#she’s staring directly at you with absolutely no fear

[mrhyde-mrseek]

Currently thinking about how the portrait of Isabella de’Medici was transferred from wood panel to canvas and then altered to fit Victorian beauty standards by a man named Francis Needham so that a buyer would be more attracted to it, and hundreds of years later we only know what Isabella really looks like due to Ellen Baxter, the conservator of the Carnegie Museum of Art in Pennsylvania, discovering that the cracks in the painting were smaller than cracks in old canvas usually are, thus leading to the discovery of the Victorian version of photoshop done to her-

(Victorian canvas transfer on the left, original wood panel on the right)

[entitled-fangirl]

So guilty.

Felix Catton x reader

Summary: An accident happens and the reader dies. Felix blames himself for it.

Words: 1,959

Warnings: spiked drink, death, drowning, cursing, makeout session, skinny dipping, guilty conscience

Author's note: Idea came from this request!!!!

Masterlist <3

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Felix and his girl had been together for what felt like an eternity. Truthfully, they'd been together a little over two years. But she spent many of her breaks at Saltburn with him, and his family adored her as one of their own. 

That’s what made things so difficult. She was practically one of them. 

Felix loved her more than the moon and the stars. She was his everything. He would eat, sleep, and breathe her if he could. She was his reason for waking up in the morning. And she was a beautiful sight to wake up to, indeed.

Like this morning.

Felix opened his eyes to see the sun peeking through his window, illuminating the bedroom. He leaned on one elbow to admire the sunrise before ultimately laying back down on his back. His head looked directly to his side to see his beloved girl. His angel.

She laid on her stomach, her face turned in his direction. Her cheek was slightly squished against the pillow, her hair an absolute wreck. But he found it so alluring. So perfect. Heavenly. Her pretty face lit up by the sunlight was the best thing his brown eyes had ever had the joy to witness. He let out a soft breath at the sight. One that woke her up.

Her eyes flickered open, before quickly closing again after seeing the sun in her eyes. She let out a light groan. “Mmm… ‘Morning, love.”

He grinned, his voice gravely from sleep, “‘Morning, angel. God, you’re such a pretty girl.”

She smiled, rolling over onto her back. A hand of hers came up to cover her eyes as she lightly rubbed them with the back of said hand. 

He wished he could save this moment in time forever.

But, like all good things, it must come to an end.

Duncan’s voice was heard outside the door. “Master Felix, breakfast is in thirty minutes.”

He leaned up on his elbow, his voice echoing, “Thank you, Duncan.”

They heard his footsteps retreat from the door.

Felix’s attention turned back to the girl in his bed. Her pretty face. Her perfect body. Her sweet sweet soul. “What do you wanna do today, angel?”

A silence fell over them before she opened her eyes again, staring at the ceiling. She thought for a while before turning her head to look at him, “Let’s drink the day away, huh? You and me?”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips pull into a grin before he gently kisses her forehead, “Anything my angel wants.”

…

Hours after breakfast, the two sat in the library, sharing a bottle of liquor. 

Felix’s parents didn’t mind. Not at all. They were the parents to encourage drinking in the house rather than out in bars and clubs, claiming it was best for them to realize their tolerance when safe at home. Felix didn’t care what morals they tried to teach. They could drink in the house, and that’s all he needed to know. 

The bottle sat half empty, the two feeling buzzed as they talked for hours. 

It didn’t really matter what the two talked about. Not at all. Felix could listen to her speak the alphabet for four hours and still think she was the most precious thing on earth. 

But it escalated after a while. The two lay on the couch, their bodies close as they made out. 

His hand was up her shirt, her hands pulling at his hair. He would never get tired of her pretty body. The small noises she made in pleasure. The way her body would react to his touches. He loved every second of it. 

She pulled away from him suddenly, her eyes staring at his lips. “Let’s… let’s go sw… swim, yeah? C’mon Lex.”

He takes a moment to consider, or as much as he could in his drunken state, “you sure, angel? It could be kinda cold…”

She nodded, “Pl…Please, Please Lex. Wanna swim… Wanna swim with you..”

He nodded, letting his fears go before they even became present.

… 

She pulled him across the dock excitedly. 

He set their basket and bag down before setting up their picnic. Well, as much of a picnic they could put together by themselves, two drunk college kids in love.

He laid out the blanket before setting down the other alcohol bottles he brought. He let her take a look at the bottles as he set each one down on the blanket. “Now, let’s waste the rest of the day like you wanted, angel.”

She quickly pulled off her swimsuit cover, revealing the cute red bikini she was wearing. 

He couldn’t help but stare. God, she was such a pretty thing. Too pretty. How he got her, he’d never know. She must’ve felt his stares because she grinned. “C’mon, Catton. You promised a swim…with…with me.”

He nods, opening one of the bottles in front of him. “I did. Just wanna… wanna buzz a little before I do… just…go…go ahead, baby girl….”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She grinned, running off the dock into the water. 

He grinned, laying down on the blanket and pulling the bottle to his lips. “Talk to me…”

She splashed the water around her, “Oh, Lex. This is incredible. This... yeah… good idea…”

His head nods, even if she couldn’t see it. He pulled his sunglasses on, not wanting to look directly into the sun above him. “Well… wasn’t my idea but… I’ll take… credit if it makes you happy…”

She giggles, “It does.”

Felix let the silence fall before changing the subject. “D’ya think Oli’s alright? He was acting weird yesterday…. Should… Should have I invited him to swim with us today?”

He could practically hear her grin in her voice. “Oh, Oliver doesn’t want to be here… this is for you…and me.”

He grinned, “What… what d’ya mean, angel?”

He’s hit in the face with a cloth. He pulls it up.

Her swimsuit pieces. 

He sits up, holding the pieces in front of him with a shit-eating grin. “Fuck, angel. You’re quite… quite wicked… aren’t you?” He took another swig of his bottle. 

She giggles from the water. “Aren’t you glad Oliver’s not here?”

He scoffed, “More than fucking happy… no one gets to see this but me, huh? Such a pretty girl…” He stood, stumbling slightly. How much of that bottle had he drank?

He shuffled forward on the dock until she was in his line of sight. The sight of her bare shoulders sent him into a frenzy. “Fuck…” He wished, just for a moment, that they were in a clean pool so he could see through the murky water. See her pretty body on display for him. 

She grinned, “Ya coming in, Lex?”

He let out a breath, “Jesus, angel. Yeah… yeah I…. I’ll be there.. Give me… give me a second.”

He walked back to the blanket, struggling to take off his shirt. He does so, tossing it in the bag before taking another swig of the bottle in front of him. 

He sets the bottle down and walks back to the end of the dock.

Where was she?

Oh, Fuck. Where was she?

“…Angel…?”

No response. 

His voice grew louder, “C’mon, angel. This isn’t funny.”

When he was met with silence, his mind quickly sobered him. His voice was loud, calling out desperately, “Angel… ANGEL!”

When no answer was heard, he jumped into the cold water. 

He surfaced, his head swiveling around to look for her. Any sign of her. Where the fuck was she?

His heart told him it was just a game, that she was hiding somewhere, but his head said differently. She didn’t play games like this. Not the worrisome kind. 

He began to swim further out in search for her. He hit the middle of the pond, looking around desperately. 

He had only turned his head for a second. A second. And she was gone. 

She was gone.

His family heard his heartfelt screams from the house.

…

A few days had passed, and Felix was beyond disrepair. His hair was unwashed, his facial hair grew in, and his eyes held a dull look compared to the bright shine they used to have.

He felt guilty. So guilty. 

He had killed her.

As much as people tried to convince him that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t do it, it didn’t matter. He still believed that he killed the one thing he lived for. And he killed himself in the process.

With Oliver’s party coming up, Felix couldn’t care any less. He felt guilty for not entertaining his guest, but what was he supposed to do? The poor mourning boyfriend couldn’t even sleep at night, his night terrors becoming worse every night.

Oliver broke the boy’s train of thought. “Felix?”

He looked up from the bottle in his hand, “…what?”

Oliver was saddened by the tired, heartbreaking look in Felix’s eyes. “I’m worried about you. You don’t sleep. Don’t eat… This isn’t what she would’ve wanted.”

“How do you know what she wanted” Felix’s voice growled. His hand tightened around the bottle. 

“I… I don’t know… It was just a thought, Felix. You really do need to care for yourself…”

The poor Catton didn’t even look up from the bottle this time, “You don’t know anything about me, Oliver. Now, get the fuck out.”

Oliver stumbled back, surprised by his harsh words before obeying them. 

…

Felix sat against the base of the statue in the maze. His eyes closed in thought. He should be happy. Partying. Having fun. Enjoying life. 

Life.

How could he enjoy his life when he ended hers?

He reached over to the newest bottle next to him, taking a big swig. 

He was a disgusting human being. How could he even be around a party after he did this? After he lost her? His angel. God, his fucking angel was dead. 

He finished off the bottle quickly, throwing it into one of the hedges. His head fells against the statue, his body relaxing. 

He heard rustling and opened his eyes.

Oliver rounded the corner of the maze, meeting Felix’s eyes. 

“Thought you’d be here…”

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight of Oliver’s antlers. “…the fuck you… you wearing, Quick?”

Oliver’s head tilted, “It’s for the party? How much have you been drinking, Felix?”

The boy’s shoulders shrug, “Doesn’t fucking matter….”

Oliver nods, “Well.. you have the wings on. I’m not that strange for my antlers… unless, of course, you’re too drunk to remember putting them on?”

Felix turned her head to look. Sure enough, a pair of gold wings were on his back. When the fuck did they get there? This whole time? He let out a groan, “I’m fine, Oli…”

Oliver sighs, “Yeah, sure bud.”

Felix noticed the mostly full alcohol bottle in Oliver’s hand, his eyes wandering to it. 

Oliver noticed it too. He held it up. “You want this?”

Felix nodded, holding out his hand.

And Oliver happily handed it to him with a shit eating grin.

“Just… don’t drink too much too fast, Felix. Got that?”

Felix nodded, “Fuck off. I… I’m fucking fine…”

Oliver nods. “Alright. I’m gonna go back to the party. Just… sorry, Felix.”

Felix took a large drink from the bottle, “What the fuck for?”

Oliver shrugs, “Everything, I guess. You got handed the wrong cards in life.”

He scoffed, “Go back to your party.”

Oliver does just that.

…

In the morning, Felix’s body was found in the maze, exactly where Oliver had last seen him. The bottle laid empty in his hand.

Oliver found peace knowing the two lovers were reunited in a much different place.

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[jadestone2]

IM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH UR GUNS N ROSES + READER FIC AAAA I NEED MORE ITS LIKE A WHOLE NEW WORLD (please if you do write more I will be jumping out of joy (^.^)

Roses ‘n oil 

Theme: nsfw

Summary: Going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when someone flirts with you. They came up with an agreement to mark what’s theirs.

Pair: Boothill & Argenti x chubby reader 

Tw: bitting, oral (fem), praise

Song: Don’t go insane

A/n Don’t be shy to make yourself an official Noonie for my blog<33 you also didn’t tell me if you wanted sfw or nsfw, I did nsfw because I said I would for these 2 

Maybe going to the bar with your boyfriends was a mistake, especially when fights are bound to happen. The moment Boothill saw there was an ongoing fight he instantly shoves his hat on your head, covering your eyesight. 

His hat smelled like his cologne and the nasty smell of cigarettes, a hint of oil smell too. His intense smells clouds your head, though you welcomed it.

You sigh, watching a table smashing into a guy’s leg. Boothill goes crazy, his demonic laughter filling the bar as people watch with anticipation.

“Ugh, why am I surprised? So much for a calm day” You say, resting your head on the palm of your hand.

“It’s alright, my love. Boothill will be fine, how about I get you a drink?” Argenti asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

You nod your head, watching how Boothill doges glass bottles being thrown in his direction. Argenti could see how tense you were, he gently rubbed at your shoulder.

You watch the red man slowly dispersing into the crowd of people, the long red hair fading from your eyes. You sit in silence, still watching how Boothill seemed to enjoy making a scene. 

Suddenly the smell of alcohol smells stronger, a drunk man having a drunk smile on his face. Your eyes twitch in annoyance, he takes a seat by you.

“Looking good, darling” the man slurs, he looked like he was going to black out. 

His hands grab at the fat of your hip, squeezing. You cringe, removing his hand from your hip.

It felt like the fight stopped, the cheering slowly going dead quiet. You shiver, someone was staring at you with an intensity that would pierce through you.

The click of shoes as someone walks close to you, it sounds like they are getting closer, making you even more nervous. The sudden cheers getting louder, incision someone won. 

“Hey there, partner. I’d like to let you know that this little sugar is off limits” Boothill says, his voice coming directly behind you. 

You tense up when you see a revolver coming in your eyesight, pointing at the man. Terror strikes the man, frozen in fear. 

You could see him tremble, holding his hands out. Boothill chuckles when the man quickly walks away, almost tripping over his feet. That famous cocky smile on Boothill's face, facing you with amusement. 

“Was that necessary? Put that away, people are looking” You avoid, shoving his revolver into his pocket. 

“What’s happening, my love?” A familiar red hair asks, placing down your drink. 

“You were supposed to watch ‘er, she could have got hurt” Boothill grits, a glare sent Argenti’s way.

“Me? I went to get her a drink because you were stressing her out, starting a fight” Argenti says, you could see how he was starting to get annoyed. 

Argenti almost never gets mad, always so calm, but it was obvious Boothill’s antics were getting to him. The obvious conflict brewing between them, creating an uncomfortable atmosphere. 

 “Guys, it’s ok— let’s just go home” You says, grabbing their hands.

You take a sip of your drink, the alcohol sending a sweet flavor down your throat, your taste buds tingling. Argenti and Boothill share a look, lifting an eyebrow. Boothill chuckles, putting a hand on his hip.

“Of course, sugar~ let’s just go back home” Boothill says, walking past you. 

“What’s that for?” You ask, confusion dripping from your voice. 

Boothill looks over his shoulder, his teeth showing as he smiles brightly at. You could hear the quiet chuckle from Argenti, deciding not to question it. 

The way back home was quiet, the sound of romantic music playing quietly, the click of Boothill’s boots. Argenti hums quietly, he must know this song.

He seems at peace, even though he seemed pissed earlier. It looked like something was bothering him, his brows furring in concentration. 

Honestly, can you shut the flip up partner?” Boothill says, glaring at Argenti.

You snort, guess he’s still not able to cuss. Argenti continues to hum, opening your house door wide enough.

“Sugarplum~” Boothill draws out, circling around like you were his prey, his hands tracing around your hip.

Argenti leans in, kissing your lips. He rubs at your cheek, the smell of roses fill your head, the cologne he wears. 

“Boothill!” You shriek, feeling sharp teeth sink into your shoulders. 

A tongue swirls around the area, coating the area in a thin sheet of spit on your neck. You stare at Argenti with pleading eyes as Boothill nimble on your neck, leaving marks. 

“Let us mark you, sugar~” Boothill coos in your ear, licking at your earlobe. 

Argenti carries you to the couch, helping you out of your clothes. The metal of Boothill’s hand sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps covering your soft flesh. 

“Mmh, you don’t mind? We want to worship you, your beauty” Argenti says, parting your thighs. 

The tip of Argenti’s tongue licks at your clit, drinking in the juices that coat your cunt in a shiny layer. He hums into your clit, tongue swirling around the engorged bud. 

“Do you have to fiddling hog her? Dang voice restriction!” Boothill grunts, shoving Argenti’s head out the way. 

Boothill eagerly laps at your cunt, leaving no area unexplored. You moan, plucking his hat off his head. 

“Serves you right, learn your lesson, you can’t keep cussing in front of children” Argenti chuckles, pinching at your nipples. 

Boothill grumbles, it sounded muffled since his head was buried in your cunt. His cold hands grab at your thighs, squeezing the chub.

“Boothill!” You whine, his tongue plunging in your clenching hole.

A sharp stung could be felt on your thigh, Boothill chuckling when you glared down at him. 

“Just marking what’s mine” Boothill teases, continuing to lap at your cunt. 

Argenti trails kisses back down, spreading your thighs wider. His tongue slowly rubs at your clit while Boothill’s tongue plunges in and out of your soaked hole. 

The wet sounds fill the room, the occasional groans from Boothill when you pull at his hair. Argenti pulls from your clit, his fingers pressing on the bud. 

“Good girl, cum for us” Argenti says, his fingers rubbing at your clit fastly. 

You tense up, throwing your head back. You tense up, drenching Boothill’s face with your cum. 

“There you go~ so good for us, my sweet” Argenti says, rubbing spare hair from your eyes. 

“I wanna watch a movie” Boothill grins, acting like his lower half of his face isn’t soaked in your juices. 

He sits beside you, his tongue licking most of your juices from his face. Your face goes bright red in embarrassment. 

These idiots just ate you out and now they want to watch a movie?! Argenti grabs at the remote, putting one a cheesy romance movie. 

“This reminds me of us” Argenti says, pointing at a scene where two guys are fighting over the lady. 

She looked so tired of their shit, like she was about to smack the shit out of their head. It was honestly so funny, you snickering when the two guys in the movie let out a pained cry when she smacks their head and scolds them. 

“Boring! Let’s watch a cowboy movie, right sugar?” Boothill asks, looking over to you with a cocky grin. 

“Don’t you dare” you warn, a disgusted look on your face. 

“You love riding cowboys? Especially metal ones, right?” Boothill says, laughing hard when you shriek and hit his head, even Argenti laughs.

You wonder if that woman in the movie was you in another universe, she seemed to have the same reaction as you.  

Taglist: @sidhion @ihatelifesm @sneakylilbartender @missingtophat

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter One

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @ursinaw  @thisisafish123 and @cenatour wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me!

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: none for now

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Thank you for everyone on Tumblr and Quotev for guessing! A lot of you have gotten ones right but there no one's gotten all of Heartslaybul (which makes me worry I did badly there)

Now, onto the Hyenas, Lions, and Wolves!

Prologue here

Next chapter here

—----------------------------------

Since the wolves were right across from the lions and hyenas, you would be expected to divide your time equally between the two for your first official day at The Halfling Zoo. That was a pain, since all three of those species were more active at night. 

“You’ll be doing today’s morning feedings, right?” a woman in the zoo’s uniform asked you.

“Yes, for the lions, hyenas, and wolves,” you replied cheerfully.

The woman gave a sigh of relief, “Thank goodness- the lions always look like they’re about to kill you if you make the wrong move. Good luck!”

You stared blankly at her retreating figure. You really wish she hadn’t said that, because now you were absolutely terrified to step foot in that enclosure. Mr. Crowley had said to you yesterday, among all the other welcoming ramblings, that you had to go into each exhibit and give the food directly to the halflings, as opposed to leaving the food near the door and waiting for them to come and grab it.

After the zoo keeper’s “encouraging” words, you decided to give food to the hyenas first.

The hyena halflings were easy to spot- the group of seven or so male halflings sat in a group, talking and laughing loudly. There was one boy in the center of the crowd, waving his hands emphatically as he conversed with his peers.

As soon as you approached the hyena halflings, the mood immediately shifted. The halflings took several steps back, the conversation ceasing at once, all of them staring at you through weary, distrustful eyes.

That’s right- male hyenas are submissive toward females since they are usually aggressive and stronger.

“It’s alright!” you tried to speak as soothingly as possible, putting down the bucket of steaks so you could raise your palms in a non-threatening manner. They watched you carefully, still distrustful.

Finally, the boy from the center of the crowd put his hands behind his head and strolled up nonchalantly, grabbing a steak from the bucket. Although he acted like it was no big deal, you didn’t miss the way he eyed you with a fearful gaze and skirted around you as though you might explode at any moment. 

The other hyena halflings caught on and, walking around you with extreme caution, they managed to fish their meals out of the bucket. The hyena from before came back for a second steak and, not long after, for a third. 

“What’s your name?” you asked him as he fished around for the best steak left in the bucket.

He stopped searching and turned his gaze on you once more. He seemed to size you up for a moment before saying something softly. “What was that?” you asked.

“Ruggie,” he said softly, his ears turning inwards and an annoyed pout making its way to his face.

“I like that name!” you said cheerily. Ruggie eyed you dubiously and finally pulled a steak from the bucket, racing back to the other hyenas. On his way, he looked over his shoulder at you, his gaze uncertain.

You felt like you had made progress.

Now it was time to feed the lions, and the thought made your feet feel like lead. You were not looking forward to a lion halfling murdering you over a steak. 

A part of you wondered if some of the halflings really did prefer this life- or at least, the food. You had learned in class that halflings preferred to eat human food, although they could stomach their animal counterpart’s diet. Halflings, no doubt, preferred these still-warm cooked steaks over raw meat.

You picked up the bucket of steaks and began your journey across the faux savannah. It really was hot in the exhibit and the heavy bucket seemed to weigh you down considerably. Sweat beaded on your forehead and you found it even harder to push yourself across the distance to the lions.

When you finally arrived in front of them, you could feel yourself trembling in fear. In a shaky voice, you called out, “Who wants steaks?”

All of the lions’ eyes turned immediately to the lion halfling lounging across the rock above them. Ah, I get it. They won’t eat until he eats.

Slowly you approached him. You weren’t sure if he was awake until one green eye cracked open and lazily regarded you. You gulped and reached into the bucket, closing your hands around a steak and holding it out to him. He remained lying there, but his eye closed once more.

You began to set the steak next to him when blinding pain shot up your arm, causing you to promptly drop it on the rock. You looked down and saw that the back of your hand was bleeding from four long streaks. The king of the lions was now sitting up, glaring at you, blood dripping from the claws of his right hand.

“How dare you approach me so casually?” he snarled.

You weren’t sure what to do, so you sank into a bow, and murmured, “I’m so sorry.”

The lion gazed down at you, a mixture of surprise and amusement in his eyes. He laid back down, closing his eyes, “Whatever. The rest of you can eat.”

Lions rushed forward, clamoring around the bucket to get the best steaks. The lion on the rock did not reach for his own steak, choosing instead to go back to sleep. You were sorry you disturbed him, and not only because you were now nursing a heavily bleeding hand. The wound was surprisingly deep and you hoped that they had a first aid kit in the office.

A very small lion cub halfling with red hair bounced up to you. Your heart instantly melted at the sight of such an adorable little thing grabbing a steak and smiling up at you. So cute!

“Uncle Leona! Uncle Leona! Are you going to eat your steak or can I have it?” the little halfling asked the lion on the rock.

The lion- Leona, you guessed- glared down at the cub and snatched the steak out of the his reach with a warning growl. While the guttural sound was enough to make you shake in your boots, the cub merely giggled and took a bite of his own steak.

The bucket was empty by the time every lion had taken one. They were big steaks, but you weren’t sure it would be enough to keep them full. You headed back to the keeper’s door with sweat rolling down your cheeks. The heat and dryness may be perfect for the lions and hyenas, but you could barely stand it.

As soon as you were back in the keeper area, you made a beeline for the water cooler. You poured yourself a cup and downed it in a couple seconds. Panting, you filled your cup a second time. You sipped the water a little slower this time, feeling its cooling effects soothe you.

You headed for the nearest first aid kit, conveniently hanging on the wall near the exhibit’s exit. You had a feeling you weren’t the first to need it. You took some bandages from the case and wrapped them around your hand, hissing a little at the pain the pressure caused.

You were ready to face the wolves now. And, as you made your way into their enclosure, you noted with relief that the warm was crisp and cool- the exact opposite of the previous enclosure.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, but you knew that, by the time you had made the trip with the heavy steaks, you’d probably be sweating again. Sure enough, the labor took its toll on your body, your arm aching as you switched the bucket to your other hand.

Deep in the forest now, you could sense eyes on you. Relieved that you had finally found the wolves, you collapsed to the ground. Unprofessional, maybe, but greatly needed. You sat on the soft grass as the wolf halflings began to approach you.

A few had their lips drawn up in a snarl, and one of them called out, “Who are you? You’re not our regular keeper.”

Another wolf was quick to say, “But she’s brought food. Isn’t that all that matters?”

You raised your hands in a peaceful gesture, “I’m a researcher and I’m the one dropping off your food for this morning.”

That seemed to satisfy the wolves. Some of them still glared at you, but they all took their steaks. You looked around at the pack and was surprised to see, among all the gray hair, a head of pure white.

The wolf wasn’t glaring at you, but his expression didn’t give away how he felt at all. He seemed to be eyeing you warily, much like the hyenas. You fished out a steak and held it out to him. His eyes widened a little and he approached you.

“Thank you,” he said in a gruff voice, taking the steak from you. Before you could ask him his name, he disappeared into the crowd of wolves. You weren’t sure why your mind had picked him out from the others, except that his hair was a different color. A little embarrassed by your reaction to him, you held out a steak to another passing wolf, who growled at you in response.

As soon as the enclosure door shut behind you, you sank to the ground, exhausted. That was only the morning feeding- you had a full day (and part of the night) of studying and documenting behavior ahead of you.

[am-i-interrupting]

the vees (that you write for lmao) and maybe Angel Dust with an s/o that sleeps like a koala. like arms around the character's neck, legs around the character's waist, and head in their shoulder/crook of their neck as they just sleep peacefully

🍗 anon

btw I loved the karen and regina hcs!! amazing!! you're writing is scrumdilicious!!

I don’t write for Angel but I can do Vox & Vel. I’m glad you’re enjoying what I’m writing! 🖤🖤

Velvette

Velvette is, at least by Hell’s standards, a small person. It is very likely that you engulf her.

She will likely send a picture of her predicament to Vox if she needs to be somewhere with the caption “Help.” He normally replied with a “Your partner, your problem.”

In which case, she’ll call Valentino, put him on speaker phone (pretend like she didn’t) and tell him some lie before sending Vox the same message.

It does wake you up without her having to do it directly though because damn, is Valentino fucking loud.

She does cherish the moments when she’s not busy though.

She likes being trusted and not just feared from time to time.

She’ll cup the back of your head with her hand and pull you closer, encouraging you to hold her tighter and just stay there.

Vox

Vox is a very busy man but he’ll try to do any work he has to on his phone or a tablet when you’re like this.

If you didn’t fall asleep on him in his office chair, which happens far more than it should.

He enjoys you laying on him though.

It slows his always too fast and stressed out heart to have you stop him.

If he absolutely had to get up, he will lift you so you don’t move and just cradle you as he goes to where he needs to.

There’s been occasions where he’s gone to meetings with you like this, just staring at the people one the room, daring them to comment. They never do.

At night though, he just cherishes the sound of you breathing and the feel of you around him, putting your entire body into embracing him. It makes him feel almost worthy.

[annwrites]

you send me

— pairing: negan smith x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: negan comes to see his "favorite" girl in alexandria, only to find out she's incredibly sick and that denise has absolutely nothing to help her as she slowly slips away

— tags: negan pining, negan worrying, negan trying to annoy you bc like a little boy he can't just admit he has feelings for you, there is a flashback of the two of you dancing bc i'm a sap

— tw: rocky mountain spotted fever is mentioned, vomiting, medication being forcefully administered

— word count: 2,602

— a/n: in my canon, denise never dies | my twd masterlist | sam cooke song that's mentioned

The house is silent, as usual, when Negan comes through the front door. "Where is my favorite girl?" He asks with a chuckle, but the words float into thin air, no response coming back to greet him.

The only reason he even bothers coming to your domain anymore is simply to annoy you. Maybe get under your skin by making the offer for you to join his harem of wives...again.

In hopes of pissing you off a few weeks ago, he'd taken a batch of cookies you'd just boxed up fresh from the oven with a wink, saying it was 'property of the saviors now' and 'hope they taste just as sweet as you are'. He'd even rummaged through your fridge, stealing a Tupperware container of leftover pasta, before whistling to himself as he walked out the door, not bothering to close it behind him, Lucille slung over his shoulder.

You'd been none-too-pleased the afternoon you came home to find him napping on your couch. You knew the saviors were once again 'visiting', but hadn't been aware that Negan had come with them.

He'd been rudely awaken by you vacuuming the rug directly in front of him.

Not that he hadn't then made some comment about 'going upstairs and getting cuddly under the covers'. You'd yelled that you couldn't hear him before deciding you wanted to try the vacuum against your hardwood floors next.

He never bothered taking anything of true use to you anymore, though. For one, it was due to the fact that his men had all but wiped out the whole of Alexandria the first time they'd come. But the most significant reason? The real one? The first time he'd met you, you'd been the only person to call him out on his bullshit straight-away. And with no fear, at that. Well, none that you clearly showed to him, at least.

He'd entered your neat and tidy little home, you emerging from the hall, doing your utmost to hide just how afraid you were as he looked you over for a moment.

"S'cuse me, doll, but," he leaned in toward you, despite being halfway across the room. "Your husband home?"

You crossed your arms over your chest out of a desperate attempt to hide your shaking hands. "I don't have one."

His brows raised then. He set himself on a barstool, setting Lucille atop your recently-cleaned countertop. "Really?" He asked with interest.

You hadn't replied. You'd simply opted for standing there instead, and staring. Afraid of saying the wrong thing.

"Not much for talking, huh? I like that in a woman," he said with a brilliant smile.

You briefly thought that perhaps he was just a male chauvinist. But that didn't seem...quite right to you. No. This behavior—it wasn't real. It was a defense. Just a façade. Right?

You walked over to the sink, starting on the dishes you'd left soaking overnight. You had a dishwasher, but pods for them were rationed. And, while Eugene had even taken a shot at it, he hadn't quite perfected the formula for them to not create kitchens full of suds just yet.

Negan watched you, taken aback by your lack of attention toward him. "Well, guess I'll just take myself on a trip upstairs and start lookin' through your-"

"Are you always like this?' You asked quietly, scrubbing a pan.

"Pardon me?" He asked, pretending to be curious as to what you meant.

"It's an act, right? Just a persona you've created to make yourself seem like someone other men might want to follow. To make yourself feel powerful."

A muscle in his jaw feathered. "Maybe this is just my natural form, darlin'."

You'd set the pan aside to dry on your dishrack, then you glanced at him over your shoulder. "I hardly believe you were...whoever this is before."

You felt tempted to start making guesses as to what, exactly, he did before the outbreak, but knew that was not a good idea.

"Think you know me?" He'd asked, voice a tad more serious.

The pot in your grip nearly slipped from it. Afraid of him hearing your voice shake, you'd instead merely shrugged.

He got down from the barstool, sliding Lucille off of the counter—you knew he'd just covered it in scratches—before coming to stand beside you. So close you could feel his body heat.

"Go ahead, take a guess. Try and read me."

You look up at him and he's looking down at you with an amused smirk.

Your next question catches him completely off-guard. "What happened to you?" You'd asked it barely above a whisper, brows furrowed.

His features shifted, his smile disappeared at the look of pity in your eyes when you gazed up at him. He leaned in close and it took everything in you not to step back and away from him. "You're on thin fuckin' ice, girl."

The two of you had stayed like that for awhile, him staring you down—you could swear he'd glanced at your lips, but it'd happened so quickly that you weren't sure—you doing your utmost to understand what the hell was wrong with him, until he'd finally turned his back to you, slamming your front door behind himself.

You felt lucky the small glass windows on it hadn't shattered from the force.

As Negan heads down the hall, he hears voices drifting down from upstairs. He tells himself that, if it turns out you're busy hosting male company, he won't care. But his hand still tightens around Lucille's grip, images of beating someone's face to a bloody pulp in his mind.

Heavy boots thump against the stairs, until he's reached the top step and sees Denise and Rosita standing on either side of the doorway to your bedroom. He nearly makes an inappropriate joke, until Tara leaves, walking past without even acknowledging him, as she wipes a tear from her cheek, going downstairs.

A heavy feeling settles into the pit of his stomach.

As he gets closer, Rosita blocks the doorway. She may be half his size, but she won't just let him in. Won't let him near you. Not while you're barely hanging on as it is.

"Get. Out." She spits at him.

He merely pushes her out of the way, not turning back as she shouts "Hey!".

Everything moves in slow-motion as he takes you in. Your emaciated form, the pallor of your skin which is covered in a rash, the sheen of sweat on your face, the shallow breaths escaping your lips, the rapid rise-and-fall of your chest, and your eyes as they keep opening and closing every few moments, your pupils seemingly dilated.

Denise walks over, checking your pulse, then glancing to the doorway—to Rosita—shaking her head.

"What's wrong with her?" Negan's voice—his tone as serious as anyone in Alexandria has ever heard it— breaks the silence.

"She's sick, pendejo," Rosita replies with vehmence.

He lets the insults slide. He has more pressing matters at-hand.

He shouldn't have waited so damn long to come visit you again.

Why had he waited so long?

He sits on the edge of your bed, gently, as if he's afraid any sudden movement may harm you. He looks at Denise, waiting for an answer.

"She went on a run a few days ago. She said she just...wanted to get outside...for whatever reason. Didn't seem like herself. And not long after coming back...she developed a rash, a fever, headache-"

She's interrupted by you doubling over the side of the bed and Negan quickly picks up the empty trash can you're aiming for, but all you manage to do is dry-heave.

Denise continues, arms crossed. "Vomiting—but because she can't keep anything down now, she refuses to eat. Hasn't done so in two days"

He sets the trash can back on the floor, smoothing hair away from where it's now stuck to your damp forehead.

"She has Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. She must've gotten bit by a tick. Something so small..." She trails off. "She doesn't have long left without medication."

Daryl, Rick, Michonne, Rosita, Abe, along with a few others, had torn apart what local pharmacies they could find, but the drug was scarce—nowhere to be found.

Negan turns back toward her. "What does she need?" He asks, tone harsh.

"Doxycycline. We used to keep it in-stock here."

"Why the hell don't you anymore?"

Rosita replies with a sneer. "Because your people took all of it!" She shouts, unable to hide her contempt for the man.

A pained look flashes across his features. He then turns back to you.

This was his fault.

If you died...your blood would be on his hands.

He won't let that happen.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, not caring if they see. As he pulls away, he sees that your eyes are now closed. "Just get some rest, sweetheart. I'll be back soon."

As he exits your room, he grabs Denise by the elbow. "Tell me what you need and I'll make sure you get it." He looks at her. "No strings attached."

Not that you'd ever know, but as you slowly recovered, Negan had been on a damn tear at the Sanctuary. Once he'd had the medication you so desperately needed delivered to Denise—along with anything else she asked after for you—he demanded to know, from his men, why they had taken so damn much, leaving you all with nothing to help yourselves with.

They'd told him it's what he had wanted—what he'd ordered. He really just wanted someone else to blame for you nearly losing your life over needing a damn antibiotic.

He'd gotten a lot of use out of Lucille against some walkers near the back fences for a couple of days.

He had delivered the medication himself, and watched as she began to administer treatment to you, even if you fought her at first, thinking she was trying to feed you again.

He'd had to—reluctantly—help hold you down as she practically forced the pills down your throat.

You'd stared at him wide-eyed and terrified, no sense of recognition in your gaze as you looked up at him. Something about that—you having no idea who he was—broke something small inside of him.

He'd merely muttered that he was trying to help. That you'd get better soon and this would all make sense. That it would all be okay soon.

He hadn't left until you'd fallen asleep once it was dark. Had nearly told Rosita to shove it when she'd come to check on you and saw him there at your bedside, watching over you.

After that night, Negan had to be away for a few days, tending to business elsewhere, even if he'd been chomping at the bit to get back to you.

When he finally came through Alexandria's gate, however, he'd pulled up right outside of your house, practically bounding up the steps to get up to your bedroom.

And when he did, his knees nearly gave out from the sense of utter relief that washed over him.

You were sitting up in bed, eating—a tray in your lap with vegetable soup and crackers on it, a glass full of juice next to it—your free hand holding a novel open as you read.

A natural flush now graced your cheeks, your rash all but gone, and you looked well-rested.

You set your book down, looking at him leaning in the doorway, a small smirk on his lips.

"See you're all better."

"I hear I have you to thank for it."

He'd merely shrugged, pulling the chair that'd been returned to its rightful spot across the room in front of your desk, around to the side of the bed once more.

He rested an ankle over a knee. "Just a bottle of pills."

"And food, water, juice, and anti-nausea-"

"Going to list off your whole damn inventory here?"

"All of that came from yours," you replied, taking a sip of your soup, licking your lips.

He tells himself seeing you do that does nothing for him.

He doesn't reply to that statement. Merely looks at the window across the room, then back to you. "Just glad you're recovering."

"Are you?" You take another sip.

His brows furrow. "Why would you ever think otherwise?"

You shrug. "You like to pretend you don't care about anything—not individuals, at least—so-"

"Maybe you're the exception," he states, completely serious.

You'd only ever seen him so deadpan one other time.

He'd come over late, the sun just beginning to set.

You'd been sitting at your dining room table, pushing food around your plate, lost inside your head. You hadn't even noticed he was inside your house until he sat down across from you. "Not gonna make me a plate?" He asked, leaning back.

You hadn't even looked at him.

Instead, your features had darkened, and you'd retreated further inside yourself.

He'd known by the look in your eyes that something was deeply wrong.

He'd leaned toward you then, forearms resting upon the table. "Talk to me, Y/N. What happened?"

"Go away," you'd said quietly, but firmly.

Leaving you alone like that was the last thing he intended to do.

"And leave you to brood all on your lonesome? Not likely."

A tear slipped from your eye and you'd quickly wiped it away in irritation. "I don't want you here."

His lip had twitched. "Join the club."

The both of you had been quiet for a moment until he'd spoken again. "Listen, I don't know if it's something that happened today, or a long time ago, but I'll listen if you-"

You'd picked up your plate then, stood—your chair scraping against the floor—before smashing it on the ground.

You sat back down, slumping forward, elbows resting on the tabletop, burying your face in your hands as you began to cry.

He'd stood after a moment, walking over to the record player in your living room, browsing your selection of music until he settled on a particular song.

He'd walked back over, shrugging off his leather jacket before holding out his hand toward you. "Dance with me."

You'd quieted, looking up at him, giving him a look like he was insane. "What?"

"Give me your hand."

Instead of waiting for an answer, he'd reached down, sliding his palm against yours, pulling you up from your seat.

Just as he'd gotten you halfway to the living room, you'd pulled your hand free from his.

He'd turned back to you, but you'd merely began beating your fists against his chest. And he let you. Let you push him, slap and punch. He could take it. Wanted to if it made you feel better—by any extent.

Until, finally, you'd calmed enough that he pulled you against him, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you swayed back and forth.

You'd cried against his chest, small sobs wracking through your body as Sam Cooke sang about wanting to marry and take someone home.

Finally, you reply to Negan's comment about you being an exception to him.

"I bet you tell that to all your girls."

"No. Because none of them are."

The two of you sit in silence as you finish eating, him taking your tray as you lie back down to rest.

You swear you hear him say something quietly about missing you as he stands in the doorway—about to head back downstairs—but you don't catch it as you fall off to sleep.

[cherryfennec]

what are some of your favorite Super Paper Mario headcanons?

I wasn't sure how specific you'd want those to be but I tried to think of a few that I personally enjoy/tend to apply myself!Includes spoilers.

Some general headcanons:

SPM takes longer than than a day/few days (maybe about a month or two)

Flipping into 3D is a nauseating experience and it takes time to fully adjust to it (especially for Mario, he never really managed to get over it).

Pure Hearts emit a comforting aura, a sense of warmth and calm, while the Chaos Heart feels like a thousand voices are whispering in your ear.

Some character specific headcanons:

Mario finds himself confused and lost more than he ever did in his life during this adventure. His usual confidence and grounded attitude are shaky because almost everything in these other worlds makes no sense to him, which is rather frustrating, especially at the beginning of his journey where he's completely surrounded by strangers and forced into the hero role. (Seriously, Mario couldn't even go home if he wanted to because he's stuck not on an island but between dimentions where he was TELEPORTED IN. There isn't really a door that leads to the Mushroom Kingdom.)

Peach's parasol is hardened by steel and enhanced by magic with a sharp tip at the end. She changed her heels to something more comfortable on the Flipside and put her hair up so it doesn't get in the way during travel and unavoidable combat.

Bowser takes his 'marriage' very seriously. He cares more about Peach than Mario in the team so when she's trouble he'll dash to assist her (he can run when he really wants to huh), but if the red plumber's in trouble he'll pretend to not see it or brush it off. (unless his lovely wife nags him about it).

Luigi, after landing is the Underwhere, finds lots of stuff in his pockets that he doesn't remember squirreling away like firecrackers, bolts and a small screwdriver. He is in fact very confused.

Count Bleck isn't very emotional. Most of the time he only has one, sad and dull expression. Any type of larger emotion showing through means that you've REALLY pushed it to the extreme.

The minions know the kind person that the Count is deep at heart so they're not put off by his frown, except for Mr.L. A default reaction that the brainwashed soldiers get as a 'bonus' from Nastasia is the highest respect for the Count, yes, but also fear of him. The fear ensures that they are most obedient but it's more of a failsafe than anything. You can imagine how it looks when Mr.L, an exploding and tempered personality, runs around the castle causing havoc like a brat and then suddenly just FREEZES on the spot at the sight of Bleck.

On the topic of the quirks of Nastasias ability, usually a person only needs to be brainwashed once. HOWEVER due to a certain someone who likes to provoke the man in green and his subconscious she is required to sometimes strengthen the control on Mr.L as she doesn't trust the magician with keeping his mouth shut. At one point she directly orders L to actively stay away from the jester, even forcing him to follow her around when she works.

Dimentios poncho and hat are covered in glitter and his mask is porcelain-esque, also the idea of him being the "son of the magician". I just think this theory is quite fitting and I like the thought of him being actually 3000 years old. He's not very popular at the castle but everyone has a silent agreement to not bother him. He however bothers everyone and likes to stare. When he's intrigued he tends to tilt his head slightly.

Mimi enjoys designing clothes and tries to give fashion advice to her teammates (to absolutely no avail because who cares we're literally ending the world, we're evil and depressed blehhhh). She and Dimentio have an 'annoying sibling' dynamic and she wouldn't hold back against him in battle at all for all the times he's messed with her. She also enjoys filing her nails to be super sharp.

Nastasia is a very strict person who takes her duties seriously but she does have a side for fun. You just need to search for it a little.

O'Chunks likes to spar with Mr.L in his free time. Mr.L is in general one of the few people he can do this with since Mimi says that 'she doesn't want to ruin her dress over such a stupid thing' and Dimentio always finds an excuse or simply dissapears.

Post SPM headcanons:

There is little conflict with the neighbouring kingdoms after the void incident. Peach, Mario and Luigi use that free time to have fun and just relax after everything that happened. They need eachothers support for the time being.

'Team Bleck' still meets up often after everything and hangs out. They don't necessarily talk about the Count but it's nice knowing that there are other people who understand what you're feeling right now. *They've been trying to have a full group reunion with Luigi included for some time now. Things are a bit awkward among them but it's still nice when he agrees to come along.

Luigi inherits some of Dimentios mannerisms which shine through from time to time such as laughing patterns, hand gestures and a rather malicious looking grin... A bit more unrelated and physical change is that his hair tends to turn white when he's around strong sources of power. (Dream Stone and Dark Star levels kind of powerful ykyk maybe Super Star as well or stardust in general cause star child origins) and the eyes somewhat darken.

He's also never really informed about the specifics of his Mr.L and Super Dimentio arc. Mario doesn't really want to burden his brother with something that was in the past and not a necessary in his eyes knowledge since it wasn't truly him.

The Chaos Heart isn't completely gone. It rests, slowly regaining power within it's host, accumulating all the scattered fragments like puzzle pieces. Try all you want but you can never fully get rid of chaos, it's an inescapable force.

I might gather up some more another time but I'd say that's it for now! You might've already heard some of these before but I hope it was at least a good read.

[penny-anna]

i have other things to do but here we gooooo owl house fic recs:

Autism to Autism Communication by Polyhexian

"I understand sarcasm," Hunter said, sounding offended. He crossed his arms. "You didn't do the voice thing." Darius stared at him. "The what?" Hunter put his arms in the air and gave his hands a sarcastic little wave. "I GuEsS I'LL hAvE tO sToP cOmInG oVeR, tHeN," he said in the most over the top and comical parody of sarcasm that Darius had ever heard in his life.

everything by this author is great & this one is a joy and a delight!!

Extant Species by Polyhexian

She'd been called a monster more times than she could count, but she knew what a real monster looked like.

i'd happily rec a bunch of polyhexian's stuff but this lil vee & hunter fic was a highlight. especially enjoy the part where hunter's advising her on how best to go about murdering him. love that for them both!!

Owlet by Polyhexian

"Eda!" Hunter yelled as he shouldered open the door and Hooty cooed and rambled at him, "I need help with my potions homewooooooaaaat the HELL is that?!" Luz looked up from where she was sitting on the couch and reading what appeared to be a romance novel about werewolves. "What is what?" "That!" he yelled, pointing at the hulking behemoth curled up in the middle of the room in a massive pile of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals. "Is that the owl beast?!"

& 1 more!! short n sweet n cute

With Clay and Star Scraps by SiryyGray

Hunter decided to do some research into Grimwalkers. First discovery: Grimwalkers were outlawed in every city under every rule as far back as the history books go. Second discovery: Grimwalkers have no natural means of death. Third discovery: there’s a caveat to that second one.

some absolutely brutal grimwalker content. SPOILERS: hunter can't outlive belos.

Intrusion by rayrock

'He drops something in. It moves and writhes, but it is clearly exhausted. “Eat,” is all he says, voice barely above a whisper. But it is a demand nonetheless, intimidating enough to send shivers down her spine. She hisses in protest once more. He tucks the notepad and pen into his cloak and pulls out a staff. It unfolds and glows a bright red. He does not say anything more. He is nearly always silent when she sees him.' Or: Vee and the Golden Guard’s relationship is complicated, but it is there

some more vee & hunter content for you

just a little bit left by prodigalDaughter

The first time Darius had seen the new Guard unmasked, the fury and betrayal had risen in him like floodwater, bubbling and steaming out of creeks and sewers. Creed had never told him he had a son. —— Hunter has discovered what he is, but he’s not the only one who has to grapple with assumptions made about his origins.

hey remember the other day when i was talking about 'what if darius thought hunter was the previous golden guard's son'! well here u go someone wrote that fic

Wild and Wandering Cries by PorcelanaRota

So his uncle goes flying into the wall directly above him and he is unable to dodge. And his uncle, who is now more palisman curse slime than he is flesh and blood, splatters on the wall, on the ground, on him. Hunter’s been in hundreds of life-or-death situations. He’s felt real and true and visceral fear that sank into his bones and marinated into terror more times than not. Still, nothing has ever left him so shocked and horrified and just flat-out scared that time has actually stopped.

belos splash zone? belos splash zone.

mistakes (the thrilling saga, in high definition) by quynnyah

"This," Amity says, "is not normal human behavior." (Or: Amity and Hunter volunteer to help Camila on a grocery trip. It goes about as well as expected.)

some banging amity & hunter in the human realm stuff for u

Notched by angelcloves

Belos removes the ear tag from his newest Grimwalker.

tiny wee fic giving a backstory for Hunter's notched ear. i rotate this concept in my brain all the time. absolutely twisted.

There is no open window, but the floors still creep by theprincessofdenial

On Tuesday, they eat Chinese. On Wednesday, Camila once again doesn’t have the time to cook, so pizza it is. On Thursday, she wants to make a proper dinner but there’s a hold up at the clinic, Luz knocks over a shelf, Willow has a wardrobe emergency, and then Amity’s cat goes missing. And Hunter beats Gus up so badly the boy ends up bleeding, so there’s also that.

hgnnnh i would rec this entire series if i could (it's 14 fics totally 200k total). its all so chewy i want to get my teeth into it and rrrrrrrrrr. ANYWAY this is my no 1 fav i've been back and re-read it about 7 times. love the Camila Noceda POV; the way it captures the chaos of all 6 kids in the house and makes it feel so real & vivid; the absolutely brutal Hunter characterisation. if ur a Hunter fan go read this right away.

Distance by theprincessofdenial

For the first minute, they all just stand there in silence and watch the airship slowly disappear beyond the horizon. Even though they’re supposed to react quickly, the cold still comes as a shock. It takes some time for the reality to settle in and for them to realize how useless everything they have brought is going to be when their marrow freezes. Hunter hears some of the Scouts inhaling sharply after they approach the ledge and look down. They turn around, unsure where to start, and they shuffle their feet in the snow (terrible decision, really, this way their boots are going to get wet even quicker). Hunter’s the first one to break the silence, and oh, he does it with style. He has been rehearsing that line for a week. “See you at the bottom, suckers!” he exclaims as he pulls out the staff and disappears in a flash of red light. (or: The Obligatory "Leave Everyone at the Top of the Mountain and See Who Makes It Back to the Bottom Alive" Fic. With a splash of Steve)

2nd rec from this series. exactly what it says on tin. *banging pots together* you like whump come get your whump i ADORE what this author does w Hunter. also Steve is there (whump for Steve!!)

A Potter's Field by theprincessofdenial

The view from the staircase is, well, not stunning, that’s definitely not the word. It’s just that “view” is supposed to be accompanied by “stunning,” and Luz can feel her brain coming to a screeching halt and refusing to process what they’re seeing. It's skeletons. Come on, they both knew it was going to be skeletons. The entire Isles know at this point. (Or: despite what the stories would have you believe, in the aftermath, there are things to deal with. Those things include ruined infrastructure, electing new leaders, and prosecuting those responsible for the old regime. And apparently, also Grimwalker mass graves.)

& third and final. unbelievably chewy post-canon fic. lets get into the reconstruction of the isles in full detail. goes hard as hell. will sit in my brain for a long time i think. cannot rec this enough.

and rats all for now!! i got a bunch more stuff in my 'marked for later' so watch this space

[writeroutoftime]

I literally love Jamie so much 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 saw your post asking for stuff for Jamie and after mom city all I can think about is Jamie bring reader to meet his mum in Manchester; she just absolutely fawns over the first girl he’s ever brought home 🥲

pairing: jamie tart x reader (no pronouns used)

words: 1k

a/n: mom city was such an amazing look into jamie's character, and I loved it so so much!! and we all know jamie's mum would love to get to know anyone that he brings home!! please enjoy, lovely!

oOoOo

Hand in hand with Jamie you made your way down the residential street, your heart pounding faster and faster the close you got. It was not lost on you how monumental it was that Jamie had asked you to come and meet his mum and her husband. You knew how much Jamie adored his mother, and it warmed your heart to know Jamie wanted these two parts of his world to collide.

Just as Jamie reached to open the door, your hand shot out and grabbed him, suddenly frozen with fear. "Hey, what's up, love?"

"It's just, what if she hates me, Jamie? I mean your mum means so much to you, and I don't want to be the person who comes between that. And then," you began to ramble until Jamie cut you off.

He gently placed his hands on your cheeks and stared directly into your eyes. "My mum's gonna love you, okay? I promise there is nothing to worry about. In fact, she's been bugging me to bring you 'round for quite a while now."

You smiled as his words washed over you and let your eyes flutter closed for a moment. The warmth of Jamie's hand and the sincerity of his words helped you to take a breath and relax. When you opened your eyes again, you nodded and allowed Jamie to ring the doorbell.

There was barely a moment delay before the door swung open to reveal a man who beamed at you and Jamie. "Oh, welcome! You must y/n, I'm Simon." he introduced, pulling the oven mitts of his hands to shake your hand.

He ushered you and Jamie inside, shutting the door behind you, giving Jamie a quick hug. Immediately, you were struck by how warm the house felt. Not necessarily in temperature, but by the greeting, and the way you can tell the house was truly one that was lived in and experienced love.

You began to stroll through the halls of the home and took everything in with a soft smile on your face. From the wallpaper, to the pictures, and the other decorations scatter about, they all offered you a glimpse into what it must have been like for Jamie growing up.

Eventually, you wandered into the living room where it was near impossible to miss the display of Jamie's photos that lined the table against the wall. Your eyes briefly caught some of his more recent photographs of his time at Richmond, but you gravitated towards the pictures that showed you Jamie as he was growing up.

You carefully picked up a particular photo where Jamie couldn't have been more than eight or nine. His smile was infectious, and you could see the stars in his eyes as he was doing what he loved. Before you could grab another photo, you heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Jamie's mum watching you intently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry, I just couldn't help myself." you rushed to explain, not wanting to upset Jamie's mum before you had been properly introduced. "I just love seeing him so carefree in these photos."

Instead of responding, she moved forward and threw her arms around you, hugging you quite tightly. "I do too." she confessed, before pulling back to get a good look at you. "Oh, it's so lovely to finally meet you! Call me, Georgie." she insisted. "Jamie's been going on and on about you. It's so nice to finally meet you!" she gushed, ushering you to sit down.

"Mum." a voice whined from the entry to the living room, but Jamie had a small on his face that gave away his joy.

He walked into the room and sat next to his mum, leaning into her touch. You watched as Jamie melted against her, closing his eyes as she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

The time seemed to fly by as the four of you shared stories, laughed, and came together under your shared love for Jamie. The amount of stories Georgie shared with you of Jamie growing up were something you knew you'd never forget.

"I swear," she started, already laughing. "he told me he wanted to dress up as Roy Kent for Halloween."

You fell to the side of the couch, clutching your stomach, as you couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, that's just too good. Jamie, wait 'till Roy gets a load of that."

"Eh, he won't be hearing that from anyone. What happens in this room stays in this room." he tried to argue through the red blush that spread across his cheeks.

Before you knew it, you and Jamie had been with his family for hours and the sun had long set. With an early start for Jamie the next morning, the two of you began to collect your things and said goodbye. Simon offered you a hug goodbye, and you made sure he knew how wonderful all of his food was as you began to walk outside.

You watched from a distance with a smile on your face as Jamie said goodbye to his mother. It might have shocked many people to watch how soft and sincere he was with her, but it didn't surprise you in the least. Deep down, Jamie always was a sweetheart. He showed you that side, and now you got to see him demonstrate that with his mum.

With one last kiss to her cheek, Jamie pulled away and walked to you, quickly grabbing hold of your hand. "Ready to go, love?"

As you opened your mouth to respond, you bit your lip instead and gave Jamie a one second sign before running back to where Simon and Georgie stood near their front door. Nervously, you slowed down in front of Georgie and threw your arms around her tightly.

"Thank you." you spoke so only she could ear.

She pulled back and cocked her head to the side with a slight smile - similar to what you'd seen Jamie do so many times before. "What for, dear?"

You chanced a glance back and your boyfriend. "For raising a wonderful son."

Georgie looked at you, eyes welling up with tears. "You keep looking out for him for me, okay? I know you're doing so much good for him." she told you, sending you off with a smile when you nodded your head.

Together, you and Jamie offered one final wave to Georgie and Simon, walking off hand in hand - your relationship just a little bit stronger than when you first arrived.

[litfeathers]

Before Hunter's Palisman Observations... Before Lilith's Letter... Before Luz's Diary Entry...

A witch's quill scratches on paper, her eyebrows furrowing in thought as she fills a well-worn book with her thoughts and desires and fears.

She smiles at the yellow bird who is fast asleep on her extra pillow, and with a snap of her fingers extinguishes the light spells that had been illuminating her cozy bedroom.

She sleeps.

She dreams…

She dreams of a strange world. A world without magic. A harsh world of rules, and penance, and fear.

A man stands in front of a bonfire, the glow of the firelight dancing on his wild blond hair. He is surrounded by a screaming crowd, torches and pitchforks and fists waving in the air.

"No," she begs. "No, no, no, no."

She calls his name over the cacophony of violent chanting, her voice muffled by the roar of the growing conflagration.

He turns.

She screams.

Blood. Smoke. Fire. The flash of a knife. It all happens too fast.

He is gone.

...and she wakes up.

Welcome to Evelyn's Journal.

Credits: -The phenomenal cover art was drawn by the absolute legend @bananadramaaa. Thank you so much for your help! -The script and Evelyn's voice were written and recorded by Birdie (that's me!) -It's probably pretty obvious, but this project was directly inspired by the audio recordings a few of TOH's VAs did for one of Dana's charity livestreams. Look them up if you have never heard them. They are fantastic!

The audio and script will also be available at AO3 on (or some time after) Sunday, March 26th. You may find it at litfeathers if you would like to give this project some love over there too!

The complete script can be found under the read more, so you may follow along if you wish.

Grab a snack and get comfy. We have an almost 15 minute runtime! Enjoy! 🔥🪶

Scaburary 10th

I had to cover for Bileadona at work. She never showed up for her shift, and so Goldie and I were forced to make an unexpected trip to Bonesborough.

Extra disappointing, since I was planning to spend the afternoon in the garden with my sketchbook. I wanted to redo my blue jay drawing, as I am not quite satisfied with it.

Ah, well. I’ll draw in the garden tomorrow.

Scaburary 11th

UUUGHHH DAMN RAIN!

Goldie has been moping and staring out the window at the sizzling forest all morning, desperately wishing she could have her early morning flight through the trees. I have given her a handful of seeds to help her feel better. She seems pouty still, but has cheered up slightly. She is currently ordering the seeds from most to least appealing. Heh. This should take her a while.

Only two days are left!

Scaburary 13th

Work, work, work. I couldn’t stop watching the sunlight and shadows slowly move across the library floor and sighing impatiently. Bileadona happened by my cart as I was shelving books, and asked why the calendar at my desk is so strange. I told her it was an old-fashioned solar calendar from the bloodievil period. She didn’t seem to buy it, but didn’t push the subject.

I also made a quick…detour before I went home. Just to say hello to some dear friends. Some very special friends who are going to severely regret their actions from last week.

*evil witch cackle*

As an added bonus, I finally managed to nab one of their…creative drawings of me. It is now proudly displayed on my living room wall, just above the couch. Truly, it is a work of art, and I am humbled by their kindness.

I just hope they find my return offering just as humbling ehehehehe.

I have been getting more and more excited for every visit to the Human Realm. Not that I have been there recently. I most definitely have not. Don’t be absurd.

But anyway. This week has dragged endlessly! I cannot wait for tomorrow.

It’s nice to have a friend.

Scaburary 14th, Human Realm year 1623

Today was nice.

It was a Friday in Human reckoning, so Caleb and I enjoyed the usual supper on a blanket in the snowy woods. I made sure to include dragon bacon sandwiches and deviled griffin stew in the spread, as they are his favorites. And of course, a thermos of hot apple blood to warm us up. It was a marvelous feast!

He looks a bit better lately. His skin is less pale, and the shadows under his eyes are less prominent.

The moment I landed at at our spot, Caleb immediately asked me if I had anything to do with the recent vandalism of the Gravesfield meetinghouse. I plead innocent. He grimly informed me that someone had scribbled all over the siding, and that one of the drawings bore a striking resemblance to Goldie. I expressed my deepest sympathies for the poor soul who would have to clean it up. He further informed me that the words “Evie was here” were scrawled over the front door. I told him that since my given name isn’t Evie, it’s Evelyn, he was clearly looking for another culprit. He grabbed me by the shoulders, looked me dead in the eye, and told me, in the most fed-up of tones, that the drawings could move.

“Huh,” I said. “In that case, it sounds like you might have a witch on your hands. I hear they are pretty tricky to deal with, but seeing as you are such an expert witch hunter, you surely won’t have a problem rooting her out!”

At that he made such a ridiculously frustrated face, I could no longer hold in my laughter. It was the look he gets where his cheeks flush and his nose flares. The red even reached his ears this time! Fantastic.

He gave up at that point. He just sighed deeply and shook his head. But I could tell he was desperately trying to hold back a smile.

While we enjoyed our meal, we got on the topic of weather. After my previous deception, he didn’t quite believe me when I told him that rain boils in the Demon Realm. When I cast an illusion to show him a typical Boiling Isles thunderstorm, his eyes lit up brighter than the sun. As fun as it is to tease and banter with him, I think I vastly prefer those quiet moments between us. When the storm clouds lift from his eyes.

*trails off*

I can tell he’s lonely.

Last week, while we were on our owl watch, he mentioned offhandedly that he hasn’t received a proper hug in years.

I was about to feign ignorance and pretend to not know what a hug is, until I realized that…err. Well, we are two galdorpeas in a pod in that regard, aren’t we?

And no, I did not offer myself up. Because some walls are built for a reason.

Caleb is surrounded by pitchforks and torches and prying eyes.

His village is dangerous.

His brother has been asking more and more…questions.

I know I shouldn’t keep doing this. I know I can’t keep doing this. There is a line, and I am terrified that I am gleefully dancing towards it, and one day I am going to be unable to stop myself from crossing into something…

*deep sigh*

…something I cannot come back from.

I am unwilling to admit this anywhere but here. And this is difficult to write, even if my eyes are the only ones that will ever read it. But…

He scares me.

Hah! How silly is that? We’re the closest of friends. I am a powerful adult witch. And I am scared of him?

It makes no sense. Witch hunter my butt! I trust him completely. He is kind. Sweet, even. No matter how much sass and grumpiness he sprinkles into his words, it is abundantly clear that his heart is made of pure gold. His smile could melt snow. His soft words could tame the wildest slitherbeast. His laugh is pure music.

*embarrassed cough*

So, then. Why the fear? Why have I been finding myself so on edge around him lately? It’s incredibly frustrating.

Words are difficult to get out. My pulse quickens when he sits too close. I can no longer look him in the eye without my face heating up. What else could cause this but fear? It is clearly my body warning me that what I am doing is incredibly foolish.

Or perhaps it’s just the apple blood.

*sighs in frustration, then there is a long moment of silence*

No. I’m not that naive. I know it’s not the apple blood. It’s just that…I’m…

I’m not ready.

I don’t have much more I would like to say on this topic, so I suppose I shall end this entry and tuck myself into bed with a good book. Perhaps Goldie would like for me to read her another story.

Here’s hoping for some nice dreams. Titan willing.

Goodnight.

Scaburary 15th

I had the day off from work. I tried to draw in the garden, but my redo of the blue jay sketch came out even worse than the original. I ended up spending most of my day on the couch, half paying attention to a book I could barely focus on enough to read.

I had dreams last night. Dreams I absolutely refuse to relive by writing them down.

Please. Please, please, please let tonight be better.

Scaburary 16th

Oh, Titan. I hate this.

I have made a decision. A decision I am absolutely miserable to be making.

It’s something I can absolutely not back out on. Something I should have done ages ago.

Something I should have done before I got…attached.

No matter what, this will end in pain. But it must end. Before he is harmed. Or worse. I know what I must do. But it hurts. I have to protect him. This week will be rough. Please wish me luck and courage.

Scaburary 17th My chest hurts. My eyes are sore. Everyone has been giving me space at work. I am sure they can tell something is very wrong, but no one has pried. At least I managed to keep it together until I was halfway home. Be proud of my fortitude.

After I was done being sorry for myself, I got an idea. I am unsure if I will be able to follow through with my plan. But if I can find my courage, perhaps I can at least try.

When we say our goodbyes, I can at least ensure Caleb still has a friend.

I haven’t carved a palisman in years. Not since I made Goldie with Mother and Father. And not since they…

*chokes up for a second*

I don’t even know if I remember how. But there is a grove of healthy palistrom trees in the backyard. And I still have my knife.

I even know what he would want.

Fine. Tomorrow I will start carving.

Scaburary 18th I opened my journal to write, but I have nothing substantial to say. This week has been miserable. I wish it were Friday so I could get this over with. Goldie keeps offering me seeds to cheer me up. I’m sorry, Goldie. I appreciate the gesture, but not everything can be fixed with a tasty seed.

Scaburary 19th I sent Goldie to deliver my final rebus message. I got such an excited response back, I nearly lost it again. He has heard a saw-whet owl in the woods by the fields. He wants to take me out there to listen for it. Sounds lovely. I suppose it’s nice to look forward to one last owl watch. What should I do with the remaining Titan’s blood? Dispose of it? Donate it to a researcher? All I know is that I cannot keep the vials. Lest I be…tempted. I’ll miss the birds. Caleb’s gift is drying on the kitchen table. I wonder what wish he will make.

Scaburary 20th I am surprisingly calm. There is something to be said for allowing yourself to…feel. To let your emotions exist, acknowledge them, let them out. That isn’t typically how I operate, but perhaps it can be advantageous to…sometimes…occasionally…not bury everything? As much as I hate to admit it. I was even able to laugh at Goldie’s antics. She brought home a rattle worm and pretended to feed it to our new scarlet friend. She even feigned offense when he refused her gift by remaining silent and wooden. Silly bird! I don’t know what I would ever do without her. I think I will be fine. Once the dust settles. We will all be fine.

Scaburary 22nd I do not know where to start. It is late evening. I am sitting here in bed, journal in lap, as usual. But Goldie is perched on my shoulder instead of her usual spot on my extra pillow. Because my extra pillow is occupied. It is occupied by a blond human and a small red bird. Oh. He just reached out in his sleep to hug my waist. I suppose I’m trapped now. I’ve never been so happy. I’ve never been so happy, and yet so anxious? I can’t stop smiling. I don’t think I’ve stopped smiling or swooning or giggling since last night! How embarrassing. How completely and utterly embarrassing! ...Goldie, I know you are reading this. I can hear you laughing! Quit it! I think I’m still in a bit of shock-GOLDIE THIS IS PRIVATE. I haven’t quite processed any of this-I KNOW YOU CAN FEEL MY EMOTIONS AND HEAR MY THOUGHTS! I DON’T CARE! YOU’RE STILL BEING NOSY. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE WERE BOTH SO OBVIOUS? I SAID STOP LAUGHING!!! Fine. You were right. Is that what you wished to hear? Are you happy now, you smug little feather brain? Good. Anyway. Where was I? Everything happened so…fast. The last 24 hours have been absolutely wild. And terrifying. And…intense. But I think I can finally admit something important, even if it’s only here for now. Let’s see if I can manage to actually write it. Goodness, my hand is shaking. Alright. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. Here goes… *swoons a little* I’m in love. Goodnight, everyone. Sweet dreams. *snaps fingers, and light spells are extinguished* Sung: You are not alone No matter how far you have flown Together we feel we’re at home In darkness light shines in your bones *As she hums the song fades out*

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Good afternoon. 1500 subscribers is not the limit, in any case, congratulations. Would like to make an Ei request and number 10

“Are you… flirting with me?”

Characters: Ei x gn!reader

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: Ei is the perfect character for this prompt. She's direct while being also being almost completely oblivious, so thanks a lot for requesting her!

Also, thanks for the congratulations!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Ei

Even Ei, a god that had little to no contact with the world for centuries and was almost completely out of touch with her subjects' lives could tell something was off with you. Most Inazumans revered her in a way that bordered on fear. Truly viewing her as their almighty god who was not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary, the administration of her Raiden Shogun puppet not exactly doing wonders representing her real self.

And yet, you didn’t seem to care about all of that in the slightest, showing not the slightest hint of fear when talking to her while acting the same way you did around everyone else. It was refreshing, and so she quickly grew accustomed to your presence, not exactly yearning for your companionship but reveling in it. Yet, it wasn’t long until Ei was pulled to the side by Yae, her friend all too eager to give her an introductionary lecture in Human Feelings 101.

“Are you… flirting with me?”, Ei’s voice interrupted your sentence, causing you to immediately grow silent in shock, your face growing slightly pale before heating up, her eyes filled with curiosity as she slightly tilted her head, staring holes into your face. 

Your behavior seemed to be an almost perfect match to what Yae had described to her and you having feelings for her would explain your excitement when talking to her. Yet, it was still her Kitsune friend, so her lying simply to exploit Ei’s inexperience for some easy amusement wasn’t entirely out of the question, which was why she decided to ask you directly, seeing little harm in it.

“W-what?”, you barely managed to stutter out, trying your best to regain your composure as your mind was filled with question after question. You faintly registered Ei’s voice, the archon going over what made her come to her conclusion, talking as if nothing noteworthy had happened, only for you to only half-heartedly listen along, her voice being drown out by your panicking inner dialogue.

Were you flirting with her? Maybe? You didn’t exactly mean to, but looking at what you said and did in retrospect made it difficult not to think that. 

Did you even have feelings for her in the first place? …Who were you kidding? You couldn’t lie to yourself and pretend as if you didn’t, but you had been perfectly fine with shutting up about them and enjoying your time with Ei no matter what, even if your relationship was completely platonic.

“If those are the real nature of your feelings, then I accept”, she eventually ended her speech, causing your eyes to widen in surprise as you looked back at her, your face now completely red. Ei on the other hand, didn’t show a hint of embarrassment, each and every single of her words carefully picked, only for a worried look to suddenly find its way onto her face.

“Or was I wrong to assume that you have feelings for me?”, she asked, only to once again light up when you shook your head in response, the possibility of your voice cracking being far too high for you to dare and try to respond verbally.

When you once again looked at her face, you were greeted with a smile sweeter than any of the desert she bought for the two of you, a fond look in her eyes as she finally spoke up once again. 

“I’ll be in your care then.”

[hemipenal-system]

this thread is fucking long and the cut is in an awkward place just bear with it please

so werewolves are a stock horror villain (and the posts directly below this one are about that! go look at them) and don’t get me wrong i love werewolf horrorsmut but i want to see more of:

werewolves who just aren’t scary in any way. like sure the shift may be scary. they may look kinda scary. but they’re just people like everyone else even if they are more ruled by instinct than the average human. i think stuff like that is a nice way to explore what it means to be a person and how humanity can be a fluid category, especially when the werewolves in question are transgender/disabled/personality disorder coded.

like i want some wholesome shit about werewolves who can’t even pass as ambiguously human. they’re just very overtly werewolves: massive sharp, snarling bundles of taut muscles and sinew, 8, 9 feet tall, who are very capable of snapping and killing everything around them

but don’t. because they’re treated well and loved even though they’re not like everyone else. and it doesn’t matter that they aren’t, because they are like everyone else even if they’re not. i know that sounds a bit confusing on the face but i mean stuff like:

- “oh yeah no worries, Sharon from accounting’s a wolf too! no no we love her! remember when we went to topgolf for that company outing? they couldn’t find any clubs in her size so she outdrove us all with clubs a foot too short it was hysterical!”

- “all right you should be scheduled for this week! next two weeks are the same? no right of course not because you need moon days. yeah that’s totally fine i will get that in to HR and you should be all good!”

- “is- no it’s fine- is it ok if i stay shifted in here? the pain is less bad when i’m shifted. no i have no idea why lol. you’re sure? the shedding is ok and everything? aww sweetie i love you too!”

- “i mean, hip dysplasia is normal in wolves your age, and you had fairly active teenage years, so it happens. it’s not anything to worry about though, i’ll get you in contact with a fantastic physical therapist! no she specializes in wolf patients. she’s great at what she does, i promise. i’ll get you a month of painkillers but over-the-counter should work alright too. take these, go to therapy, and if it’s still doing that in a month come back and we can try something else.”

- “hey, baby, look at me. i know people are staring at you. you don’t need to care about them. you have just as much right to be here as they do. just ignore them.”

- “no i’m absolutely not mad at you! you can’t control that happening! no it was a full moon what the fuck were you supposed to do? look, i can replace the couch you mauled and the TV and vases you broke but i can’t replace you getting hurt because you tried to stave off the shift. we’ll go shopping for new ones together, ok? and we’ll get some cheap shit you can break for next month and a couple steaks for you to fuck up. i promise i’m not mad- hey get off me you big lug stop fucking licking me your mouth tastes like couch cushions…”

- “it’s actually so real to be worried about hurting your human partner in bed. you won’t hurt her, dude, i’ve known her for years you should be more scared of her than she is of you. they make, like, these rings. it’s like a silicone spacer- no it goes on your dick, idiot. it’s so you don’t like fuck into her cervix or whatever. supposedly those help? idk if they come in wolf sizes though.”

show me the negative stuff, too. show me:

- werewolves who muzzle themselves in cities even though it’s only a first quarter moon because they’re scared they’ll snap and hurt someone even though that fear makes them so careful around everyone they never would

- wolves who have moon trackers on their phone because they need to know when they’re going to get forced into a shift so they can get away from everyone because they don’t want to get violent but they can’t control it and the last time they were around someone she ended up in the hospital. she’s really understanding about it and they’re friends now but it doesn’t make it feel any less horrible

- wolves who get asked every single fucking time they get nice dinner, “so do you want your steak cooked, or what?” by waiters who think they’re funny but really aren’t

- werewolves who walk on eggshells in public because they know if they make any minor mistake or show any aggression whatsoever the pundits on the news will talk about “a werewolf snarled at my kid today. i mean i try to be trusting but you never know with those people. they have those fangs for a reason is all i’m saying.”

- werewolves who are scared to shift in public for the same reason as above, because they know how they’ll be perceived if they show people they’re a wolf

- werewolves who can’t find wolf doctors in their area so they keep going back to human doctors who don’t know how the fuck to treat their unique health conditions and when they complain about this they get a flippant “have you tried a veterinarian?”

- werewolves in therapy because their last relationship was with a human who sucked and it was really bad and that trauma has manifested as resource guarding and reactivity issues and it’s causing problems at work

i love this stuff. i want more. i also cannot write conclusion paragraphs to save my life so this is the end now. thanks for reading all this if you’re reading this.

😊

[seeingivy]

airplane seats 

eren jeager x gn!reader 

in which, you begrudgingly accept help from eren, a bottle of pills, and a gay couple sitting next to you with your flying anxiety. 

content: flying anxiety, pills, erwin + levi being nosy asf, a very concerned eren :D 

- 

The seven of you stand huddled at the airport gate, your tickets shooting out of the machine. As you grab the papers, still warm from exiting the printer, you groan at the seat numbers. Everyone managed to snag seats together except for you. 

The seven of you move towards the gate, Connie reassuring you that at least you ended up with an aisle seat, meaning you’re free to escape and jump off the plane when you get too nervous. You prod your fingers into his forehead, rolling your eyes at his words. 

Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. You’re no stranger to being surrounded by the uncomfortable and at times, you even welcome it. However, your deathly fear of airplanes was never something you were never going to embrace. To make matters worse, being separated from your friends and seated with absolute strangers did nothing to make the situation better. 

Sasha buys you condolence snacks, telling you that maybe they’ll be really nice and you’ll sleep through the entire flight. You watch her pickpocket the snacks she gave you while you talk to Mikasa and choose to ignore it. It’s the thought that counts. Mikasa offers to switch seats with you, which you decline, since you know she isn’t a big fan of planes either. Jean tells you that your fear is irrational and that you should just ignore it, which garners him a punch in the gut from both you and Mikasa. 

As you turn to the gate, you stare down at your ticket, watching Mikasa, Jean, Sasha, Connie, and Armin get onto the plane. You look over to your right and find Eren still standing next to you. 

“I have something to help with your problem.” he says, his hands fidgeting behind his back. 

You turn to him, a questioning look on your face. He pulls out a white bag, an orange pill bottle secured inside. Your eyes widen, looking up at him. 

“I promise they’re safe. They’ll just put you to sleep for takeoff, which I know you said is the worst part. Maybe if you’re not awake for it, it won’t be as bad.” he explains, pulling out a water bottle for you as well. 

“Okay, I’ll try it. Can’t promise it’ll work.” you say, shooting him a grateful smile. As the two of you head towards the gate, Eren rolling both of your bags, you feel yourself turn positively green. 

You turn the corner, reaching the walkway onto the plane. You can see Sasha and Mikasa at the end, scanning their tickets and stepping onto the plane. You feel your chest tighten, the breakfast you had earlier coming up. The smell of the airplane reaches your nose, the fear creeping into your chest. You stop at the start of the bridge, your feet glued to the ground. 

Sensing your absence, Eren turns around, looking over at you. He hurries over, his hands resting on your shoulders. He squeezes twice, instructing you to take two deep breaths with him. 

“You’re fine. The pills are completely safe. I would never give you anything that would hurt you.” he says, his hands dropping from your shoulders to grab the ends of your wrists. 

You meekly nod, still feeling positively green.

“Turbulence is normal. The plane is built to handle it. If it’s too much, we can switch seats so you’re with Armin and Mikasa. Come get me if you need me. Keep me updated on how you feel.” he says, his eyes searching yours for admittance. 

You nod at him and brace yourself for the nineteen hour flight ahead of you. The two of you head down the walkway, scanning your tickets and stepping onto the plane. You leave Eren at the start of the plane, him settling into the seats he had next to Armin and Mikasa. Their row was directly behind Connie, Sasha, and Jean, who were already rationing (arguing over) the snacks they had bought hours before. 

They all shoot you a thumbs up, as you trudge down towards the end of the plane to find your seat. As you reach the row, you find yourself seated next to two men who make eye contact with you as you sit down. The man seated in the window was reading a book, The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies. The other man, seated next to you, was cruising through the entertainment guide, browsing the National Geographic section. 

You couldn’t help but admire how attractive they both were as you sat down. The man in the window was small, his jet black hair and gray eyes striking you. The man in the middle, directly next to you, had the definition of perfect blonde hair, his blue eyes glimmering in the fluorescent plane light. You think he could be a model if he tried. They were both wearing button up shirts, their slacks perfectly pressed. You suddenly feel awkward in your sweatpants and hoodie, but banish the thought all together. 

You yank out the bottle Eren gave you from your pocket. You feel your hands shaking, reading over the recommended dose. One pill, with water. 

“Get nervous on planes?” said the man next to you, shooting you a polite smile. 

“That obvious?” you say, laughing awkwardly. 

“I’m Erwin. Erwin Smith. My partner, Levi, has taken those before.” he explains, gesturing to the man in the window. 

“I’m Y/N. Did they work?” 

He looks up from his book, glaring at the two of you. You shoot him a weak smile, suddenly feeling guilty for interrupting him from the book he was reading. 

“No.” he deadpans, returning back to his book. 

Your heart drops. The smallest sense of confidence you had was shattered with his words. Or word. What are you supposed to do now? 

“Excuse him. Do you have any companions on the plane? Levi has mentioned that a familiar presence makes the flight easier at times.” he asks. 

“Yeah, my friends are all sitting up there together. I was supposed to be sitting there too, but my friend Jean messed up my ticket.” you respond. 

“You can always turn to them for help, if needed. And granted, the pills did knock Levi out for an hour at a time, so it wouldn’t hurt to try them.” he says, smiling to himself. He returns to browsing the entertainment guide and you stare down at the bottle. You don’t miss the look Levi gives Erwin, the two of them communicating something that was lost to you entirely. 

You tighten your seatbelt one last time and swallow the pills Eren gave you. You decide five is a good amount, enough to knock you for the first five hours of the flight, if Levi and Erwin’s words were correct. As the safety feature starts and the plane starts moving on the runway, you feel yourself getting a little drowsy, your eyes fluttering closed. 

 - 

Your eyes shoot open, your ears popping from the altitude. You feel yourself nestled in someone’s arms, the embrace tight. 

You feel your blood turn cold. Did you fall asleep on Erwin after taking the pills? This has to be a new low. 

You release yourself from the embrace, your cheeks turning red at the embarrassing thought. You feel him move behind you, his hand reaching for your shoulder. 

“Y/N, you okay?” 

You look back over, realizing you were lying in Eren’s arms. Eren. But wait, what happened to Erwin? You look past him, seeing Levi still sitting in his seat, leaning against the window fast asleep. So you didn’t imagine the men you were sitting next to. 

“What happened to Erwin?” you whisper, rubbing your eyes to clear your sight. 

“Who?” he whispers in response. 

“The guy who was sitting here.” 

“Oh, Eyebrows. Well, I came to check on you after we took off, but you were fast asleep. I came back after an hour and you were knocked out. I kept coming back, worried that you were allergic to the pills or that they were too strong or something. I think he felt bad I kept coming back, that he offered to switch so I could keep an eye on you. He’s sitting with Mikasa now.” he explains. 

“That’s my fault. I took five of them instead of one. The guy in the window, Levi, mentioned that they don’t really work so I figured if I took more maybe they would.” 

Eren narrows his eyes at you, looking into yours. In hindsight, you realize taking that many was a little bit too far. He reaches for your wrist, his fingers intertwining with yours. 

“Don’t do that again.” he whispers, his voice slightly angry.

You feel the guilt sit in your throat. You knew Eren had a tendency to think in the worst case scenario, something you related to all too well. You place a hand on his shoulder, looking into his green eyes. 

“Sorry, ‘Ren. I was just scared.” you whisper. 

You see him soften under your touch, shaking his head at your words. 

“I know. Close your eyes and rest now, don’t think too much about the plane.” he says, opening his arm for you to rest on his shoulder. 

You nod, leaning into his shoulder, enveloped by the smell of his laundry detergent and honey dew cologne.  

 - 

After what feels like hours, you give up on trying to rest like Eren asked you to. He’s currently resting his head against your shoulder, fast asleep on your arm. 

You look over to find Levi, awake and reading his book once again. You see that he’s nervously twitching his leg, looking unsettled. You feel guilty for letting Erwin move for you, especially when he mentioned Levi gets uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry Erwin switched. I wouldn’t have let him if I was awake.” you whisper, catching Levi’s attention. 

Levi looks up from his book, his gray eyes glaring into yours. You curse yourself for speaking, having interrupted his reading for a second time now. You shoot a small smile at him, feeling your palms get sweaty as you feel Levi cursing you down to your soul. 

“He kept coming back, pressing his fingers to your neck to make sure your pulse was still there. Six times in twenty minutes.” he says, after an unbearably long silence. 

The guilt settling in your chest feels even worse, looking down at Eren who was still sleeping against your shoulder. You place a hand in his hair, untangling the knots forming at the back of his head. You feel your heart tighten in your chest, feeling horrible for worrying him, when all he did was make sure you were okay. 

Some more time passes, Levi’s words still ringing in your heads. You’re dreaming up all the ways you can make it up to Eren, maybe convincing the rest of them to let him see the beaches in Amalfi, which were currently not on your travel docket. Or buying him a really expensive watch he had been eyeing. It was out of your price budget, but you could make it work. 

Levi breaks the silence again, shutting his book. 

“Let him help you. You’re not doing loverboy the service you think you are when you deny him.” 

“Loverboy?” 

He narrows his eyes down, signaling at Eren. You look over at him, confused at his words. Loverboy? He narrows his eyes down to Eren and then back to you. He turns back over to his left, leaning his forehead against the wall to sleep again. You look back down at Eren, left to ponder Levi’s words. 

 - 

At some point, you dozed off, your head leaning against Eren’s. However, the service announcement over the speaker announced that you would be landing in five minutes, strartles you awake. As you lift your head from Eren’s shoulder, you look over to see him with his glasses on, reading a book. The Lost Book of Herbal Remedies. 

He closes the book as you sit up, his fingers brushing through the tangles in your hair. He smiles over at you, wordlessly placing a granola bar and a water bottle on the tray in front of you. You open your mouth to protest, but spot the back of Levi’s jet black hair, as he looks out the window. 

His words from the night before ring in your head, the protest dying on your tongue. You take the granola bar, ripping into it. You look over at Levi and you swear the tiniest makings of a smile are spreading across his face. He turns to you, glaring at the sight of you looking at him. You smile in return, silently thanking him anyways. 

As the plane hits the ground, you feel your heart ease, the cursed plane ride finally being over. Eren looks over at you, smiling at you as well, your hands still locked together. 

As people start leaving their seats, you and Eren stand in the aisle, reaching for your luggage. You look over to see Erwin joining Levi, removing their bags from the compartment next to yours. You figure he couldn’t reach without Erwin anyways.  Levi turns over to the two of you, leaning close to Eren’s face. 

“Tell her what you told us or I’ll find you on the coast and wring out your neck myself.” he says, pointing his finger at Eren and stalking away to exit the plane. 

You shoot him a confused look, shocked by the threat Levi had just made. Erwin turns to the two of you, placing a hand on your shoulders. 

“The two of you look great together. Best of luck, Eren!” he says, striding off to join Levi, the two of them joining hands and passing you one last glance as they exit off the plane. 

You and Eren quietly exit off the plane, with the five of them already at the gate, tracking down the hotel reservations. 

“What were they talking about?” you ask Eren, pushing your bags down the bridge.

“When I asked to switch places with Erwin, Levi asked for one good reason as to why he should do that. So, I gave them a reason.” he says, pulling the hood of his jacket off the top of his head. 

“Which was?” you ask, your voice trailing in the air. 

He pauses, exiting off the bridge and turning to you. 

“That you won’t accept my help. Or Connie, or Jean’s, or Mikasa’s. That you’ll suffer in silence, freaking out on planes, stressing during parties, crying on your birthdays. If I make one plane easier for you, maybe you’ll be receptive to the rest too.” he says, not missing the tone of anger in his voice. 

You stare at him, stunned by his words. 

“That and the fact that you took five pills instead of one nearly made my head explode.” he says. 

“You needed luck to tell me that?”

You see the frustration in the lines of his forehead, the reason for his anger lost to you completely.

“I needed luck to tell you that I like you.” he says, practically seething.

Levi’s words from the plane ring back to you. You’re not doing loverboy the service you think you are when you deny him.

You swallow the lump in your throat. Eren likes you. Eren likes you. The thought of confessing makes you nervous, the thoughts of him running in the other direction passing through your mind.

You’re not doing loverboy the service you think you are when you deny him.

Levi’s words weigh heavy on your conscience, with Eren still waiting for a response. You leap.

“The thought of you makes me nervous. Every time you look at me, my heart starts racing, pounding in my chest. Every time you touch me, my skin burns at the touch, tingling for minutes after. Every time you speak to me, you make my heart glow.” 

You look up at him, not missing the shock plastered on his face. 

“Make it easier for me to look at you. I need your help because I don’t know how to do this with you.” you say, the words trembling out of your lips. 

He looks at you, his eyes softening at the sight of you. His hands rise to cradle the sides of your cheeks. You squint at the contact, feeling the nervousness rise in your chest again. His lips rest against the top of your forehead, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to your skin. 

“We’ll go slow. Until it’s easy to look at me. Then to touch me. And then to talk to me.” he says, whispering against your hair. 

You smile up at him, the nervousness in your chest settling down. You nod, returning the smile he’s giving you. The two of you link arms, passing Levi and Erwin in the store nearby, joining the group at the end of the gate. 

You don’t miss Erwin and Levi’s stares, silently wondering if they stood around to watch you and Eren exit the plane. You wave at them as you pass, smiling brightly at the two of them. They quickly turn heads, pretending not to see you all together. 

-  

“Told you they’d get together. She’s definitely less stubborn than you were. ” 

“Shut up, Erwin.” 

[selfcarecap]

You're My Holiday [p.p]

Summary: You and Peter finally go on that holiday you’ve been planning for ages. With the two of you sharing a hotel room and spending all day together half-naked in the soft sand or chilling at the pool with cocktails, you and Peter are closer than ever. It finally feels like you’re ready to take your friendship to the next level. You can only hope that he feels the same, and you’re not just imagining it.

Warnings: smut (18+, brief m masturbation, oral, fingering, handjob, protected vaginal penetration), alcohol, mentions of fear of flying, friends (aka idiots) to lovers (who move very quickly bc this is a fictional fairytale <3)

Word count: 21k… there’s seven/eight days of their holiday though and there’s a little heading for every new day so you can split it up into multiple reading sessions if you feel like it <3

I know it’s not really summer anymore but I started writing this last october and i was not gonna wait another year to post it during peak summer weather lol, also thanks ksi for the title <33 lmaoo😭

(i’ve used that pic of him so many times he’s just the cutest ever 🫶)

teaser | moodboard

Day One

It’s six in the morning and your flight leaves at twelve, so, naturally, you’re on your way to the airport. 

MJ would never admit it but she’s been dropping hints that she gets nervous about being late to things like this, so you gladly got up a few hours later if it helped your friend relax, even though your bed felt extra comfy this morning.

Following MJ’s text that her taxi is in front of your door you rush down, only to see someone else next to MJ in the back of the car. 

You put your suitcase in the boot and join MJ and her partner Chris on the back seats.

“Hii!” MJ hugs you, unusually excited. You assume she’s also trying to compensate for the fact that she didn’t tell you she invited her partner at the last minute. 

You can’t bring yourself to be mad at MJ though, first of all because it’s basically still the middle of the night, but also because MJ is in love. You know she wouldn’t just invite a third person along if she wasn’t absolutely infatuated and sure that you’d get along well.

Still, she should have talked to you first. You probably wouldn’t have had the heart to say no anyways.

It’s not that you don’t like Chris, but it was supposed to be just you and MJ, and now you’ll be third-wheeling on a vacation that you planned.

Unless…

Your mind drifts to Peter, who is probably sound asleep. Like all best friends, you’ve talked about going on vacation together for years. This would be your opportunity to finally go on that trip you’ve been planning forever and to save yourself from being alone with a couple who is annoyingly in love.

You try not to get your hopes up too soon though. It’s spontaneous, you don’t even know if Peter wants to or if he’s busy, and you have no idea if the flight and hotel are fully booked and he can’t come anyway. But if Chris was able to, then maybe there’s still room for Peter too.

Before you disturb Peter’s slumber, you make some calls and check online. Butterflies erupt in you when you find out that Peter could actually come - if he wants to. You make the taxi driver stop just as you pass Peter’s street and tell MJ and Chris you’ll meet them at the airport, taking your suitcase out and dragging it up the stairs to Peter’s apartment.

He opens the door rubbing his eyes, shirtless and only in boxers that you can’t stop yourself from glancing at. You rarely see him with so much of his bare skin showing, and it’s like a treat every time. “Oh, hi, sorry. I thought you were the mailman,” he puts a hand over his crotch and you resist the urge to stare at it directly.

“I’m here to pick you up to go to the airport with me,” you give him your most charming smile, taking a step closer to him.

“Fuck was I supposed to drive you? Sorry I didn‘—”

“No no, no, you‘re good. I wanted to ask if you wanna come with me. MJ spontaneously invited Chris and I don’t wanna third-wheel. And we’ve talked about travelling together so many times. But I get if it’s too spontaneous or anything, you can say no.”

“You-you’re asking me to come with you? To Mexico?” He asks, suddenly wide awake, keeping his mouth shut to hide his widening grin, but it comes out when he talks, “I-I, they probably won’t even have any rooms will they? And-and the flight–”

“I checked and we can get you a ticket on the plane and a room at the hotel.”

You check your phone, “We still have a few hours.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” he repeats, eyes full of excitement, cheeks rosy in anticipation.

“Oh my god, really?” You’re only just starting to realise what this means, how much fun you’re going to have and how lucky you are. It’s going to be a trip you’ll remember for the rest of your life - going on vacation with your two best friends.

“Yes, of course, I would never say no to that.”

He opens his arms for you to hug him and he squeezes you, lifting you in the air while you squeal - both out of general excitement and also out of being literally swept off your feet with no warning. You don’t let go of each other when he sets you down again. After a few seconds you become too conscious of how naked he is right now and you let go, skipping off into his room to help him pack.

You text MJ.

You (7:01 am)

Peter is coming toooooooo

We’ll meet you at the airport

MJ (7:02 am)

Yay, double date vacation

Don’t be late !!!

You (7:02 am)

Ha ha

You mean me and Peter 3rd and 4th wheeling on your unexpected couple vacation? 

You owe me for that btw, no offence to your relationship

MJ (7:04 am)

I already called the hotel and upgraded us to an all-inclusive package (my dad’s paying lol)

You’ll be thanking me for the free 24/7 cocktails

I’m sure they can make them virgin for Peter :)

Oh and there’s massages (!!!)

You drop your phone when Peter comes up behind you. You hope he didn’t see MJ’s message about calling you and Peter a couple (and about him being inexperienced).

She’s been nagging you about how obviously in love you and Peter are since all three of you first hung out ages ago but you’ve been denying it, unsure if she’s right but also as an attempt to protect yourself from being hurt because you desperately want her to be right.

You two freak out over the upgrade and you quickly text MJ to thank her before you help Peter.

He brushes his teeth and (unfortunately) puts on a shirt before you begin packing. You should have enough time but with New York traffic every minute can count, so you hurry up.

“Wait, May works near the airport. She‘s just getting breakfast but maybe we can skip the taxi money and drive with her.”

He goes to the kitchen to call May and you listen to him telling her the news all excited, ending with a “Thanks, love you.”

He comes back to his room, “May’s driving us.”

“Great, can I help you pack?”

“Yeah just put any clothes in,” he opens his suitcase on top of his bed and disappears into the bathroom. While Peter gets all his stuff from there you stand in front of his closet, trying to find nice clothes for the beach amongst the mess in there.

He comes back out, his arms full of small bottles of shampoo and toothpaste, “Oh my god, just put it all in,” he laughs and takes out a big heap of clothing and drops it in his suitcase, folding some of it so it’ll fit better.

“Okay, okay,” you do the same, taking about 5 random pieces of clothes, “Just didn‘t want you having a meltdown again because you can‘t find a good outfit,” you tease.

“Hey, that was years ago, okay? And don‘t act like you weren‘t crying the day before prom because you suddenly hated the dress.”

“Yeah but unlike you I just picked another outfit and pulled it off.”

“You did, you looked perfect,” he tells you sincerely and you don’t dare look at him to see his accompanying look that always makes you think his affection is more than platonic. He’s never implied that you should be more than friends, so you hate the flutter in your belly you get at the smallest signs that there could be more.

“And we’ll be at the beach most of the time, so I don’t even need any clothes anyway,” he says and your cheeks feel hot as you immediately imagine Peter completely naked. He still means he’ll be wearing swimming shorts. Even that image is enough to make you feel a little warmer than usual though.

He zips his suitcase up a few minutes later, “I think I‘ve got everything.”

May comes through the door a moment later, greeting you with a hug and an air kiss and a short while later she’s driving you to the airport.

You and Peter smile at each other in the backseats, tiredness settling back in, but you’re also floored by how exciting this situation is. You were already thrilled to be going on the trip, but Peter unexpectedly coming too makes everything ten times better.

At the airport, you realise you need to pack some shower products into your suitcase so you open it in the back of the car and rearrange a few things, and you overhear a conversation between May and Peter while they talk behind the car.

You hear Peter’s hushed voice, “Why are you holding… what am I supposed to do with those?”

“Just in case, you need to be safe. You’ll be spending a lot of time together, more than usual and in fewer clothes than normal. You were talking to me about how you feel about her just last week. All that tension between you might finally–”

“I don‘t... don‘t need them.”

May sighs, “Well it won’t hurt to take them then. I didn’t know you were so awkward about sex and–”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll take them.”

Just as you zip up your suitcase and walk over to them, you see Peter pushing something into a tiny opening on the side of his case.

“Hey, what did May give you just then?” You ask Peter a few minutes later after hugging May goodbye and waving as she drives off.

“Oh uh,” his already red face turns a few shades darker, “Uh, nothing. Hey, I can see MJ and Chris over there!”

You fall asleep leaning against Peter’s shoulder while you’re waiting to get on the plane. You wake up when Peter warns MJ not to take a picture of you two - she already has, of course - and a few moments later there’s an announcement that you can start boarding your plane.

Turns out Peter and Chris only got seats because a couple behind you and MJ cancelled their tickets, so you end up sitting next to Peter with MJ and Chris in the row in front of you.

Through all the excitement, you nearly forgot how nervous flying makes you. You try to take deep breaths as you watch the security demonstration and hope you can ignore the pounding in your chest.

“Hey, are you nervous?” Peter asks in a soft voice. You lean forward as the plane starts moving, getting closer and closer to the runway.

“Um.. just a bit. I haven‘t flown in so long and I‘ve always found flying a bit.. unsettling.”

“Do you want to hold my hand?” 

You look into his eyes and see how concerned Peter is for you. You quickly nod and interlace your fingers with his, directing your eyes back out the window to see how far you are.

“Maybe don’t look out, okay? You‘ll feel when we take off but it won‘t last long until you even forget we‘re flying.”

“What should I look at then?” You ask, still looking out the window. 

You feel his hand on your chin, gently pulling you to face him, “Look at me.”

You maintain eye contact with Peter for a while, one hand still in his, and now your heart isn’t only beating fast because of your fear of flying.

“When are we taking off?” You ask, eyes not leaving Peter’s.

He looks past you and out of the window, “Any second now. But don‘t worry, it won‘t feel any different from going on a rollercoaster. Hey, we‘ve been on so many rollercoasters together. This is so harmless in comparison,” he reasons, smiling at you.

You think back to how many amusement parks you and Peter have been to, where you even outdid Peter and went on rides that he was too scared to go on. You feel the pressure in your chest ease up, but a second later you’re pressed back into your seat as the plane takes off. Your eyes flit towards the window on the other side of the plane and you see how high you already are.

“Look at me,” Peter says again and you quickly put your other hand on top of your and his intertwined ones. He adds his own hand on top, firmly lying it on yours, and you feel a tiny bit safer.

“Now… close your eyes and imagine we‘re on a rollercoaster together, yeah? I‘ll do it with you,” you watch him close his eyes and do the same, calming down enough to imagine one of the rollercoasters you’ve been on together, smiling at the memory. 

“Kind of a lame rollercoaster,” you smile, not opening your eyes, getting used to the sensation of flying up.

“I know, right? Really boring,” you can hear the smile in his voice and his thumb starts stroking over the back of your hand. 

“That‘s actually really helpful, I think I‘m good now,” you slowly open your eyes at the same time as Peter. There’s a small jolt and you squeeze your eyes shut again, grabbing Peter’s hands tighter.

“All good, that‘s part of the rollercoaster. We‘re just going around one of those corners where it feels like you‘re about to fall out but you never do…” 

You take a deep breath and open your eyes again. Peter’s are still closed and there’s a smile on his face as he continues. “You know you‘re not going to fall out and yet you always cling to me and I laugh and pretend to be fine even though I also feel like I‘m about to fall out and I need to hold on to you just as much as you need to hold on to me.”

“What are you two dumbasses doing?” You suddenly hear MJ and find her face squished between the seats in front of you.

Your eyes meet Peter’s and you both look around, noticing that you’re in the air now, the plane finally horizontal again “Oh, we’re… Thanks,” you shyly smile at Peter and reluctantly let go of his hands.

Before you can stress over some slight turbulences, you fall asleep with your head on Peter’s shoulder once more a few minutes later. The bang the plane makes as it lands a few hours later wakes you up and when you sit up you see Peter smiling at you, probably happy that you slept through the part of the plane ride that would have made you anxious again.

You don’t realise that you’re still holding Peter’s hand until you’re in the airport, waiting for your luggage. You decide to go to the bathroom, but there’s a resistance when you start walking - it’s your hand in Peter’s, and he didn’t notice how you were walking away.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise I was holding your hand,” you say.

“Oh it’s, it’s okay. You going to the restroom? Do you want me to come with you?” He asks, getting up.

“It’s fine, MJ’s coming with me. But thanks.”

It’s a lot hotter here than it was in New York, so you take off your hoodie and swap it for the short top you had with you. Three of your suitcases are there already when you get back so you stand around your luggage as you wait for the last one to arrive.

“Stop drooling over my best friend and do what you’re here for,” you hear MJ while you’re pretending to not notice Peter looking at your revealing top. MJ points to her suitcase on the conveyer and Peter gets it, picking up two more suitcases after MJ tells him to.

“What, Peter can‘t carry all of that,” you say, trying to take one off him.

“No it‘s fine,” he says, carrying them outside with ease. You try not to let your eyes linger on Peter’s biceps or how his shirt slightly lifts at the bottom. You’ll be seeing him half-naked at the beach soon enough, and you’ll be able to stare less obviously.

The hotel is just as nice as it looked in the pictures, and excitement replaces your tiredness once again. Peter is just across the hall from your, MJ and Chris’s shared room.

While your roommates still unpack, you go to knock on Peter’s door, bikini ready under your clothes. “Wanna go explore?” You ask when you see him, his swimming shorts already on with a simple white shirt that looks incredible on him.

It takes you nearly an hour until you’ve seen all the important spots of the resort and after a dip in the pool and a trip to the spa to plan your spa day later this week, you end up at the bar. You don’t want to worsen your slight sleepiness with alcohol, so you just get a fruit smoothie. 

You take in the view of the ocean, a cooling breeze flying across your skin. You and Peter clink your glasses, “To the next, wonderful week of our lives.”

“To an unforgettable week of our lives,” you add, not taking your eyes off Peter as you taste the liquid heaven. “If summer vacation was a drink it would taste like this,” you grin at Peter and he nods, smiling and finishing his drink quickly and already getting up to get you two more.

The beach is a part of the resort, about a three-minute walk from your room. You spend most of your day there, soaking up the sun and resting from your flight and the early start to the day. Peter looks adorable with the sunscreen all over his face. “Where?” he asks after you told him to rub it in a bit more, a wide white stripe on his nose.

“Here, let me…” you sit down on your knees in front of him, soft sand giving in under your legs, a few grains of it spilling onto your towel. You swallow as you get close to him, stroking your hand over his nose to let the sunscreen soak into his skin more.

Peter closes his eyes in delight, like a dog being scratched behind the ear, so you rub it in as long as you can without him realising that you finished ages ago. 

“Should I get your back?” You ask, unsure if having your hands on Peter is a good idea, but you want to do it anyway.

“Yes, thanks, if you don’t mind,” he smiles sleepily, the lack of rest catching up to him. You would offer him your sunscreen mist, so he can spray his back himself, but you can’t resist him when he rolls over onto his stomach and rests his head on his arms and his wide, defined shoulders are staring at you.

You straddle his hips, which is admittedly unnecessary, and slowly squirt sunscreen all over his back, taking your time with rubbing it all in, getting more on your hands to make sure his shoulders are covered. 

You don’t know if it’s the jetlag or the holiday atmosphere, but right now it’s not your first priority to hide your crush on Peter from him. You just want to enjoy yourself, and that includes being close to Peter. As long as he doesn’t mind, you don’t see any harm. If he comments on it, you’ll blame it on the carelessness that comes with being on holiday.

“Didn’t know all-inclusive meant getting a massage from you. Who needs the spa when I have you?” He practically purrs, cheek squished against his arm. You hum in response, licking your lips at hearing him so relaxed from your simple touch.

Peter thanks you when you get off him, leaving his head on his folded arms. A few moments later, you hear gentle snoring and you turn onto your side to watch him sleep peacefully.

His skin looks so soft, still shiny from the sunscreen. There’s a slight furrow in his eyebrows, his forehead creasing, and you realise the sun is right in his eyes. You carefully adjust the parasol above you, so his face is in the shade.

You get bored after a while and stand up to get a book from your room. As you get up, Peter wakes up, “Where are you going?” He mumbles.

“Just getting something from my room, you need anything?” 

“No thanks,” he murmurs, lying back down. You bend down to kiss his temple, stroking his hair for a second. He smiles softly and falls asleep again. Your heart is so full of love for him as you kneel beside him for another minute or two before getting your book.

You read for a while before you look at the ocean in front of you, only a few feet of sand separating you from it. You don’t want to go alone though, so you tap Peter on the shoulder a few times.

All he does is roll on his back with a sleepy groan and you almost feel bad for waking him up. But then you focus on the sound of the waves and you know it’ll be nice for him too.

“Peter,” you whisper multiple times but he refuses to open his eyes. You straddle him and hover above his hips like you’ve done countless times before when you were playfighting. Only this time you’re in a bikini.

His eyes open immediately and he gulps, hands reaching out to grab your hips but stopping last second. You can tell he’s having a hard time trying not to look at your chest - he fails multiple times as his eyes drift down for only a second each time they do.

You don’t know how you’ll survive a week of him looking at you like that. It’s something you’re scared of - both of you giving in to the sexual attraction but being unsure about your romantic feelings for each other.

It’s clear that Peter is physically attracted to you. But for a guy who is friends with a pretty woman, it doesn’t mean much. You’re sexually attracted to him too, and you don’t mind his attention - it’s always respectful and you know he’d easily manage to control himself if you expressed any discomfort at him staring. He probably thinks he’s being subtle though, but he’s not.

When you’re someone’s best friend who, in your eyes, is a potential romantic partner too, it’s fucking hard to figure out of their affection is strictly platonic. Peter is a loving person and so it’s not easy to tell if his love is friendly or romantic. You doubt romantic affection would feel very different from his platonic love.

You couldn’t bare having sex with him and later find out that’s all he wants from you besides friendship. It would destroy you and so for now, while you’re strong-willed and it’s only the first day that you’re spending together half-naked, you get off of him to prevent anything more from happening.

“Come swim with me,” you smile charmingly and he sits up and yawns, stretching before he stands up. “Last one in the water has to pay for the next drink,” he yells as he sprints into the water, making you laugh.

“They’re free,” you shout after him, following him into the water. He helps you through the first few feet of the water, making sure you don’t step on any spiky stones in the sand.

You enjoy the feeling of zero gravity in the water, splashing each other and joining a group of people who are playing with a ball. Peter looks at you every time something funny happens, which you only know because you’re doing the same with him, and you wonder how it’s possible that every moment spent with him makes you appreciate him even more.

As you sit on the beach with towels around you, you share snacks that you brought and decide to go to the pool now. You don’t say anything for ages, your eyes saying more than words can.

You get in the water together, holding hands as you float on your backs. 

Just this morning, you randomly showed up in front of a sleepy Peter’s door; now you’re in sunny Mexico, having the time of your lives, feeling closer to Peter than ever.

“I can’t believe we’re actually here. I knew it would be good but this is incredible,” you say, swimming upright again. This end of the pool isn’t deep, so you can stand.

“I know. Thanks for inviting me. I can’t even tell you how happy I am,” he grins at you and you grin back. 

Your smiles don’t stop and his gaze hasn’t left yours. You wonder who’s going to give in first. Peter wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. Your heart is pounding and you can’t hide your smile.

It’s finally happening.

You lean in at the same time, closing your eyes already as you feel his breath against your lips. Suddenly, someone jumps into the pool right next to you, splashing you enough to ruin the moment.

It’s MJ and Chris who obviously didn’t realise what they were interrupting. The moment is over and you immediately start talking to them, splashing water against your face to cool you down. You can’t believe what was about to happen.

Peter’s eyes on you didn’t feel platonic at all. There was romance, a deep appreciation and want for you, as more than a friend. But what if it’s just the holiday magic? Or the jetlag? You don’t know if you’d be able to let him kiss you until you’re back home again.

He gets out of the water somewhat in a huff, not mad at you but frustrated somehow. You can’t talk to him if it’s about you though. Normally, you can talk about everything. But not about the thing that might ruin your friendship. 

You try to shake the feeling that something special was about to happen, it’s the first day of your holiday and you’re not used to the situation yet. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.

Peter doesn’t avoid you, but he’s not with you as much as he usually is either. You’d hate if there was tension between you on what is supposed to be the trip of your dreams.

You all eat together in silence and go to bed early. Despite the unsure air between you and your best friend slash secret crush, you’re excited for the days ahead of you. You’re sure Peter doesn’t want anything to get between you and ruin the vacation when it’s something that can wait until you’re back home. You’re okay with that too, you’ve liked him for months if not years and not said or done anything about it; you can easily manage another week and act as if you just like Peter as a friend.

You don’t want him to just see this as a holiday fling, get your hopes up, and go back to being just your friend when you’re home. The moment earlier didn’t feel like just sexual attraction, but you couldn’t bear to have an adult talk with him about your feelings and be shot down - not this week.

Exhaustion fills your every limb, and you’re about to drift off.

“Is she asleep?” It’s MJ’s voice. You hear shuffling from her and Chris’s bed.

“I think so.”

You’re too tired to lift your head and see what’s going on or ask them if they need you, but you jump as soon as you hear them kissing, “Nope. I’m leaving.”

For the few moments that you walk over to Peter’s hotel room, you forget all about the weird mood between you two. You knock again, “Hey Pete, it’s just me.”

He opens the door with a naked and sweaty chest, his cheeks pink. “Oh sorry were you…working out or something?” You ask.

“No uh, it‘s just uh, hot. Come in,” he smiles, happy to see you. Has he forgotten about nearly kissing you or is he over it already? Or maybe your tries to communicate with him telepathically during dinner worked. You were trying to tell him not to make things weird for you two as not to risk having a nice stay.

“I was just wondering if I could sleep here tonight because MJ and Chris were about to have sex. On the bed right next to me, so..”

“Of course. I was wondering from the start why we didn‘t just share a room. I didn‘t know if you wanted to have some, I don’t know, time without me or something. You can move into my room if you want.”

You look around, “I think I’ll be fine on the sofa, just tonight, but..”

“What? No, no you can sleep in my bed. It‘s so huge and it‘s not like we‘ve never shared a bed.”

“You sure?” You ask, hoping he’d say that. 

“Yeah. I wouldn‘t even be in this beautiful place without you, the least I can do is share a room with you. And I want to,” he smiles, cleaning up one half of his bed.

“Thank you. I’ll stay here then. I‘ll get all my things tomorrow… hey, is that my shirt?”

His cheeks go red as he looks at your t-shirt on his mattress, “O-oh how did.. how did that get there?” 

“I must have accidentally put it in your bag,” you reason. His sunglasses ended up in your bag too. 

“Y-yeah and then I somehow- maybe I didn‘t realise I got it out while I was getting something else out..” Peter scratches the back of his neck and turns away from you, “Do you need to use the bathroom? I was gonna go take a shower.”

“I‘m fine, thanks. Don‘t worry about me. I was about to fall asleep before Chris and MJ… y’know, so I think I’ll go to bed now if that’s okay.” You smile at each other and you hug him goodnight. You’re too tired to wonder why Peter is acting so weird and you’re nearly asleep when he sinks into the bed next to you twenty minutes later. 

You feel at peace with him by your side.

Day Two

You wake up with Peter’s beautiful face right in front of yours. He’s softly smiling in his sleep, and he looks so innocent. You look around and it sinks in that you’ll be staying with Peter for the rest of the week, and that means you’ll spend even more time together. You grin at the thought of it and doze off again a few times before Peter wakes up too. You stay in bed for at least half an hour, waking up together and talking, laughing, and planning what you’ll do today. 

After getting ready together, you set off for the day, just the two of you. 

That one moment between you is forgotten completely, the tension all gone, and you’re just looking forward to the dreamy beach. 

You’re simply hanging out with your best friend who loves you a lot. And you don’t love him too, and not for no reason. You know he’d never jeopardise your friendship or a picture-perfect vacation by kissing you when he’s not sure how he feels about you. So if it happens again, although you’re not trying to get your hopes up, you’ll trust him, and you’ll let it happen.

You’re both very affectionate in your friendship though, and it’s been going on for so long that it’s hard to find the boundaries between platonic feelings and more. The only thing that would change is that you’d kiss and be sexually intimate. You already cuddle and share intimacy - intimate conversations, looks, everything. It’s hard to tell if the looks he’s giving you this morning are what they usually are or if you’re overinterpreting some romantic feelings into them because that’s what you’re hoping for.

A pleasant breeze sweeps across your skin and you look out onto the ocean. You close your eyes and breathe. A sense of calmness fills you, and you decide you’ll just let things happen organically.

If you kiss, you kiss. If you don’t, you don’t. But you’re not going to let useless overthinking dictate how much you enjoy this heavenly place. With your best friends by your side, there’s more than enough to enjoy, even if everything between you and Peter stays the way it is and the near kiss was just a meaningless moment - you’ll survive. But most importantly, you’ll try to make this the best holiday regardless of what happens.

Chris and MJ join you at the beach around noon, and you feel it lift your spirits even more. You’re knocked out after lunch and take a nap on your towel, the sun casting a pleasant warmth over your whole body. 

You wake up to Peter spraying your sunscreen on your chest and belly. 

“Sorry, didn’t wanna wake you,” he says softly, “Just wanted to make sure your skin is protected.”

“Aww, thank you.” You want to kiss his cheek but you force yourself to stay on your back. You’re so full of love for him at that moment and maybe it’s just your sleepy state, but you can’t imagine only staying Peter’s friend for the rest of your life.

It doesn‘t help you that MJ and Chris are nowhere to be found, and it’s just you and him. 

You wander to the outside bar by the pool, and you try a new cocktail while Peter drinks the one from yesterday. He sips from your straw when you offer him to try your drink and you make yourself wait a few seconds before taking another sip. It‘s nearly pathetic how eager you are to share an indirect kiss, put your lips where his just were. 

As soon as Peter walks to the bar to get another round, a guy is standing in front of your table. He‘s wearing turquoise-tinted glasses and looks like a dick. 

“Hi, beautiful, I saw you sitting alone and wanted to introduce myself.”

You’ve barely been sitting alone for ten seconds but somehow he still managed to bother you. 

You’re not scared of him, he seems harmless and you’re in this busy bar. But is he annoying you? Yes. You can’t even be on holiday alone without some random guy coming up to you and wasting your precious time. But you’re outside in broad daylight and you’ve already made eye contact with Peter. You scratch your right eyebrow with your left hand - your signal for him to come save you - and he comes hurrying over. 

He sits down next to you and puts an arm around you, kissing your cheek, “Hi babe. Who’s this?”

The guy lifts his hands in defeat, “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was yours.”

“She—”

You slap Peter’s leg quietly. You know he’ll go on a rant about how if you were his girlfriend you still wouldn’t be his but you’re still your own person et cetera. This guy doesn’t need to hear that though because it won’t change his mind anyway.

“Have a day, man,” Peter says to the guy. The guy gives you two a last funny look before walking off. 

“Have a day?” You laugh. 

“I didn’t wanna say have a good day because he was bothering you and doesn’t deserve a good day, but I didn’t wanna say have a bad day because he didn’t do anything awful, so my brain just blanked.”

“I guess he will have a day,” you agree, clinking your glass with Peter’s, “Thanks.”

“Can’t blame the guy, I guess,” Peter mumbles beside you, “I’d wanna talk to you too.”

He sits back as if he didn’t say anything out of the ordinary, as if he didn’t just send you down a spiral as you wonder how he means what he just said. 

Does he mean he’s happy to have you as a friend, and that he’s happy he gets to talk with you?

Or does he mean you’re attractive and he’d want to talk to you to ask you out?

You take a big sip of your drink and slowly blow air out of your mouth, sitting back. 

You both notice at the same time that Peter’s arm is still around you from when he was pretending to be your boyfriend. 

“Oh uh, sorry.”

“I.. I don’t mind it,” you tell him, sipping more of your drink and not looking at him. All you know is that his arm stays around you and you feel warm, and this time it’s not from the sun. 

.

Chris and MJ are back at the beach when you go there, and you’re grateful for the distraction from Peter when you go swimming with just the two of them. When you come out of the water Peter’s gone but you find a text on your phone. He says he’ll be back soon and he’s just in your room.

You soak up the sun for a while until MJ asks you about Peter for the third time, “He’s been gone for a while, you should really go check on him.”

You don’t open your eyes, “He’s a big boy, he can look after himself. I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he’s taking a nap or something.”

You sit up when you hear MJ and Chris whispering something to each other and that’s when you realise they’re indirectly asking you for some couple time, some alone time without you where they’ll be all cheesy and in love. “Yup. I’ll be going then,” you leave your things at the beach because it’s not late yet - you’ll come back later.

The coolness bouncing off the marble floors inside the hotel clears your head and makes you feel like you’ve suddenly dried off completely. You can’t imagine going back to the beach today. Maybe you’ll join Peter and take a nap too.

You scan your key card and open the door to your room as quietly as possible in case Peter really is sleeping. Your heart skips a beat when you realise what you’re walking in on.

Peter is shirtless, the light white covers pulled up to his hips but they don’t hide him jerking off. He has your panties wrapped around his hand as he strokes himself, breaths short and loud.

His eyes go wide at the same time as yours and it takes him a second to cover himself up and another second for you to close the door, stuttering an unintelligible apology.

You awkwardly stand in front of the door for a bit, your hand still on the door handle as you process what just happened. There’s shuffling on the other side of the door but Peter doesn’t come out.

Looking around to check if anyone saw you, you pat the bottom of your beach dress down, pretending like the sudden wetness between your legs isn’t because of Peter. You take a few deep breaths to slow down your rapidly beating heart and you make your way to the other side of the resort – as far away from Peter as possible, so you can think about what just happened.

You sit at the pool with a cool drink to combat the lasting warmness on your cheeks and inside of you. If that’s not a clear sign that Peter likes you then you don’t know what is. It might not mean that he likes you romantically but you’re even more certain that he’s attracted to you now. There’s not a single doubt left about that. This and him almost kissing you in the pool is enough for you to imagine a future together, no matter how small those signs might seem.

The heat just won’t go away and you find yourself smiling at what you just witnessed. It wasn’t an ideal situation, sure, and Peter is probably more embarrassed than he’s ever been but you like him so much and now you know there’s at least some sort of reciprocation. 

You can already see yourself reminding him of this situation in a few months, years even, and you’ll laugh and find it cute how flustered he will be even after ages of being together just because that’s the type of person he is.

You’d scold yourself for thinking that way, he was just jerking off with your panties. If you told anyone, they’d probably think he’s being gross and maybe he is - he definitely is - but you like him so much that even this small thing makes you like him even more because it’s giving you hope. And right now that hope is much nicer to think about than being rational and waiting until you’ve actually talked and you have clarity about his feelings towards you.

This little spark of hope means so much and even if it’s not the most romantic sign, it is a sign.

You were wearing those panties in the morning and Peter walked in on you while you were changing, bikini top on paired with your panties. He didn’t see anything that he shouldn’t have but his cheeks went red immediately and you could feel the blush radiating off of him when you asked him to tie your bikini at the back.

He must have played with the strings for at least twenty seconds and you’d bet all your money that he took so long because he was staring at your body, at how good your ass looks in those panties.

You thanked him and shooed him away so you could change but also so he wouldn’t realise that you’d gotten just as flustered as him. It was an accident that you left your panties on the bed when you left your room this morning but it’s come back to do you good.

Now you just have to decide what to do next. But all you can think of is Peter getting off and the only thing you want to do is go back and sit on his lap.

You set off, your knees weak if you think about what’s about to happen, and your palms are clammy as you open the door.

You find the bed made, the bathroom empty and Peter nowhere to be seen. You can’t help but frown, your shoulders sagging. You check your phone if Peter has texted you (he hasn’t) and text MJ to ask if Peter’s with her (he’s not).

Unsure what to do, you wash off the saltwater in the shower, feeling stupid as you stay in your towel extra long afterwards, hoping that Peter will come in.

You stay in your room all alone, sulking, until dinner time. You just want Peter right now. You get that he’s probably embarrassed but you just realised that there’s an even bigger chance that he really does like you, and you can’t stand him hiding from you. Nothing embarrassing he could ever do would make you want him to avoid you.

MJ knocks at your door, “Hey, you ready? Peter’s waiting at the restaurant.”

You get off of the bed when you hear Peter’s name, rushing past MJ and Chris to go and see Peter. You freeze when you see him sitting at the table. He looks so worried that it breaks your heart; your annoyance about him hiding from you melts away in an instant.

He’s got his eyebrows pulled together, he’s gnawing on his bottom lip with his hands folded together in front of him, wiping them on his trousers every few seconds. He gets up as soon as he spots you, and you give him a weak smile. You can’t tell what he’s about to say.

You pull him into a quiet corner, “Hey…”

“I’m so sorry. I-I-I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry you had to see - I mean, what.. how much did you see?”

“I… you know what I saw,” you play dumb, “The blanket was in the way but I assume I know what you’re doing.”

“That’s all you saw? You didn’t see..”

“I didn’t see your dick if that’s what you mean,” you lie, hoping he can stop worrying and go back to enjoying his holiday.

“Oh and you didn’t…? Oh. Good. I’m still sorry you walked in on me–”

“No, I’m sorry. I should have knocked.”

At this point, you just want to end the conversation and you don’t like your own serious tone at all. You wanted to declare your love for him and here he was worried sick. Even now that he knows - or thinks - you didn’t see that he had your underwear, there’s still concern in his eyes.

“And it’s fine if you need some alone time, just let me know and I’ll go,” you continue, smiling so he can finally relax, “Or, you know, I don’t mind if you do it in the bathroom or whatever. I can turn the tv up real loud if you want. And now stop worrying.”

You grab his neck to pull him into a hug and he rests his forehead against your shoulder, sighing, which you hope is him letting go of the last bits of embarrassment.

“Same goes for you, by the way,” he says when you step apart, and he’s finally standing taller again, “If you need the room for yourself, just tell me. Don’t feel like you, uh, have to hold back or anything because of me.”

You grin, a playful tone on your lips, “Don’t worry, I haven’t been holding back anyway.”

You haven’t masturbated since you’ve been here, especially not when Peter was in the hotel room with you, but it won’t hurt to put that idea into his head - now that you’ve seen what he’s been doing behind closed doors.

His jaw drops, nothing but a few stuttered words falling out of his mouth, and you walk to the buffet beaming, happy with how you managed to put something completely new into his mind. It won’t leave any room for his embarrassment to return and hopefully give him an idea of how far he can go with you.

You won’t mind making the first step now that you know what you know, but it’ll be fun to try and make him kiss you first.

He joins you all at the table a few minutes later, cheeks still glowing like the moment you implied you’ve masturbated not far away from Peter.

MJ and Chris are too in love to notice anything, but there’s more tension between you and Peter than ever before. He looks like he hasn’t decided between being flustered and turned on or confident and turned on yet but you’re sure he‘ll decide soon enough.

You smile at him over dinner innocently enough to keep him guessing the slightest bit but whenever your eyes meet you know you feel it both; the attraction, the want, maybe a bit of suspense too.

You have no idea how long you’ll manage this, you just want to kiss him silly if you’re honest. But you don’t mind watching him feel the same thing. He’s obvious about it now, staring at you as if you’re a goddess.

At home, you’d just drag him into a separate room alone and kiss him and tell him what you feel. But the holiday magic is doing something to you, making you excited to drag this out a bit because you know the payoff will be even better if you’ve waited longer. The ocean, your friends and the overall situation also make a nice distraction while you wait for Peter to finally kiss you. 

You’ve gone years without kissing him, so no matter how much you want to end that period of your life where you’re not regularly making out with Peter Parker, you’ve worked up enough discipline - and up until not long ago uncertainty - to stop you from kissing him for just a bit longer.

You take another quick shower when you get back to your room at night, and you get lost in the pleasant stream of water and the luxurious soap smell floating through the air. The shower is huge and takes up half of the bathroom, and there’s just a wall of glass separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. There’s no curtain to cover you, just a blur effect in the middle of the glass.

A knock pulls you from your trance, “No pressure, but will you be long?” Peter calls, “I have something stuck in my teeth and it’s driving me crazy.”

You chuckle, “You can come in, door’s unlocked.”

He sprints to the mirror and grabs his floss, but freezes when he sees your reflection. The glass of the shower that separates you and Peter is blurry but you know he can still make out the shape of your body. His mouth open, he watches you for a few seconds, mesmerised. 

When you look over to smile at him through the mirror he immediately looks away as if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t. A bashful smile on his face, he flosses his teeth, looking down. 

You get out of the shower while Peter is still in the bathroom, grabbing your towel before he can see you naked. You wrap it around you loosely, letting it hang far down your back. 

He’s seen you in a bikini, and you’re more covered now, but the tension in the air is thick and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling at how nice you feel next to Peter. 

He starts brushing his teeth while you do your skincare, your elbows bumping into each other every few moments. 

You pull a new pair of panties on under your towel, aware that you might expose everything any second, your grip on the towel loose. 

You let go of the towel with Peter still next to you - he’s on his fifth minute of brushing his teeth - and you’re only covering your nipples with your forearm as you put on your sleep shirt. Peter stays with you until you’re done brushing your own teeth. 

You slip into bed together, suddenly tired. 

Maybe you’re just lying closer to Peter than last night, but suddenly the bed feels a lot smaller. You’re brushing up against Peter and you want to get even closer. 

You can’t even see him right now but he’s so irresistible. You don’t know why you didn’t just kiss him earlier. Now you’re tired and you don’t want your first kiss to be half asleep. You don’t know how far he is into sleeping either. 

You decide you won’t kiss him now, but you want to cuddle at least. You scoot over, putting your arm over Peter’s waist and he pulls you closer in an instant, wrapping an arm around you. It makes you nearly forget that you still don’t know if he actually likes you romantically; you’re just sure about the sexual side. But you hope he feels as nice having you in his arms as you feel being in them.

“I’m so happy how things turned out,” you tell him, knowing now that he’s still awake. 

“Me too. This place is so beautiful. And we’re sharing a room. And I love it here, don’t get me wrong, but you’re definitely the best part. You make everything ten times better.”

Your heart melts right then and there and you grip his arm tighter, pressing a small kiss to his shoulder. 

You don’t say much more, mainly because you’re scared of confessing your love to him. And no matter that you want to stay up longer, because going to sleep means you’ll be without Peter, a yawn forces its way out of your throat, and soon your eyes fall shut. 

Day Three

You sleep like a baby and then you feel like crying when you wake up without Peter. You try to listen for the shower, but you’re alone. 

Peter comes through the door just as you’re about to stand up. He grins when he sees you, a tray full of food in his hands. 

You lie back down and let him place the tray next to you, reaching up so you can hug him. 

“Is this for me?” You ask, pursing your lips with a twinkle in your eyes. 

“It is. You were sleeping so peacefully but they stop serving breakfast in a few minutes, so I went and got you some in case you want it.”

“Thank you,” you smile, unable to deal with so much cuteness two minutes after waking up, “Have you had breakfast?”

“Uh, no. But don’t worry about me.”

“No. Come and eat with me,” you pat the bed, making him share your breakfast with you. 

You have a lazy morning together, and you walk to the beach with your hands brushing so often that you may as well be walking hand in hand. 

You meet Chris and MJ at the beach but you barely acknowledge them. You’d feel sorry but that’s exactly what MJ’s been like since her relationship with Chris so you’re sure she understands. She’s probably still too obsessed with Chris to even notice and you’re still so happy for them whenever you think about it. They leave you two for a spa day shortly after anyway.

You can’t tell if Peter is being clingy today or if you are. Either way, you’re together all day.

When one of you and Peter goes into the water, so does the other. Same with the pool or the bar or when you go to your room because you forgot something - Peter comes with you.

He puts his towel next to yours when you decide to take a nap on the beach and he’s still in the same position when you wake up, lying next to you on his side, facing you, impatiently waiting like a little child until he can spend time with you again.

You push yourself up from lying on your stomach, supporting yourself on your elbows. 

“Wait wait wait,” Peter nearly shouts, eyes on your chest and then he quickly looks up at the sky, “Your bikini uh, uh–”

“Oh,” you say, realising the straps of your bikini top must have come undone while you were asleep and the cups are everywhere but on your boobs. You quickly readjust them, pulling the fabric over your chest, “Thanks. I’m good now. Did you see anything?” The question makes you feel like Peter, except you’re not asking out of embarrassment but to tease him.

“No, not, uh not really,” he answers, cheeks red and he’s still looking away.

You sit up and laugh, “Don’t worry, was just wondering. You wanna go for a swim?”

It’s windy when you come out of the water and Peter hands you his towel. He says it’s “bigger and cozier” than yours. He takes your thin towel but he looks freezing with his skin still wet from the cold ocean water, the wind cool against your faces.

“Come here,” you stretch out your arm towards him and he immediately scoots over. You put half of the towel over his shoulders and he instantly relaxes. The towel is big but not quite big enough to cover the two of you, so you’re impossibly close, pressed up against each other.

Your heart starts beating faster and the only thing you want to do is sink into Peter. He notices the goosebumps on your skin and puts his arm around you, pulling you even closer and you rest your head on his shoulder.

The sun comes back from behind the clouds and the wind stops blowing, but you don’t move. You stay cuddled up against Peter even though it’s almost becoming too warm again.

When you sit up after a few minutes and look at Peter, he’s smiling. It’s a soft smile that makes you feel safe and loved and understood.

You have no idea how you’ve managed to not kiss him yet. It was bearable all day when you were a few feet apart but now that his adorable face is right next to yours, his skin pressed up against you, you don’t think you can withstand the urge to kiss him anymore.

Who cares if you kiss him first or he initiates it? You don’t know what you were thinking, trying to tease him and test how far you can go. All you want to do is finally make out with him.

You lean in and he does the same, and your heart feels like it’s in heaven. Just as your lips are about to touch, a voice interrupts you. It’s MJ and Chris coming back from the spa.

“We just had the best massage of our lives,” MJ says, looking at her phone so she probably didn’t see that you were about to kiss. You and Peter share one last look that acknowledges what was about to happen and while you wish you hadn’t been interrupted, you have no doubt that you’ll kiss soon. The line between you being friends and more has vanished. You’re ready to risk it now, you can’t be certain how much he likes you until you ask him, or kiss him and see his reaction anyway.

You don’t want to wait until he kisses you or writes you a love letter. Right now, it’s just pure desire. There’s more to it than that, so much more. But you haven’t been able to stop thinking about what it would be like to have sex with Peter. And your gut feeling tells you the rest will fall in place too. You know he’s not the type for casual sex anyway. So if it happens, you know it’ll mean something.

You sit back down on your own towels and spend some time with MJ and Chris. They met some nice employee at the hotel who brings you cocktails every hour and you’re pleasantly tipsy before the evening, too happy to worry about you and Peter.

You’re all giggly and clumsy over dinner and at night you and Peter end up at the pool, your legs dangling in the water, only up to your ankles.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to get wet with clothes on,” Peter muses.

In your tipsy mind, wet is the only word you hear, “If you had a vagina that would be no problem,” you giggle.

“Oh my god,” he puts his hands over his blushing face, “No I mean, like, get in a pool with clothes.”

“No one’s stopping you,” you say and you watch Peter curiously as he gets up and walks a few steps away. Then he starts running and jumps into the pool, hugging his legs to his chest mid-jump. You can’t stop laughing when water splashes everywhere and Peter laughs with you.

“How is it?” You ask.

He laughs, “Very uncomfortable.”

He swims towards you and you hold your hand out for him. He ignores your help and instead swims right in front of you. Before you register what he’s doing, he’s lifting your legs over his shoulders and picks you up, his face between your thighs. 

He starts walking further into the pool and you’re shouting for him to put you back, and at the same time you’re laughing so hard that you nearly lose balance. When you’re far away enough from the edge of the pool, Peter throws you in and for a few minutes you’re just laughing, grateful that the pool is shallow enough for you to stand because otherwise you’d be too busy giggling to keep yourself above water.

It’s all even funnier because you’re tipsy but you regret drinking when your laughter dies down and you realise how close you and Peter are. You’re not blackout drunk but the alcohol is definitely affecting you. You know you wouldn’t regret kissing Peter but it’s hard to tell how drunk he is, so you force yourself to swim away from him.

“Okay you’re right, wet clothes are super uncomfortable. Let’s get out and get changed.”

He lets you shower first and this time you take your clothes into the bathroom and lock the door, you don’t know what would happen if one of you saw the other one naked again. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow when you’re sober for anything to happen between you two.

“Bathroom’s free,” you say when you get out of the bathroom only to see that Peter has fallen asleep on the bed, still in his wet clothes.

You rush over to him, half laughing, and try to wake him. “Peter, you need to take off your clothes.”

He stirs and lifts his head, smiling, “You take them off me.”

You quickly tug his shirt off before you can let yourself think about what he’s saying. You unbutton his jeans and pull them off, and then you tap him on the shoulder to get him to fully wake up, “I’m not doing your underwear.” It’s not that you’d mind but he’d probably be embarrassed or regret it in the morning, so you pull him out of bed and turn around until he’s changed into dry boxers.

“God, Peter,” you laugh as you get into your side of the bed and feel how wet his side is.

“It’s fine, I’ll just sleep with you,” he jumps onto the bed and snuggles up against you, making you laugh. He puts his arm around your waist and you don’t mind him sleeping on your side at all. You switch off the bedside lamp and settle into Peter’s arms.

“Is it okay that I’m half naked?” He suddenly asks you after a few minutes.

“What?”

“I mean, are you comfortable? Because we’re so close and I’m only wearing boxers,” he sounds sober now, and more awake, and it makes you grin how important it is to him that you’re comfortable.

“I’m comfortable, don’t worry. Good night, Peter,” you turn your face to kiss the top of his head and then you allow yourself to drift off, thinking that falling asleep in Peter’s arms could soon be a regular thing.

Day Four

You wake up with a headache and with Peter’s morning wood pressed against your ass. You notice it when you try to get up and push your hips back a bit to sit. You don’t have to see it, you can feel that it’s huge.

You’re horny immediately but when you try to turn around - which is hard because Peter’s arm is locked around you - your headache really hits you. You weren’t even that drunk but maybe the drinks together with the burning sun was what did it.

Ignoring Peter, you manage to lift his arm and go to the bathroom where you take some painkillers. You get a glass of water for Peter but he’s already awake when you put them down next to the bed. He’s on his stomach now and his ears are red.

“Hey,” he says, his morning voice doing things to you even through your hangover, “Didn’t think I got that drunk,” he says and by his pained face you know his headache is even worse than yours.

“You remember everything?” You ask, sitting down next to him.

“I think I do. Thanks for uh, taking off my clothes. And, oh God,” he looks as if he’s remembering how he got his side of the bed all wet and slept on yours, “you probably didn’t have any room, sorry for–”

“It’s okay,” you say, “I didn’t mind it.” You hope he realises that by it you mean being cuddled up to him in your sleep, and his soft smile tells you he does.

You stay in bed until the afternoon and decide to check out the spa Chris and MJ told you about - they’re already there, recovering from their hangover too. Peter gets a different massage from the rest of you, and you don’t remember the last time you were without him but you’re glad that you can catch up with your other two friends while you wait for your massages to start.

“I really love this place,” Chris says, “I’m glad I could come. And your Peter too.”

Your cheeks heat up at how they call him your Peter.

“MJ, how much have you told Chris about me and Peter, by the way?” You ask MJ and Chris.

“Not much, why?”

“Do you think Peter seems like he likes me?” You don’t need someone else’s validation. No one but Peter knows how he really feels. But you’re curious to see what your relationship looks like from the outside.

Chris hesitates, “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t he?”

“No, I’m asking like.. do you think he’s into me.”

“Again, yeah, Why wouldn’t he?” They repeat.

All three of you stare at each other for a second, wondering where the miscommunication is. Chris is the first to start again, “Okay so… you’re asking me if I think your boyfriend likes you… and it definitely seems like he does, so yes.”

“Oh. Oh oh, no it’s…” you can’t hide your smile, “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“What?” Chris shouts, making you and MJ laugh, “You’re telling me you two are not together?”

“We’re not,” you say.

“Well, you’re obviously in love with each other. But, um, sorry for assuming I guess?”

“No it’s okay, that answers my question perfectly, thanks.”

The fact that Chris, who barely knows you and Peter and your complicated friendship, thinks you’re a couple makes you smile so much that your cheeks hurt. It feels so nice that even the massage seems unnecessary now and you hug Peter when you see him again after the spa. Hugging him almost feels like a second massage.

You start getting ready for dinner a few hours later. “Have you seen my lip balm?” You walk into the bathroom to ask Peter. The smell of his cologne hits you as soon as you’re in the room, “You smell good,” it comes out of your mouth the second you’re thinking it.

He smiles, “Thanks. And I think your lip balm was on the table next to the bed.”

You don’t move. His scent is intoxicating. It’s earthy and sweet and it’s exactly Peter.

“Have you been wearing that all week?” 

“No, I found it in my suitcase today. Forgot I brought it with me, it’s new.”

“Well, it’s really, really nice,” still not leaving the room, you’re now in front of Peter, trying to get his scent to take over your whole being.

He smiles at you, putting down the gel he was applying to his hair.

“Give me another smell,” you say, ignoring the heat on your face, and you lean forward to smell where he sprayed the cologne on his neck. You close your eyes and inhale it, feeling stupid but you also couldn’t care less because the scent is perfect for Peter and you want to bury yourself in him now. Even more than usual.

“You like it?” He giggles, his face getting red now.

“Mhmm, this makes me wanna eat you up. I’ve never smelled anything this good,” you can’t control what you’re saying anymore, it’s just your body responding to him and his cologne. That, and the feelings and want for him that you’ve felt for years.

“We-we can get room service and you can just, like, smell me all night,” he smiles awkwardly and you fall for him even more.

“You’re so cute,” you say, placing a kiss on the side of his neck, getting a last smell before you force yourself away.

You get your lip balm and sit on the bed, using your phone camera as a mirror while you apply it. When you’re done, you look past the opened bathroom door, finding Peter still flustered, his eyes still following you. He scratches the back of his head when he sees you noticing him, “I, uh… yeah,” he closes the door a bit and goes back to touching his hair.

You’re looking out of the window while you wait for MJ and Chris to be ready for dinner, Peter lying on the bed. You’re admiring the view of the ocean, with the sunset giving the waves a red glow.

When you turn around another wave of Peter’s cologne hits you and literally makes you weak in your knees. You don’t know how much longer you can do this. You decide to finally do something. You’re not getting anywhere like this.

When you sit down on the bed, you straddle Peter, “Do you plan on giving in soon?” You ask, placing your hands on his shoulders, “Cause I’d really love to fuck you to this view before we go.”

Peter’s mouth is open, but nothing comes out. His hands find your hips and he looks outside, taking in the view as he nervously swallows. He stutters something but the words won’t come out and when he adjusts his position his hips push up against yours, making you flustered too.

You don’t say anything but you both just start grinning. Despite you sitting on top of him right now, the romantic energy between surfaces. 

It’s not all about sex, and deep down you’ve known it for a while. You’ve been looking for a grand gesture when really it’s obvious from all the small things Peter does and says to you, even how he looks at you has always made you feel like there’s more. You were just too scared to risk it and lose your best friend. But now you’re ready. Finally.

You cup his cheek as you both lean in. 

Then there’s a knock. You don’t move, both considering if you should just ignore it and finally get to kiss each other after being interrupted god knows how many times.

You decide to kiss him but just before your lips are on his, MJ shouts, “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

“Coming,” you say, slowly getting off of Peter and recomposing yourself. Peter doesn’t actually roll his eyes but the bashful smile he gives you before you open the door suggests that that’s exactly what he wants to do. You squeeze his hand before going out into the hallway.

Dinner feels like one whole night and one whole day and at the same time like ten seconds, the divine scent of his cologne still killing you whenever he leans closer to you. At some point, you see Peter’s leg nervously bouncing up and down and you put your hand on his knee, calming him.

You hope you haven’t made him too nervous. It just felt right in that moment. But he seemed to enjoy it too, happy that you finally made a move; it just wasn’t ideal that you were interrupted yet again. And you hope you didn’t put any pressure on him to have sex with you while you’re still on holiday. The romantic side is much more important than the sexual one to you, but you know he doesn’t have a lot of sexual experience and worries about this kind of thing.

You try to get him alone all night, not only to kiss him but more so to reassure him, to tell him it’s okay just in case he wants to wait, but somehow MJ and Chris are always with you. You‘re not sure if he‘s ignoring you or if he‘s simply too worried to look at you and not see in your gaze what he wants. Or maybe he’s not even ignoring you at all and you’re the one who’s worrying. You just want to pull him to the side and kiss him and tell him it‘s okay and you like him. 

Before you all go up to your rooms, you go for a walk along the beach. Peter pulls you to sit down with him while MJ and Chris continue walking. You can tell he wants to do something, or say something at least but there are too many people. 

So instead of talking or kissing you just put your head on his shoulder and hope that he feels as nice as you do when you‘re together. The kiss he places on your head tells you that he at least feels something. 

Maybe this trip isn‘t where you and Peter kiss for the first time, and that‘s okay. Maybe it‘s just a wonderful trip to Mexico with your best friends and that‘s more than enough. 

You wordlessly walk up to your room together, and you lazily unlock the door and close it when Peter is inside too. 

Just as you turn around to walk to the bed, Peter‘s hands gently find your waist and he walks you back to the closed door, carefully pressing your back against it. 

He quickly looks from your eyes to your lips and back again and asks, “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart wildly flutters in your chest and you grip Peter’s shirt out of instinct, “You don’t have to ask,” you whisper and you both start smiling as you lean in for the kiss. 

You fully expect something to come between you again, a knock, or maybe a fire alarm, or a phone ringing. But this time the universe gives you your moment and lets you kiss Peter. 

It’s everything you ever wanted, and you’re addicted to him immediately. You’re addicted to the feeling of his smile against your mouth and you’re addicted to how his lips taste and how his hand wanders down to your thigh. You wrap your leg around his hip, his hand staying on your leg, holding you there as if his life depended on it. 

You lean back against the door and wrap one arm around Peter’s shoulders and the other one under his arm, placing your hand on his back to grab his shirt again. You feel too good, you have to just grab something to channel your energy and pure need into. 

Peter sucks on your bottom lip and you gasp, nearly moaning, and you push your tongue between his lips. You’re nearly overwhelmed with how much is going on, how badly you need him and how badly he needs you. 

You pull back from the kiss but Peter can’t let go of your lips yet, chasing them and giving you five more quick kisses until he can tear himself away. You link your hands together behind his back to keep him close, both of you still panting and grinning. 

“You were so on edge during dinner after I told you I want you, I wasn’t sure if you were nervous about having to reject me later,” you smile, now able to be honest because you know you were wrong. 

“I was dying from anticipation. There were so many moments in the last few days when we nearly kissed and it was killing me that we never got to actually do it. Then you were literally on top of me, and somehow it still didn’t happen.”

“Well, it’s finally happening,” you smile and kiss him again, your hand on his cheek. 

Without letting go of your lips, he tries to pull you to the bed but you both stumble and decide you can stop kissing until you’re sitting on the bed. 

“So,” he kisses you, “I haven’t been imagining how you’ve been in the last few days? You really do like me?”

“I do. And have for ages. But I didn’t know if you felt the same and didn’t wanna risk ruining our frienship. But when I saw you jerking off with my underwear, things got a little clearer,” you tease, kissing him again but his mouth is open and he’s mortified. 

“I-I thought you didn’t see. I’m so sorry, it wasn’t okay of me and—”

“Shh, Peter. I don’t mind, it’s okay, good even. It was so hot I had to go sit down for a few minutes to calm down.”

His smile returns and he lets out a relieved breath. But just as he opens his mouth he realises, at the same time as you, how hot it is in your room. You both look up and realise you forgot to turn the AC on before leaving for dinner, and it’s boiling. 

“Fuck,” Peter says as he gets up to switch it back on. You see how his shirt sticks to his back and you feel a bead of sweat running down your belly, and it makes you really realise how hot it is. The kissing didn’t exactly cool you down either.

“Can I shower first?” You ask, a charming smile on your face but when you meet Peter’s eyes you realise, “Oh. Or we could, like, shower together?”

“Save water?” He muses, licking his lips at the idea. 

You walk over to him, playing with his shirt again, “I can, you know, put my bikini on or something if you want.”

“Oh—no, no you don’t have to. Unless that’s what you want, I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” you say and pull your top over your head and slip out of your skirt, “You coming?” You ask, walking into the bathroom and taking off your underwear. Peter nearly trips when he takes off his shirt and then nearly falls again when he pulls off his trousers. Now you remember why teasing Peter is so much fun. As long as you know you’ve got him, it’s fun to play with him. 

You turn the water on and step into the shower together. 

“You’re drooling,” you tell him and gently push his chin up to close his mouth. 

“Yeah. Because you look like this,” you feel your cheeks heating up at his compliment and you kiss him to distract from it. You know that you’re beautiful but it’s still nice to hear it from the man you like. And you know Peter would like you naked no matter what your body looks like but the straightforward compliment makes you even more confident. 

Peter kisses your shoulders and neck and face whenever he has the chance while you’re in the shower. You kiss him back every time and the anticipation of what’s to come is killing you. 

He squirms every time his hard dick brushes up against you, profusely apologising and covering himself with his hands or turning away. But this time you grab his shoulders so he stays facing you and you kiss him, gliding your hands down his abs until you’re touching him where he really wants you. 

“This okay?” You ask, your fingertip lightly running down the length of him. 

“Fuck— yeah.” He’s already panting and you haven’t even started yet. 

You look into his eyes as you start stroking him. You turn down the water and the pearls of water drip down both your bodies. 

You don’t have to say anything and neither does he. Your thumb gently glides over the head of his cock and Peter puts one hand over your shoulder and against the wall to hold himself up, trapping you between him and the wall but you wouldn’t wish to be anywhere else. 

He’s having a hard time keeping his eyes open and his mouth closed, moans escaping every few moments. You know he’s on the edge and that’s when you start speeding up and finally looking down as you stroke him. 

He has no time to warn you when he cums. You’re jerking him off onto your belly, his cum landing on your stomach. You’re getting so wet watching him cum, his eyes squeezed shut and his eyebrows pulled together, mouth open in a groan. 

You’re out of breath too as you finish touching him, squeezing him to prolong his pleasure as much as you can. He leans forward to rest his forehead against yours when he’s finished, opening his eyes to look right into yours, kissing you for what feels like an eternity. 

You frown when he gently washes your belly to clean his cum off of you and when he sees your pout he quickly kisses it away. 

“What?” He asks, a teasing smile on his lips. 

“Nothing,” you shake your head and kiss him before he can ask more questions. You have enough time to figure out each other’s kinks but now it’s your turn. 

It’s like he reads your mind because when you turn around to turn the water off fully you feel his lips on your neck, making his way down your back with soft kisses to your wet skin. He’s breathing heavily again, just from kissing your body. “Hmm?” You hum and his response is a small bite into your bum cheek. 

He’s kneeling behind you now and you take a step back and lean your chest against the wall to give him better access. He’s slow, and you don’t know if it’s just him being gentle or if he’s deliberately teasing you, so you push back into him. 

He answers your command immediately and spreads your ass cheeks, pressing a kiss onto your pussy. His lips go back to your ass cheeks, kissing your skin there while he reaches around your hips to play with your clit. 

But you can’t have his mouth so close on you and not have him use it, so you turn around and put one leg on his shoulder. “Can you eat me out?” You ask, not sure how far Peter wants to go yet. But he nods eagerly and his tongue is between your legs immediately. 

He looks up at you as he starts eating your pussy, his hand lifting your thigh. He stops for a second, “You’re so fucking pretty.” You grin and bury your hand in his hair, pushing him closer to your pussy again. 

He smiles before he starts running his tongue up and down your pussy, sucking on your clit every now and then. Your legs buckle every time he does it and no matter how good it feels, you have to ask him to move it into the bedroom because you’re scared you’ll fall over when you cum. 

Peter dries you off and makes out with you while he pulls a towel over himself, waiting for you two to dry enough. Then he carries you to the bed and lies you down, putting one of your legs over his shoulder again when he lies between your thighs, his tongue on your clit. 

Now, freshly showered and naked, with the AC on full blast it’s too cold. “Come closer, I’m cold.”

He looks up, hands still around your hips. “But then I can’t eat you out.”

“Just..” You pull him to sit next to you and place his hand on your clit, lying one of your legs over Peter’s and pulling the other one up against your chest. 

He’s mesmerised as he looks down at your pussy, rubbing your clit up and down and you probably look just as mesmerised looking at his concentrated face. He catches you looking at him and his hand stops moving. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says. You smile, “Mmh, don’t stop.” You move his hand yourself now to rub your pussy with his fingers and he starts moving again, his finger slipping inside of you a few times so he can bring it up to his mouth to taste you again, humming when he does. 

You bring his hand back to your pussy every time, and although you really just want to cum it’s also cute that he doesn’t realise what he’s doing to you, but you’re too tired and too close to coming to talk right now. You’re holding your hand over his now to make sure he keeps touching your clit how you need him to. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he mumbles, his face right next to yours. You start kissing him, half distracted by his fingers on your pussy, and you look down when you’re about to cum.

“Don’t fucking stop, okay? That feels so good—” you moan and kiss his jaw to quieten yourself and this time he gets it, not stopping when he hears your gasps and feels how your hand tightens around his. 

You cum when you start grinding against his hand, your moans quiet and soft in his ear and he doesn’t stop until you’re pulling his hand away. He sucks his fingers into his mouth again, and you take his hand before he gets the second finger. You wrap your lips around his finger and suck off your juices and Peter closes his mouth to muffle the soft moan he lets out. 

“Can I taste you again? Just one second. I need to.” He moves between your legs and you nod with a laugh as his tongue trails up your pussy to taste you, a look of content on his face before you tell him he has to stop because you’re getting too tired. All the feelings of the day are starting to catch up with you and you can’t stifle a yawn. 

“I need to go pee,” you say, kissing him. 

“Noo don’t leave me,” Peter frowns and takes your hand. 

“I’ll just be a minute, you baby,” you kiss him again and scoot to the edge of the bed.

“Your baby,” he says. You look at him and he looks at you and you both cringe at the same time. “Ew sorry, let’s pretend I never said that,” he adds. 

“Said what?”

Peter has underwear and your pyjamas laid out for you when you come out of the bathroom and he kisses you as if he hasn’t seen you in years. Your heart melts.

When you lie down to cuddle before going to sleep Peter pulls you to his side of the bed. “This is where it happened,” he says proudly. 

“What?” You laugh.

“Where everything changed. If you hadn’t say on my lap and asked me when I’d kiss you, I wouldn’t have kissed you tonight and who knows what would have happened then.”

“I’m sure the world would have ended,” you say as you look up, pretending to be deep in thought. You’re just trying to tease him but it really does feel like something special with him. 

“It would have,” he confirms and kisses you on your lips. You’re ready to go to sleep but he starts kissing every part of your body at least once, lifting your legs and flipping you around on your belly to make sure he kisses every part of you. 

“You’re so adorable,” you hold his face when he’s back to your lips and you kiss him on the nose.

He looks at you for a few seconds before he says, “And you’re fucking beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you grin, “You’ve said that.”

“I know. And I’ll say it again. Because it’s the truth.”

“You’re pretty,” you tell him this time and watch his cheeks flush, “What? It’s the truth.” You bury your fingers in his hair, making sure you can look at him and he can’t hide his cute blush from you. 

“You’re prettier.”

You shake your head. “We’re both pretty.”

“No one’s as pretty as you.”

“I like you,” you say, playing with his hair. 

He grins and leans down to kiss you for a bit. “Good. Because I like you too.”

“Really? I find that hard to believe,” you joke, putting on a serious face. 

“I know, but it’s true. That’s why I’m on top of you right now and kissing you.”

“Oh, so that’s why! I wasn’t sure.”

You can’t stop yourself from grinning and kissing Peter again. He gets off of you and lies next to you instead, pulling you close and putting an arm around you. 

You snuggle into his side and put one of your legs between his knees. You don’t have to say much, feeling his fingertips running up and down your spine feels more intimate than anything he could say. 

You turn your head to kiss him one last time before you feel yourself falling asleep.

Day Five 

The next morning, your limbs are still tangled with Peter’s but you make no attempt to move. You watch his face and count the freckles on his nose before his eyes flutter open a while later and he grins as soon as he sees you. 

It’s hard to keep your hands off each other in your hotel room but it’s even harder at the beach, because here you actualy have to. You needed last night to free yourselves of the tension that had been building up between you, all the looks and the closeness and the anticipation, the almost kisses. But right now you just want to cuddle him. 

You’ve decided not to tell MJ and Chris yet. You want to spend some time with just the two of you knowing that you finally did what you’ve been wanting to do for so long. 

It can be for just you and Peter now, and it‘s not like you‘re officially together yet. 

You‘re at the beach now, lying your towels down and getting out your things. You tell Peter to turn around so you can put sunscreen on his back. 

First you’re distracted by how attractive it is when he reaches behind his neck and pulls his shirt off but your smile is wiped off your face when you see how red his entire back is. 

“Oh my god, Peter..”

“What?” He turns his head. 

“You have the biggest sunburn on your back. I’m so sorry,” you frown, gently touching his back to see if it hurts. 

He turns around fully, “It’s not your fault,” he laughs, “And it doesn’t hurt, so don’t worry.”

“But I always put the sunscreen on your back, but I guess I didn’t do it properly.” You know it’s not your fault, but you just don’t want Peter to be hurt and you know you could have prevented it. 

He giggles, “It’s literally fine. Don’t worry, I can’t even feel it.” He leans in to kiss you and you immediately start smiling again. He seems fine so why should you worry. 

You want to keep kissing him but you don‘t want your friends to see yet. 

You slather an extra big amount of sunscreen onto Peter’s back every few hours and manage to keep the touching to a minimum while Chris and MJ are around. 

They don’t catch you until the late afternoon, when you and Peter are asleep on the beach, his arm around you, your head tucked into his shoulder and your leg over his. You could have probably still gotten away with saying it’s just platonic cuddling like you’ve done loads of times before, but when MJ wakes you two up to congratulate you, Peter pulls you closer and sleepily kisses the side of your face. 

You can’t help but smile and lean into him more and you decide it doesn’t really matter that they now know. It just means you can openly be affectionate around them - maybe you’ll even give them a run for their money as the cutest couple around. 

You walk around town hand in hand in the evening, buying souvenirs for your friends at home.

Peter buys you a necklace and you get matching bracelets for him and you. His is a light pink with red and white woven into it, yours is brown and white and baby pink. The bracelets are thin and will probably fall off before you‘re home but you like that you and Peter are matching (ignoring the probably hundreds of tourists that have bought the same bracelets in the last week. But you don‘t care about them, you only care about Peter.)

Peter invites you on a date that entails room service dinner and a film.

Your feet are on Peter’s lap and he’s stroking your leg by the anklet you got a few days ago. You keep freaking out when you’re in the ocean, saying some fish touched your foot but in the end it’s just your anklet.

Peter can never decide whether to laugh or protect you. Usually he picks you up first to show you that it’s just your anklet and once you’re in his arms, bridal style, floating in the water, he starts laughing. You don’t know how you still had doubts when you were doing stuff like that all the time.

You’re sneaking in kisses every few minutes and barely pay attention to the film. At midnight you order another snack that you eat when you start your second movie. You’re in Peter’s lap and he’s holding you as if he’ll never let go. You fall asleep like that. 

Day Six

After you’ve woken up and stretched a bit, you catch Peter standing in front of the window the next morning, looking at the ocean. You hug him from behind and kiss his cheek, “You know what I said about, uh, wanting to have sex to this view - we really don’t have to. No pressure at all. I’m okay with waiting however long you want to, I just said that to tease you.”

Peter turns around, his mouth open. “No, no. I want to. I want you to fuck me all day, every day, whenever, wherever.”

“Oh,” you smile, kissing him, “Good. We can arrange that.”

He turns you around and lifts your legs up around his waist, pressing you against the window. He starts kissing you gently and you take his face into your hands as you eagerly kiss him back. 

Just as your hand slides down his front, his tummy growls loudly. His smile turns shy and he looks down, “Maybe I should uh, maybe I need some food first.”

“Good idea,” you pat his stomach and hold his hand as you make your way downstairs for breakfast. 

You end up going to the pool with MJ and Chris but you and Peter are both thinking about sex. Your subtle glances and his not-so-subtle glances excite you both and you only manage fourty-five minutes before you sneak upstairs. 

You trip on your way to the bed but Peter catches you, carefully lowering you onto the floor and following you. You’re making out on the floor for a few minutes before you take off your bikini top. 

Peter‘s hands reach out for your waist, his eyes glued to your chest. “Can.. Can I?” He asks, voice shaky and excited. You take his hands and place them on your tits as you grind your hips up and into his but he’s not as eager as you anymore. 

He’s licking his lips, breaths broken and shallow. You stop what you’re doing and take his hands off your chest. “Are you nervous?”

“I don’t know. No. Kind of. I’ve never been with anyone that I’ve wanted to impress as much as I wanna impress you.”

You don’t know how many (or how few) people Peter has slept with exactly and you won’t ask if he doesn’t bring it up himself, you don’t care. What you do care about is that Peter is relaxed and comfortable. That’s how you feel when you’re with him. 

“I promise you, you impress me just by being you. And to have you care about my pleasure is all that I need,” you kiss him and he relaxes into you. His smile lights up his face, and his shoulders relax but his hips become more tense as he pushes into you. 

“You wanna do this?” You mumble against his face. He responds by moaning into your mouth, kissing you deeper but you pull away. 

“You need to say it,” you whisper, holding his hand as you start kissing along his jaw. 

“Yes, of course I wanna do this. I’ve waited all my life to be with you.” You know it’s an exaggeration, you’ve only known him for a few years. But it feels like that for you too. You’ve waited all your life for him. 

You get up and pull Peter with you, slipping out of your bikini pants before you lie on the bed. He quickly takes off his shorts, his upper thighs slightly lighter than the rest of his tanned legs, the sight making you smile. 

“C’mere,” you take his hand to pull him to the bed with you but your smile falls when you realise, “Oh. I don’t have any condoms.”

Peter looks down and gets off of the bed, “Uh I.. I have some.” He takes some out of his suitcase and joins you again. 

You smirk, “Were you planning this?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later,” he mumbles quickly and starts kissing you again, hovering over you. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, your lips on his face and his jaw and his neck and his shoulders. You reach for the condoms but Peter stops you, his cheeks pink. “I wanna go down on you first.”

He kisses down your body quickly and you bury your hand in his hair as he lifts your legs over his shoulders and wraps his arms around your thighs. 

His lips are on your inner thighs first and then on your hair above your pussy. “Peter…” you whisper, not allowing your voice to be louder because you know it’ll sound desperate. 

He looks up and his eyes meet yours. Your look in them must be enough to tell him what you need because he spends no more time teasing you. 

His tongue is on your pussy in an instant, playing with your clit as if his life depended on it. He’s much better than he was a few days ago and you wonder how much he’s thought about it since then. 

You let yourself sink into the pillows and you spread your legs more; you’re doused in pleasure. One hand on your belly, the other spreading your lips, Peter is fully engrossed in eating you out, his mouth loud against your wet pussy. 

“Fuck,” you moan, your hand in Peter’s hair tightening when he gets faster with his movements, tongue flicking against your clit. 

You don’t know who’s moaning more; you’re biting into the back of your hand - because you’d hate to be that hotel couple that has loud sex - and Peter’s moans are muffled by your pussy. 

It’s hard to say anything when he has you so close to coming so fast, and the only thing you can do as you cum is grip his hair harder and let the waves of pleasure roll through you, Peter sucking your clit. 

When you come down from your high, you ease your grip on Peter’s hair while he keeps kissing your clit a few times. “Ow,” he says. 

“W-what?” You lift your head up, still dazed. 

“My hair,” he says, but he’s smiling so you know you haven’t seriously hurt him. 

You sit up, pulling your legs away from Peter’s grip and kiss the top of his head a few times, “I’m sorry,” you mumble into his soft and messy strands. 

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” he says and pulls your chin down so you can kiss his lips instead of his hair. You make out for a few minutes, hands wandering but you haven’t touched him where he really needs it yet. 

You sit back and put the condom on him. “Can you be on top?” Peter asks, a shy grin gracing his face. 

“Mhmm,” you say and switch positions, fluffing up the pillows for Peter before he lies down and he grins at your gesture as if you just gave him a diamond ring. You lean down to kiss him, your hands on his cheeks.

He puts his hands on your hips when you sit up. You place a hand on his chest to steady yourself when you take his dick and rub it through your folds a few times, your knees feeling weaker from the stimulation on your clit.

“Fuck, I need you,” he moans, his hands gripping you tighter. You don’t want to go even another second without him inside of you either so you slowly sit down on him, both of you gasping when he’s fully inside of you.

“Mmm,” you close your eyes, feeling him inside of you and adjusting. You slowly start moving and find a rhythm that feels good. He‘s filling you so good and it feels even better when he starts rubbing your clit. 

You open your eyes when you start moving faster, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside with every time you come down. Peter’s eyes are locked on you. He looks as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing right now, that you’re actually this beautiful. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he says, voice half broken from how desperate he is, “And you’re so fucking wet, oh my god, and so so pretty. And so–fuck.” He’s losing track of what he’s saying, his hand now on your ass. His thumb on your clit is sloppy and he’s unfocused but you can’t blame him. 

You take his hands and place one on your chest, and he gently squeezes you, thumb playing with your nipple. You put his other arm around your waist and lean forward, your chest closer to his, so you’re close enough to kiss him, and you do.

You lift up your ass while you start rubbing your clit just how you like it, tracing tight circles on your pussy. Peter holds your waist tight and starts fucking into you from below, his skin slapping against yours - you don’t know if that’s louder or if your moans are, but all you can focus on is Peter’s face in front of yours, and the sounds of him thrusting into your wet pussy.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Peter says in between breaths and gasps and moans. 

You have a hand next to his head to hold yourself up, the other one on your clit, and you’re so so close, you can almost taste it.

“Me too, me too me too,” you squeak, eyes closing as your orgasm washes through you and you let out a long gasp. Peter starts fucking you faster, compliments on his lips that you can barely hear through your pleasure and his mumbling while he cums with you.

It both takes you a while to come down from your highs. You collapse and he catches you, holding you tight while you both get your heartbeat back to normal. When you’ve calmed down, you turn your face to look at him, only to find him softly smiling at you already.

“That was better than I ever dreamed of,” Peter tells you, and you grin and take his face to kiss him.

“I’m so glad we finally did this. I love being with you,” you say, cuddling back into his side.

“Me too.” He beams, kissing your temple and not letting you go.

You shower together, lazily massaging the shower gel onto each other’s bodies, kissing the other every chance you get. You cuddle while you have your towels around your bodies, waiting much longer than you need to to dry off. You just don’t want to let him go. When you peek past the closed curtains in your room, you see that it‘s still light outside. 

You go back to the beach, hand in hand, to look at the ocean, maybe read something or listen to some music. Or just to lie next to Peter. Yeah, that sounds good.

“Hope you used protection,” MJ briefly looks up from her book and you feel the skin on your face burning up. You give her a dirty look and turn to Peter. 

“I was gonna ask, where did you get them?” You ask Peter quietly and he looks away quickly.

“Uh… May gave them to me. Just in case.”

You hide your face in Peter’s neck, not sure if you can look May in the eyes again for a while. You know she’s definitely no prude, and you imagine it was great growing up with her, with proper sex education. But you did not need to know that. “Was I that obvious?”

“No, I was obvious and she’s always known that I like you. And we did talk about you last week. She‘s my best friend, after you, she knows almost everything.”

You kiss him and smile, looking out into the ocean, the sand covering your feet, and you realise how lucky you are to experience something like this. A beautiful trip with your beautiful friends and beautiful Peter.

It wasn’t how you imagined your vacation to go. Not at all. Instead of a girls trip it turned into a one week long double date, but you loved sharing the experience with MJ. You’re both happy, so it’s a good holiday, whether it was how you expected or not.

While you’re getting ready for bed that night, you get a few texts from MJ. She’s sent you a bunch of pictures and the word ‘Ew’.

They’re all pictures of you and Peter, mostly you taking a nap with your head on his shoulder. One at the airport, on in the plane, and at least four of you and Peter sleeping at the beach and pool.

Peter comes up behind you and you show him the pictures.

You grin at him while he looks at them and he puts his arms around your waist, holding you from behind. “You’re so beautiful,” he says but you know he means so much more than just that. He’s happy that you feel so safe around him, safe enough to sleep anywhere, as long as you have him to protect you. He’s asleep in some of the pictures too, but those are even more beautiful. You want to print them out and hang them up everywhere.

There are more pictures, some with the stunning view of the ocean in the back. You and Peter are just talking in them, but both of your faces are lit up so brightly, grins so wide. And those photos were from before you kissed. If you’d seen yourself and Peter from the outside, you would have never doubted that you’re meant for each other.

You turn around to kiss him when you’ve looked at all the pictures, and you make out for a few minutes, his warm lips pressed against your mouth.

You know it won’t lead to sex, you just want to kiss him, appreciate him, show him how much he means to you.

“I want to print out the pictures and permanently tape them to my forehead,” he says and you let out the loudest laugh, and he looks at you like this was the moment he decided to give you his whole heart. 

But it’s your last full day tomorrow, and you worry what will happen after.

When you come back to the mundane everyday life full of studying and work and being busy. But when you look at Peter and watch him fall asleep, his gentle snores calming down your heartbeat, you can only think of this moment; and it’s gorgeous. You have nothing to worry about.

Day Seven

The last day feels like it lasts only a few hours. You make use of your all-inclusive package one last time, going to the beach and the pool and the spa, getting your favourite foods and cocktails. You watch the sunset from the beach and all talk late into the night, going on a last walk through the balmy evening.

You’re tired when you come up to your room but you toss and turn for at least half an hour before you realise you don’t want to go to sleep. You don’t want this holiday to end.

“Are you awake?” Peter whispers from beside you.

“Yeah, can’t sleep,” you turn around to get closer to him.

“Same,” he says, kissing your cheek and holding you.

Your eyes have adjusted to the darkness in the room, and they land on the bathtub that’s in the middle of the bedroom. “We never used that,” you point towards it.

“Is it an actual bathtub that you can use? I thought it was a weird decoration.”

With that, you’re up on your feet and Peter opens one of the curtains, the light of the moon illuminating the whole room through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and he opens all the curtains. It looks magical.

You open the tap of the tub and the water comes out, “I’m getting in,” you say, taking off your shirt and underwear and Peter quickly undresses too.

The bathtub is huge but you still stay close to Peter while the tub is still filling up. First you lie between his legs, his arms around you, but you’re awake now and Peter’s erection poking into your backside certainly isn’t making you sleepy either. You turn off the tap early so you don’t make a mess and splash water all over the floor (and so you don’t drown while trying to suck Peter’s dick).

You turn around so you’re on your hands and knees in front of Peter. “Hi,” you smirk, your eyes trailing from his face down his body.

“Hi,” he says, eyes following yours to his dick, and he puts his hands over it, “I don’t… uh, we don’t have to do anything. It’s just you’re naked and you were like right here.” You kiss him to get him to stop talking, and you take his hands away from his lap.

“I wanna go down on you,” you tell him, kissing his neck. He nods so hard that you hear a click in his neck but he says he’s fine.

You kiss his chest and lick your way down his abs, letting your tongue glide down his happy trail. His abs are contracted and tense, he’s waiting for you to finally touch him, but you gently squeeze his thighs to tease him some more first.

When he tries but fails to stop a whimper from escaping him, you decide he’s earned it.

You bend down to lick the head of his cock as lightly as you can, your tongue barely touching his skin. Peter’s gripping the edge of the bathtub now, trying not to make any noise from how needy he is.

Finally letting him have it, you wrap your lips around him, letting your spit drip down. You take him further, your wet mouth on his dick. You look up at Peter, and you can tell he’s trying so hard not to cum yet, and it nearly makes him look like he’s in pain when really he’s feeling too much pleasure.

“Fuuckk,” he groans, cupping your face with one hand as you take him into your mouth once more, going all the way down until his hairs tickle your lips. You pull your lips off of him and kiss up the side of his cock, your tongue leaving a light trail of spit on him.

You’re about to wrap your lips around him again, but he stops you. “If you wanna continue after this you have to stop now because I’m about to cum.” You frown for a second but then sit up. You still wanna feel him inside of you tonight and you’ll have plenty of time to suck his dick in the future, when he can maybe go more than once because it’s not the middle of the night.

He pulls you up so you can kiss him and you immediately get lost in it. You don’t know how you’ve gone all your life without kissing Peter Parker every day.

He sneaks a hand between your legs and you grind against it, it feels nice with your lower body half just barely in the water. Your pussy is right at the surface of the water, and the splashing against your clit adds something light and teasing that makes you feel so fucking nice. You definitely need to opt for a bath instead of a shower more often.

“I’m so fucking wet, Pete. I want you now,” you whisper into his ear, carefully taking his earlobe between your teeth. Peter sighs when you do it, and starts mumbling something. You patiently wait for him to recompose himself, to drag himself out of the pleasure and his dazed mind to say what he wants to say.

“I’m wet too,” he says, gesturing to the water and smiling all proudly at his joke.

You kiss him, not being able to stop yourself from loving the joke, “You’re ridiculous,” you laugh, “Get the condoms.” He reaches for them, half hanging out of the bathtub to get them from the small table by the foot of the bed.

Taking advantage of all the space you have in this bathtub, you turn around and lean forward to get into a reverse cowgirl position. Peter grabs your ass and spreads your cheeks, reaching between your legs, his middle finger finding your clit and playing with it. You look back at him with a smile on your face, but you can’t decide if you should start fucking him or let him make you cum first.

His eyes meet yours and he leans forward to kiss your back. “You’re so gorgeous,” he says, eyes not leaving your face and it makes you turn around completely just so you can properly kiss him.

You turn back around and wrap your hand around him so you can guide him to your pussy. With Peter’s hands on your ass, you lower yourself onto him, and his hands go to your waist to steady you.

Even though you just want to look back at Peter, you force yourself to look out of the window. You said you’d fuck him to this view. The moon casts a white shine on the ocean and the waves almost have the same rhythm as the water splashing around in the bath while you ride Peter. 

You reach back to pull his hand so you can show him the view too, but he’s looking at your pussy swallowing his dick with every one of your bounces.

“No, look at the moon,” you laugh, stopping your movements.

“You’re more beautiful,” he says, not taking his eyes off you, “Only wanna look at you.” You roll your eyes and grab his face to look out of the huge windows.

“Oh, that is quite nice,” he says, surprise in his voice, “But I’d still rather look at you.”

You lick your lips when you feel a throb in your pussy and it‘s like your neediness washes all over you more intensely than it did before. You adjust your position so you can sit on Peter‘s dick again but he pulls you towards him. 

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he says quietly and you turn your head to him to smile, making sure he doesn’t think you’re mad, “I’m.. I’m not used to it yet so uh, can I make you cum first?”

You nod with a soft smile, “Mhm. Where do you want me?”

He pulls you to sit between his legs, your back against his chest, and he reaches his arm around you and finds your clit. “Wait,” you say, sitting up more and bending your legs. You line him up with your pussy and slowly sink down on his cock. 

With no effort at all, Peter supports you enough so you’re comfortable sitting on him. You close your eyes and try to focus on Peter’s finger on your clit, focus on how good it feels to be pressed up against him, both of your bodies comfortably wet and slotted into each other.

Every time you squeeze around him or lean back against him some more, you hear Peter’s quiet moans right in your ear. You reach back to put your hand on the side of his neck, holding him even closer as he rubs circles into your clit while he’s fully inside of you, moving ever so slightly.

You communicate via moans and gasps, the silence is peaceful and you can just cherish the feeling of him rubbing your clit, hearing nothing but your lover’s quiet noises and your wet pussy. You let out a high-pitched gasp when you reach your high, your eyes screwed shut as the pleasure pulses through you.

Your pussy squeezing him tightly, Peter lifts you up a bit so he can fuck into you, but he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit. Your voices and the splashing subside a little bit after you both stop moving and he turns your face to kiss you.

You let in some new water to take a proper bath this time and you wrap your whole body around Peter’s, sitting in his lap and facing him this time.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Of course.”

He takes a deep breath, and you can feel his heart hammering in his chest.

“Um. I know it’s early, I know it’s so so early. And it’s totally okay if you need more time. But I was just wondering, because, you know, I really really like you and I have for so long. And I just.. do you want to, or I mean maybe we could.. make this official and.. do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You bite your lip to stop your smile and pretend to think for a bit. It’s absurd to you that he thinks you might say no. “You’re right. I mean we don’t need a talking stage, we’ve been talking for years and know each other well. We’ve kissed and had sex and spent 24/7 with each other on more occasions than this week,” you try to think of more reasons that you don’t actually have to say out loud but Peter’s face is almost comically frozen in anticipation so you think you’ve teased him enough. 

You kiss him to snap him out of it, “Of course I want to. Do you also wanna be my boyfriend?” You ask in a cute voice, taking his hand. 

“You don’t have to ask,” he says and kisses you, grinning against your face. “Wait, really?” He asks again when he pulls away.

“You really though I’d say no?”

“I hoped you wouldn’t. I couldn’t imagine you would. But it is early, so, you’d have every right to reject me,” he shrugs.

“Yeah but we’ve known each other for so long. Liked each other for so long, so I think it’s a little different than if we’d just met each other last week. I know you, and I know I want to be with you.”

“Same” is all he can say in his adoring daze, looking at you as if you he just discovered love for the first time.

You hug him tight and kiss the side of his head. He squeezes you back and doesn’t let go for a few minutes.

“How about we try out all the features this fancy bathtub has and then we go to bed?” You ask, and Peter nods happily, turning on the faucet closest to him. There are about six different buttons in total. Some make water flow into the bathtub from the sides of it and one turns on the faucet at the other end of the tub. It’s slightly higher than the edge of the bathtub and a thick stream of water comes out in a circular shape, water flowing into the bath. 

Peter smirks at you and turns you around, facing you towards the faucet. He maneouvres you to the other end of the tub and lifts your legs up so they’re folded against your chest. You can’t imagine he’s comfortable with your full body weight on him, but he chose to put himself into this position.

You giggle when you realise that he’s trying to position your pussy under the stream so you can cum again, “I like the way you think.”

After some adjusting, the water finally sprays right onto your clit, and you gasp and clutch the edge of the tub when you first feel the stream between your legs. It’s powerful but it’s big, so it’s spread out nicely when it meets your pussy.

You lean your head against Peter’s shoulder, enjoying the way he’s holding you and how good the water feels on your clit.

Peter starts whispering compliments into your ear, kissing the side of your face or your neck every few moments.

“You’re so fucking pretty. And you’re the sexiest woman who has ever walked this earth,” he kisses your shoulder and looks over it, watching the stream of water, “And I’m so jealous of this water because it’s touching your pussy right now and I’m not.”

You laugh and quickly kiss his cheek, “Is that your idea of dirty talk?” 

“Maybe. I mean it’s working, you can’t tell me you’re not wet,” he lifts his eyebrows.

“No more wet jokes, okay, I just wanna cum and go to sleep.”

You hear a hum of agreement from Peter and hold one of his hands, placing it on your tummy and moving so your pussy is back under the stream. Peter lets go of your hand and his fingers wander down to your thigh, spreading your legs some more.

He moves to your pussy and spreads your lips, making the water go directly onto your clit. “Yes, yes, fuck. Just like that,” you gasp and flinch as you immediately feel close to an orgasm.

You try to move your hips up to get more friction but the water isn’t quite enough and a whimper makes its way past your lips - you’re so close. Suddenly you feel Peter’s finger on your clit and it’s exactly what you need to finally tip over the edge. You put your hand on his just to make sure he keeps going until you’re finished. It’s the best orgasm you’ve had in days. It reaches your whole body, soaking you in bliss from head to toe. 

Your body goes slack on top of Peter’s but he scoots back and lets you lean your head against his chest. You look up and he kisses you from above, missing your lips but it doesn’t matter because you’re close to him either way.

“I wish I had a bathtub as big as that at home,” you say, your eyes closed, sinking into Peter’s arms.

He huffs out a small laugh and tightens his arms around you, “I’m sure we’ll manage to have sex in your small bath too.”

You sit up, the water splashing around your sides, “Who says I wasn’t just thinking about taking a nice innocent bath in a big bathtub?”

“I know you too well for that,” he strokes your belly, hand going up and down, the water moving slightly with Peter.

“You do know me well,” you lean up to kiss his jaw and before you sit back down, you look into his eyes. They’re looking right back into yours and you feel like you could just stay like that for days and not get bored.

“I…” you start, stopping yourself from saying something stupid. You only just officially started your relationship, and even that happened very early. You’re probably just confused and tired and in the honeymoon phase, but you don’t want to say those three words too early, so instead you say, “I think we should go to bed. My fingers are all wrinkly.” 

You lift your hands to show Peter, but he takes them and kisses all your knuckles and then your fingertips individually. You stay in the bath for a few more minutes, just kissing.

Last Day 

Your flight back home isn’t until noon, but since you stayed up for so long you sleep longer and end up stressing about making it to the airport in time anyway. 

You make it to the plane and somehow luck is on your side, because the third seat next to you and Peter is empty, so you have more space in your row. 

As the crew closes the door and does their security announcement and demonstrations, you feel your heartbeat picking up speed. With all the stress of getting here, you forgot about the stress you might have once you’re on here.

A baby starts crying somewhere in the back and a cat in the row in front of you keeps scratching the travel box it’s in and their owner is bashfully trying to shush their cat but that only makes more noise. 

It’s overstimulating and you feel sweat gathering under your arms. Forcing yourself to take deep breaths isn’t helping much.

Suddenly you feel Peter’s hand on yours and you look up to see him smiling softly, holding up his big over-ear headphones. “Thanks,” you say, turning towards him so he can fit them over your ears and adjust them over your head. It’s already quieter and calmer, now you only have to worry about your fear of taking off and landing, not the noises around you.

You laugh when Peter turns on the music and it’s some nature inspired meditation song, “Normal music is fine,” you smile, lifting off one side of the headphones “Are you sure you don’t want your headphones?”

“I’m fine. Do you want some space? Since there is some,” he nods towards the empty seat.

You shake your head, “No, I wanna hold your hand. But thanks.” Peter kisses your cheek and you take your intertwined hands into your lap, putting on some music and closing your eyes.

A few minutes later, when you’re calmer but still on edge, you only hear the end of an announcement through the plane’s speakers.

Peter leans in to fill you in and tell you that you missed your slot and might need to wait another thirty minutes or longer until you can take off. You take a deep breath and try to focus on that. You can’t do anything about it but at least you get thirty more minutes of peace.

Peter puts his arm around you and pulls you into his side when you yawn, and you relax against his shoulder. You open your eyes every few minutes, waiting to catch MJ taking another picture of you from between the seats in front of you, where she and Chris are sitting. But the third time you open your eyes, expecting to find MJ taking a picture, you look out the window and realise you’re above the clouds.

You check your phone but you’ve only been asleep for about twenty minutes. You look at Peter, your eyes still sleepy and half shut. The smile he gives you is sheepish.

“What?” You ask.

“When they made the announcement they may have only said that they’ll be fifteen more minutes. But I knew you were tired so I hoped you would be able to relax and fall asleep so you wouldn’t be awake for the take off.”

You press a quick kiss to his cheek. What he did wasn’t a big gesture and there was no guarantee it would work. But he tried anyway and it helped you avoid a whole lot of panic.

You’re looking at him and you see the tenderness and warmth in his eyes and you can only imagine there’s a similar look of adoration in yours.

“I love you,” you say, smiling softly, and then your face falls when you realise what you just said. “Shit, sorry. Oh god that was way too early I—”

“Did you mean it?” He asks, face nothing like the woman he kissed for the first time this week just told him she loves him. 

You swallow and think. You do love him. You’ve loved him as a friend for years now and felt more for him for ages too. You still love him as a friend but now you love him even more. “I mean it.”

He grins as if he just hit the jackpot, “Good, because I love you too.”

You hold the eye contact for a few more moments and then you both laugh quietly, unable to contain the amount of joy there is in you.

Any little doubt you had just flows away. You know that the feelings you have for Peter and what happened between you wasn’t just a result of the holiday magic that made you more careless and lowered your inhibitions. Even on this crowded plane and after the abrupt ending your holiday had with you and Peter oversleeping - you still like him, even more now. You love him, you probably always have. And you have no doubt he feels the same.

You’re jolted awake when you land. You fell asleep on Peter yet again and you don’t know how it’s possible that you feel so nice and comfortable with him that you can fall asleep on him even with your fears right around the corner.

Your fingers are still in his and his thumb is stroking the back of your hand. You can’t take your eyes off of him and he can’t stop looking at you either. You know this was meant to happen, and it would have still happened some other time if he hadn’t come on holiday with you.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve left the paradise you just spent a week in because you’re each other’s escape, every day, no matter where you are. 

He’s your holiday, and you know you’ll start loving him even more every day. The holiday magic had nothing to do with you two finally getting closer, the magic is the feelings you have for each other and the bond you’ve created over all the time you’ve known the other - that’s what has pushed you two closer. 

And the way Peter is smiling at you tells you everything you need to know:

He feels the same, and the real love story is only just beginning.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

[helluvapoison]

I'm looking directly at your open requests 👀👀 can I pleaaase have something with sir pentious? Maybe after he got redeemed, reader was scared he disappeared after dying, but one day he is granted to talk to reader again and they think they're hallucinating!! Thank you so much in advance, if you decide to take this request <3

i’ll be seeing you

Sir Pentious x Reader

it hasn’t even been a day after the battle. he’s gone but the world keeps turning right? you have to pull yourself together at some point

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• You stare at his portrait for an unholy amount of time

• Eventually everyone begins to peel away, giving you a gentle squeeze and allowing you to mourn privately. It wasn’t that they didn’t care, and logically you knew that, but so much had happened and there was still so much to do

• You could shamelessly say you were closest to Sie Pentious. Watching him be stolen from existence in a blink of an eye nearly killed you. Literally, you were frozen in place and almost got kabobbed by an angel. If not for Husk and Angel, you would’ve been double dead too

• I should probably thank them for that, you think to yourself as your eyes grow heavy. Maybe tomorrow

• Slinking away, frustration begins to creep in as you maneuver the maze of the new and improved hotel. Where the fuck did you room go?

• At last you managed to find it, kicking the door closed and throwing yourself on the bed. Tomorrow, you will shower. Right now you just wanted t— Bzzt! Bzzt!

• With a growl you yank your phone out, ready to chuck it at the wall when you see who it is

• But it’s… not possible. No. This is a really fucking cruel prank someone decided to pull on you!

• You hesitated. No, no one here would do something like this

• You tap the green button for reasons unknown to even you, “...Hello?”

• “Oh good! I feared it would not work, but I ssstand corrected. Hooray! Hel—“

• His voice has you sitting up so fast your vision blurs. Or is that the tears doing? Fuck it, doesn’t matter. You squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to remain present

• “Pen? Is that—? Is this—? How do I know this is really you?”

• There’s a pause and whispering on the other end that makes your heart plunge into your stomach

• “Hm? Oh! Yes, good idea! She says you need a mirror.”

“Who—?” You cut yourself off with a sigh, “Fine.”

• Flipping the light on, you stand in front of the bathroom mirror only for ice cold disappointment to wash over you head to toe

• It’s stupid. Tears of frustration sting your eyes worse than before. You didn’t really expect to see—

• You gasp and launch yourself at the mirror, grounding yourself with the cool surface the millisecond you see Sir Pentious

• “You’re real!”

• “Of course I am!”

• The tears fall and take your anger away, relief slowly replacing it. He was alive!

• You don’t waste time on how’s or why’s, you immediately tell him how much you miss him and how brave he was and—

• “Please do not cry for me, not when I cannot be there to comfort you. I am well here! I even have a friend who enjoys my ssstories as much as you! Of course it’s… not quite the same.”

• Through the tears and grief, you smile so wide it hurts

• That was absolutely your Pentious

• “Look at you! You look amazing!” You praise

• Pen preens at your compliment, standing straighter and fussing with his bow tie, “Oh, thank you! It’s lovely to see you again… You look rather tired. Perhapsss you should go rest—?”

• “No! No, I can do that later! Right now I wanna talk to you.” You all but shout, climbing onto the counter in a pathetic attempt to be closer to him

• Pentious settles in on his end, prepared to answer all your questions and spend as much time with you as possible

[strangersteddierthings]

Untitled Song

An installment in the The Interview universe.

"This is a love song."

"What? No, it's not!" Steve argues, looking back down at the notebook.

"It reads like a love song. The little bit you just sang for me has love song vibes," Robin leans more of her weight onto Steve's back, where she's standing over his shoulder reading the lyrics.

He stares down at the page. "Yeah. Okay. I see it. But, like, I didn't mean it to be all love song vibey."

"I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute," Robin reads in a flat tone, unimpressed.

"Okay! Stop, I don't- I mean- ugh!" Steve slumps forward, resting his forehead on the page of lyrics. "Okay, fine, but like, in context I'm clearly talking about like, reliving my whole life. I would do it all again."

"Did you just say that this is clearly about your whole life because if so, I want to be on the same drugs as you," Robin pushes off of him to move around the table and plop into the chair across from him. She tries her best to level him with a stare, but he doesn't give her the satisfaction by refusing to lift his head. The downside of being soulmates, she decides. He knows what she's going to do and when and can, therefore, avoid it. "Look, I get that he was, like, your first love and high school sweetheart but he couldn't have been that good of a fuck. It was just inexperience that made-"

"Robin!" Steve shouts over her, looking at her now so she can see his scandalized expression. Ha! She takes it back. It's an upside to being soulmates because she knows exactly what to say to rial him up. "It's not about the sex! It's about all of it. Everything. I don't- what Eddie did was shitty and it fucking hurt, but that was ten years ago. This song is about everything."

She doesn't see it that way, but even with how well she's able to read him, Steve's mind has always had its own way of thinking she can't quite nail down. With a sigh, she says, "Alright. Benefit of doubt time. Explain the song to me."

"It's not just about Eddie. It's about my whole life. You know how my parents were, how high their expectations were and how I had to hide almost everything about me while I lived with them. That's the my life was a storm since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane bit. And if I hadn't dated Eddie, like, at all. Well, I was already on the track to being an asshole in elementary school. Can you imagine who I would have been in high school if I was still that kid?

"It's also, like, if Eddie and I had stayed together... If we hadn't- I hadn't broken up with him, would I have met Dustin? Or Lucas and Max? Will or Mike, Nancy, and Jonathan? It's like, the years directly after Hey Steve were absolute dogshit, yeah, but it brought me all the people I love now," Steve looks down to the page again, either avoiding her eye contact or finding it too much. She's not sure which one. "If Eddie and I had stayed together there was only option for my future. Once the car had been fully put in my name, I'd have told Eddie to pick a city and we'd have left, for Eddie to chase his dream while I chased him. I wouldn't have gone to Chicago with you, never had the money to purchase that first place to live with you. Maybe never have discovered I loved interior design and house renovation. So, I would do it all again. It brought me my family."

She understands, now, what the lyrics really mean to him. However, she's also the one person in the whole world close enough to Steve to actually see it. "I get what you are saying. But these lyrics do not tell that story. Knowing your reasoning behind it does make me see them that way. But no one who hears that is going to know your tragic backstory."

"So, should I re-write this?"

"Depends. What is your goal with this... statement. What is the best case scenario."

Steve blinks at her. "Oh. Uh, best case, huh? I guess... I want to talk to Eddie, again. We parted on real bad terms, and I think I want closure from that?"

She narrows her eyes at him, judging. "Are you angry, like, at all?" She is. She's still furious with Eddie. His fucking song had blown Steve's life up virtually overnight. But also, she had thought they were friends, too. She hadn't realized their friendship was conditional, with that condition being he and Steve having to be in a relationship.

And, yeah, logically she knows she was Steve's friend first and it would be easy to default to believing she'd be on Steve's side but she wasn't. Not at first.

When Steve had shown up at her house, having gone straight from Eddie's to hers after he told them they were over, she'd held him through the night as he cried. But in the morning, she'd told him she needed to check on Eddie. He was her best friend, too. But Wayne told her he was gone, left last night to Chicago. Wayne had offered her a ride there with him, after he got Eddie's van running again and went to take it to him.

She said she'd think about it. Tried to reach out over all the socials, but Eddie didn't even check them, and then Hey Steve came out and there wasn't any room left in her to care about Eddie and his emotional state.

Not anymore. Not when he'd left her, too. Not when, even after Robin had made her own way to fame, he declined to meet with her. She'd tried to reach out but who was she, a new comer to the music scene and barely known, to Eddie Fucking Munson, lead guitarist to Corroded Coffin?

"I mean, sure, but like... it's been ten years. I don't- I have better things to think about than how mad I was... am? at Eddie. We were friends, first, y'know. And it's complicated. You know this," Steve says.

"Yeah, yeah," Robin waves off his words, "you're whole Eddie was a part of my life for longer than he's been gone from it thing. I'm not sure that the fifteen years of your childhood should be counted the same as this decade of adulthood."

"I get that you don't want to forgive him, and that's fine. But, forgiveness or not, I want closure."

"Okay. Keep the song as is."

"Really?"

"Yes," Robin says, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across her face. If Steve records and shares what sounds like a love song, there's almost a 100% chance that Gareth will reach out again. She knows they're expecting to see an angry and hurt Steve, but instead they'll get this? Robin's not above playing unfair. She hopes this breaks Eddie, consumes him with a guilt as deep as the original hurt felt. "I think we should let everyone think it's your sad, pathetic, pining for a decades-old-love song. It'll definitely get Gareth reaching out to me and my team again."

"Gareth's reached out?"

"It's his job. He's Corroded Coffin's PR Manager now, apparently. When Lauri told me Gareth had reached out, I asked to be included in the call. Anyway, not the point. The point is, if you want to talk to Eddie, this love song is the trick."

"It's not a love song!"

"Whatever you say, Dingus. Sing it again so I can imagine the music to go with it."