? You’re usually there, or someone else is. I don’t—I just feel awkward when it’s just the two of us.”

She gave you a knowing smirk, leaning against the doorframe. “Awkward, huh? Or are you worried you’ll stutter every time he so much as looks at you?”

“I don’t—” you started to protest, but Olivia laughed.

“You do. You totally do.”

You crossed your arms, cheeks burning. “Can we not do this right now? I’ll just tell him you can’t make it, and we’ll both skip—problem solved.”

Olivia groaned and grabbed her coat. “Nope, not happening. He’s already on his way to pick us up. You’re going. You’re putting on that lipstick. And you’re going to sit through the concert without spontaneously combusting.”

“Liv!” you whined, but she just winked, swinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Have fun!” she chirped, then disappeared out the door before you could come up with a good excuse to chase her down.

---

Peter arrived about fifteen minutes later, sharp as ever in a tailored black coat and that impossibly confident smile. You opened the door, trying not to feel self-conscious under his gaze.

“Y/N,” he greeted warmly. “Ready for the evening?”

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered, stepping aside to let him in. “Liv had a work thing come up, so it’s just, um… us.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise passing over his face before he nodded. “Shame she can’t make it. But I suppose it’ll give us a chance to catch up.”

You managed a small smile, grabbing your coat. “Right. Catch up.”

---

The car ride to the concert hall was quiet, save for Peter’s occasional remarks about the evening’s program. He seemed perfectly at ease, while you stared out the window, hyper-aware of how close you were sitting.

When the car stopped, Peter stepped out first, offering you a hand as you climbed out. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” he asked, gesturing to the grand concert hall.

“A few times,” you replied, trying to sound casual. “It’s always… impressive.”

He smiled. “Wait until you hear tonight’s performance. It’s one of my favorites.”

---

Inside, you settled into your seats—side by side, of course. The lights dimmed, and the orchestra began to tune, the hum of violins filling the air. Peter leaned closer, his voice low.

“Do you know this piece?”

You turned to him, surprised by how close he was. “Not really. Should I?”

He chuckled softly. “I think you’ll like it. Very dramatic.”

You nodded, quickly looking back at the stage, but you could feel his eyes on you for a moment longer before he leaned back into his seat.

---

At intermission, you both stood in the crowded foyer, surrounded by elegant couples sipping champagne. Peter handed you a glass, his expression thoughtful.

“So,” he said, “how are you finding it so far? Be honest.”

“It’s… really beautiful,” you admitted, fidgeting with the stem of your glass. “I don’t usually go to things like this, but it’s nice.”

He studied you for a moment, then smiled. “You’ve always been good at appreciating the little things. It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you.”

You nearly choked on your sip of champagne, glancing up at him in surprise. “Oh. Um… thank you.”

Peter’s smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You don’t need to look so startled, Y/N. It’s just a compliment.”

“Right,” you said quickly, cheeks heating up again. “Of course. Thanks.”

He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure you out. “You’re adorable when you’re nervous, you know that?”

“I—what?” you stammered, but before you could finish, the bell chimed, signaling the end of intermission.

Peter offered his arm, his tone light but teasing. “Shall we?”

You hesitated for a moment, then looped your arm through his, your heart pounding as you followed him back to your seats.

---

Once the concert was over, Peter led you out of the concert hall, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back. The crowd thinned as the night air hit your face, crisp and cool compared to the warmth inside. His car waited at the curb, sleek and polished, and he opened the door for you without hesitation.

“Still enjoying yourself?” he asked once you were both seated, his tone light.

“Yes,” you replied, glancing at him. “It was… really amazing. Thank you for inviting me.”

He gave a small, thoughtful smile, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. “I’m glad you came. I was afraid I’d be sitting through it alone tonight.”

The comment was harmless, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wondering—was that why he hadn’t seemed to mind Olivia’s absence? You pushed the thought aside, unsure what to say, and instead watched the city lights blur through the window.

---

When the car pulled up in front of your apartment building, Peter stepped out quickly, coming around to open your door. You murmured a quiet “thank you” as you stepped out, feeling the weight of his presence beside you. He walked you to the building’s entrance, his movements effortlessly graceful as always.

“You didn’t have to walk me up,” you said softly, fumbling with your keys.

Peter raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, isn’t it?”

You smiled faintly, unlocking the door and stepping inside with him close behind. The elevator ride was silent, though you caught him glancing at you once or twice. Your heart felt like it was lodged in your throat by the time you reached your floor.

When you reached your apartment door, you turned to face him, unsure how to say goodnight without sounding awkward. Peter beat you to it.

“Tonight was lovely,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “You were good company.”

“Thanks,” you said, heat rushing to your face. “You too.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Peter’s expression softened, his tone casual but warm. “You don’t have to feel obligated to say yes every time Olivia drags you along, you know. I’d hate to think you’re going to these things just because you feel like you should.”

Your chest tightened. Was he saying he thought you didn’t want to be here? That you’d only come because Olivia wasn’t around to take your place? You forced a polite smile, ignoring the strange twist in your stomach.

“I don’t mind,” you said lightly, hoping it sounded convincing. “It’s always nice to catch up.”

Peter smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Good. Then… goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you replied softly, watching as he turned and walked back toward the elevator. You stood there for a moment, listening to the faint hum of the elevator descending before you finally stepped inside your apartment and leaned against the door.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, your thoughts spinning. Did you just get friendzoned? You shook your head, groaning under your breath. “Don’t overthink it,” you muttered to yourself, but the knot in your chest didn’t budge.

---

The next morning, Olivia burst into your apartment, barely waiting for you to open the door. “Well? How was it?” she asked, her grin wide as she plopped onto your couch.

You blinked, still holding your mug of coffee. “Uh, it was fine.”

“Fine?” she repeated, narrowing her eyes. “You went to the Philharmonic with Peter Lyman, and all you’ve got for me is ‘fine’? No way. Spill.”

You sighed, setting your mug on the table and sitting down across from her. “It was fine. He was polite, as always, and we had a nice time. But…” You hesitated, staring at your hands.

“But?” Olivia prompted, leaning forward eagerly.

“I think he sees me as, like, your friend who tags along to family stuff. He made some comment about not feeling obligated to go to these things, like I only went because you couldn’t.”

Olivia frowned. “What? That doesn’t sound like Peter.”

“Maybe not, but that’s how it came across,” you said, shrugging. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect anything else.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “You’re not seriously going to let one weird comment freak you out, are you?”

“I’m not freaking out,” you replied quickly, though the heat in your face said otherwise. “I just… I don’t want to make things awkward.”

“Y/N,” Olivia said, crossing her arms. “Peter’s not an idiot. If he said that, he probably didn’t mean it the way you’re taking it.”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Thanks,” you muttered, but she just laughed.

“Don’t worry,” she said, standing up. “If I know Peter, he’ll figure it out eventually.” She paused, giving you a sly grin. “In the meantime, maybe try not to overthink it.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as she left the room.

---

A week later, you and Olivia had a movie night at your place, and old romcom she loved in the DVD player.

You had your legs tucked under you, barely focusing on the movie before gaining enough courage to face her. “Liv? Do you think… well—you, I got…”

She took her gaze away from the TV. “Hmm. Could be anything that’s got you stuttering like that.” She grabbed your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Okay. Spill.”

You took a deep breath, blurting out, “Joshua asked me on a date.”

Olivia sat up straighter, grabbing the remote and pausing the movie. “Joshua? Like Lord Beckett’s youngest son? That Joshua?”

You squirmed under her gaze. “Yeah. Apparently, he works as a journalist. He came over to the firm and was interviewing my boss.”

Olivia blinked, then leaned back with an exaggerated laugh. “Oh my God, that’s rich. Joshua Beckett, out of nowhere, asking you out?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How’d he even swing that?”

You frowned. “I mean, he was… nice? Polite? We just talked for a bit after his meeting, and then—bam—he asked.”

Olivia smirked. “Did you say yes?”

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to be rude,” you admitted, your voice shrinking.

She threw a pillow at you. “What the hell, Y/N? This isn’t ‘polite conversation’ territory—it’s a date! You can’t just agree because you don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.”

“I didn’t know how to say no!” you shot back, clutching the pillow to your chest. “He caught me off guard. And honestly, he seemed… fine?”

“Fine,” Olivia deadpanned. “High praise, as always.”

You sighed. “Look, it’s just one dinner. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Olivia squinted at you like she didn’t buy it for a second. “Right. And this has nothing to do with Peter, huh?”

Your stomach flipped, and you quickly avoided her gaze. “This has nothing to do with Peter.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said knowingly. “So, when’s this casual, meaningless dinner happening?”

“Friday,” you mumbled.

“Friday,” she repeated with a hum, then grinned slyly. “Guess who’s getting a phone call.”

You looked at her in alarm. “No! You’re not calling Peter!”

“Oh, I’m not?” she teased, already reaching for her phone.

“Liv, I swear—”

“Relax, I’m kidding!” she said with a laugh, setting her phone aside. “But seriously, Y/N… Joshua? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

You groaned, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t know, okay? I panicked. It’s not like Peter’s lining up to ask me out, anyway.”

Olivia’s smirk softened into something more thoughtful. “Peter’s… complicated,” she said after a moment. “But you know he cares about you, right? I mean, he wouldn’t—”

You cut her off, shaking your head. “Let’s not do this. I can’t think about Peter and… whatever this is. Not when I’m already overthinking everything else.”

Olivia hesitated but eventually nodded. “Fine. But for the record, I don’t think you’re overthinking. I think you’re underthinking Peter.”

You groaned again, burying your face in the pillow. “Can we just finish the movie?”

“Sure,” she said, grabbing the remote. But as she pressed play, she muttered under her breath, “You’re totally underthinking it.”

---

Peter glanced at Olivia, who was reclining with a magazine in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, her legs crossed lazily. The faint echoes of splashing water and the quiet hum of conversation filled the air around the indoor pool.

“Perhaps you’d like to come to the garden party Father is throwing on Sunday,” Peter said, his voice casual as he stretched his arms.

Olivia glanced up briefly. “Sure, sounds nice. Is it the usual crowd?”

Peter nodded, stepping to the edge of the pool. “More or less. Family, some of Father’s associates. Nothing too overwhelming.” He paused, his tone shifting just slightly. “Will Y/N be coming?”

Olivia raised an eyebrow, setting down her tea. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ll ask her after her date tonight.”

Peter froze, mid-step, before lowering himself to sit at the pool’s edge. “Date?” His voice was calm, but the word lingered in the air.

“Yeah, with Joshua Beckett,” Olivia said nonchalantly, flipping a page in her magazine. “You know, Lord Beckett’s youngest. He ran into her at work and asked her out. She said yes.”

Peter’s expression didn’t falter, though his fingers tapped lightly against his knee. “Joshua Beckett,” he repeated, as though testing the name on his tongue.

“Mhm,” Olivia said, still focused on her magazine. “Journalist. Apparently, he’s charming. She didn’t seem overly excited, though.”

“Hmm.” Peter slipped into the pool gracefully, the water rippling around him. “Well, good for her. I hope it goes well.”

Olivia glanced at him over the edge of her magazine, a smirk tugging at her lips. “You sound thrilled.”

Peter’s lips twitched in a polite smile, though he avoided her gaze. “Just being supportive.”

Olivia snorted, setting her magazine aside and standing up. “Right. Well, I’m off to the spa. I need a massage after this long week. Don’t drown or anything.”

Peter waved a hand as he began a slow backstroke. “Enjoy your massage.”

“Thanks,” Olivia said breezily, heading for the door. “Oh, and I’ll let you know if Y/N decides to come on Sunday.”

Peter didn’t reply, his focus seemingly on the water, though his strokes became a little sharper, his movements a touch less fluid. When Olivia was gone, he exhaled slowly, staring up at the high ceiling.

“Joshua Beckett,” he muttered to himself, his voice low and contemplative, before diving underwater.

---

You and Olivia walked through the hedges into the garden area, where small tables were set up and people already mingling.

“Do you think they have those finger sandwiches I like?” you asked Olivia, scanning the tables set up around the garden. Your voice was quieter than usual, the low hum of polite chatter filling the air.

“I’m sure they do,” Olivia replied, smirking. “I mean, Peter’s father wouldn’t dare host a garden party without catering to your very specific sandwich preferences, right?”

You rolled your eyes, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re hilarious.”

“Always,” she said, giving you a quick pat on the shoulder before her eyes drifted to the side. “Oh, speaking of Peter—there he is. He looks like he’s on host duty already.”

Before you could turn, Olivia raised a hand, waving him over.

Peter approached with his usual effortless confidence, a light smile on his face. His suit was perfectly tailored—charcoal gray, understated but sharp—and he moved with the ease of someone who had never once felt out of place in a crowd.

“Olivia,” he greeted warmly. “Y/N.” His gaze flicked to you, lingering just a second longer than necessary. “Glad you could both make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Olivia said, grinning. “I already saw the sandwiches, by the way. You’ve kept Y/N’s favorites. Excellent hosting.”

Peter chuckled softly. “Of course. Wouldn’t dream of disappointing.” He shifted slightly, his eyes scanning the immediate area. “Where’s she gone?”

Olivia blinked and glanced beside her, only to realize you were no longer there. “Wait, what? She was just—”

Peter raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Impressive. That might be the quickest escape yet.”

“She does that sometimes,” Olivia said, sighing dramatically. “It’s like she’s made of smoke or something. Well, I’m sure she hasn’t gone far. I’ll catch up with her in a bit.”

Peter gave a polite nod, though his gaze was already moving past her, scanning the clusters of guests. “No need. I’ll find her.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and disappeared into the garden’s maze of tables and guests.

---

You were standing by one of the smaller tables, a tiny plate in hand, already nibbling on a finger sandwich. You’d ducked out as soon as Peter walked over—not because you didn’t want to talk to him, but because it was always a little overwhelming when he was around. Somehow, he managed to be both incredibly easy to talk to and completely impossible to read at the same time.

The garden was peaceful, at least. You focused on the sounds of the birds and the clinking glasses, taking a moment to settle your nerves.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You jumped slightly at the sound of Peter’s voice, almost dropping your plate. He stood just a few steps away, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

“I—uh—yes,” you stammered, quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. “I was just…” You gestured vaguely to the table of food.

“Finding the sandwiches, I see,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” you admitted, glancing down at the one in your hand. “They’re really good.”

“I’m glad,” Peter replied, stepping closer. “I’ll have to thank the caterer for getting them just right. Though, knowing you, you probably would’ve just been polite if they weren’t.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his observation. “Well, I mean… it’s not like I’d complain.”

He chuckled, his gaze steady on you. “No, you wouldn’t. But I’m glad they’re up to your standards.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt heavy despite the lightness of the conversation. You fidgeted slightly, unsure what to say, until Peter spoke again.

“Did you enjoy your date?”

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, startled. “What?”

Peter stood much closer than before, his expression casual, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of curiosity. “Your date,” he said smoothly, as if it were the most natural topic in the world. “With Joshua Beckett. Olivia mentioned it.”

You ducked your head, suddenly finding your plate very interesting. “Oh, right. That. It was fine.”

“Fine,” Peter repeated, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Such high praise.”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head slightly, his tone light. “Nothing at all. Just… ‘fine’ doesn’t exactly scream thrilling success.”

“Well, it wasn’t a disaster,” you said defensively, clutching your plate tighter. “He was nice.”

“Nice,” Peter echoed, his tone amused. “That’s the second glowing endorsement.”

“Peter,” you sighed, finally meeting his gaze. “What are you getting at?”

He paused, studying you for a moment before responding. “I’m just curious. You don’t usually go out with people like Joshua.”

Your brow furrowed. “People like Joshua? What does that even mean?”

“Well,” he began, his voice as smooth as ever, “he’s the youngest son of a very ambitious family. Polished, charming, likely quite used to getting what he wants.”

“So… people like you,” you countered without thinking, then froze, immediately regretting it. “I mean—uh, not that you—just that—”

Peter laughed softly, the sound low and rich. “Touché.”

You pressed your lips together, looking down at your sandwich. “For the record, he didn’t get what he wanted.”

His brows lifted in mild surprise. “Oh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I told him I wasn’t interested in a second date.”

There was a pause, and when you glanced up, Peter’s expression was unreadable. “I see.”

Before you could decipher his tone, he straightened, glancing past you. “Excuse me a moment,” Peter said, his tone as smooth as ever. He stepped around you, heading toward the two new people with an effortless grace.

You turned, following his line of sight. A young woman with straight blonde hair and wiry glasses stood by the tables with an older man wearing a copper blazer.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his attention. Before you could process it, Olivia appeared at your side, holding a glass of sparkling water.

“Who’s he off to save now?” she asked, smirking as she handed you the glass.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, nodding toward the two strangers. “They just walked in, and he left to meet them.”

Olivia squinted in their direction, taking a sip of her drink. “Hmm. They don’t look like the usual crowd. Maybe business?”

“Could be,” you murmured, watching as Peter shook hands with the older man before gesturing toward the house.

“Should we ask?” Olivia teased, nudging your arm.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s probably something private. Let’s just stay out of it.”

Olivia grinned knowingly. “Right, because that’s exactly what we’re doing by standing here and staring.”

You sighed, looking away from the scene. “I’m just curious, okay? It’s not like I’m going to eavesdrop.”

“Sure,” Olivia said, clearly unconvinced.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter lead the two guests toward the house. His hand rested lightly on the small of the blonde woman’s back as they disappeared into the crowd. You tried not to let it bother you, but Olivia didn’t miss the way your grip on your glass tightened.

“Who’s jealous now?” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m not jealous,” you replied quickly, though your tone betrayed you.

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, smirking. “Well, if you’re not going to ask, I will.”

Before you could stop her, she turned and started following the trio.

“Olivia, wait—” you called after her, but she waved a hand dismissively over her shoulder.

---

A few minutes later, Olivia reappeared, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. She found you lingering near the garden’s edge, nervously sipping your drink.

“So, I have news,” she announced, leaning against a tree.

“Olivia,” you groaned. “What did you do?”

“Relax,” Olivia said with a grin, casually tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I just asked Peter who they were. Turns out, the blonde is Jade Spence—some aspiring actress from Palm Beach—and her father, Mr. Spence. They’re staying with the Fultons.”

You blinked, trying not to let your curiosity show too much. “The Fultons? As in… the Fultons?”

Olivia nodded, her smirk growing. “Yup. And Peter’s apparently been playing tour guide or something. He mentioned meeting her a few days ago.”

You frowned slightly, glancing toward the house where Peter had disappeared with Jade and Mr. Spence. “Tour guide?”

Olivia shrugged, swirling the water in her glass. “Or lifeguard, maybe. He said something about saving her from drowning in the pool.”

Your head whipped around. “What?”

“I know, right? So dramatic,” Olivia said with a laugh. “Apparently, it was this whole thing. She was swimming alone, started panicking, and Peter swooped in like the hero he is.”

You looked down, fiddling with the edge of your plate. “Well, that’s… nice of him.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, giving you a pointed look. “And now he’s escorting her around garden parties. Very hands-on for a guy who’s usually so… you know. Detached.”

Your stomach churned uncomfortably, but you forced a nonchalant tone. “Maybe he’s just being polite. She’s staying with the Fultons, after all.”

“Polite?” Olivia echoed, raising an eyebrow. “Y/N, Peter doesn’t do polite for strangers. He’s always charming, but this is different. He’s… interested.”

You felt your chest tighten, but you quickly shook your head. “It’s probably nothing. She’s just visiting, and he’s being a good host.”

Olivia studied you for a moment, her smirk fading. “You know, you’re allowed to be annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed,” you said quickly, but your voice wavered just enough for Olivia to catch it.

“Right,” she said, crossing her arms. “Because you’re totally fine with Peter playing Prince Charming for a random blonde from Florida.”

You frowned. “What do you want me to say, Olivia? It’s not like Peter and I—” You cut yourself off, your cheeks burning.

Olivia leaned in, her voice low but teasing. “Not like you what? C’mon, Y/N, finish that sentence.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Forget it.”

“Nope, not forgetting it,” Olivia said, pulling your hands away. “Listen, I’m not saying you need to storm the house and stake a claim or whatever. But if Peter’s trying to make you jealous, it’s working.”

You blinked at her. “You think he’s doing this on purpose?”

"Could be. I mean, Peter’s smart. He knows what he’s doing," Olivia said with a shrug, her eyes glinting mischievously.

You snorted, shaking your head. "That’s ridiculous. Why would he try to make me jealous? He doesn’t even like me like that."

Olivia tilted her head, giving you an exasperated look. "You seriously believe that?"

"Yes," you said firmly, though your voice wavered slightly. "Peter’s always been polite, maybe a little flirty, but that’s just how he is with everyone. He doesn’t—" You stopped yourself, suddenly self-conscious.

"He doesn’t what?" Olivia pressed, leaning closer with that knowing smirk.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "He doesn’t see me that way, okay? I’m just… his cousin’s friend. The tagalong at family stuff. That’s it."

Olivia’s smirk dropped, replaced by something softer. "Y/N, you’re seriously blind if you don’t think he’s at least interested."

You bit your lip, fidgeting with your drink. "It doesn’t matter. Even if he were—which he’s not—he’s clearly more interested in Jade right now."

Olivia snorted. "Jade Spence? Are you kidding? That’s just Peter being Peter. I bet he swooped in to ‘save’ her and now feels obligated to play the perfect host."

"Or maybe he actually likes her," you muttered, barely audible.

Olivia stared at you for a beat before sighing dramatically. "You’re exhausting, you know that? The guy practically lights up every time you’re in the room, and you’re over here acting like he’s planning a wedding with some random actress from Florida."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Olivia cut you off, pointing her finger at you. "Nope. Don’t even argue. If you’re too stubborn to see it, fine. But mark my words, Y/N—he’s not into Jade. He’s into you."

"That’s insane," you said quickly, brushing past her toward the refreshments table. "You’re reading way too much into this."

"Am I?" Olivia called after you, clearly enjoying herself. "Guess we’ll see."

---

Later that day when you got back to your apartment, you walked over to the rotary phone and dialed the number.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Joshua. I know I said I wasn’t interested in a second date, but—well, if you were, not that you have to…”

You cringed, gripping the phone cord tightly as silence filled the line. Then, Joshua’s warm voice came through, as composed as ever.

“Y/N, hi. I wasn’t expecting this, but… I’d love to. If you’re sure?”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, your stomach twisting with nerves. “Yeah, I mean… I thought maybe I judged too quickly last time. You’re really nice, and it wasn’t fair to just—”

“Don’t overthink it,” Joshua interrupted gently. “How about Friday? Dinner at that Italian place by the park?”

“Sure,” you replied quickly, your voice higher-pitched than usual. “Friday sounds good.”

“Great,” he said, his tone genuinely warm. “I’ll call to confirm. I’m glad you changed your mind, Y/N.”

You hung up, staring at the phone for a moment before groaning. “What am I doing?”

---

By the time Friday rolled around, Olivia had found out about the second date, of course.

“I can’t believe you called him,” she said, draped across your bed as you picked through your closet. “It’s like you’re trying to drive yourself crazy.”

“I didn’t call him to drive myself crazy,” you shot back, holding up a simple black dress. “I called because—”

“Because you were spiraling after seeing Peter with Jade Spence,” Olivia finished smugly.

You turned toward her with a glare. “That’s not why.”

“Right,” she said, sitting up and smirking. “So why is it, then?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe I just don’t want to waste a chance with someone who’s nice to me.”

Olivia snorted. “Nice? Joshua Beckett is nice? That’s the bar now?”

You sighed, tossing the dress on the bed. “He’s not just nice. He’s smart, and he listens, and—”

“And he’s not Peter,” Olivia interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

“Liv,” you groaned.

“Okay, okay,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Wear the black dress. He’ll like it. Or whatever.”

---

While you went on your date with Joshua, Olivia went to the party Peter was hosting at his place. When she entered, Peter looked at the door and grabbed two glasses of champagne. “Ah, Olivia.” They kissed each other’s cheeks as a greeting. The door closed behind her causing Peter to glance over at the now shut door. “Where is Y/N? She’s not sick again, is she?”

Olivia shrugged off her coat handing it to the waiter with a thanks. “Oh, no. She’s on a date with Joshua.” She grabbed both glasses from Peter’s hands, one clearly meant for you.

Peter’s expression didn’t change immediately, but his fingers tightened into a momentary fist. “Joshua,” he said slowly, his tone neutral. “I see.”

Olivia sipped from one of the glasses she’d swiped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Yup. Second date. She called him, actually. Kind of a bold move for Y/N, don’t you think?”

“Very bold,” Peter replied, his voice calm but clipped. “I thought she wasn’t interested.”

Olivia shrugged, her lips curling into a sly smile. “She changed her mind. Or maybe someone made her change her mind.”

Peter’s gaze flicked toward her, sharp as glass. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Olivia said innocently, taking another sip. “Just that she seemed a little… distracted after your garden party. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Of course not,” Peter said smoothly, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I didn’t realize I had such influence over her decision-making.”

Olivia tilted her head, studying him. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly indifferent, you seem awfully interested in her dating life.”

Peter’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. “She’s your friend. Naturally, I’m curious.”

“Right,” Olivia drawled, clearly enjoying herself. “Well, if you’re so curious, maybe you should ask her about it. Or better yet, tell her why it bothers you so much.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Peter said, his tone cool. “She’s free to make her own choices.”

“Uh-huh,” Olivia replied, giving him a knowing look. “So, you’re totally fine with her going out with a guy like Joshua Beckett? Polished, ambitious, very… not you?”

Peter’s lips curved into a faint, humorless smile. “What an interesting way to phrase it.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Olivia said lightly. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You know, Peter, you could just admit you like her. Might save everyone a lot of time.”

Peter didn’t answer immediately, his gaze drifting toward the door. “I think I’ll fetch another drink,” he said finally. “Excuse me.”

“Running away?” Olivia teased, but Peter was already walking off, his steps measured and deliberate.

---

“He was actually quite nice. And he likes math and sci-fi movies,” you said, plopping down onto Olivia’s couch.

Olivia leaned against the armrest, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Math and sci-fi movies? Be still my heart. Did he also show you his extensive collection of pocket protectors?”

You frowned, tossing a throw pillow at her. “I’m serious! He’s smart, and… I don’t know, easy to talk to.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, dodging the pillow effortlessly. “And yet, here you are, talking to me about him like he’s your neighbor’s golden retriever. You’re trying too hard to sell it, Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to sell anything,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “It was a nice date. That’s it.”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Did you agree to another one?”

You hesitated, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “He asked. I said I’d think about it.”

“There it is,” Olivia said, sitting up straight. “You’re not even sure, are you?”

“It’s not like that,” you protested weakly.

“It’s exactly like that,” she shot back. “You’re trying to convince yourself he’s interesting because—oh, let me guess—Peter has you in knots.”

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “Why does everything always come back to Peter with you?”

“Because you get weird whenever he’s involved!” Olivia said, throwing her hands up. “Seriously, you were fine until Jade Spence showed up with her Barbie vibes, and now you’re spiraling.”

“I am not spiraling,” you said firmly.

“Oh, please,” Olivia scoffed. “You practically ran to Joshua the second you saw Peter being nice to her. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

You glared at her. “Maybe I just wanted to see if there was something there with Joshua.”

“And?” she challenged.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “…And I don’t know.”

Olivia sighed, leaning back into the couch cushions. “Y/N, listen to me. You can go on a hundred dates with guys like Joshua, but it’s not going to change how you feel about Peter.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even try,” she interrupted, holding up a hand. “You do. And it’s painfully obvious to anyone with eyes. So, instead of wasting your time on Mr. Math Enthusiast, maybe you should figure out what’s actually going on with Peter.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the sound of the doorbell ringing cut you off. You looked at Olivia who looked at you.

“What are you doing? Go answer it.” Olivia said.

“What—but this is your apartment!” You argued.

Olivia pushed your side, “go on!”

You stood up and made it past her before turning around. “Peter’s not at the door is he?” She shrugged, not responding. “Olivia! You—”

The doorbell rang again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Olivia waved her hand toward the door, not bothering to look away from the TV. “Go already! It’s not going to answer itself.”

Muttering under your breath, you shuffled toward the door, half-wondering why Olivia wasn’t doing this herself. You swung it open, and there he was—standing impeccably dressed in a casual button-up and dark slacks, as if he’d stepped straight out of a magazine.

“Peter?” you blurted, gripping the doorknob a little tighter than necessary. “What are you doing here?”

He offered you a polite smile, holding up a small clutch. “Olivia left this behind at the party. I thought I’d return it before it got lost in the shuffle.”

You blinked, glancing at the bag in his hand. “Oh. Right. Well, thanks for bringing it by.”

“Of course.” His voice was smooth as always, but his eyes flicked past you into the apartment. “Is Olivia in?”

“Yeah, she’s—”

“Watching TV!” Olivia called from the couch. “Bring it here, Peter. And while you’re at it, grab me a soda, would you?”

You shot her a glare over your shoulder, but Peter chuckled softly. “Should I let myself in, or…?”

“Oh, come in,” Olivia said loudly. “Y/N doesn’t bite.”

Peter stepped past you with an easy smile, and you resisted the urge to retreat to the kitchen. Instead, you followed him into the living room, your stomach doing a weird little flip as he handed Olivia the clutch.

“Your soda,” he said with a smirk, “you’ll have to get yourself.”

“Ugh, useless,” Olivia teased, but she took the bag with a grin. “Thanks, though. I’d have never remembered it.”

Peter turned back to you, his expression unreadable. “So, Y/N. How was dinner with Joshua?”

Your cheeks burned immediately. “Oh, um, it was… fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated, the faintest hint of amusement in his tone. “You use that word a lot.”

“Well, it’s a good word,” you muttered, crossing your arms.

Peter didn’t look away, his gaze steady. “I take it things went well, then?”

Before you could answer, Olivia snorted. “She’s not seeing him again, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”

“Olivia!” you hissed, glaring at her.

“What?” she said, feigning innocence. “I’m just saving time.”

Peter’s brow lifted slightly, though his expression remained calm. “Not seeing him again?” he asked, directing the question to you. “That’s surprising. He seemed like a… suitable match.”

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Only that he seemed like someone who’d check all the right boxes.”

“Well, maybe I’m not interested in someone who just checks boxes,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Peter’s smile deepened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Interesting.”

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken things, until Olivia cleared her throat dramatically. “Well, this is fun, but if no one’s grabbing me a soda, I’ll do it myself.”

She hopped off the couch, leaving you alone with Peter. You shifted awkwardly, clutching your arms. “So… thanks for bringing her bag by.”

“It was no trouble,” Peter said, his voice gentler now. “I could’ve had it sent over, but I thought it’d be nice to see you both.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Right. Well… it’s good to see you too.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping just slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Your eyes widened. “What? I haven’t—”

“You disappeared at the garden party,” he interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “And you weren’t at my party yesterday.”

You looked down, heat creeping up your neck. “I wasn’t avoiding you. I just… had other things going on.”

“Like Joshua?” he asked, his voice sharp enough to make you flinch.

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. “Why does it matter?”

He held your gaze, his expression softening. “Maybe it doesn’t.”

The sound of the fridge door slamming broke the moment, and Olivia reappeared with a soda in hand. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” you said quickly, stepping back. “Peter was just leaving.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, but he didn’t argue. “I should be going. Thank you, Olivia.”

“Anytime,” she replied, smirking. “Bye, Peter.”

He turned to you one last time, his eyes lingering for a moment. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered, watching as he left.

Once the door shut, Olivia let out a low whistle. “Well, that was something.”

“Don’t,” you warned, already heading for the kitchen.

“I didn’t say anything!” Olivia called after you, her voice full of laughter. “But seriously, Y/N, you might want to think about what you’re doing.”

You groaned, opening the fridge. “What I’m doing is making tea.”

“Sure,” Olivia said lightly. “Because tea will totally solve your Peter problem.”

You slammed the fridge door shut, wishing it were that simple.

---

Joshua invited you over to a philharmonic concert. He had brought it up while he had taken you out for lunch during your break.

You accepted and now were walking through the elegant, familiar foyer of the concert hall, arm in arm with Joshua. The polished marble floors reflected the soft glow of the chandeliers, and the hum of polite conversation filled the air.

Joshua glanced at you, his smile easy. “You’ve been here before, haven’t you? You seem comfortable.”

“Once or twice,” you replied, trying not to think about the last time. With Peter.

“Ah, of course,” Joshua said lightly. “It’s one of my favorite venues. The acoustics are exceptional.”

As he spoke, your eyes caught a familiar figure just across the room. Peter. He was standing near the staircase, chatting with Jade Spence, who laughed at something he said, her hand briefly touching his arm.

You stiffened, and Joshua followed your gaze. His brow lifted slightly. “Peter Lyman. What a surprise. Didn’t expect to see him here tonight.”

Your voice was tight. “He enjoys the Philharmonic.”

Joshua chuckled softly. “Don’t we all? Come on, let’s say hello.”

“Wait—” you started, but Joshua was already steering you toward them.

Peter noticed you first. His eyes flickered from Joshua to you, his expression unreadable, though there was a subtle shift in his posture. Jade turned as well, her bright smile widening when she saw Joshua.

“Joshua Beckett,” Peter greeted smoothly, his voice carrying that effortless charm. “Good to see you.”

“Peter,” Joshua replied, shaking his hand. “And Jade Spence, of course. I heard you were in town.”

Jade’s laugh was nervous. “Uh—yes, with my father.” Her gaze shifted to you, her smile polite but curious. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said softly, glancing at Peter briefly. His gaze was steady, focused, and unsettlingly intense.

“Ah, yes,” Jade said, her tone light. “I think Peter mentioned you.”

Your stomach flipped at that, but Joshua cut in before you could dwell on it. “Y/N is a dear friend. We’re enjoying the evening together.”

Peter’s jaw tightened, though his smile didn’t falter. “How lovely. I’m sure you’ll both enjoy the program tonight. It’s one of my favorites.”

“You’ve got great taste, as always,” Joshua replied smoothly, before glancing at his watch. “We should find our seats, Y/N. Don’t want to miss the overture.”

“Of course,” you said quickly, eager to leave the tension hanging in the air.

“Enjoy the performance,” Peter said, his eyes lingering on you as Joshua led you away. You didn’t dare look back.

---

Your seats were directly in front of Peter and Jade. As the orchestra began, you focused on the stage, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a weight on your back. Joshua leaned closer to point out something about the composer, his voice low and warm, but you barely heard him.

Peter, meanwhile, wasn’t paying attention to the orchestra at all. His eyes never left you, the flicker of a frown crossing his face whenever Joshua leaned in or made you smile.

Jade noticed. She shifted slightly in her seat, her voice a soft whisper. “Peter, you’re not even looking at the stage.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still locked on you. Finally, he leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Just admiring the company,” he said smoothly.

Jade glanced at you and Joshua, then back at Peter. Her brow arched, but she said nothing, returning her attention to the performance.

---

At intermission, you stayed in your seat, flipping through the concert program and trying to focus on the upcoming pieces. Joshua had gone to grab drinks, leaving you alone in the steadily emptying hall. The chatter of other patrons filled the space, but you tuned it out.

The soft creak of the seat next to you folding down made you glance up. Peter.

He sat with effortless ease, one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. “You always were the studious type, weren’t you?” His voice was smooth, teasing but gentle.

You blinked, glancing between him and the program in your hands. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s intermission,” he replied simply, his gaze steady. “Thought I’d say hello. Is that a problem?”

“No,” you said quickly, shifting slightly in your seat. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter smirked faintly. “I’ve been told I’m full of surprises.” He leaned back slightly, his tone casual. “You know, this concert reminds me of when Olivia insisted you both take violin lessons. What were you—ten? Eleven?”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the memory. “I was ten. Olivia was eleven.”

He nodded, his smile growing. “Right. And she quit after one session, didn’t she? Said something about the teacher being ‘a tyrant in a cardigan.’”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “She hated it. And she convinced her parents it was pointless for both of us to continue, even though I wanted to keep going.”

Peter’s eyes softened. “I remember. You were disappointed for weeks.”

You glanced down at the program, your voice quieter now. “I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“I noticed,” Peter said, his tone gentler. “You have this way of hiding how you feel, but it’s always there if you know where to look.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, Peter glanced toward the aisle. “Here comes your date.”

You followed his gaze and spotted Joshua making his way back, carrying two glasses of wine. Peter stood smoothly, his polite smile firmly back in place.

“Enjoy the rest of the concert,” he said, his tone light as he stepped aside to let Joshua pass.

Joshua handed you one of the glasses, glancing at Peter as he moved back toward his own seat. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, taking a sip of your wine. “He was just saying hello.”

Joshua nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “You and Peter are close, aren’t you?”

You hesitated. “I guess. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“Hmm,” Joshua murmured, his gaze flicking briefly toward Peter and Jade, who were chatting again near the back of the hall. “He seems… invested.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice defensive.

Joshua shrugged, a faint smile on his lips. “Just an observation.”

The bell chimed, signaling the end of intermission. You followed Joshua back to your seats, settling in as the lights dimmed.

As the orchestra began, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You didn’t dare glance back, but you could feel Peter’s gaze like a tangible weight.

Joshua leaned closer, pointing out something in the performance. You nodded along, but your focus was elsewhere.

Behind you, Peter sat beside Jade, his expression unreadable as his eyes lingered on you. Jade noticed, her voice barely a whisper. “Peter, you’re missing the performance.”

“I’m not,” he murmured, though his gaze remained fixed on you.

Jade sighed softly but didn’t press further, turning her attention back to the stage.

You, meanwhile, tried to ignore the tension coiling in your chest, the strange awareness that had followed you since intermission.

The music swelled, filling the hall, but all you could think about was the man sitting just a few rows behind you.

---

“He what?” Olivia shrieked. “Oh, man. He’s relentless.”

“What do you mean ‘relentless?’” you said, crossing your arms and leaning against Olivia’s kitchen counter. “He’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.”

Olivia froze mid-sip of her tea, her eyebrows shooting up. Slowly, she set the mug down and turned to face you fully, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Ohhh, so now you admit it.”

“Admit what?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.

“That you care,” Olivia said, smirking. “Because last I checked, you were all ‘Peter’s not into me,’ and ‘Jade Spence is just a guest,’ blah, blah, blah.”

You scoffed, pushing off the counter. “That’s not what this is about. I just think it’s ridiculous you’re calling him relentless when he’s clearly moved on.”

Olivia gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Moved on? From what, exactly? Because to move on, you’d have to have been on something in the first place. And as far as I know, nothing’s ever happened between you two.”

“Exactly,” you said quickly, throwing your hands up. “So what’s the point?”

“The point,” Olivia said, stepping closer and poking your shoulder, “is that you’re jealous.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks were starting to burn. “I’m not jealous.”

“Really?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Because you literally just said, ‘he’s the one who’s dating Jade in the first place.’ That’s got ‘green-eyed monster’ written all over it.”

“That’s not—” you started, but Olivia cut you off.

“Y/N, come on,” she said, her tone softer now. “You’ve been acting weird ever since Jade showed up. You’re suddenly going out with Joshua, of all people, and now you’re watching Peter like a hawk every time he’s in the same room.”

“I’m not—” you tried again, but Olivia just kept going.

“And don’t even get me started on the way you probably looked at him during the concert,” she said, crossing her arms. “You might as well have had a flashing sign over your head that said, ‘I wish I was sitting next to him.’”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “You’re reading way too much into this.”

“Am I?” Olivia said, leaning closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty obvious. You like Peter. And whether you want to admit it or not, him hanging out with Jade is driving you nuts.”

You didn’t respond right away, staring at the floor as Olivia’s words sank in. Finally, you muttered, “It doesn’t matter. He’s with her. End of story.”

“Y/N,” Olivia said, exasperated. “You don’t get it, do you? He’s not with her. He’s using her.”

Your head snapped up, your eyes narrowing. “That’s a terrible thing to say. Peter’s not like that.”

“Oh, please,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes. “Peter’s a lot of things, but subtle isn’t one of them. He’s parading Jade around because he’s trying to get a reaction out of you.”

“That’s insane,” you said, shaking your head. “Why would he—”

“Because he likes you, you idiot!” Olivia practically shouted, throwing her hands up. “And he doesn’t know how to deal with it because you’ve been so busy convincing yourself he doesn’t!”

You stared at her, stunned into silence. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.

Finally, you found your voice. “If that’s true,” you said quietly, “then why hasn’t he said anything?”

Olivia sighed, her expression softening. “Because he’s Peter. He’s not going to lay it all out there unless he’s sure it’s what you want too.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. Deep down, a small part of you wondered if Olivia was right—if Peter’s actions, his lingering looks, and his sudden attention to Jade were all because of you. But another part of you was too afraid to believe it.

“Well?” Olivia said, raising an eyebrow. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia smirked, leaning back against the counter. “Well, you’d better figure it out. Because if you don’t, someone else is going to make the first move. And I don’t think you’ll like how that turns out.”

You swallowed hard, her words echoing in your mind as you stared out the window, unsure of what your next step should be.

---

The party at Baron Edward’s estate was in full swing, and you found yourself clinging to the edge of the crowd, sipping something sparkling and pretending to look interested in the artwork on the walls. Joshua was mingling effortlessly, charming guests with his smooth conversation and quick wit. Olivia had disappeared somewhere, likely causing her usual brand of chaos.

Across the room, Peter was standing near Jade, the two of them engaged in polite conversation with a small group. He looked as polished as ever, his tailored suit sharp against the warm glow of the chandeliers. You noticed his hand resting lightly on the back of Jade’s chair, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack, it sent a pang through your chest.

Joshua reappeared at your side, offering you a warm smile. "What do you say, Y/N? Care to join me for a dance?"

You felt your cheeks heat up instantly, your fingers tightening on the glass of champagne you’d been nursing for the past half hour. "Oh, um… I don’t really think I’m—"

He gave you an easy smile, his hand already half-extended. "You’ll be fine. I promise not to step on your toes."

You shook your head quickly, the thought of dozens of pairs of eyes on you making your chest tighten. "I think I’ll sit this one out. Sorry."

Joshua tilted his head slightly, studying you for a moment before nodding. "No need to apologize. Maybe next time." He glanced around and spotted Olivia chatting with a group near the drinks table. "Mind if I steal your friend, then?"

"Not at all," you said quickly, grateful he didn’t press the issue.

Joshua smiled, gave you a small nod, and headed off toward Olivia, who didn’t hesitate to accept his offer. You watched as they made their way to the dance floor, Olivia laughing at something Joshua said as he spun her gracefully into the music.

"You could’ve at least warned him you were a terrible dancer."

The low, familiar voice sent a shiver down your spine. You turned to find Peter standing beside you, one hand tucked casually in the pocket of his perfectly tailored suit. His gaze was sharp but amused, his lips curved in a faint smile.

"I didn’t think it was necessary," you muttered, looking down at your glass.

Peter tilted his head, his tone light. "And here I thought you were just trying to keep him from getting too attached."

Your head shot up, your eyes narrowing. "That’s not—"

He chuckled softly, cutting you off. "Relax, Y/N. I’m joking. Though I have to say, I’m a little surprised. You used to love dancing when we were younger."

You frowned, crossing your arms. "That was different. We were kids, and no one was paying attention back then."

Peter’s smile deepened, his gaze unwavering. "And now?"

"Now," you said quickly, "it’s just… not my thing."

"Hmm," he mused, his tone carrying that infuriating mix of charm and challenge. "I don’t believe you."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your growing discomfort. "Well, you don’t have to."

Peter didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he extended a hand toward you, his eyes meeting yours with quiet intensity. "Dance with me."

"What?" you blurted, your heart skipping a beat.

"You heard me," he said, his voice steady. "Dance with me. Just one song."

"I—I can’t," you stammered, glancing around nervously. "Not here."

Peter’s smile shifted, softer now but no less insistent. Without waiting for an answer, he took your glass from your hand, setting it down on a nearby table, and offered his arm. "Then let’s find somewhere quieter."

You hesitated, glancing toward the dance floor where Olivia and Joshua were spinning effortlessly among the other couples. "Peter, I don’t think—"

"Trust me," he interrupted gently.

Before you could protest, he guided you out of the main ballroom and into a dimly lit hallway just off to the side. The music followed faintly, softer now, the sounds of laughter and conversation fading into the background.

Peter stopped near a small alcove, his hand still lightly resting on your arm. "Better?"

You nodded, though your heart was still racing. "A little."

"Good," he said, stepping closer. He took your hand in his, his touch warm and steady. "Now, let’s try this again."

"Peter, I’m going to embarrass myself," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"You won’t," he said firmly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "It’s just us, Y/N. No one’s watching."

You hesitated, but the way he looked at you—patient, encouraging, and far too confident—made it impossible to say no.

"Okay," you murmured, your voice so soft you weren’t sure he even heard you.

Peter smiled, a genuine one this time, and placed your other hand lightly on his shoulder. His hand settled on your waist, the touch sending a strange flutter through your chest.

"See?" he said, his voice low as he guided you into a slow, swaying rhythm. "Nothing to it."

"I feel ridiculous," you admitted, glancing at your feet to make sure you weren’t stepping on him.

"Don’t," Peter said softly. "You’re doing fine."

You glanced up at him, his face closer than you’d realized. His expression was calm, but his eyes… there was something in them you couldn’t quite name.

The faint strains of the orchestra drifted through the hallway, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away.

"You’re not bad at this," Peter said after a while, his tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "You’re a very biased judge."

"Maybe," he admitted, his lips twitching into a smirk. "But I’m right, aren’t I?"

You didn’t answer, your gaze dropping to his collar instead. His tie was slightly loosened, just enough to make him look effortlessly disheveled in a way that only Peter could manage.

"Y/N," he said softly, drawing your attention back to his face. His smile had faded, replaced by something quieter, more serious.

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

He hesitated, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. "Why do you let him distract you?"

"Who?" you asked, confused.

"Joshua," Peter said simply, his tone calm but pointed. "You’re not interested in him."

You froze, your cheeks burning. "That’s not—"

"You don’t have to explain," he interrupted, his voice low. "I just… I don’t understand why you’re pretending."

Your chest tightened, his words cutting far closer to the truth than you wanted to admit. "I’m not pretending."

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. "You don’t have to, Y/N. Not with me."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the distant sound of the music filling the silence.

"I…" you started, but the words wouldn’t come.

Peter leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Think about it, Y/N. That’s all I’m asking."

You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as his words settled in the air between you. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment was gone.

Peter stepped back, his hand slipping from your waist. "Thank you for the dance."

You nodded mutely, watching as he turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the hall.

Your heart was still racing, and as the music swelled again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had just changed.

---

A few days after the party you were laying on Olivia’s couch, a box of tissues in your lap and a cool rag on your forehead.

“Oh, sweetie.” Olivia cooed, taking the rag away from you.

“’M not a baby,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself as Olivia dabbed your forehead with the cool rag.

“I know,” she teased, sitting back on the edge of the coffee table. “But you’re my favorite patient, so deal with it.” You gave her a weak glare, which she met with a smirk. “Honestly, Y/N, you’re lucky I love you. I’ve got work in a bit, and instead of doing literally anything else, I’m here playing Florence Nightingale.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “I’ll leave when you do. I’ll get a cab back to my place.”

Olivia frowned, crossing her arms. “You’re really going to haul yourself into a cab like this? You can just stay here.”

You shook your head, coughing lightly into a tissue. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want to be in your way.”

“Like you could ever be in my way,” Olivia scoffed, standing and smoothing her blouse. “Alright, if you insist on being stubborn, I’ll drop you at the cab stand on my way out.”

She disappeared down the hall to finish getting ready, and you closed your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the TV in the background instead of the pounding in your head.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. You heard Olivia’s muffled footsteps and then the sound of the door opening.

“Oh, Peter,” Olivia said, her voice laced with mild surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Peter replied smoothly. “Thought I’d check in.”

“Well, I’m heading to work in a minute,” Olivia said, her voice casual. “But Y/N’s in the living room. She’s not feeling great, though, so don’t expect sparkling conversation.”

There was a pause, and then you heard Peter’s footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes just as he entered the room, his expression softening when he saw you curled up on the couch.

“You look dreadful,” he said, his tone gentle but teasing.

“Thanks,” you croaked, giving him a weak smile.

He chuckled, crouching down so you were eye level. “What’s the plan? Olivia mentioned a cab.”

You nodded. “When she leaves, I’ll call one and head home.”

Peter frowned slightly, standing and crossing his arms. “No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” you said, sitting up a little.

“You’re not well,” he said firmly. “I’ll take you home.”

“Peter, that’s not necessary—”

“It is,” he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I don’t trust you to actually rest if you’re left to your own devices. Come on, let’s get you sorted.”

Olivia reappeared, shrugging into her coat and raising an eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” Peter said, offering you a hand. “I’m taking her home.”

You hesitated, glancing between them, but Olivia grinned. “Well, aren’t you sweet? Take good care of her, Peter. She’s a nightmare when she’s sick.”

“Noted,” Peter replied, helping you stand. “Let’s go, Y/N.”

---

The drive to your apartment was quiet. You leaned against the cool window, trying to ignore how warm your cheeks felt—not just from the fever, but from Peter’s presence.

When you reached your building, Peter insisted on helping you out of the car and up the stairs, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walked.

“You really don’t have to—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting you off as he opened your apartment door with the spare key Olivia had borrowed and returned. “Let me help. You’re not going to convince me otherwise.”

Once inside, he guided you to the couch, setting your blanket over you and grabbing a pillow to tuck behind your head.

“Comfy?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, already feeling more at ease. “Thank you.”

Peter smiled faintly. “Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t even started making tea.”

“You’re staying?” you asked, your eyes widening slightly.

“Of course,” he said lightly, already heading toward the kitchen. “Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over.”

“Peter, I can take care of myself,” you called after him, though the argument sounded weak even to your own ears.

“I’m sure you can,” he replied, his voice teasing. “But humor me.”

You sighed, leaning back into the cushions. As much as you hated to admit it, having him there was… comforting.

“Do you even know where I keep the tea?” you called, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“I’m resourceful,” he shot back, and you could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes, letting the quiet sounds of him moving around your kitchen fill the air.

Peter returned from the kitchen a few minutes later, carrying a mug of tea. He crouched beside the couch, offering it to you with a soft smile. “Here. Drink this.”

You blinked at him, your fingers curling around the warm mug. “You really didn’t have to.”

He leaned an arm on the edge of the couch, his face a bit closer now. “I know. But I wanted to.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond, so you took a small sip of the tea instead. The warmth spread through your chest, soothing in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Good?” he asked, watching you intently.

You nodded, your voice soft. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled, his eyes flickering to your hair. Without saying anything, he reached up, brushing a stray strand away from your face. The motion was so casual, yet it sent a flutter through your chest.

“You’re burning up,” Peter said quietly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pressed it lightly against your forehead. “When’s the last time you took anything for the fever?”

You squirmed under his touch, your cheeks growing warmer—not from the fever, you were sure. “Uh… this morning, I think?”

Peter frowned slightly, standing up and moving toward the kitchen again. “Stay put. I’ll grab something for you.”

You watched him go, your heart thumping unreasonably loud in your chest. He was being nice—nicer than he needed to be—but you chalked it up to Peter just being… Peter. Charming. Polished. Practically perfect. And completely out of your league.

He returned a minute later with a small glass of water and some medicine, handing both to you while placing the mug on the coffee table. “Take these.”

You hesitated but followed his instructions, swallowing the pills quickly and handing the glass back. He set it on the side table before sitting on the edge of the coffee table again, his gaze never leaving your face.

“Better?” he asked.

“Not yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I will be. Thanks for… you know. Helping.”

Peter tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I’d hardly call this helping. It’s just making sure you’re not miserable on your own.”

You managed a small smile, sinking further into the couch. “Still. Thank you.”

He didn’t reply immediately, his gaze softening. He reached out again, his hand brushing lightly over your forehead as if checking your temperature once more. “You should try to sleep,” he murmured, his tone unusually gentle. “I’ll stay here.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you mumbled, already feeling your eyelids grow heavy.

“I know,” he said softly. “But I want to.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, letting your head rest against the pillow. Peter adjusted the blanket around your shoulders, his movements careful and deliberate.

Just as you began to drift off, you felt something—a feather-light brush against your forehead. Too tired to open your eyes, you assumed it was nothing, just a fever-dream detail slipping through.

But Peter sat back quietly, his expression unreadable as he watched you settle deeper into sleep. His hand rested on the edge of the couch for a moment longer before he stood, adjusting the light in the room to something softer.

For now, he would wait.

---

When you woke, you weren’t on the couch anymore. Instead, you were tucked into your bed, your blanket pulled up to your shoulders. The soft hum of an old humidifier filled the room, a faint stream of vapor rising from its spout.

You blinked groggily, your gaze settling on the chair near your bed. Peter was there, his jacket draped over the back of the chair and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. He had a book open in his lap but wasn’t reading; his eyes were fixed on you.

“You’re awake,” he said softly, closing the book and setting it aside. “How do you feel?”

“Better,” you mumbled, still half-asleep. “Did you…?”

“Carry you to bed?” he finished, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You were out cold, Y/N. I didn’t think you’d make it to the bed.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down at the blanket. “You didn’t have to.”

Peter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You said that already. And I’m still ignoring it.”

You fiddled with the edge of the blanket, unsure of what to say. “Thanks,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice low. “I wanted to.”

You glanced at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way his eyes softened when they met yours. He reached over, brushing a hand lightly across your forehead. His touch was warm, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“Your fever’s down,” he murmured. “That’s good.”

You nodded, too shy to meet his gaze for long. “How long have you been here?”

“Long enough,” he said lightly, leaning back in the chair. “Olivia called to check in. I told her you were still alive.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh. “She’ll probably tell everyone I’m being dramatic.”

“She might,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “But I’ll set the record straight. Tell them you were very brave.”

“Stop,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up to your face to hide your smile.

Peter chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Fine. I’ll spare you the teasing. For now.”

You peeked over the blanket, catching his grin. “I didn’t know you were such a good nurse.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he said smoothly, standing up and stretching. “Do you need anything? More water? Tea?”

“No, I’m okay,” you said quickly, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

Peter crossed his arms, studying you for a moment. Then, without a word, he stepped closer, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. His hand brushed yours briefly, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Peter didn’t move right away. His hand rested lightly on the edge of the bed, and you could feel the weight of his presence. Finally, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

“Try to rest,” he said, his tone gentler than before. “I’ll be in the other room if you need me.”

“Wait,” you blurted, surprising yourself. When he turned back to you, eyebrows raised, you faltered. “I mean… you don’t have to stay in the other room. If you’re tired or something, you can… I don’t know, sit here? If you want?”

Peter’s lips twitched into a small smile, his gaze softening. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you said quickly, then immediately looked down, your cheeks burning. “I just… I don’t mind.”

He hesitated for only a moment before pulling the chair closer to the bed. “Alright,” he said simply, settling back into it. “If you insist.”

You relaxed a little, letting your eyes close again. Peter didn’t say anything else, and for a while, the only sounds in the room were the quiet hum of the humidifier and the soft rustle of pages as he reopened his book.

Before you drifted off, you felt the edge of the blanket shift slightly, as though he were tucking it in more securely. It was such a small gesture, but it left your heart fluttering in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

---

As you cleaned up your spreadsheet a knock on your office door drew your attention away from your computer.

“Someone’s here to see you. A… Peter?” Alyssa said.

You rolled your chair back a little before standing up, “Peter?” You repeated. “Oh—uh, yeah, send him in.”

Alyssa smiled and went back to the reception desk. You sat back down just as Peter knocked a few times on your open door before entering, a brown paper bag in his hand.

“Good afternoon,” he said smoothly, stepping inside like he owned the place. “Thought I’d stop by and see how my favorite accountant was doing.”

You blinked, immediately flustered. “Peter, what are you doing here?”

He held up the bag with a small smile. “I remembered you’re terrible about taking lunch breaks, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”

Your cheeks warmed as you glanced at the bag. “You didn’t have to do that. I was going to grab something later.”

“Were you, though?” Peter teased, pulling up a chair without asking. “Or were you planning to survive on coffee and determination?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t wrong. “Okay, fine. But really, you didn’t need to go out of your way.”

“It wasn’t out of my way,” he replied, leaning back casually. “Besides, I wanted to.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Peter always had this way of saying things that left you completely off balance. “Well… thanks,” you mumbled, reaching for the bag.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s just a sandwich and some soup, but I figured it’d hold you over.”

You opened the bag, the warm aroma of tomato soup wafting out. “This is… really nice of you.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Peter said with a faint smirk. “I can be nice.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” you replied quickly, glancing up at him. “It’s just… unexpected.”

Peter tilted his head, studying you with an unreadable expression. “I like surprising you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, but before you could respond, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “So, how’s work?”

You shrugged, grateful for the change in topic. “Same as always. Spreadsheets, numbers, more spreadsheets.”

“Thrilling,” Peter teased, though his tone held genuine interest. “And Joshua? Has he been stopping by with sandwiches too?”

You froze, your spoon hovering over the soup container. “What? No. Why would he?”

Peter shrugged, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place. “Just curious. Thought maybe he was trying to impress you.”

“Well, he’s not,” you said quickly, though your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “We’ve only gone out a couple of times. It’s not that serious.”

“Good to know,” Peter said smoothly, sitting back in his chair.

You frowned, glancing at him. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t,” he said lightly, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just making conversation.”

You hesitated, searching his expression for some kind of clue, but he was impossible to read. “Okay,” you said finally, turning your attention back to your soup.

Peter watched you for a moment longer before standing. “I’ll let you get back to it. But if you need another delivery, you know where to find me.”

You glanced up, surprised by the sudden shift. “You’re leaving already?”

He smiled faintly. “For now. But I’ll see you soon.”

Before you could respond, he was already heading for the door. You stared after him, the warmth of his gesture lingering even as his presence left the room.

Peter paused in the doorway, glancing back over his shoulder. “Don’t skip lunch tomorrow, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” you promised, though your voice was softer than you intended.

His smile widened slightly, and then he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the small, unexpected weight of his visit.

---

The Apollo Theatre foyer buzzed with excited chatter as you stood with Joshua, clutching your program and trying not to look overwhelmed. Olivia spotted you almost instantly, weaving through the crowd with her signature enthusiasm.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, wrapping you in a quick hug before turning to Joshua. “And look who’s with you. Hey Joshua. Ready for the show?”

Joshua smiled warmly, shaking her hand. “Always. How could I pass up an evening at the theatre?”

Olivia turned back to you, grinning. “Y/N, are you ready for this? I’ve heard Wicked is incredible. And you know how I feel about The Wizard of Oz.”

You laughed softly. “You’ve only mentioned it a thousand times.”

Before Olivia could retort, another familiar voice joined the conversation. “Quite the reunion, isn’t it?”

Your head snapped toward the source. Peter stood a few feet away, looking effortlessly composed as always. Beside him, Jade smiled politely, her golden hair catching the soft light of the foyer.

Joshua straightened, his expression slipping into something cooler. “Peter. Jade. Fancy seeing you here.”

Peter’s smile didn’t waver as he glanced at you. “Is it? I thought this was the hottest ticket in town. Wouldn’t miss it.”

Olivia’s eyes darted between the two men, her smirk growing. “Wow, all four of us together. How cozy.”

“Five,” Jade corrected with a light laugh. “Don’t forget me.”

“Right, of course,” Olivia said, her tone borderline teasing.

Joshua’s hand brushed lightly against your back. “Shall we find our seats, Y/N? I think intermission mingling will suffice for this particular group.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Actually, you’re all in our row. They’ve just started seating.”

Your heart sank slightly as Peter gestured toward the usher holding the door open. Of course you’d all end up sitting together—it was just your luck.

Joshua’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, but he maintained his composure. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Peter stepped forward, extending an arm toward you. “Shall we?”

Joshua opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Olivia interjected, her tone bright and amused. “Go ahead, Y/N. Peter knows the way better than any of us.”

You shot Olivia a quick glare, but Peter was already waiting, his arm still offered. Hesitantly, you placed your hand on his sleeve, letting him guide you toward the theatre. Joshua followed close behind, his expression unreadable.

---

The row was, unsurprisingly, a bit of a squeeze. Olivia sat on the far end, with Joshua next to her. You were in the middle, flanked by Peter on your left and Jade on his other side.

“This is… cozy,” Olivia quipped as everyone settled into their seats.

“Intimate, even,” Peter added smoothly, his gaze sliding to you. “How are you finding your evening so far, Y/N?”

“It’s nice,” you said quickly, fidgeting with your program. “I’m excited for the show.”

“As you should be,” Peter replied, leaning closer. “It’s a masterpiece. Though, I’ll admit, some moments can be quite… emotional.”

“Good thing I brought tissues,” Olivia teased from the other end.

Joshua cleared his throat, drawing your attention. “Are you familiar with the music, Y/N? I could hum a few bars if you need a preview.”

You laughed softly, trying to ease the growing tension. “I think I’ll manage, thanks.”

Peter’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Careful, Joshua. You wouldn’t want to spoil the magic.”

Jade glanced between the two men, her smile polite but strained. “Isn’t it wonderful how theatre brings everyone together?”

“Truly,” Peter said, his tone light but sharp enough to earn a glance from Joshua.

Before the exchange could escalate, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra began its overture. You turned your attention to the stage, grateful for the distraction.

---

Throughout the performance, you couldn’t help but feel hyper-aware of Peter. His arm rested lightly on the shared armrest, close enough that your elbows brushed once or twice. Each time, you shifted slightly, but he didn’t seem to notice—or perhaps he did and simply didn’t care.

Joshua, meanwhile, leaned in occasionally to whisper something about the show. His commentary was kind and thoughtful, but your responses were distracted, your focus tugged toward the man on your other side.

When intermission arrived, Olivia stood immediately. “Drinks, anyone? I could use something fizzy.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jade said quickly, standing and smoothing her dress.

Joshua glanced at you. “Want to stretch your legs, Y/N?”

Before you could answer, Peter turned toward you, his expression casual but intent. “Or we could stay and chat. The lobby will be packed.”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he managed a smile. “It’s up to you.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of both their gazes. “I think I’ll stay,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joshua nodded stiffly. “Alright. I’ll grab you a drink, then.”

As he and the others filed out, Peter leaned back in his seat, his posture relaxed. “Interesting choice.”

You turned toward him, fidgeting slightly with the program in your lap. “What is?”

“Staying behind,” he said lightly, his gaze steady but unintrusive. “I thought you might want a break from all this.” He gestured toward the crowded theatre.

You shrugged, unsure how to respond. “I don’t mind staying. It’s quieter now.”

Peter’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. Quieter can be nice sometimes.”

You nodded, clutching the program tighter. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy in a way that made your chest feel tight.

“You’re enjoying the show, I hope?” Peter asked after a moment, his tone light.

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” you said quickly, grateful for the neutral topic. “The cast is incredible.”

“It’s a masterpiece,” Peter agreed. “I remember the first time I saw it. Defying Gravity gave me chills.”

You smiled faintly. “It’s definitely the kind of show that sticks with you.”

He studied you for a moment, then leaned a bit closer, resting his arm on the shared armrest. “You know, I’ve always admired your taste in music.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”

Peter shrugged casually, though there was a glimmer of something deeper in his eyes. “You’ve got a good ear. You appreciate the details most people miss.”

Your cheeks grew warm under his gaze. “I don’t know about that. I just… like what I like.”

“That’s what makes it genuine,” he said simply. “You don’t pretend to like things just because it’s expected. It’s refreshing.”

You glanced down, fiddling with the corner of the program. “I guess I’ve never thought about it that way.”

He chuckled softly, his voice warm. “That’s what makes it true.”

You dared to look up at him again, finding his expression unusually soft. “You’re being… really nice today.”

“Am I not usually nice?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you are,” you said quickly, stumbling over your words. “It’s just… different.”

Peter tilted his head, his smile growing. “Maybe I’m just trying to put you at ease. You always seem a little… on edge around me.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction.

“You are,” he countered gently. “But I’m glad you stayed. It’s nice talking like this.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Finally, you muttered, “Yeah, it is.”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he leaned back into his seat, his hand resting on the armrest just a little closer to yours. “Do you remember the first play we went to? At my father’s estate? You must’ve been—what? Eleven? Twelve?”

You smiled faintly at the memory. “It was A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Olivia made me go with her.”

Peter chuckled. “And you spent the entire first act whispering that you didn’t understand why people thought Shakespeare was funny.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please don’t remind me. I was such a pain back then.”

“You weren’t,” he said softly, his tone sincere. “You were curious. That’s what made it endearing.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, your voice muffled. “Endearing?”

“Very,” he said with a small grin.

Before you could respond, the others began filtering back into the row. Joshua handed you a drink with a polite smile, his eyes flicking briefly to Peter. “Hope I got the right one.”

“Perfect,” you said quickly, taking the glass and shifting slightly in your seat.

Peter leaned back, his expression unreadable, but his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer before he turned his attention to the stage.

As the lights dimmed and the show resumed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Peter’s presence beside you. It was magnetic, grounding in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

And as the music swelled, you found yourself wondering if staying behind had been the right choice—or if it had only complicated things even more.

---

It was nerve-wracking going on dates with Joshua, but meeting his parents? That felt like a completely different level of stress. Lord Beckett’s estate was sprawling, the kind of place you’d only seen in magazines, and the garden party looked like something out of a period drama.

“Relax,” Joshua said, offering you his arm as you both approached the grand lawn. “They’re going to love you. And even if they don’t, they’re far too proper to say anything about it.”

“That’s… oddly comforting,” you muttered, glancing nervously at the clusters of guests sipping champagne and chatting under the shade of elegant white umbrellas.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his tone warm. “Just smile and let me do the talking.”

You managed a small nod, though your stomach twisted with nerves.

Joshua led you toward a group near the center of the lawn, where Lord Beckett stood in a sharp navy suit, his posture as upright as his title implied. His wife, Lady Beckett, was beside him, her features poised and polite.

“Ah, Joshua,” Lord Beckett said, his deep voice carrying over the hum of conversation. His sharp eyes flicked to you. “And this must be… Y/N, is it?”

“Yes, sir,” you said softly, offering a polite smile.

“Welcome,” Lady Beckett said, her tone more cordial than warm. “It’s lovely to meet you. Joshua’s spoken highly of you.”

You blinked, glancing at Joshua, who grinned. “What can I say? She’s easy to talk about.”

Lady Beckett’s smile widened just a fraction. “How charming.”

Before the conversation could go much further, another familiar voice cut in.

“Lord Beckett,” Peter said smoothly, stepping into the group with Jade on his arm. “Always a pleasure.”

Your breath caught, and you instinctively looked away, focusing intently on the glass in your hand.

“Peter Lyman,” Lord Beckett greeted, his tone polite but measured. “You’ve been making quite the rounds lately.”

Peter chuckled. “What can I say? It’s hard to resist a good garden party.” His gaze flicked to you briefly, his smile unwavering. “Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

Jade added with a light laugh, “it’s practically a reunion, isn’t it? How lovely.”

Joshua’s arm tensed slightly under your hand, but he kept his tone pleasant. “Peter, Jade. Enjoying the season?”

“Absolutely,” Peter replied, his tone smooth as silk. “And you? Busy keeping Y/N entertained, I assume?”

Joshua’s smile tightened just enough for you to notice. “She’s been wonderful company. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You nodded quickly, feeling the weight of everyone’s gaze. “Yes. Very.”

Peter’s lips quirked, his expression unreadable. “Good to hear.”

Jade broke the tension with a bright laugh, linking her arm with Peter’s. “Peter’s always said these events are better with good company. Haven’t you, darling?”

“Something like that,” Peter said lightly, though his eyes flicked back to you briefly.

“Shall we, Y/N?” Joshua asked suddenly, his tone smooth but insistent. “I’d love to show you the south gardens. They’re a bit quieter.”

You nodded, eager for an escape. “Of course.”

As Joshua guided you away, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder. Peter’s gaze was still on you, his expression calm but intent, as if he was waiting for something you weren’t sure you could give.

“Don’t let him get to you,” Joshua said quietly as you walked, his voice low but firm.

“What?” you asked, startled.

“Lyman,” Joshua clarified, glancing at you. “He likes to play games. Don’t let him pull you into one.”

You frowned, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t think he—”

“He does,” Joshua interrupted gently but firmly. “Trust me.”

You didn’t answer, but your thoughts were a storm of doubt and confusion as you followed Joshua toward the gardens.

---

The south gardens were quieter, with fewer guests and a small fountain bubbling in the center. Joshua stopped beside it, turning to face you fully.

“You’re tense,” he said softly.

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, though your voice wavered.

Joshua studied you for a moment, his expression softening. “Y/N… if this is too much, you don’t have to stay.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I just—this isn’t really my scene, you know? But I’ll manage.”

He nodded, his lips curving into a faint smile. “I know it’s not easy. But you’re handling it well.”

“Thanks,” you said, though your thoughts were still elsewhere.

Joshua’s gaze flicked past you for a moment, and his expression shifted, growing cooler. You turned to see Peter approaching, his stride measured and confident.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Peter said smoothly, stopping a few paces away.

“Actually—” Joshua started, but Peter cut him off.

“Y/N,” Peter said, his tone softer as his gaze settled on you. “Do you have a moment?”

Joshua’s jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. “We were just about to head back, actually.”

Peter ignored him, his eyes still on you. “Just a moment, Y/N. That’s all I need.”

You hesitated, glancing between them. Joshua’s expression was calm but tense, while Peter’s was unreadable, his usual charm tempered by something more serious.

“Go ahead,” Joshua said finally, his voice tight. “I’ll wait here.”

You nodded slowly, stepping toward Peter. “What is it?”

Peter waited until you were out of earshot before speaking, his voice low. “You don’t have to stay with him, you know.”

“What?” you asked, frowning.

“I mean it,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “If you’re not happy, you don’t have to keep pretending.”

“I’m not pretending,” you said quickly, though your voice sounded unconvincing even to your own ears.

Peter’s eyes searched yours, his expression softening. “You are. And you’re not very good at it.”

Your chest tightened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to argue.

“I know this is all… complicated,” Peter continued, his voice gentler now. “But I can’t stand watching you with him, knowing you’re not where you want to be.”

“Peter,” you started, but he shook his head.

“Just think about it, Y/N,” he said quietly. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Before you could respond, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning.

---

Later, while you sipped your glass of champagne and held a small plate with a scone, Joshua leaned down, his voice low and warm. “I’m going to say hello to the Westford’s,” he said, pressing a light kiss to your cheek before walking away.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. It felt like such a public display, something you weren’t used to, especially with so many watchful eyes at a gathering like this.

Unfortunately, someone had noticed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Peter standing with Jade near the edge of the garden. His expression was calm, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. And then, with deliberate ease, Peter turned toward Jade, leaning down to whisper something in her ear.

Jade laughed softly, tilting her head up to him.

And then he kissed her.

It wasn’t a quick, polite kiss, either. It was slow, deliberate—enough to catch the attention of more than a few nearby guests.

Your stomach twisted as you froze, your fingers tightening around your glass. For a moment, you considered looking away, but your gaze betrayed you, snapping back to Peter.

And that’s when he looked at you.

Even as he kissed Jade, his eyes met yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that sent a chill down your spine. It wasn’t a glance; it was deliberate, calculated.

You felt your chest tighten, heat rising to your face. Before you could process what had just happened, you set your plate and glass down on a nearby table and turned on your heel, heading toward the side of the lawn.

You found Joshua near the Westford’s, laughing at something Lord Westford had said. He glanced up as you approached, his expression softening. “Y/N, are you alright?”

“I’m not feeling well,” you said quickly, your voice tight. “I think I’m going to head out.”

Joshua frowned, stepping closer. “What’s wrong? Do you want me to call for a car?”

“No, it’s fine,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’ll grab a cab. I just need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed, his brow furrowing.

“I’m sure,” you said, your tone firmer this time. “Thank you for the invitation. It was… lovely.”

Joshua hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. Just let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“I will,” you promised, already turning to leave.

You made your way out of the estate, barely registering the elegant gardens or the soft chatter of the guests. Your chest felt tight, and your thoughts were a jumbled mess as you flagged down a cab and climbed inside.

---

By the time you arrived at Olivia’s apartment, your head was spinning. You fumbled with the spare key she’d given you, finally unlocking the door and stepping inside.

“Y/N?” Olivia called from the couch, her voice muffled by the blanket draped over her. She sat up, a bowl of popcorn in her lap. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at Lord Beckett’s thing.”

You dropped your purse on the nearest chair, your hands trembling slightly. “I was. I just… I couldn’t stay.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed as she set the popcorn aside and stood, crossing the room in a few quick strides. “Okay, spill. What happened?”

You hesitated, your throat tightening. “Peter happened,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Olivia blinked, then sighed, crossing her arms. “What did he do this time?”

You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. “He kissed Jade. Right in front of everyone. And then he… he looked at me.”

“What?” Olivia asked, her tone sharp. She sat down beside you, her hand resting on your arm. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, unable to keep back your sobs any longer. “I don’t know what he’s trying to do, Liv. One minute he’s nice, the next he’s… playing games. I can’t keep up.”

Olivia frowned, scooting closer and pulling you into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

You leaned into her, your face pressed against her shoulder. “It’s just… he said something to me before he kissed her.”

She pulled back slightly, her hands still on your arms. “What did he say?”

Your voice wavered as you tried to explain. “He said… he couldn’t stand seeing me with Joshua. That I wasn’t where I wanted to be. And then—then he just… walked away. And not even ten minutes later, he’s kissing Jade like it’s nothing.”

Olivia exhaled sharply, pulling you back into her arms. “Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry. That’s so… Ugh, I don’t even know what to say.”

You sniffled, your hands clutching the fabric of her sweater. “Why would he say something like that if he didn’t mean it? And then do the exact opposite? It’s like he’s trying to mess with me.”

She rubbed your back gently, her voice soft. “I know it feels like that. But right now, you don’t need to make sense of it. You’ve had a hell of a day. Let’s just… focus on getting you through this moment, okay?”

You nodded weakly, wiping at your eyes. “I feel so stupid, Liv. I shouldn’t even care, but I do. I always have.”

“You’re not stupid,” Olivia said firmly, pulling back enough to look you in the eye. “You’ve had feelings for him forever. This isn’t something you can just turn off.”

You didn’t respond, your chest still tight as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Alright,” Olivia said after a moment, her tone more practical. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re staying here tonight. I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll find something mindless to watch on TV. No more thinking about Peter, Jade, or Joshua. Deal?”

You hesitated, but the thought of not dealing with any of it, even for a little while, was too tempting to resist. “Deal.”

“Good,” Olivia said, standing and giving you a small smile. “Stay put. I’ll grab the tea.”

As she headed to the kitchen, you curled up on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around you. Your thoughts were still spinning, but Olivia’s presence was grounding, her no-nonsense approach exactly what you needed.

When she returned with two steaming mugs, she set one down in front of you and plopped onto the couch with the other. “Alright, your choice: rom-coms or reality TV?”

You hesitated, then managed a small smile. “Rom-coms. Something ridiculous.”

Olivia grinned, grabbing the remote. “You’ve got it.”

As the opening credits of some over-the-top romantic comedy filled the screen, you leaned back into the cushions, trying to let the chaos of the day fade into the background. Olivia reached over, giving your hand a quick squeeze before settling in beside you.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “Whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

You nodded, your voice too shaky to respond. For now, you let yourself focus on the warmth of the tea in your hands and the comfort of Olivia’s shoulder against yours. It wasn’t a solution, but it was enough for the moment.

⁠♡ part 2 ♡

[sandmunch]

Namgyu jealousy head canons

warnings: none i think

this isn’t proofread

(this is my first time writing something like this so if it’s bad please tell me)

——————————————

-I feel like he isn’t the type to throw temper tantrums when’s he’s jealous, instead his jaw would clench subtly, his eyes would narrow, and he suddenly stops teasing you and would become very quiet.

-He would be side eyeing the person who you are talking to and keeping his arm wrapped tightly around your waist.

-When the person making him jealous isn’t around, he would make snarky and backhanded comments about them.

-If someone praises/flirts with you (thanos) he will mutter under his breath about how you don’t need his petty compliments, but of course he would never say anything to thanos face, always making sure he says it just loud enough for you to hear and no one else.

-Namgyu will push himself in the games to prove his worth to you, whether it’s showing off his strength or his ability to manipulate people to get what he wants. It’s his way of silently telling you that he’s the only one you need.

-During mingle he keeps you close, saying how he “doesn’t trust them” and “just wants to keep you safe” and if you end up being dragged off by someone else during mingle he will make a big deal out of it.

-When no one is paying attention, or it’s just the two of you, he will sulk replaying the situation that made him jealous and overthinking it, but i doubt you would ever realise that as he just stares off into space with a annoyed scowl on his face.

-He hates how vulnerable you make him feel but he can’t help but getting worked up when thanos flirts with you or you just get friendly with someone.

-If you confront him about his behaviour he will just scoff and deny it “seriously you think i’m jealous of them?” but his tone gives it all away.

-But he would eventually say “i just don’t want them taking advantage of you,” he voice dripping with concern.

——————————————-

Scene idea for the last 2 head cannons:

The game had ended for the day, and the tension in the air was strong. Players huddled in corners of the room, whispering alliances or simply trying to rest. Namgyu, however, sat stiffly against the wall, his eyes locked onto you across the room. You were chatting animatedly with another player—a man whose cocky grin only seemed to irritate Namgyu further.

When the conversation went on for too long, Namgyu suddenly stood and crossed the room, his footsteps heavy enough to make you notice. “Can we talk?” he said, not waiting for a response as he grabbed your arm and led you to a quieter corner by his bed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, annoyed but curious.

Namgyu’s jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. “what’s wrong is you acting like that guy is so funny and interesting.”

You blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Namgyu, gesturing to the man you’d been speaking with. “Do you really think he cares about you? Or anyone here? He’s just using you.”

You folded your arms, trying to hold your ground. “And how is that any different from what we’re all doing? You’re acting like you’re jealous or something.”

His reaction was immediate,he scoffed, looking away for a moment before meeting your gaze again. “Jealous? Of him?” He shook his head, but his voice softened, betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I just… don’t want you getting hurt. You don’t deserve to be someone’s pawn in here.”

The sincerity in his words caught you off guard. For all his gruffness, there was genuine concern beneath his anger.

“Thanks, I guess,” you said cautiously.

Namgyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his long dark hair. “Just… be careful, alright?” His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant, before he turned and walked away. Leaving you a little confused about why he cared so much.

——————————————-

guys idk if this was any good but i hope you like it

[catharticconsolation]

depollute me, pretty baby

carmen berzatto x reader (teen au!)

smut mdni

virgin!reader x virgin!carmy

notes/ warnings: first time sex, awkwardness, family gatherings, cluelessness

a prequel to an ask about aftercare after a first hook up, should be coming soon, hopefully with a bot! this is my first time writing smut, so be prepared!

𖦹𖦹𖦹

carmen doesn't know what to do when mikey stops him mid bonfire.

it's been a nice night, just you and carmy cuddled up in a chair while you watch the feeble attempt of a fire burn in the middle of the garden, sharing a warm bottle of beer between you that's been resting between the warmth of your thighs. it's dark, and natalie has passed out asleep in a deck chair, mikey and richie both sat far too close to the fire for the two of you to hear them.

it's normal. calm. everything that carmen thought his family wasn't.

so when he slips inside to retrieve a new drink from the kitchen fridge, he's wrapped up in this cozy little bubble of serenity, socked feet shuffling against the kitchen tile. he didn't even know that michael was in the kitchen until he felt a heavy hand clap his back and a little silver and blue, square packet being slid into his hand.

a condom.

a fucking condom.

"michael, what the fuck?..," he can't stop the curse from slipping out of his mouth, brows furrowing in embarrassed disgust, backing off and away from his older brother as he looks at the condom in his hand as if it's burning through his skin.

"c'mon carm, get your dick wet for once..," it sounds crude and wrong coming out of michael's mouth, and carmen just knows that the older man is thriving off of his discomfort. "we've seen you oggling at 'em all day, carm, don't be so frigid.."

....

carmen shows it to you when he gets outside, and he's so glad that your cheeks flush the exact same way that his did. so he's not a freak.

"wait.., wait, wait... your older brother wants us to fuck?..."

"well..., yeah, i guess..," it comes out as a hum as he settles in the rocking chair beside you, holding the bottle of beer up to your lips and letting you sip.

there's always been a casual sense of intimacy between you, something sweet and touchy and lovely. but it's never been sexual. just hand holding and kissing and arm linking and hair stroking. sex seems big. hell, even making out seems big.

and it still seems big as the two of you sit on carmy's bed, trying to ignore the countless dc posters on the walls, the spying eyes of batman and starfire as they watch the two of you awkwardly manoeuvre into this odd, tangled position.

...

it took ten minutes for carmen to get your bra off, but he still insisted that he do it himself. and now, you're curled up together on top of his bed, in nothing but granny panties and boxers, just nuzzling against each other like cats.

neither of you know what to do, and yet hands start wandering. but it's slow and careful and steady. nice. and loving.

carmen's face is in your neck when your hand finds it's way into his boxers, fingers tickling down, down, down, trying to map out the shape of his half hard cock from just touch alone.

"holy fuck, i'm touching a penis..."

"peach, shut up..."

"m'sorry, it just feels different than what i imagined..., squishier.."

"my dick's not squishy.."

"yeah, it is.."

...

getting the condom on is a hassle, and you're pretty sure it's ripped by the time that carmen gets his tip to line up with your hole, the right one this time, and it snags deliciously at the little puddle of slick that sits in the groove of your entrance.

carmy moves slow, and his face is pressed right up against your cheek, hands cradling the sides of your head as he pushes in, deep.

"you okay? is it hurting? am i hurting you? i can stop.."

"carmen, i'm fine, i'm okay.. it's nice.."

silent. so awkwardly silent. just heavy breathing and shuddered breaths. until carmen lets out this guttural whine, a moan, and both of you burst into laughter, your abdomen spasming nicely, making his cock twitch and hit your walls in just the right spot.

"oh, fuck, carm, i think i'm cumming..."

that's all it takes for carmen to burst, cumming the quickest he's ever cum, a lot quicker than when it's just him, his fist, and your instagram highlights. and when he pulls out, the condom is nearly full.

"fuckin' love you.., love you, love you, love you, love you, love you..."

before you know it, there's slobbery kisses being splattered all over your face, saliva and swollen lips covering every inch of skin as he flops down on top of you, spent and tired and so utterly proud of himself.

"carmen, you're sticky!.."

note: please send in more asks and requests for both bots and blurbs!

[wrystia]

cut that!! spencer agnew x fem!reader (fluff/est. relationship) wc: 932

   "welcome back, we are playing the classic clue game. but the catch is that one of us is the killer and must try to throw the others off from figuring out who it is, what they used, and what room they did it in..." you start off the video, fixing your bowtie and straightening your glasses, "i'm your host professor plum and welcome to my classroom."

  "that was so corny holy shit," angela immediately exclaims, laughing as she lowers her head off to the side, making sure she doesn't hit the table. 

 it was either the way her laugh echoes through the room or the absolute exhaustion that you were feeling from the busy week but you broke out in laughter as well. you look to your coworkers who are also holding back laughter and running their hands down their faces. “i’m never introducing a video ever again,” you shake your head against the games table, laugh subsiding.

  “i don’t know i thought it was pretty good.”

  “you’d think anything was good spencer, you literally tried to get me to say ‘and what room they did it in.. and by ‘it’, i mean… murder’. like that isn’t even cornier,” you look over at him, knee pressing against his under the table.

  he smiles widely at the comment, looking back at you with a similar getup to yours. however, his suit is less fashionable than yours (and considerably more green). his glasses even crooked in a way that makes you want to correct them like you would do any other way. fingers grappling at the temples and fixing them just before pulling him in a kiss. however, you restrain yourself, simply shaking your head.

  “that’s actually true, i saw them writing it with the pencil in the editor’s room,” shayne brings his fingers together, dressed like wadsworth, his usual smirk lining his lips. 

  you shake your head lightly, trying to take in the absolutely insanity that the room has become. none of you were running on enough sleep, filming nearly everyday that week and then finishing off today with a long shoot. you try to keep your composure, but the lack of sleep was getting to your head. “thank you for the info, wadsworth… but how about we start with our first guess, mrs. white. use your bob and roll that dice,” you set them in front of angela.

  the following rounds went rather easily, gathering information from the different sources. your paper was mostly filled out with information that would either screw you over or could win the game. looking up from your paper, you scan each of their faces, watching as shayne rolls again. “okay, so i’m in the kitchen. i’d like to make my guess. it was professor plum in the living room with the rope,” he looks over at you, grabbing the small envelope.

  making eye contact with shayne, you feel your lips curling into a smile of success. pursing your lips you hide it and wait for him to look at the cards. as he pulls them out he keeps his eye contact with you, only looking down when the cards are all out. much to your knowledge, he was completely wrong on the murderer part. “i called it initially! i got completely thrown off,” he stuffs them back into the envelope, tossing it back towards the game board.

  “well it seems we have had our first false accusation and our first power outage?” you joke, watching as one of the crew members turns off the lights.

  as shayne situates a knife under his armpit, you can see fake blood on the handle and the blade. looking back towards spencer, you give him a soft smile, grabbing his hand under the table. “if you were the murderer you wouldn’t kill me, right?” you whisper, leaning back into your seat, raising your eyebrows.

  “no promises babe, but i would kill you last, if that’s any consolation,” he whispers back, knowing all of this will be cut for time.

  his eyes roll within the darkness, something you can only tell by the whites of his eyes. however, his thumb also rubs along the back of your palm, a soothing motion that comes to a slow start as someone counts down to continuing. pulling your hand back to the table, you sit up. the light flickers on and there sits shayne slumped in his seat. the knife sticks out, as well as his tongue. 

  angela immediately starts to giggle as she notices his tongue sticking out. it absolutely breaks the immersion but you can’t help but join in in her laughter. shayne lifts his head up from his seat, furrowing his eyebrows. “really? i die and you all start laughing, feels especially cold because i know who killed me.”

  “hey, you tried to make accusations and the killer got scared, honestly i think that’s your own fault.”

  “wow, victim blaming babe, that’s real mature of you,” spencer casuals calls you out, accidentally using one of the many pet names you share. looking at him with wide eyes, you immediately look back at the camera, hand doing a striking motion at your neck.

  “cut that!! you’re ridiculous,” you shake your head, bringing your hands up to rest your face in.

  the crew and ‘talent’ already knew about your relationship, and you’ve done this plenty of times. but there’s still something so special about being able to be playful and still keep it between you. so, while you’d love to tell the world, you’ve said ‘cut that’ more times than you can count. 

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' BLINDSIDED ,,

|| pairings: dabi x gn!reader / touya todoroki x gn!reader

|| warnings: dabi is in rehab, i explain it later. reader is blind.

|| oh my god, achilles writing about someone who's not a hero birdman? crazy. dabi's gonna be ooc since idk how to write him

|| word count: 1.7k

|| Touya Todoroki, more commonly known as Dabi. In this small dabble/fic, the League of Villains were caught and detained. However, through the power of fanfiction, Dabi and the others were allowed to go through rehab (in the prison first), be let out in small time increments while being watched over by some hero or guard, and lastly they were put under a heroes care to make sure they don't.. Y'know, get worse. Dabi was put under, you guessed it, Endeavors care. And, lastly, if they so choosed, the former villains could become heroes, or at least sidekicks.

|| He absolutely hated it, what's worse was that he wasn't able to use his quirk for a year since he had a quirk anklet thing, he didn't know what it was called. Was he happy he wasn't in prison anymore? Yeah, of course. Did he act like it? Hell no. He hated Endeavor with a burning passion, and he stole his credit card more times than he can count with the help of Shoto and Natsuo. Fuyumi was against it, though.

|| He got to visit Rei as well, which was.. Nice enough. He didn't really care much for his mom. He did care, but.. It was weird, whatever, he doesn't care about anything. All he wants is to be able to use his quirk and be free of Endeavor. At least he could laze around the house most days, it was, obviously, nicer than the old League of Villains place.. At least he didn't have to scrap for food. He could have cold soba with Shoto everyday if he wanted.

|| Gah! Whatever. Plus it's not like he could go anywhere without people flinching away from him everytime they saw his face. I mean, it made sense. Notorious villain, ugly set of scars. Makes sense why people flinched away. He understood, honestly if someone didn't flinch from him, he'd think they were a psychopath. Who wouldn't be scared of a known villain who's murdered people??

|| But then there was.. You. Dabi had met you in front of a small cafe that is the only place Dabi didn't feel like he was hated, or cast aside. Again, people hating him was totally valid and he understood why they did, he just needed a break. But, I digress. When he first met you, you were sipping on your beverage of choice and, at least appeared, to be looking out the window. You seemed so... Soft as the light hit your face. But, Dabi being Dabi, he just ignored you every time he saw you. Well, acted like he ignored you, in reality he glanced over to you a few times.

|| This day was different, you left before he was going to leave and you knocked over your.. Cane? How did he never notice that before? You tried to find it, using the table as a crutch but it was too far. So what did Dabi do? Look confused for a moment as you struggled before scoffing and helping you out. Why he did? He didn't know, god maybe the rehab wasn't getting to his head.

|| "Think you dropped this," He lifted the cane and handed it over to your, very very VERY grateful self as you thanked him profusely. With that he left you alone as you used your cane/walking stick to help you leave the cafe. And that's your official meeting!

|| The next few days were pretty typical, however you did say hi to him at times after you found out his usual table. With much failed attempts. You never knew his name so you were just like "Hiya stranger!" or just a simple "Goodmorning" or something along those lines. He enjoyed it but never showed it, always grumbling a small "Hello" back. He hadn't told anyone about you, not his siblings, definitely not his dad or mom, definitely not the League they'd make fun of him, the only one who he'd be somewhat willing to say to is... Oh god, the damned bird.

|| Ever since rehab, him and Hawks had gotten on good terms, the only guy Dabi would begrudgingly call a friend outside of the League. They'd text.. Quite frequently, tbh, they'd trauma bond about their pasts so it was semi easy to talk to him. I digress, Dabi's mentioned you to Hawks once or twice. And he doesn't know how to talk more to you.. He doesn't know why he wants to talk to you.

|| "Sounds like you're just touch starved and want a friend?" Hawks stated, but sounded like more of a question as he snacked on some chips lazing about on his couch while Dabi was out on his balcony having a smoke. "Just say hi to them? Or sit at their table or something"

|| "Sitting at their table huh?" Dabi muttered that, actually taking that into consideration as he blew some smoke out of his mouth. The two of them stayed in silence for a few moments, the only noise was the tv, Keigo's crunching and Dabi blowing out more smoke. That was their friendship, and Dabi actually enjoyed it. Especially since he uh... Didn't have to betray him or whatever, ahem.

|| He left Keigo's place, giving his lighter back and saying bye to him. By now it was dark, like.. 11 pm? He'd like to say, he didn't know, his phone died a while ago. He kinda regretted not asking Keigo for his charger but whatever, it was a nice enough night to walk around, taking a small detour through the park. He could actually enjoy the city without having to worry about getting arrested or.. Hey.

|| He saw you on the park bench, just chilling there. You didn't have a phone out, not like you could stare at it. You just had your head tilted up to the sky. Damn, you looked so.. Peaceful. Dabi didn't wanna interrupt whatever the hell you were doing, but he could just... Talk to you. And he did. He sat on the bench beside you as you kept your head up to the sky.

|| "Hey, stranger," He muttered. You knew that voice! Your ears perked up the second you heard his voice and turned his direction, a small smile on your face as your gaze bore into his.

|| "Hey.. Uh.. Never caught your name, friend." You said, as you let out a small chuckle. The cold air around the two of you showed your small breath. Is this what peace felt like?? Is this what being a normal person felt like? Dabi didn't know, but he sure as hell isn't going to let it go. But.. What was he going to say for his name? Dabi? And let you know he was a villain and he'd never talk to you ever again? Or Touya? The name he so hated and renounced long ago.

|| ".. My name's Touya." He said quietly. He decided if he was going to befriend you, might as well not screw it up before he could even hear what your name was. He watched as you nodded, quirking your eyebrow up as you tapped your chin. What the hell were you thinking about that made you seem so.. Amused?

|| "You sure it isn't Dabi?" You asked with a small smile, a bit of mischief in your tone as Dabi froze. You knew?? Since when? For once in his life, he was speechless. No witty comeback, no insult to throw, nothing. He just sat there as you laughed in amusement.

|| Once you've finished your fit of giggles and chuckles you introduced yourself. Huh, now he knows your name. He repeated it quietly with a nod. He still didn't understand.. Why weren't you running in terror? Or insulting him for being a terrible person? Why did you just smile at him.. Like he did nothing wrong?

|| You admitted you asked the cafe owner who he was a few weeks back. Ever since the day he helped you with your cane, you were always.. At least interested in becoming friends! Sure, it freaked you out when you found out Dabi was a villain, but after learning he'd gone through rehab, you were more.. Relaxed? Afterall, he seemed nice.

|| You and Dabi- no, Touya, stayed on the bench for a long while, talking. For once! Learning about each other, and the more Touya learned abour you.. The more he wanted to let you into his life. Let you learn about his family, learn about his past.. Not be Touya, not be Dabi, but just.. Well, he didn't know. But, whatever.

|| Now! He offered to walk you home which you happily agreed, it was only a five minute walk though, you'd already memorized the way. He wondered why you only had a cane instead of a guide dog, you were saving up for one... Hmm..

|| He bid his goodbyes, promising to see you (haha) the next day and getting scolded by Fuyumi for being out late. After she learnwd WHY he was so late, oh she was ECSTATIC to find out Touya made a new friend!! Especially the one from the cafe! (He's told her about you before.)

|| Time skip to around a few weeks later, you and Touya had breakfast together at the cafe. You've met Fuyumu, Natsuo, and Shoto!! They were so nice! Shoto was really funny, really blunt! Fuyumi was so kind and soft spoken and Natsuo was entertaining! Much to Touya's dismay, you ended up close with all of his siblings. He wanted you for himself- wait what?

|| Ah, well, your friendship with Touya grew as the two of you kept hanging out. He'd talk about his home life, how he's going through rehab and that by the end of it he'd work as a hero. More of an underground one, but still a hero. And everytime he'd speak, you'd be there to listen.

|| When you would talk, oh you know that all of Touya's attention would be on you. Wether you knew it or not, he'd stare at you, all wide eyed as he listened to every word you said as if it were the law. He never did that with anyone else..

|| The two of you grew close as time went on, when he debuted as a "Rehabilitated Hero" (that wasn't his hero name), you were his first and number one fan! And don't think his family didn't notice! They had grown close to you, especially Fuyumi. She absolutely ADORED that you were Touya's friend (he.. didn't have much friends.).

|| Though, she could tell.. Your relationship was shifting. Touya was falling for you, and unbeknownst to anyone else, you were falling for him.

|| i had an idea and ran with it! idk how good this is, might make a second part but idk! js needed to cope from doing finals with this <//3

[mscherub]

Witchy Ways 🕸️

I fear this has not been proofread, so if you see spelling or grammatical errors, I am the queen of that so, yea, u have been warned 😎

Look at this post for my reasoning behind even writing this —> Witchy Ways Starters

Reader is gender neutral, and referred to as either Prefect or Y/N

Warnings!:

Reader does Witchcraft 💖

Swearing

I don’t really think there’s anything major…

Word count:

1.9k

Part 1: “Alchemy Exams Are…Easy?”, TBD

Prologue:

Well…ending up in Twisted Wonderland wasn’t exactly a bad thing for you in a sense granted that magic has always interested you from a young age. Here it’s not just a concept or something that requires intention, like what you’ve learned, no, here it’s physical, real, and it’s able to be seen in real time! No having to wait to see spells take effect, nah, they happen right then and there. And you can see spirits? And talking animals like Grim? It’s like a dream come true!

And of course, the best part of all, it’s widely accepted and integrated into almost every culture that spans across this world you’ve only gotten to see a sliver of here at NRC, a complete contrast to your world where even the idea of magic or witchcraft is a one way ticket straight to hell if you practice in it, or so the people say. But unfortunately, you can’t even perform magic yourself here since you don’t possess that type of power, which is something you’ve grown to accept, because now you are able to marvel at what real magic is like, and not just the way you’ve been performing it your entire life thus far.

A bonus is that all the knowledge you've gained of witchcraft back in your world, contrary to belief, is more useful here than one may think, assisting you in alchemy and even History classes. You know a lot already, and by the Sevens does it help you out especially in overblot situations.

Others say you have a questionable aura, not in a bad way they say, but it’s odd, and enigma, and when they look at you they can’t help but notice that you always seem to glow, emitting a sort of energy that is different from any other non-magic user that they’ve ever encountered. They ended up chalking it down to that, since you were from another world, you were just weird in that way, and that it was a normal thing for you. Great reasoning, I guess…

You haven’t told anyone you do this ”otherworldly magic,” so, just like anything you’ve grown accustomed to, some habits that you’ve picked up from your learnings still manage to slip their way through in your new life here, and those actions are viewed as awkward and weird by the others because it’s quite literally a foreign subject. How do you break it to them that magic does technically exist in your world but it’s not exactly the same…

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

Part 1: Alchemy Exams Are…Easy?

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

“Ok…so.” Deuce drawls on as he looks down at his notebook with a defeated look, like his notebook was mocking him for not knowing the answer.

“So?” You sigh as you fidget with the pencil in your hand. Helping the first year group study was normal, you all got close, and having a little study session was always a good way to ensure that at least the majority of the group would get a passing grade…most.

“Uh…ok, well…wait, what was the question again?” Deuce sighs as he looks back up at you with a pout.

“Bro, they just said it like for the second time a minute ago…” Ace sighs as he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t get snippy.” You remind him.

Pens are scattered about the table, along with books, grimoires, erasers, and drinks and snacks galore. It was the time to lock in, and some found it more difficult than others.

“What are cloves usually used for within potions? The effects of it in the potion more so.” You repeat. You watch Deuce, almost being able to hear the gears turning and clicking within his head. If he thought any harder than this smoke may come out of his ears.

“Effects of cloves within a potion…ok. Well…cloves are used for, well, mainly used for…erm…” he sighs, his hands encase his head on either side and he bobs his leg up and down underneath the table.

“Deuce…think.” You say gently. You smile at him, hoping it’d do something at least.

“Hexes?” He spits out, looking at you while pursing his lips.

“Ah…what are they used for in potions?” You look right back at him and shake your head. “We can try again with the next question…” you murmur. You clear your throat, and without looking at your notes, answer the question for him.

“Answer: cloves are mainly used in potions to aid in protection, protecting oneself from negative forces if potion is consumed, and it’s most commonly used within love potions because it draws love and money in.” You say, not stuttering once.

“Yep, I’m failing!” Deuce groans as he burrows his head in his arms.

“Don’t say that—“

“I can’t even answer a question as simple as that…I’m not gonna do good! Yet you seem to know it all!” He doesn’t even look up, huffing into his arms.

“Ok…could any of you have answered that question?” You look around at everyone at the table. Ace tenses up and he looks away, Jack’s tail stops swishing and his ears flatten against his head, Epel looks down at a blank page in his notebook, Sebek crosses his arms and lets out a small huff, Grim looks guilty, and ortho, well, he’s ortho-

“Mmm! I could have! Idia helped me with the basic knowledge of alchemy. It’s quite simple! Having access to the internet and multiple databases allowed me to read up on a lot!”

“You and Ortho both have it down…Prefect I don’t get how you know so much. No offense or anything, but you’re certain you’re magicless, right? Cause how come you seem to know more than all the folk here?” Epel sighs as he puts his pen down, not making another attempt to write anything.

Think of a rebuttal quick, uh-

“I liked biology and chemistry back in my world. Great classes. We, erm, experimented a lot and you know, you have to get to know the elements and what you're working with.” You shrug. Good enough.

More sighs and puffs of air are produced from the boys around the table and all you can do is find some patience and do your best to help them study. You knew you’d do fine.

Well, and at least you knew one of them would pass…man did they need some good luck. Hmmm…Good luck.

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

Being the great friend you are, you spent the night before the exams doing last minute check ups with where everyone was within the material. They all got a little better, a nice gap of improvement from the last study session, so you had some hope.

But you couldn’t watch your friends suffer, no, so you decided to make them something that would hopefully aid them in their troubles, which would be this upcoming exam.

“The hell is this?” Ace inspects the little bottle sealed off with a cork and yellow wax dripped over the top. Inside the small jar contains various items, such as salt, cinnamon, rosemary, oregano, parsley, ginger, thyme, and orange peels. What for? Well, you knew it was a good luck spell jar, something you made yourself frequently. To them, it just seemed like some seasoning packet.

“Do I put this on food?” Grim hums.

You shake your head and don’t say anything else.

“Is it a stimulant, human? I don’t believe this is permitted—“

“It’s…for good luck.”

…

“How is this little thing gonna do me any luck? Just a whole bunch of herbs and spices mixed together. Prefect, I thought you were smart.” Ace huffs.

“Ok, rude, and just trust me. I put hard work into those for you guys.”

They go quiet and you can see Deuce elbow Ace, telling him to keep his mouth shut about any other further remarks he may have.

“Look. Keep them on you while you take your exam. When have I ever even remotely let you guys down?”

“By being smarter than us—“

“That’s besides the point. You know what, keep them on you or don’t. I’m just trying to help.“ you glare at them before you send them off to go study up on their own.

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

Exam day has started! The classroom is quiet for the most part besides the sound of the scribbling of pens and the occasional cough or the knocking over of a water bottle(I had, too, lol. Always scares the FUCK outa me during a test).

And just as most of the students were getting to the second page, you were printing your name and heading right up to turn the paper into Crewel. He glances up at you as he’s drawn away from his work and he quirks a brow, though this wasn’t anything new to him since you always were the best pup in his class <3

He takes the test out of your hand, glances it over, gives an approving nod and sends you back to your seat. You can feel the eyes on you now as they feel like little prickles on your skin, each stare laced with a little bit of envy for your current position.

You take your seat again and quietly watch as Grim prints his answers down, staring thoughtfully around the room in hopes of scoring a freebie answer from a book spine or something. You do take notice of, however, the little good luck spell jar nestled in his bottom paws.

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

Fast forward about a week later, everyone was certain they had failed the exam, and quite frankly, most did, barely scoring even a 56%.

When the scores came back you weren’t very surprised to see a big red “A, 100%” as your score. It was expected, and people hated you for it because that meant no curves for grading. Thanks, Prefect…But the boys were not expecting to have passed themselves, getting scores even as close to yours.

“I got 89%!” Deuce hums happily as he flips through his test to find the answers he missed.

“I got 93%” Jack responds.

“97%” Sebek smiles as he holds his chin high, a smug smile creeping up onto his face.

“90%!” Epel sighs out of relief Vil won’t be ok his case now

“Mrahhhh! 90%, too!” Grim chuckles.

“100%” Ortho beams as he holds up his paper.

“You can search stuff up whenever you feel like it.” Ace grumbles. “I got 87%, let me guess, you got a 100%?” Ace looks at you with a look that says “I will not be surprised by the answer I hear.”

“Yep.” You smile.

“Always. But, I really wasn’t expecting to do this good. Going over the material last night I for sure thought I’d end up like the rest of the guys.” He sighs. Everyone nods along with his words and looks back at their scores. Then back to you.

“So. Did you guys end up carrying those little bottles I made you guys on exam day during the test?” You smirk, your shoulders raised a bit as you wait for a response.

They go quiet and they all make eye contact with each other before they nod, albeit timidly as they slowly make connections.

“Thought so.” You sigh. “Good!”

“Ok, how did you…” Ace huffs. “We never told ya that…and what does that have to do with anything?”

“I just could tell based on your scores. You’re welcome by the way.” You smile, and with a small wave of your hand, you take your leave to go discuss something with Crewel.

They all watch you walk away, and now their suspicions have increased tenfold…what weird shit did you pull, and why did it work?!

Ok, this is just the beginning I fear >:), thanks for reading my lovelies <3!!!!

Also, as per request, @brights-place , I hope this is ok to start off with, I have some pretty good ideas for later

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[l0relaii]

I just read that Connor writing you did about reader being the neighbor and I NEEEEEEDDDD the rest you’re such an amazing writer that cliffhanger got me😔

ohh my god thank you <3

it was my first time writing smth for connor and i was a bit nervous so ig that's why i left it at that 😭

part 1

"i'm sorry, this has never happened before-"

"d'you need.. any help with it?"

"i guess i do.. could uh- could you help me?"

"i thought you'd never ask"

now he was sat on your couch looking around the room. he'd never been over to your place before so he was trying to analyze anything that could tell him something about you that he didn't already know

he saw some books on a shelf, titles he recognized, some of them he knew you burrowed from hank

some makeup products amongst which he spotted what he assumed was your favourite shade of lipstick, since you wore it almost all the time, just like you were now

he memorized it, the image of your lips coated in that pretty shade. he'd often even fantasize about them

he wondered how they would feel like against his own when you kissed him, how his skin would look like littered with stains from you

he looked at the walls at every picture frame, some of them were of you, some of them of people he did not recognize

but what caught his eye was the little picture frame on the drawer next to the tv. a picture of you between him and hank holding sumo up by his front legs

he had the same picture on his nightstand at hanks place, their place

he remembered that day so clearly. it was the day he started acknowledging the fact that he might be falling in love with you

he snapped out of the trance like state he was in when you sat beside him shyly, your attitude so different from when you invited him in. your cortisol levels were higher than usual

you were stressed.

you were the one who offered to help him, so why are you feeling so anxious? you wondered where did all that boldness go?

he agreed to your offer, so you know he's expecting something from you

"uhh, have you.. have you done this before?"

"what? engaged in sexual intercourse? no, i haven't, yet"

"oh so.. you know how things are done, right? i supposed it's the same thing as if you were a hum- oh shit, i'm so so sorry that sounded so wrong-"

"you don't need to apologize, it's the truth, i'm an android, but that doesn't matter, right?"

his hand sneaks onto your thigh giving you a reassuring squeeze. his touch is pleasant, very pleasant

you wonder how you could go such a long time without it? without having him so close to you

interesting how such a small interaction can have such a big effect on you. now he's curious what other type of interaction may result in

"yeah i guess you're right.."

you lean towards him instinctively, connor mimicking your movement. you're so close to him, you can see every little freckle and mole on his face, god he's so handsome

your noses almost touch while you do some analyzing of your own. then you see his LED has turned from the previous peachy colour to a light pink shade

that's new as well

before you can ask him about it he closes the gap between you two, finally getting to feel the softness of your lips against his

everything is happening so fast that you don't even realize you ended up in your bedroom caged under his weight

your head is spinning and your ears are ringing while he trails kisses on your exposed neck

in your trance like state, lost in your own thoughts, you once again fail to notice when all your clothes disappear, thrown by connor somewhere on your bedroom floor

you feel his hands rubbing up and down your body, inspecting you, analyzing you while he feels your sweet scent invading his system

his thigh is nudged between your legs grinding up into you and his LED is flickering fastly, a now hot pink shade lighting up in the dim light of the room

you didn't even think he was.. equipped with the parts you're seeing now, that you feel poking at your thigh

sure, you heard about androids designed to do only this, their sole purpose being to pleasure humans

but after all, he was one of cyberlife's most advanced models, maybe they thought he'd need this in some investigation?

you read in an ad for the eden clubs about the traci models, and you remember feeling sick to your stomach after finding out what some humans did to the poor androids, how could anyone do this to another being?

that's the problem, they were not beings in the eyes of the cruel people that tortured them

The WR400 models are the most advanced design of sex partners. These specially developed models are equipped with functional genitals and are designed to fulfill all fantasies, from the most common to the most exotic.

The WR400 can easily be customized to alter their appearance at will, catering to the tastes of any client. Sexual intercourse with such machines does not fall under prostitution and is not prohibited by any law.

machines. that's all they were in the eyes of the monsters that did all those horrible things to them, no wonder some of them deviated and killed their aggressor

you didn't feel pity for them, why should you? they got exactly what they deserved, no one should be treated that way

you look up at him and into his eyes noticing the warmth and emotion in them while he analyzes you too. how could someone look at an android and not see a living being? another human?

connor looks human, sounds human, acts human and you sure do know that he thinks and feels like a human

hank told you what happened at the club, after the first time you saw connor dragging the grumpy hungover lieutenant in the car

later that night he called you asking you to come to the park

you didn't ask him what happened, where he went, what he did and why the hell he was in the park so late at night

instead you got dressed for the cold weather and put on the lovely coat you got for sumo to match the blue color of his leash

hank would often tease you and laugh at your overcaring personality towards his dog, but he was glad that you were there to take care of sumo when he couldn't

he also felt guilty about not being there for his furry companion at times, but at least he was glad that he had you

"he's a dog honey, he won't feel the cold, don't you see all that damn fur? i sure do see it on my clothes"

you responded in a baby voice scratching the saint bernard's head while he licked at your hand

"ohh, is that so boy? are you shedding again? maybe we should brush you this evening, what about a bath, huh? you'd like that sumo?"

the only response you got was an excited loud bark and fast wagging of his big fluffy tail

of course he didn't understand a damn thing you said, he just loved when you talked to him using that voice

you were sure he wouldn't love it when he ended up in the bathtub later that evening

you once read somewhere that his breed adores 'water activities such as playtime in the shallow waters but also swimming a bit deeper' maybe the tub wasn't deep enough for his liking? and the dog shampoo you rubbed on him surely didn't help

you knew where to find hank, he always sat on the same bench. he once told you he used to come here with his son, before the tragic accident happened

you recognized his car and your heart skipped a beat when you saw connor in the passenger seat

you tapped on the window and when he rolled it down you could hear the familiar heavy metal your neighbour liked to blast out in the middle of the night

connor told you that there was a "minor issue that had occurred" between them, that hank said he'd go and get "more drunk" but he just paced around the bench while he went back to the car

his answers were so calculated and stoic back then, his tone cold and so different from the tone he used right now to compliment and praise you

"such a good girl f'me.. so eager to help me.. d'you know how long i've been waiting to do this..?"

you feel his fingers dragging through the dampness between your legs while he is smirking at you

"mno.. a-ahh fuck- connor please-"

"since the first time i saw you..d'you know i thought you were hank's wife at first? fuck you have no idea how relived i was when he told me you were just his neighbour.. "

he remembered seeing you later that same night, after his argument with the lieutenant.

you brought sumo with you in a blue fluffy coat and asked him to watch the dog while you had a talk with his partner

he watched you walk angrily to where the man was sat on the bench and he saw your pissed of expression when you snatched the bottle from his hands and smashed it on the ground

"hey, what the fuck d'you think you're doing you fucking andro- oh, sorry i thought you were-"

"seriously hank? was it not enough when you almost got yourself into a coma earlier?"

"wait, how'd you kno-"

"oh i don't know, maybe because i saw the broken window and the bottles in your kitchen when i came after sumo? damn it hank, you have to stop or you'll end up killing yourself one day"

"oh spare me the lecture darling, y'know you sound just like him right now"

"like who?"

"like the cocky bastard sitting in my car, always bragging about accomplishing every mission, well guess what, this time he didn't"

he told you about what happened at the club, how they caught the two deviants responsible for a murder, how connor couldn't wouldn't shoot them

you knew then, even before he did, that he was slowly becoming a deviant himself

slowly becoming the man who currently held you close to his chest while entered you slowly

"fuuck sweetheart.. you feel so good wrapped around me.."

he felt you clinging to him desperately whimpering when he was fully inside you where he stayed still, letting you accommodate while feeling your pulsing walls squeezing him

"thought you'd be more uh- bold after seeing you deal with hank so many times.."

he liked how you put the loud mouthed lieutenant in his place every time he acted up, something he couldn't do since he had to obey him but he loved seeing you doing it in his place

but seeing you so different and submissive while squirming under him turned him on so much, especially when he knew that he was the one to make you act that way

"oh, i'm sorry it's just that-"

"i'm not complaining.. i actually like it"

he starts moving slowly while rubbing your hip, a comforting touch that made your stomach flutter

his pace was a slow one, dragging out every thrust while relishing in the way you felt and sounded

after you were done he held you close to his chest rubbing circles into your shoulder blades with his strong yet gentle fingers

he was afraid you were going to ask him to leave, maybe this was just a casual thing to you, you were just 'helping' him, as you said you would earlier that evening

what if you were only doing what hank asked you? helping him.. explore what being human felt like

and fuck he felt so alive in that moment, it was like you two (and the sleeping dog in your living room) were the only creatures on the planet, nothing mattered

not anymore when he was here, with you

"please don't go.."

"i won't, i promise"

[rivalswrites]

ahmmm 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ How about like a Hawkeye & Punisher (seperate!!) X mtf (or js trans) reader hcs?? You never see trans readers that aren't js used 4 smut it's kinda 😬😬😬😬

I think the reader is fully out (maybe not fully physically transitioned), just doesn't bring much attention 2 the fact they are trans considering they'd probably be in the fight? So like the two realizing that she is trans and if anything changes/how they act about it.

Also sort've on the topic, what are your pronouns!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! u don't have them on ur page 😞

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

Anon you're so real for this, I genuinely haven't seen many trans readers that aren't nsfw and I'm so TIRED OF IT 😭😭 And tysm for asking, I guess it slipped my mind, but I use They/Them pronouns ❤️

I went the nonspecific route for which type of trans reader is so you could choose, truly sorry if that doesn't seem that way.

For some reason this was so hard to do, but I absolutely love both of them so I pushed through in the end💪 Clint and Frank’s ended up SO different, I'm so sorry 😭

Masterlist

He isn't dumb, he knows people are different in many ways. But that doesn't mean he can spot it like he can a head shot. He's not great with any sort of social queues, give him a moment.

It takes almost months for him to realize, but when he does it's a jump for him. It's not new to him, trans people, but he doesn't know many personally- so he goes to others for advice, people that he knows know more than him about this. When they tell him more about it, he's making severe mental notes.

He tries to come off as subtle, making hints in passing conversation that he knows and supports you, but he's not as slick as he thinks. It's very obvious. He makes comments like “People can change their gender at any moment, and that's just so cool” and thinks ‘yeah, I'm sly’.

Eventually you sit him down and kinda confront him about it, and he lets it out that he's embarrassed he didn't catch on sooner to something so open. It's almost hilarious how silly he looks, confessing that. His face is red with embarrassment and constantly running his hand through his hair out of nervousness.

But it's not wrong or bad he didn't realize, if anything it totally validated you- he couldn't tell you weren't born that way. He's just unintentionally made you feel the most validation you've ever felt. Congratulations Clint, the unintentional ally.

Now that he knows it's alright, he asks you all the questions possible. How did you know? What's it like day to day? Should he beat people up for you? He doesn't want to invalidate your feelings by doing everything for you, but he can't help it. It's in his nature, he sees you struggling and he has the need to help.

When it comes to hurt feelings, or just a bad day of dysphoria, he's at your side constantly. Without fail he'll always be there for you, his arms wide and body warm- ready to comfort. Those mental notes he's made in the past really help at times like these, he knows exactly how to make you feel somewhat better.

Some days he'll come back from a mission and catch you in his room, surrounded by his blankets, and his heart soars. He'll join you and wrap his arms around you, snug as a bug. The blackout curtains make it so he can coddle you all day and not know or care, only getting up for the bathroom or some kind of food (which he orders, his kitchen privileges are revoked).

This old man (affectionate) isn't too concerned about what or who people are, if you're on his side you're on his side. He acknowledges your presence and the more you know him the more he is willing to make dumb small talk during down time.

But you're closer than that, he makes the effort to watch over you during matches, to protect you. He even does more than small talk, he genuinely talks to you and enjoys it. He likes to think he knows you.

Except maybe he doesn't.

It was brought up in conversation, a small comment made by you. He's a little unfocused from the conversation after that, but he makes sure to keep it going until eventually you leave. The solitude gives him time to process and think. Man, he doesn't know you- nor does he know anything about these types of things! He likes you, he wants to make you comfortable, make you happy. How does he do that if he didn't even know something you seem pretty open about?

Research is what he goes to first, anything he can find he takes. He spends the whole night on his shitty laptop, hunched on the couch like a loser.

It's not until you come into the living room that he even realizes how late it was, much to both your confusion as to why either of you were up so late. A little embarrassed he admits he was looking up stuff about being trans, which made you think HE was trans, which made him almost jump up and half whisper half shout ‘no!’. This was difficult, and he explained quickly that it was for you, to make sure he doesn't ever make you uncomfortable and make sure he knows his stuff. How kind.

The both of you sat down on the couch, facing each other, and you told him if he had any questions he could ask you. You felt so honored that the Frank Castle, the Punisher, took his time to try and learn something he knew nothing about to make you comfortable.

Too flustered to say anything, Frank just wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side. Enough talking, he's embarrassed- it's late, get some sleep. Oh? You're worried about the couch, that's alright, just lay on him. His back will be okay.

[laugtherhyena]

Continuing the rant-iness of last post's notes onto this one i think (I appreciate if they're read, i think I'm too self-conscious to have them in the post itself)

[seventh-district]

.

[wolpatinga]

[dan-crimes]

I don't personally enjoy death in my stories for one because I have no experience with it personally and for two because you can't torture a character anymore once they've died 😇

[darabeatha]

/ The process of me picking a f.go muse is basically reading from 745738483 different sources about the actual character or historical figure in question and -then- reading whatever their f.go description says; then turbo analyzing their designs