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hobvitr · 1 year ago

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hi love, how are you? could you do an earth 42 miles morales x reader in enemies to lovers style? i really want to read this <3 thank you

miles morales 42 x reader

fem!reader

genre/warnings: enemies to lovers (kinda), angst, hurt, mentions of being assaulted, fluff, comfort, kissing, miles 42 may be out of character idk, unrevised writing

note: heyy darling!! thank you for this request! i tried my best to make it make sense and i hope it does! just finished it almost passing out from sleep :p recommended song: don't - bryson tiller

sinopses: your neighbor isn't the most friendly to you and you are intrigued by it, until he help you with a bad situation

you were making your way up the stairs of your apartment, humming the song that echoed throughout your earphones. too distracted looking the at the steps, you bump into someone going the opposite direction.

"oh, sorry-" you quickly apologize looking up to see who was it, and to your surprise, it was your neighbor, miles morales. he just stared at you, not bothering to answer or apologize too, and continued to made his way down stairs.

'damn, what a prick...' you thought to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows as you reached your door, carefully unlocking it with your keys. as you entered your cozy home, you throw your shoes at the entrance and made your way to the kitchen.

you started to rewind a little bit your encounters with morales while you gathered ingredients to cook some dinner, noticing that he never directed One word towards you, you didn't even know what his voice sounded like, just muffled when he was chatting briefly with his uncle and it happened that you heard. some neighbors are a pain in the ass but you didn't understand why he was so avoidant around you. although he was pretty unsympathetic he looked like a good person, because his mother, rio, was an angel.

as you were looking throughout the shelves for salt, you realized you needed to go to the grocery store to get some. you sighed with exhaustion, putting your shoes again and picking just your wallet to go down the street. it was already dark now, your classes ended a bit later than expected so you weren't used to go out alone at this time of the night.

as you walked down the street, you didn't realize you were being followed by some tall and pretty much bigger guy than you. anxiety started to burn into your veins as you picked up your pace, but his pace got quicker too. taking a deep breath you just kept going, not so far to the store, but you felt a strong hand hold your arm, making you flinch.

"where do you think you're going, lady?" the buff guy asked, his hold getting tighter around your arm and you started to tear up with fear. "where do you think she's going?" a low voice comes near you, catching your attention. morales?

"fuck off. now, kid." the guy said, reaching to the inside of his coat, but miles was faster, throwing a punch on his face, making the buff guy look like a little bitch now curled on the ground. your eyes widened as you looked at him, then at morales.

"s-sorry" you stutter at miles, not sure what to say. "shouldn't be apologizing" he replies. "y'kay?" he asks, making eye contact with you, scolding you towards the grocery store, not wanting the man to be near you.

"i think so... yeah.." you breathe out, still shaky from the shock it all was. he accompanies you in the store while you get your salt and some candy, and you almost forgot to thank him for probably saving your life. "thank you... so much, actually."

he nod with a slight smile you almost didn't see. your mind race with the thought of asking him why he didn't like you but still punch some guy for your safety. "i'm sorry for asking, but is there a reason why you never talk to me? did i do something wrong? 'cause i really don't know and i would like to improve if i'm being a pain in the ass" your voice filled with a kind of despair.

he stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassed, but he finally answered. "you're fine, i just don't tend to talk to anyone" he didn't seem convincing, but you got along with it anyway.

there wasn't much mystery, really. he had difficult to get to know new people, you just didn't knew about that. you assumed he was popular between the neighborhood and school, but it was a wrong assumption and you still didn't know about it.

"oh, okay" you replied, slightly relieved you were clear. "well, I'm y/n l/n" you extended your arm for a handshake. "I'm no more anyone" you said smiling to him as he shake your hand. "I'm miles morales" he replied with a small grin.

you kept your optimism now that he helped and talked to you. everyday after that day you said the most sympathetic 'hey' at him, and day after day he was opening his shell to you, replying and catching up to know how you and your family are.

you started to feel weird, getting excited to see and talk to him when you two could. nothing wrong to be happy to see a friend, right? right, but wrong assumption. he wasn't just your friend, he was your crush too. when he appeared with braids you could swear you were passing out at the sight. that was the confirmation to your questions about why you felt weird about miles.

your phone vibrate, indicating a new message. you read 'miles 🐈' on the screen, making you pick up to see what was it.

'can u come to the rooftop?'

'sure'

you replied, putting on a coat that he lent to you and a pair of snickers. you made your way through upstairs and made to the rooftop. you saw him sitting on the edge of the roof.

"what's up, morales?" you got closer to him at his right side, supporting your elbows where he was sitting. you were a bit afraid of doing the same as him.

"hey" he replied, looking at you. for whatever reason you were nervous about meeting him, and you did it almost daily. "why'd you called me here?" you asked nonchalantly, faking tranquility.

"i just wanted to see you" his words came out like honey, your heart melting as you heard it, but you can't show your weakness as you don't know how he feels about you. "that's cute" you tease him, a grin escaping from your lips and he bumps you with his elbow. "shut up" you know he was smiling as he said.

"i was thinkin' earlier... that I'm not being honest with you" he started, making you cut eye contact with him. you knew something was up and now you are sure everything was being dumped in trash at real time. you stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt his vent.

"i don't tell you everything, i even lie to you" his tone was low, but you could still hear him, and that was the problem. you didn't want to hear anything more and go home to process everything and cry your eyes out locked in your room. "i don't think we can be friends anymore" he stated, your heart swell completely, tears threatening to fall but you were strong to hold back. "i want to make you happy, i want to love you property" he confessed.

your mind was racing now, trying to understand what he meant exactly, you didn't want to be delusional and state you liked him back, what if he was talking about something else.

"i know you're overthinking right now, there's no need" he chuckled briefly, looking at your poor confused expression. "i like you. more than as a friend" he said clearly, not one misinterpretation was possible to happen now.

you finally looked back at him, teary eyed while you chuckled at your situation and the theatre he made just to confess to you. "fuck, you don't confess to someone like this, miles, you almost killed me" your hand was covering your face, letting some tears roll down your cheeks. "i like you too" you confessed, voice mumbled, as you were still shy to admit it.

he was smiling beautifully, both of you with shining eyes. miles got back to the floor, now standing at your side. "sorry about almost killing you" one of his hands traveled to your cheek, his thumb caressing slightly your soft skin. "can i redeem myself?" he ask with a grin and you reply with one as well. "don't get me waiting" he almost cutted you mid sentence crashing his lips onto yours.

even with the excitement of both of you, the kiss maintained a slow and soft pace, making you smile at the moment. miles placed his other hand at your waist, backing up for air. "we have to catch up all that time we didn't kissed each other" he say, getting a chuckle out of you. "we'll manage it" you winked placing your arms around his neck.

#miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #across the spiderverse x reader #spider man across the spider verse #fem!reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #prowler miles #earth 42 miles morales x you

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trashogram · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day Thirteen — Virginity P.1

Warnings: F!Reader, older man/younger woman, virginity loss, manipulation (not dub/noncon), gentle sex

((Ok this went so long that I have to split it up and I’m so sorry for that!))

There must be something in the air in New Orleans, you eventually decided.

You’d been light-headed since arriving with your childhood girlfriends and chaperone, imbibing all the sights, smells and sounds. It’s a place that you’d only heard about before, but you’re certain that back home will forever pale in comparison as soon as you step foot out on the Square.

The colors made your head spin, and more than once you had to be pulled away from some spectacle before you were lost. Morning turns into midday, with the people of New Orleans bustling about their business — hurrying to catch the streetcar, starting up a new song in a marching band, rushing to get out of the way as horse-drawn carriages roll by — when you’re only a little winded and savoring a hard candy that you see him.

The man is unlike anyone you’ve seen before, able to be elusive until the moment he’s caught your attention. His gangly frame, in shades of red and purple so deep it looks black in spite of the sun, cut an imposing figure in the middle of the friendly warmth surrounding you both. There are slivers of ivory on his person — bones around his neck and skull displayed by the hat atop his head. Royal-shade eyes observed you, brilliant like amethysts and charoite even from afar.

As soon as you met his eye, the stranger smiled and tipped his tall hat in your direction.

And all at once you were falling, but painfully conscious of your every nerve, muscle and bone at the same time. Cherry candy melted on your tongue as you stood there, spellbound.

Your two friends were still inside the dress shop at your back. Your chaperone was tending to them, trusting you to wait until everyone was ready to go. No one was there to witness the unexplainable disappearance of the man across the street with you and no one saw him reappear at your side in mere seconds.

“Enchanté, Mademoiselle.” He kissed the back of your hand.

You were left breathless. “Hello…”

“I couldn’t help noticin’ you from across the way, all by your lonesome. Thought I’d introduce myself.” The man gestured to himself with a shallow bow, not at all put off by your awed hesitance.

“Dr. Facilier. At your service.”

His smooth voice oozed down your spine, warming you, inside and out, until you were a puddle on the well-trodden ground.

Without your friends or your chaperone to keep your head above the clouds, it took only a handful of minutes for Dr. Facilier to spirit you away. His hand hovered around your waist, gentleman-like, as you were guided into a dark alley, turned around one corner and then another. You paused to look at the courtyard that you’d been led into, shrouded in dusky shadow. It was empty, save for a great tree, twisted and barren, as its centerpiece.

Your guide sidled away from you, waiting for you to catch up with practiced patience. A tap of his cane on the brick and flames erupted above a darkling purple door and you stood agape at the sign that read Dr. Facilier’s Voodoo Emporium.

The door opened of its own accord. A sudden and peculiar chill filled the air, but you paid it no mind. You were instead drawn in by the under-lit inside of the Emporium, a moth chasing whatever light you could find. Dr. Facilier slunk through the darkness like a moray in its cave, not missing a beat as he invited you to have a seat at his parlor table.

Nervousness intertwined with excitement until it became a little bird flapping its wings inside of your chest. The man sat across from you, with a manifold of unusual objects behind him, able to glint and glitter like gold treasure buried in sand, and yet you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him.

Far from offended, Dr. Facilier seemed to revel in your gawking, as if he siphoned off of it to coax you closer.

You raised your hand when asked for, and your breath caught as he held it between his. Facilier gently turned your hand over until your palm was raised, ignoring how you squirmed when he ran his finger down the lines of your hand. The low, impassioned tone he used to enthrall you was reminiscent of when you were small, listening to your father narrate stories at bedtime:

A long life full of resplendent love and wealth awaited you. Facilier fashioned you a silvery crown and embedded words of flattery, so pretty and purple like the eyes that arrested you with every glance, into it before placing it on your brow. He made you feel like a princess. One whose destiny was blue skies and sunshine so long as you “followed your heart”.

The only thing to knock the crown right off your head was the end of the reading. You were left yearning, already addicted to the theatrics of this stranger.

And then there was the matter of payment…

Dipping into your purse, you took out what was left of excursion allowance and placed them on the table. Your last few coins looked meager to your own eyes.

In your mind you saw the little bag of candies that you’d coveted less than an hour ago and the thought of it brought a flush to your cheeks. You’d never felt more like a silly child than you did at that moment, head ducked in shame and hands clutching at your skirts.

“It’s all I have left.” You murmured, contrite. “I’m very sorry, sir.”

The doctor’s frown lifted into an indulgent smile, and he offered his hand to you.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Cher.” His deep voice made your tummy flutter. “Good company made up all the difference. We’ll call it square.”

Your eyes widened, darting to the olive branch then up to his mesmerizing stare. There was no sign of discontent, but their glow had been changed out for something less open. You could feel that the window of intimacy had been closed, and were left in the cold of a mere business transaction.

Dr. Facilier was no less amiable as he helped you out of your seat and ushered you to the door. It opened with his assistance this time — another sign that the magic you’d been allowed to feel at your fingertips was now revoked.

The warm natural lighting of the sunshine outside seemed bleak compared with the cool tones and colorful oddities in that little emporium. Your heart thudded over the distant sounds of French horns and toe-tapping.

“Wait!” You grabbed the doorframe, half-turning.

Whatever had seized you then stalled minutely as Dr. Facilier paused.

“You said… that good things would come if I followed my heart…” You swallowed. “Could… could I pass that onto someone else? Maybe you?”

He blinked rapidly, shuffling on his feet as he scrutinized you. At any other time you might’ve felt proud to throw someone older than you for a loop. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins now as you touched your lips briefly.

Dr. Facilier’s gaze landed on your weak miming and he lit up with something charitable. But the airy laugh that followed mocked you.

“Aww, darlin’,” The man shook his head. “There’s no need for that!”

“But I want to.” The words spilled out before you could stop them.

Facilier sighed, exasperated perhaps by your overstaying your welcome. The ghost of that smile didn’t leave at least. “Alright, alright. But you best go back to your little friends soon, doll.”

You could’ve clapped your hands with glee when he acquiesced. Instead you outdid every crazy, stupid, wild thing you’d ever done in your life and grabbed the man’s lapels. With just a bounce on your tiptoes, you caught the shadowman by surprise with a kiss to his plush lips.

The doctor didn’t move for so long that you were deflating as you hung off of him, horror breaking through your rose-tinted glasses.

Then you felt large hands sliding over your shoulders, spindly fingers fanning over your collarbone. Dr. Facilier pressed you into his broad chest, easily shifting back into control with his lips slotted over yours. They moved with practiced ease that you hadn’t mastered yet, enticing you to mirror him. His mustache tickled your upper lip, the only thing you could feel outside of the tingling from each brush of his mouth against yours.

You took little gasping breaths in-between while one of Facilier’s hands coasted through your hair. You were overwhelmed by the fluttering in your chest and coiling in your belly, blisteringly hot as it tightened. A lick at your lower lip wound that coil tighter, eliciting a moan as you staggered in his grip.

Caught up on the moment and your propriety all but forgotten, you allowed him entry. He smothered the rest of your noises with avaricious strokes of his tongue, skilled and noisily wet in a way that was decidedly French.

#dr. facilier #princess and the frog #disney villains #Dr. Facilier x reader #disney villains x reader #nsft #Kinktober #we ain’t even gotten to the damn smut yet 😭

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alwaysthegeorges · 5 months ago

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What Dreams Are Made Of - Peter Parker x Reader (1/2)

Summary - You and Peter are friends. Except when he looks at you like that.

Warnings - Fluff, pining, talks of sex

Word Count - 4.4k

a/n - this went so far from what I had originally imagined. part 2 will be hardcore smut so stay tuned

!gif not mine!

You and Peter Parker were friends. That was all. At least that's what you told yourselves.

As a neighborhood hero yourself, you spent a lot of time with Peter. Being at the "bottom of the food chain" at the Avengers tower had its perks, of course, but it also meant that whenever anyone was too lazy to go get what they needed, you and Peter were tasked with the errands. Thor wanted a sandwich from the deli across town? Whatever. Natasha craved a chocolate cupcake from the bakery right across the street? No problem. Except when they made you take the friendly neighborhood Spiderman with you to get him out of the house.

Peter had the tendency to hole himself up in his room for days when he wasn't saving the city or doing patrols. Legos and whatever online forums he was browsing took up most of his time, which was frustrating to the entire tower, especially you. Totally not because you liked him, but because it wasn't healthy. So, every few days you had gone solo, Tony would drag his young protégé out of his room (sometimes by physical force) and force him to accompany you.

Being one of the few young women living at the tower and working with the team, they all treated you like a younger sister, just like they treated Peter as their younger brother. They all knew you could both hold your own on the battlefield, but they also knew sometimes you needed big sibling advice, needed to be told which side of the wrench to use, or even to be pushed together with your crush so you guys would just kiss already and stop pining. Steve's words, not yours.

What you loved about the team is that they always looked out for the two of you. What you hated was having to go around like their assistants to get them coffee from the 24-hour gas station at 4 a.m. so they could plan for whatever major fundraising event was coming up. If they were up, so were you and Peter, just in case they needed something. It may have been annoying sometimes, but they did so much for you that it only felt right to give that back in the ways you could. So, when coffee was requested for the second time in four hours, and the idea of buying a coffee pot for the tower was waved off, you and Peter headed out to the gas station.

The ding of the bell sounded as the two of you groggily shuffled in, the clerk side-eyeing you like you had just ruined his night by showing up for the second time in a night. As you browsed the aisles separately to shoot the shit, occasionally calling to one another to grab a certain snack, you could feel the long night getting to your brain. Of course, when you got groggy and tired, your brain started to tell you Peter was sending you signs that he liked you more than a friend, which was preposterous. Peter was dating MJ, and it was going well. However, you couldn't shake the fact that his glances at you felt longer, his arm around your shoulder felt less platonic, and the air felt thicker when you were alone together. But of course, that was all in your head, as you tried to remind yourself as he tossed you your favorite snack before heading to the checkout counter.

"Put your stuff up there too, and I'll just put it on the business card. Tony really shouldn't trust me with this thing when I'm near candy," Peter joked, smiling back at you as you came up behind him to put your items on the counter.

"I don't know why he keeps giving it to you instead of me. I'm clearly the more responsible one," you quip, eyeing the 3 different packs of candy you had grabbed along with the coffee cups.

The two of you shared a stare, chuckling at the haul as Peter shoved the card into the reader. His head whipped around as the card reader started beeping rapidly, taking it out with confusion.

"Sorry man, you shoved it in too hard. Sometimes the reader can get sensitive with that stuff," drawled the clerk, and Peter gently put the card back in with a chuckle.

"Jeez, Parker. Hope you don't treat MJ like that card reader," you joked, shoving your elbow into his arm. His face went red and he laughed, but then suddenly found the reader to be super interesting.

As the two of you carried your bags and drinks back to the tower, the air felt tight, and he hadn't spoken a word since he wasn't able to take his eyes off the reader. You had a feeling it had to do with your joke about MJ, so you piped up.

"Hey, sorry if the card reader joke was weird."

"No, no, it's fine. It just took me off guard," he said, not taking his eyes off the pavement.

"I didn't mean to imply that you were.." you trailed off. That he was what? Rough? You couldn't imagine Peter being rough. Sexually at least.

"No, seriously, you're fine. It's just- we haven't exactly-" he coughed.

"You two haven't had sex?"

"It's not that she doesn't want to, I just haven't-"

The conversation got cut off by the elevator opening, causing a stampede of tired and overworked heroes jonesing for their liquid sleep. After distributing the goods, the two of you made your way into the main living room and sat on the couch, finally digging into your haul of sugar. After a beat of silence, you sat back on the plush couch and looked at him.

"So?" you asked innocently.

He finally looked at you instead of the floor.

"What?"

"Why haven't you guys done it yet? I thought you were in love or something."

"That's a long story," he started, shifting in his seat. He suddenly found the floor more interesting again.

"If you don't want to talk about sex, that's fine. But you're always raving about MJ to me, and you've been quiet all night. You can tell me if something's going on, you know. We're friends," you said, shifting forward and placing a hand on his forearm.

Peter looked at you, and a beat passed as he searched your face. You were worried you had upset him or pushed too hard, but just as you rescinded your hand and opened your mouth to apologize, he spoke.

"She told me she loved me and I just... I couldn't say it back."

Your mind immediately reeled. Why couldn't he say it back? Did he like someone else? Was he lying to protect her from people coming after them?

He must have seen the look on your face, because he pretty quickly launched into an explanation so your mind wouldn't work too hard.

"I wanted to say it back," he started, taking a deep breath. "Something just told me that if I did, then she'd want to have sex, and I know we've been dating for 4 months, but I'm just not ready for that. It's too important and I don't want to waste it on-" he stopped. His face immediately reddened as you sat up quickly.

"Too important? Why?" you asked curiously, not being able to contain your thoughts.

"Just, never mind. I'll talk to you later."

With that, Peter got up and stalked away, leaving a trail of confusion behind him. Your mind raced for answers but came up short, and you ultimately gave up and shuffled back into the meeting room. There was some large map on the table, so you ended up near the end, where Steve was watching, looking bored.

"What was that all about?" Steve asked, apparently in a mood to talk about anything else than a charity event.

"Nosy much?" you joked, giving him a look.

"Indulge me. It's not that often we get a gloomy Peter."

"I think I pushed too hard when he told me he and MJ haven't had sex yet," you admitted with a sigh. Steve looked at you with surprise at the answer.

"Really? I thought they were madly in love~" he replied, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I know, I was surprised too. But apparently, it's 'too special' to do with her yet. But I can't figure out why. He's being weird about it, like he's never done it before-"

The realization hit the two of you like bricks.

"Oh my god, little Petey hasn't had sex yet? Isn't he like 21?" Steve asked, a bit too gleefully.

"Yeah, we're only a few days apart. That makes so much sense now! But I wonder why he feels like it wouldn't be special enough with MJ."

"Why don't you go ask him? Sounds more interesting in this stuff, anyway."

You nodded and cupped Steve on the shoulder before heading to the hallway with both your and Peter's rooms. You slowed as you came up to his door, bringing your hand up to knock, but stopping. He's probably had enough sex talk for the night. Instead, you dropped your hand and went to your own room, sleeping a little more peacefully with the knowledge that maybe Peter and MJ weren't as solid as you thought.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

A pounding at your door woke you up with a jump.

"C'mon, we're gonna be late!" A voice called from the other side.

You rolled over to look at your alarm clock. 11:30 a.m. With a groan, you got up and started to get dressed.

You had been distracted all day. The whole team had to be at this too-large banquet hall to set up for the charity event that night, but your mind was definitely not on fancy curtains and chocolate fountains. As much as you didn't want to admit it, a part of you was relieved that Peter and MJ weren't as serious as you thought. A part of you wanted to know why he was so adamant that MJ wasn't the one he wanted to lose his virginity to, but the other part told you to leave it alone and keep it in your pants. As much as you wanted to fantasize, Peter had in no way made a pass at you, nor should he. He was your teammate. It didn't matter that his eyes gleamed when the two of you stood a little too close, or that his hand seemed to linger when you accidentally touched hands at meetings. He had a girlfriend, and that was that.

You had just started to accept this fact when you glanced at him across the room, and he ducked his head like he had just been caught staring. You brushed it off, trying to convince yourself that it was just a coincidence and that he was probably just thinking about your conversation last night. You had hauled yourself into focusing on the decorating so much that you didn't even notice at first when he showed up at your side with a coffee and your favorite dessert. You jumped a little when he said your name, but thanked him sweetly for the gesture. Peter brought you the combination a lot when he could tell you were tired or stressed. He was just a good friend like that, and you had forbidden yourself from thinking about it any other way years ago.

"I'm sorry about last night," he offered, sipping his own coffee.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I overstepped," you said, placing a hand on his arm. So muscular from training, yet so soft- nope. Not thinking about that. You removed your arm and tried really hard to focus in on the conversation. His eyes seemed to wander anywhere but yours, which wasn't like him, but you were trying not to push too hard again.

"You didn't. I'm just a little sensitive about sex. I just want it to be perfect, you know? And I know that it probably won't be because it rarely is, but I just have this picture in my head of what it should be. And I'm not ready to give that up just yet. Even if I do like MJ."

You felt a ping in your heart at the last sentence, but you soldiered on.

"That's okay. You shouldn't have to settle for something that's not what you want."

"Thanks. I'm trying to keep my expectations down, anyway. It's not like I have the means for a candlelit rooftop," he laughed, shoulders seeming to ease a bit. You chuckled, trying very hard to not notice the cute blush donning his cheeks.

"Oo, candlelit rooftop, eh? What other fancy plans do you have in mind, mister romantic?"

His blush deepened, and he hung his head to the floor with a sultry chuckle before bringing it back up with a look you couldn't decipher.

"Let's just say that when it happens, we won't leave until the sun comes up."

With that, Peter sauntered away with an air of confidence, leaving you to pick your jaw up off the floor all by yourself.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

The alarm set on your phone went off with an annoying ring just as you were putting on your second earring. Fortunately, a lot of important people were going to be showing up to this fancy event, so Tony had instructed the entire team to put on their best. For you, that meant your old-that-doesn't-look-old prom dress you were surprised still fit. You peered into the mirror, giving one final look at the glittering navy that hugged your body so well it was sinful. Your hair cascaded down one shoulder, the other side pinned with silver and diamond pins. It was safe to say you cleaned up well.

You grabbed your phone to shut the alarm off just as Peter opened your door. You stumbled back from your bed in surprise, and as Peter opened his mouth to apologize, he stopped. Like a deer in headlights, the man looked you up and down with his mouth quite literally hanging open.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you said, chuckling at his gawking.

Before you could even register what he was doing, Peter ripped his phone out of his pocket and took a picture. He lowered it after the shutter sound, smiling the biggest you had seen in months.

"Did you really just-?" you asked in disbelief, not being able to control the laughter that spilled out. This man.

Proudly, like a kid showing his parent the artwork he just created, he showed you the picture he took. It was half blurry and the lighting was terrible, but he seemed so pleased with himself that you couldn't help but laugh.

After you got ahold of yourself, you grabbed your clutch purse, sliding your phone in. You walked out of your room, grabbing Peter's hand and pulling him along with you to the elevator like an excited puppy.

"We have a banquet to endure."

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

The banquet was roaring with people, laughing echoing off the walls, and too-drunk women reaching for more champagne. The few people you had talked to didn't have much to say, and only really wanted to talk about their boats and mansions. You decided to steer clear of them for now, going to grab yourself a second flute of champagne from the bar instead. You sipped your glass as you surveyed the scene, and caught the eye of a curly-haired, golden retriever of a man, already staring back at you. You noticed him politely excuse himself from the people he was talking to and saunter over to you, a half-empty glass in a hand of his own.

"Come to bore me with details about your boat, Parker?" you asked jokingly as he reached you and set his glass on the bar.

"Oh, of course. But my glass was also getting empty," he quipped, winking at you before turning to watch the bartender fill his drink.

"You weren't coming over here to tell me how exquisite I look tonight like the other old men looking for a sugar baby, were you?"

Peter picked up his glass and took a long sip before pausing to answer.

"I would describe you as ravishing, darling. And that's not exactly the kind of baby I'm looking for," he said in a jokingly I-am-rich-and-serious tone, going to sip his drink again. You choked on the hair, shaking your head at him. In the background, you noticed a band start to play a slow melody.

"You're lucky you're cute, Parker," you chuckled, taking the time to look him up and down like he had done earlier. Man, did he clean up nice.

"Don't think I don't see you checking me out. If you're going to gawk, at least make it subtle!"

You gasped out a laugh, looking back up at his face to see a cocky look on his face.

"May I remind you that you basically tripped over yourself to get a picture of me earlier?"

"Mm, I don't recall. Shall we dance?" he asked, brushing past the question with one of those goddamn smiles. He sat down his drink, now empty, and held out his hand for you to take.

You shook your head at him with a smile, but ultimately put your cup down and took his hand. He grasped it gently, but like you would slip away if he let go. You could feel the suaveness in his steps as he pulled you onto the dancefloor and into him, chest to chest. As you swayed to the music, hand in hand, so close all you could smell was his cologne, a soft silence fell between you. The music tumbled through the air as he held you, and for once, you let your mind wander. Your gaze drifted all over his face, taking in his freckles, his dimples. The way his mouth curved just so. It was overwhelming, how sudden you felt it. You had known Peter for so long, and your friendship was so solid. You didn't let yourself think about him the way you truly wanted to because you couldn't give that up. You wouldn't trade it for the world. He was so good, and soft, and caring. He sometimes cared more about your well-being than you did, especially when the nightmares would come and the depression would take over. The nights you woke up screaming, he would rush in and hold you for hours, getting you a snack once you had calmed and staying with you until morning. He would go out of his way to run errands with you sometimes, even if it was just getting toilet paper from the corner store. He was everything to you, and you couldn't risk that just to have him not feel the same. It would be the loss of your life. So, you hid it. You didn't allow it to swallow you whole, until now. Here, in this sparkling ballroom, dressed to the nines and bathing in Peter's scent, all you wanted to do was scream that you loved this man. It took everything in you to hold him so close, and yet keep the biggest secret from him. It was too risky.

You thought, at least. In the time you were lost in your head, your faces had gotten close. Too close. You looked up through your eyelashes into Peter's beautiful brown eyes and tried not to drown in your thoughts as you felt his breath on your cheek. As you felt his lips brush yours, your eyes fluttered closed-

A crash. You both jumped back as the music abruptly ended, and everyone turned to see the too-drunk wife of a very rich guy you had spoken with earlier in the middle of broken glass and champagne on the floor. Of course, she ran into the champagne fountain. There's your life.

You and Peter shuffled off the floor now that the mood was sufficiently ruined. You ended up settling at one of the standing tables nearby. The silence as some waiters cleaned up the broken glass slowly began to kill you. Doubt crept into your mind because Peter was your friend. He didn't like you like that. He surely felt you shift and didn't want to ruin the moment. Stupid, letting you feel for him. You knew it would ruin everything.

Peter shifted uncomfortably from side to side, and though the band had picked up again, you could tell something was off. He wasn't as chatty as usual, and he wore a solemn expression you couldn't place, solidifying the fact that you had fucked up.

"What's wrong?" you asked gently, breaking the silence.

"I broke up with MJ," he answered, almost a whisper.

"Oh, Peter, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I had to. She's not the one I can't stop thinking about," he admitted, eyes shifting back to yours.

You reeled back, confused. Your heart dropped to your stomach.

"Who is she, then?" You tried not to let the hurt infiltrate your voice. Of course, he met someone.

Peter's face shifted.

"What?"

"Who is she?" you gulped, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. You couldn't look him in the eye.

"Are you fucking with me? If you are, it's not funny," he said flatly. Your world was spinning. The warmth in your chest was gone now, leaving a gaping hole of emptiness in its place.

"Surprise, I don't watch your dating life with a microscope. Just tell me."

"You are unbelievable," he said, stepping back and shaking his head. You could see the hurt on his face.

"Peter-"

"I have to go," he said flatly, and rushed off without saying another word.

You felt the emptiness in your chest rise again, and even though the champagne tower was ruined, the bar sure wasn't. You stalked over to the bar and ordered the strongest drink they had.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

Come to the roof read the text you received from Peter. This had better not be some superhero emergency.

You shoved your phone back into your bag and headed towards the elevator, pushing the highest button when you got in. Peter had been gone for about 30 minutes, which gave you plenty of time to sulk over whatever the fuck had happened. Oh, and gave you time to shoot down a couple shots. To your dismay, you were only tipsy. Stark apparently didn't allow too hard of liquor in case, well, what happened with the champagne tower.

As the elevator reached the rooftop, you took a deep breath, trying to soothe the nerves in your stomach. Fucking anxiety.

As soon as the door opened to the crisp night, you saw him. Peter, standing at the end of an aisle of candles. You stepped off the elevator, now officially confused. You walked towards him up the aisle of candles slowly, as if to not startle a deer. He was quiet as you approached, but you still couldn't read his face. You had been friends for years, and yet he still baffled you sometimes.

"Sorry, I uh, I'll leave you be," you pushed out.

"What?" Peter asked, pulling his hands from his pockets.

"You meant this for someone else? Wrong number, I guess. I'll let you get to it."

As you turned to walk away, Peter snagged your hand, pulling you back toward him.

"What do you see?" he asked plainly.

"What?"

"Describe what you see."

Still confused, you obliged, scanning the area.

"Candles. A blanket. The skyline. You," you answered, meeting his gaze once again.

"What does this look like?"

"A date? I guess?"

"And I texted you to come up here," he said, a small smile returning to his face. He grabbed your other hand, which was now apparently free. When did you set that down?

"You meant to text someone else," you replied confidently.

"I did not mean to text someone else. I meant to text you."

"But that means-" you stopped.

"I set this up for you. Us." His smile widened, and he began to pull you closer. Your cheeks reddened. It suddenly was very hot on this roof.

"Why?"

"You are so beautiful. Fast. Strong. Smart. You can be a little daft sometimes, though."

And with that, he brought his hands to your face and kissed you. Not too hard, but definitely not soft. He kissed you like he needed you, like you were oxygen and he was drowning. He put everything he had into that kiss, and it sent you soaring. You wrapped your hands around his wrist and waist, pulling him closer to you and kissing him back. You didn't realize how much you needed this until this moment. It was everything. Spring breezes, crunchy fall leaves, the stars twinkling at midnight. It was the glowing sun and the shining moon, the waves crashing on beaches, and birds singing in the morning. You never realized how much you were missing out on until this moment, when he was kissing you and you were kissing him. It was the moment you burst. There was no hiding anymore.

The kiss slowed, and you pulled away just enough to look him in his big, beautiful eyes. Breathless, the two of you sighed into soft laughter, unbelieving that it finally happened.

"So this is why you couldn't have sex with MJ?"

"You have had my heart since we met. I just didn't realize it yet."

He kissed you until your lips were swollen, until you felt there was no more air in the atmosphere. It was so perfect, and sweet, and him.

You moved to lay on the blanket he had set out, legs getting tired and weak after finally getting to feel everything you had suppressed for years. He held you, and you softly exchanged stories and sweet nothings. You told him everything, he told you. It was nothing short of perfect. The two of you lazily made out on the blanket under the stars and relished in the feeling of finally. Peter didn't even care when the sun rose over the skyline, because even though it was his first time having sex, it was deeper. It was his first time fully loving. Reveling in this happiness and the full extent of what it is to love and be loved. It was what dreams were made of.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #x reader #fluff #ansgt #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fluff #spiderman angst #hero reader #x hero #peter parker x hero!reader #spiderman love

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annachronisme · 2 years ago

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It could be worse, right ? Part 1.

Part 1 - Part 2

This was not how it was supposed to go. It was last Friday before breaks. He had a whole new campaign he had made just for the occasion and it was one of his best ones so far, if he could say so himself.

And everything had been fine, it was great even, but he couldn’t shake that feeling, the one that left him on edge, ready to bolt for the door at any moment. It followed him all week, making him more fidgety and irritable than usual. When they had started the campaign, he tried to convince himself that it was probably nothing, everything was going fine and he should stop worrying.

It worked to some extent, he had started to relax.

Until Steve Harrington barged in.

Harrington had thrown open the door of the drama room, his arms full of brown bags. Eddie was already on his feet, ready to fight if it came to it. A jock, even a retired one, was never good news when it concerned him.

A jock was a jock, that's what he thought. His freshman sheep could say whatever they wanted about Harrington, about how cool he was and how badass, he would not believe a word. That’s King Harrington they were talking about. He was not cool or badass, and he was especially not friendly with nerds like them.

The kids had not even moved, just casually waving at Harrington like everything was fine and completely ignoring him.

“Harrington. What can us humble peasants do for you?” His voice was dripping with venom and he was greatly aware of the glare he received from his new sheeps. They seemed protective of the man, even little Wheeler, first to usually sneer when Dustin would rent about the man.

What the fuck.

“Hey, Munson. I’m just leaving those here.” He said amicably, shaking the bags he was holding, not bothered at all by the animosity he was shown by the club leader. Putting the bags down, he rummaged through it before passing snack after snack to the kids, who just shrieked in excitement. He hit baby Wheeler's hand when he tried to open a bag of candies and shoved a bagged sandwich to each of them. “Eat your sandwich before your snack or I’m taking it back.” He said with a glare. He threw a quick side eye at him before taking yet another sandwich out. “ I didn’t know if you wanted anything so I bagged more just in case. “ He said, handing them sandwiches.

“What took you so long ?” Henderson piped in, the little shit. He was quickly supported in his whining by the other two. Harrington rolled his eyes but said nothing.

“Thanks, um, Harrington.” he mumbled, gobsmacked.

“You’re welcome?” Confusion painted Harrington's face, like he didn’t even think he would thank him. What an asshole.

“See you later, nerds.” He said, ruffling Dustin and Mike's hair. Luca had dunked out of his way, before walking to the door.

He saw from the side Gareth and Jeff looking at each other for a reaction, while himself was still transfixed by Harrington.

He seemed to really care about the kids. And if that was not a shock in itself, the fact that he fought off the rest of them while delivering food for the kids was definitely one. He vaguely heard Wheelers ragging at him to continue where they were left,supported by the other two. He was just sitting down when Harrington decided to surprise him again.

“Wait!” all eyes turned on him, still standing by the closed door. He looked embarrassed by all the attention, which was weird. The Steve Harrington he knews liked attention. But maybe he didn't. “ I um wanted to ask Munson something. “

“ What?”

“In private, Munson.” He gritted through his teeth. They all started to speak above each other, Henderson and Sinclair interrogating Steve loudly, while Mike protested vehemently. He was not the only one, Jeff and Gareth were also very much against them talking.

“Shut up!” Blessed silence. Damn were they loud.

“Whoua. You need to teach me that one.” Harrington piped in.

What in the multiverse is happening.

Without a word, he walked around the table to join Harrington right beside the door. He was sure he heard him yell to Henderson to not eavesdrop. Turning his back to the other, he felt the other boy grab his arms, pulling him closer than was really necessary and he was going to protest, loudly, but something caught his eyes, something he didn’t like. Harrington looked pale, a frown marring his face.

“ Munson, don’t panic.” he whispered. Yeah, that’s not reassuring at all. “We’re locked in.”

#steddie #mom steve #steve harrington #eddie munson #I did it when I was supposed to take notes #i regret nothing

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optimisticstudentangel · 2 years ago

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Dateables as children

No warning. tooth rotting fluff.

Summary: side characters became children, you are their nanny. Gender neutral reader

feeling stressed wrote this fic to forget about exams.

Diavolo

Little prince surely is a lively and energetic ball, who doesn’t like to sit around for too long. He would constantly go up to you and ask a lot of questions about anything at all. You couldn’t ignore his requests either, because he would use his puppy eyes on you, to get what he wanted.

As a child he likes when you give him a lot of your attention and buy him gifts. Diavolo can even behave badly just to see your reaction or overall so that you’d finally pay him attention he needs.

He also likes when you hug him or pat his head. Little prince is touch starved, so you’re more than welcome to embrace him. Diavolo would constantly ask you to sleep with him in his bed, because he enjoys your company very much, and doesn’t want to be separated even for a second. While you lie next to him, you must read him some human-world fairy tales and sing him a lullaby. “That’s what you are obliged to do, or else I won’t sleep” – says Diavolo.

In the end, Diavalo is not a very difficult child, if you listen to him and do what he wants, then soon the little devil will comply you.

Barbatos

Barbatos is easy to handle as a child. He doesn’t ask for much, listens to you and acts more like an adult, rather than a kid. He is very observing and curious, always want to learn something new. He helps you with handling and caring for other children, especially Diavolo. Even when Barbatos becomes a kid, he doesn’t forget about his duties.

But because he is a child, he often needs your help with his responsibilities. It’s so cute when he comes blushing to you and asks you for a hand. “Ah, MC, if you don’t mind, could you assist me in preparing a meal for a young Master?”

Barbatos is not used to relying on others, he always preferred to do everything on his own. But in this condition you can’t let him overwork himself. He is just a child! Seeing him being so serious in a young age, and not having fun with other kids makes your heart ache. So you would remind Barbatos to let loose and play with children.

As a child he seeks guidance from you. He thinks you're pretty clever, so he likes to ask you about the human world, and other topics. He is fond of advancing his knowledge, so please entertain him with interesting facts and stories.

Luke

It might be hard to open up for this baby. He is coward and puts his guard up around every one, except Simeon and you. Luke always follows Simeon and doesn't stray too far from him. You had to work hard so that Luke could let you into his comfort zone. You still acted cautiously, letting him know that he can trust you and may not be afraid of you.

After you successfully made friends with the little angel, you slowly began to bring him with other children. The easiest thing was to introduce Luke to Barbatos, they quickly found a bond with each other.

When Luke is afraid of something, he always hides behind your back. Despite this, you're always trying to help Luke get over his fear. You try to be slow with him, because angel baby needs special treatment from you.

He has a sweet tooth, so when you want to comfort him, you give him cookies, cupcakes and candies.

Simeon

Adult in a child’s body number 2, but more laid back. Simeon is very nice as a child. He is courteous with other children, especially with Luke. The angel is friendly, likes to be around people.

Behaves like an older brother, sharing with his things, and just likes to make people smile. Simeon is doing his best to help you, and wants you to turn to him when you have any kind of inconvenience. He is very bubbly and honest.

His favorite activity is helping you put the other kids to bed. After this he can be alone with you and enjoy the silence, or little angel can snuggle up to you, and no one will interfere.

“Please spend some time with me too” – sometimes he can become selfish, in that times you better make it up to him.

Solomon

Oh… well. May be very egoistic and mischievous. He likes to play pranks and be little shit to everyone. I believe that’s his way to say, “Heeey! I am here! Look at me!”. Doesn’t like when you lecture him about his behavior. If you tell him to stop, he will by contrast act up.

Well, you are not fool, that’s why you seek a way to curb his fiery temper. But it’s easier said than done… You try to keep him busy at all times, so that he wouldn’t have energy and time to make others’ life miserable. Most of the time he falls for that, but sometimes he just doesn’t, and that days you pray that he doesn’t start a fight with someone.

“Why are you so meeaaan MC?” – he also likes to play a victim, if you, again, scold this little demon.

He likes it when you praise him, at such moments he becomes more obedient. So you use this method, of making him more calm and understanding.

#obey me #obey me scenario #obey me headcanons #obey me side characters #lord diavolo #barbatos obey me #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #simeon cult

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angie-long-legs-moved · 7 months ago

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“No, it’s bad, but I’m. Like. I’m fine. Just give me like, ten minutes.” cont from here

prompt from @hazbinned for vox 🖥

It wasn't unusual for Angel to overhear Valentino in a screaming match with his business associate/part-time lover. In fact, it was almost a marker for normality at this point, a consistent feature of V Tower that made it feel like home.

He just hadn't expected it so goddamn early in the morning.

Angel groaned, pulling the satin of the pillow over his ears. Couldn't they at least save the bitch fighting til after he'd woken up?

With an indignant sigh, he pushed back the sheets of the bed. Nothing in Valentino's penthouse was particularly to his taste- everything was gaudy and overwhelming, a suffocating shade of red and riddled with tacky heart motifs. Angel wasn't opposed aesthetically excessive decor - but he and Valentino most certainly did not see eye to eye on where to draw the line. (Not that Valentino saw much of anything.)

As Angel shuffled out of bed, scouring the floor for something to wear, the yelling escalated into the smashing of glass, accompanied by a burst of static and a high-pitched yelp. He sighed. So that's what kind of day this was going to be.

Angel couldn't say that he and Vox were exactly friendly. His feelings about the Overlord were, for the most part, restricted to jealousy: Angel was Valentino's favourite toy, his arm candy, his trophy wife. He starred in his movies and slept in his bed, but he would never be more than a warm body for Val to do with as he pleased.

But Vox was his equal. Valentino respected him. It was a privilage Angel knew he'd never share, and the petty resentment that arose from this placed Vox firmly in enemy territory in his mind.

But below the shallow surface, Angel did harbor a strange empathy for him. Vox knew as well as Angel the turbulence of living and working with Valentino: the walking on eggshells, the unpredictable moods, the random acts of violence and the lovebombing that followed. They shared an unspoken understanding of eachother that both parties were far too proud to acknowledge.

As the fight reached it's finale, as was demonstrated by the click of Valentino's heels retreating furiously down the corridor, Angel padded towards the door. He had thrown on one of Valentino's shirts that fitted like a dress on him, but looking less than put together was the least of his concerns right now.

He paused at the door. Did he really want to see Vox right now? First thing in the morning, after a blow out fight between him and Valentino?

He supposed he didn't really have a choice - Val was quick to hustle Angel out of his room in the mornings, and given the brief taster of what sort of mood the man was in, Angel didn't fancy his chances waiting to see what would happen if Val came back to find him still hanging around.

He opened the door - and there was Vox, sat in a crumpled heap beside it. His usual smart appearance was thoroughly disheveled, the suit that usually looked so crisp and contemporary now wrinkled and torn. Instead of his face, his screen displayed an error message that glitched and pixelated, and thin fractures laced the screen like a spider's web. Fragments of glass littered the floor like confetti. It felt forbidden to look at the Overlord in this state, given that his image was his most prized possession. Angel wasn't sure Vox had even noticed him until he blurted out:

"Are you okay?"

Vox's face glitched into focus, the error message still flashing ominously over the top of it. The words that came out of him were garbled and glitched, but Angel could still make out that he asked for 10 minutes. To be left alone.

So, Angel sat down beside him. He'd hardened his heart when it came to Vox's issues with Valentino, perception clouded by the thick smog of jealousy. But seeing the powerful Media Overlord reduced to a shattered wreck at the hands of someone Angel had been similarly damaged by - it hit that long-neglected part of his heart that bled pure empathy. He couldn't comfort Vox, or offer any valuable words of wisdom, he couldnt be his friend... but he knew the worst thing to be after a fight with Valentino was alone, so the least Angel could give him was company.

"Little early for him to be bustin' your screen, ain't it?" Angel joked dryly. "Lemme guess - he's all out of his favourite breakfast cereal. Or you used all the hot water for the shower. No, I got it, ya woke him up half a minute too soon and now he's pissed at ya for interruptin' his beauty sleep," he smirked. "Am I hittin' on anythin' here?"

#finally the pathetic tv man makes an appearance <3 #hazbinned rp #hazbinned vox rp #hazbinned #threads #hope this is okay!!#tw violence #tw abuse

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closingwaters · 7 months ago

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TIMING: A few weeks ago

PARTIES: @recoveringdreamer @closingwaters

SUMMARY: Felix and Teagan hang out by the lake and have a heart to heart about their burdens. They find solace in each other.

WARNINGS: References to sibling death

“What a beaut of a day, aye?” Teagan chirped with a sigh, laying back on a boulder just over the lake. The sun was beaming and the clouds overhead were as thick as cotton candy. Speaking of which, Teagan had bought several bags from the grocery store. She shook one above Felix, trying to entice them into having a bite. If that didn’t work, she had an array of other snacks that they could both dig into as they enjoyed the rays.

“You want some, or would you prefer something else? Alternatively, I could jump in the water and splash you.” Scrunching her nose, Teagan playfully nudged Felix with a slight push, careful not to scratch him with her claws. It was always easy to be in her true form, but it felt much more special when she could be herself around someone she trusted. Someone who could look her in the eyes without fear, without seeing the death that lay behind them.

Teagan smiled, laying her head on Felix’s stomach to get settled in with her friend. There was much she wanted to talk about, and even more she wanted to express. “I’ve missed this. Have missed you. Been so distant after finding out…” She trailed off for a moment, inhaling sharply. “Who he is. But I think I’m a bit better now, actually. Even if I almost destroyed everything I’ve worked for.”

Things at the Grit Pit had been picking up lately. Spring was preparing to give way to summer, which would mean an influx of tourists and college kids coming home for a few months. The higher ups in the Pit wanted to be ready for it, wanted to entice larger crowds and higher payouts. It meant Felix was busy in preparation, ‘testing the waters’ so to speak with different fights and opponents. They wanted to know which beasts put up the best fight against Wildcat, wanted to see which matchups would inspire the most bets. The end result left Felix worn down and exhausted more often than not, and certainly in need of relaxation.

This was a good way to go about it. Felix wasn’t much of a swimmer — their sister used to make jokes about cats and water, as if she wasn’t every bit a jaguar as Felix was even when she splashed around in the lake — but they liked sitting by the water. They liked it especially with Teagan, who always seemed more comfortable here than she did anywhere else. Some of that constant weight on her shoulders always seemed to lift a little on the shores of her lake, and Felix liked that. They thought she deserved that reprieve, even if she didn’t agree.

“Mmmm, I’m not really hungry now, but maybe in a little while. Did you bring those chips?” They flashed a grin, one that was brighter and more genuine than what most people were able to draw from the timid balam. With Teagan, it was far easier to relax. “Splashing might not be a bad idea, too, if it gets any warmer.” It wasn’t hot, really, but it was warmer than anything winter had given them, and the change was noticeable.

They softened as Teagan continued, turning their head to look out at the lake. They knew she’d been having a rough time lately, an endless barrage of struggles. They wished she could have more of a break, have some happier times in between all the bad. “Better is good,” they said. “Hopefully you can… keep getting more better. I — I want that for you, you know?”

“Of course I brought those chips! I know your favorites.” The lilt in Teagan’s voice was friendly and bright, turning slightly into a wilt at the mention of hope. It was in passing, so easy to miss, but having seen her sister, anything such as an utterance made Teagan’s heart depress into itself.

She sighed, “Want that for you too.” Slowly, and a bit reluctantly, the nix pulled herself away from Felix. She slid quietly into the lake, hoping the space would allow for comfort to fill it. “I…” The nymph’s practically fully-grown tail swished back and forth in the water. The ripples were small, at first. As Teagan continued to prattle on, they grew in speed and size. “Doing better now, yeah, but you know me. The past just…I hold onto it. Let it fester and fester, and then I’m questioning myself left and right.”

Her brows cinched together and her eyes shut tightly, voice straining to release more of that truth. Likewise, her tail caused the ripples in the water to crash into shore. The sound was enough to force Teagan to focus and put a halt to her nervous movements. Well, at least one of them. She continued to bite the inside of her lip and run her hands through her hair, but those weren’t nearly as noisy as the lapping of her tail. After a moment, she finally took a steadying breath, honesty mixing with her grief.

“Almost drowned a hunter a couple of weeks ago. Parker—he…knowing who he is.” She clicked her tongue, sighing shakily. “Lost myself again. He fell into a trap and I thought I did the right thing, you know? I questioned him. I checked. I-I-I…” Teagan’s voice cracked and she gasped out her words for a moment before forcing herself to pause. There was no point in letting herself grow excited. She didn’t deserve sympathy for what she’d done. “I made sure he was a hunter first, but it still wasn’t right to do any of that—to hurt him. I know that now. Truly know it. Like how you wanted me to know it before, but I didn’t hold firm. I should have. I…”

Something warm swam in their chest at the simplicity with which she uttered the words. Of course I brought those chips! I know your favorites. As if Felix’s favorites were worth remembering, as if it mattered whether or not they got something they loved. It did to Teagan, they knew. Teagan would go to the store, would buy chips just because she knew Felix liked them. It wasn’t really the kind of thing Felix had experienced before or, at least, not in a long time. Not since their mother died, probably. They offered her a small smile. “You’re the best,” they said.

But they knew she wouldn’t believe it. It was written all over her face, the same way it always was. Teagan was kind and nice and caring, but she never saw that when she looked at herself. It was a common theme among so many of Felix’s friends. They were good people, but none of them thought so. Wasn’t that how it always seemed to go? Good people never thought they were good, and bad people never thought they were bad. The world was complicated and unsteady and no one knew how to keep their balance.

They watched her as she spoke, kept an eye on her even if she didn’t seem quite ready to look back at them yet. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, her confession. Felix had seen how she was with the ranger she caught before, knew that she needed a lot more than someone like Felix sharing their experiences with her to give up on something she’d been holding onto all her life. They ached for her, ached with her. They thought of Parker, of how afraid they had been after their encounter with him. They understood what Teagan had been feeling; maybe part of them even understood the violence it brought with it.

“Nobody changes overnight,” they said quietly. “And — And if you almost drowned him, that means… you didn’t, right? That’s something, Teagan.” It was a huge step. So was the guilt she was feeling for it. Felix thought of their father, who had only ever stopped before delivering that killing blow if he wanted one of his children to do the ‘honors’ instead. He’d never seemed to feel guilty for the things he did. He’d never regretted it, never shown any interest in stopping even when Felix begged him to. “You… It’s a process. Right? It’s… You didn’t kill him. That has to mean something.”

There was bloodshed behind Felix’s eyes, even if they never spoke of it. They’d made a few confessions and their childhood became clear. The only reason Felix made it out as kind as they were was with their fingers curled into a fist. By no choice of their own. Having her own battles to fight, and more often begin, Teagan could see the raging sea behind Felix’s eyes. Their ship’s course set off to a war they did not start. But maybe, just maybe, they could see its end. Perhaps while holding the hand of someone who’d seen more than one war waged in their dangerous mind.

“You say I’m the best like you’re not the one reassuring the murderer.” Teagan chuckled half-heartedly with a sniffle. “I think you’re the best.” She waded herself closer to Felix and the rock they were laying on. Her claws gently and carefully grazed over the scar on their face, eyes glancing over the several other nicks they had. For a few beats, Teagan wondered what Felix did to accrue so many marks. Each one had a story, and knowing their kind-hearted nature, she had a feeling there had to be a good reason for them. Though Teagan knew getting an answer about them would be just as easy as getting herself to let go of her grief.

Still, for her friend, she wanted to try.

“You really oughta tell me more about these.” She hovered a little longer, moving her hand to cup Felix’s cheek. “You don’t kill and you don’t like harming, but yet there’s so much harm on you.” Unlike Teagan, Felix looked for peace. If given the chance, they’d thrive in that kind of setting. She hoped being at the lake gave them that, even for a moment. Even if her presence didn’t allow for peace to fully exist. “Lucky to have you, you know that, right?” She sighed with a chuckle, energy slowly growing more present. “Wanna be more like you. There’s so much strength in your kindness. How do you do it when…” Teagan gestured to Felix’s scar. “You’ve got marks like these?”

It was a question she’d asked before, and the answer she got was vague while still providing comfort. That’s just how Felix operated. She hoped for more detail, to know her friend’s heart better.

“Hey, come on. That’s my friend you’re talking about, you know?” They offered her a small smile, trying to reassure. Teagan only ever saw the worst in herself. Felix knew that. She looked in the mirror and hated the reflection that stared back at her, and maybe that was why it was so easy to defend her. Their father had never once thought of the things he’d done as shameful, had never looked as haunted as Teagan did now. He’d always believed it was his right to shed blood, and no amount of begging or pleading had ever convinced him otherwise. Had Felix begged for the lives of the humans their father cut down the same way he’d begged for that hunter in Teagan’s trap those months ago, they’d have received little more than a harsh word or a brutal slap. In no world could they imagine their father listening to them the way Teagan had, letting someone go because they asked.

And so it meant something that Teagan had. It meant something that she was filled with so much regret for the things she’d done and the people she’d hurt. It meant something that she wanted to change, even if she was still struggling to achieve it. Nothing happened overnight, did it? If Teagan couldn’t be patient with herself, Felix would have that patience for her. They were good at that. It was so much easier to carry other people’s weight than it was to carry your own.

But, of course, they were significantly less good at letting other people shoulder their burden. Teagan’s hand ghosted over the raised skin of the scar on their face, and their throat felt tight. They remembered getting it, of course, remembered the desperate claw of a lamia scraping down the side of their head. They’d won the fight, the pain pushing them to shift more fully than they normally would have, and they didn’t know what happened to the lamia after. He never came back to the Pit, never fought in another match. Felix got a bonus after, Leo stating that he’d made sure Felix would ‘get a nice bit of extra cash’ for their brutality.

They reached a hand up, taking hers gently and lowering it. How could they admit just how unkind they really were? Teagan killed hunters, and she hated herself for that. But wasn’t there something so much more sinister in hurting people who were like you? The blood on Felix’s hands so often belonged to other shifters. Wasn’t that the worse thing? Felix wouldn’t even be able to explain the bulk of it, was bound by their contract a thousand times over. (That scared them, too. Didn’t Teagan utilize binds? What if, in hearing about theirs, she only confirmed that it was their own fault they’d landed in such a situation?)

“I don’t think you should want to be like me,” they admitted, shaking their head a little. “You’re a lot smarter than I am. That’s a pretty important thing to be in this town.” They tried to pretend she hadn’t asked about the rest of it, tried to pretend the conversation ended there. They’d never been particularly good at pretending.

A chuckle tumbled past Teagan’s lips, and she shook her head with amusement. Felix, always defending and fighting for everyone, but never themself. Well, save for when they didn’t take what Parker said laying down. But even that felt like a service. Parker had hurt so many people, preyed on supernatural beings that Felix befriended. When they stood up for themself, they stood up for several others. Teagan wondered if they’d ever take their power and use it for themself. They deserved that much. More, even.

“You know, mun, I don’t think it’s fair that you only listen to my arse.” She sighed into a wan chuckle, looking at their interwoven hands. Her stare grew teary and wanting, wishing for Felix to share anything that bore some sort of weight. They looked like they could topple over at any given moment. Whenever or if ever that happened, Teagan would want to be there, but they had to let her first. They had to let themself have worth.

Because how could you truly give someone love when they wouldn’t accept everything that came with it? By the waves, if Teagan could do it, as she was doing right then, she knew that Felix could get there too. They just needed that urging, that safe space that could convince them of that, without a single doubt. And that would prove difficult, considering how full of them Felix was.

“Isn’t friendship about sharing? Like that one saying: sharing is caring.” She chuckled dryly, grazing her thumb over the back of Felix’s hand. “After everything, that’s what I’ve learned. We can’t do this alone.” Teagan sniffled, blinking what tears she could, but failed to get every single one. A few dropped onto their clasped hands, and with her thumb, she wiped them quickly away. “It’s a gift to share pain with someone you love, as crazy as that sounds. Because I understand wanting to hold it so close to your chest and never let it go. It hurts and it festers and it weighs you down. Why would you offer that freely to someone you love, right?” She swallowed, finally looking up to Felix with glassy eyes and a hopeful smile.

“Because it means you care about them enough to let them help you. It means you won’t let them suffer by watching you suffer. Does that make sense?”

“I like listening to you,” Felix insisted. It was true. They liked listening to Teagan, and didn’t Teagan deserve to be listened to? Hadn’t she lived her entire life in this haze of grief and tragedy, hadn’t she earned a reprieve from it even if that reprieve was as small and as insignificant as Felix’s listening ear? They weren’t good at much, weren’t good for much. God knew they knew that, had been reminded time and time and time again. They weren’t smart, weren’t good with people, didn’t understand even the barest basics of what it meant to act like a human being. But they could listen. They could do that, at least. And wasn’t that worth something? If that could make a difference, even a small one, wasn’t it their duty to do it?

In the beginning of their relationship with Leo, Felix had tried, sometimes, to be the one to talk. They’d tried opening up about how they felt, about how it ached, but Leo had always shut it down. Gently back then, in a way that made Felix feel taken care of even if they were no longer sure that had been the intention. You know other people have it way worse than you, right? Leo had asked once, his fingers in Felix’s hair on the heavy date that coincided with the anniversary of their mother’s death. Nobody likes someone who complains all the time, Fe. Everybody has problems, and yours aren’t that bad. And maybe Leo hadn’t had their best interests in mind, but hadn’t he been right about that? Plenty of people had lives far worse than Felix’s. Their mother died, their father wasn’t kind, but wasn’t that a story written a thousand times over? Hadn’t it existed since the beginning of time?

Other people had it worse, so it was Felix’s job to be there for them. To swallow their own grief, to stuff it down deep and make room to carry others’ instead. No one had ever carried Teagan before. Did it matter that no one had carried Felix, either? Teagan’s load was heavier. It should take priority. She should take priority. She deserved that much.

Still, the more she spoke, the more Felix wondered if they’d been doing something wrong all this time. They thought they’d understood how best to navigate friendship, thought they worked well as an anchor or an Atlas. Maybe they’d been wrong. Guilt festered in their chest, and they swallowed. “I just… It’s not really important. You know?” They were better as support. Their own problems were messy and brutal and entirely their own doing. Wouldn’t that have forfeited them any right to lean on someone else for them, even if they weren’t so small in comparison? What happened to Teagan hadn’t been her fault. What happened to Felix was. That was the difference, the stark contrast. They had no one to blame but themself.

The way Felix struggled internally was evident in how they began to carry something the nix couldn’t physically see. They hesitated and held their pain in their chest, windowing it so tightly that Teagan knew something would snap. Maybe not violently and maybe not visibly, but even the smallest wave had a build that came to a crash. She wondered who taught them to do such a thing to themself? Who shaped the voice in their head that put their worth at the bottom of their list of priorities? Certainly Felix’s father had given birth to it, but what or who had made it what it was now?

“Felix, look at me.” She smiled wanly, leaning her head forward to bonk her forehead to theirs. Not everyone was fond of touch, just like her sister wasn’t, but Teagan knew what Felix liked. By the waves, they had cuddled more than once, and she had run her hand through their hair countless times before. It felt good to do something other than stain her hands with blood, and even better, that affection was what they deserved.

“I don’t know what happened or who told you that your thoughts weren’t as important as anyone else’s, but I’m here to tell you that they’re wrong.” She pulled herself back, planting a kiss on Felix's hands. “And you know, my sweet, I can’t lie without a very good and gagging tell.” Teagan scrunched her nose at that, attempting to add some sort of humor to an otherwise drab conversation. “I just…” She sniffled to herself, “I can’t be the only one talkin’. Can’t-can’t be the only one sharing. You’re gonna get so tired carrying all my mess. Lemme carry yours, too. You-you…” Her brows furrowed together, and she clicked her tongue. What were the right words? Did they need to be perfect for Felix to listen? Or did Teagan just need to lay out the truth in earnest with an air of love and understanding? Or maybe, and she was just taking a leap, maybe she just needed to try. As she always had. As she promised she would.

“You matter to me. And I matter to you. Isn’t that what’s important here? I’m swimmin’ about, crying, because I was a murderer. Now, mind you, maybe I’m bringing about a change to that, but if a murderer can cry and get sympathy, I think anyone deserves to do the same.” Teagan pointed at Felix, pointing again and poking their chest. “Especially someone that’s good. Like you.”

She wanted them to look at her. It was such an easy request, such a simple thing. All they had to do was lift their head, raise their eyes. She wasn’t asking them to run a marathon, wasn’t asking them to climb a mountain. Teagan never asked anything difficult of Felix, never made requests so large that they were buried beneath them, and they knew that. So why, then, did this one feel impossible? Their neck was a toothpick, their head an anvil balanced precariously atop it. Part of them worried that if they tried to comply with her request, something was going to snap.

They lifted their eyes as much as they could, anyway, let their gaze settle on a spot in the water just behind her and pretended it was the same. This was Teagan, and she was asking. There was little Felix wouldn’t do to honor that. Because didn’t Teagan deserve it? Even if she thought she didn’t, even if she hated herself. Teagan deserved a better friend than Felix knew how to be, someone who was smarter and braver and better with people. Someone who could carry on a conversation without stammering or filling the silences between words with uhs and ums and ers, someone who wasn’t constantly crushed beneath mistakes too big to dig out from under. Teagan deserved all that, but what she had here was Felix. And Felix wasn’t enough.

“I don’t mind it,” they said quickly. “Carrying it for you, it’s — I want to be useful. I want to be good for something. You know? I don’t want to be — to be a burden, or something that… weighs you down. I’m lucky just to know you. I’m lucky you put up with all my…” They trailed off, gesturing vaguely at themself. Unconsciously, they were echoing words Leo had always told them. Felix hadn’t had a job during their relationship; Leo had scoffed at their early attempts to find one, had questioned who would hire someone without a high school diploma or any work history to speak of and no social skills to balance things out. He’d paid for everything, and he’d made Felix understand how exhausting that was. He’d made sure Felix knew how hard it was to put up with them continuously, to answer their questions and go along with their ignorance. They were lucky, he’d told them. They were lucky that he was kind.

And Teagan was kinder. Teagan never pointed out what a burden Felix was, never made sure they wouldn’t forget it. Teagan accepted them and cared about them and got nothing in return, so didn’t Felix owe her a listening ear? Wasn’t it their duty to carry the weight on her shoulders, to lessen it? They’d never really had friends before — Leo hadn’t liked when they tried to do that, either — but weren’t you supposed to take care of them? They could take care of Teagan. She did enough for them already. As selfish as it was, they didn’t want her to realize how uneven the playing field really was.

But… She was asking. Wasn’t she? She was asking, and she sounded genuine, and wouldn’t it be cruel to deny her that, too? It felt like a war was being waged in Felix’s head, the desire to keep themself light enough to be carried in someone else’s pocket fighting against the desire to grant Teagan what she wanted from them. She called herself a murderer, and Felix thought about that lamia who never came back to the Pit. They thought about the creatures whose bodies were tossed in the dumpster at the end of the night, or the fights they didn’t remember the endings of and the extra cash slipped into their enveloped payment after. Weren’t they something worse than a murderer? At least Teagan had a righteous cause in mind, as misguided as she might have been. Felix fought for the entertainment of rich men, killed to line the pockets of people already wealthy enough to retire.

(Murderers went to prison, but rabid animals were put down. Felix had always known which description fit them better.)

“I’m not,” they said quietly, barely audible over the soft waves. “I’m not good, Teagan. I’m — I’m not.”

And there it was. A small, but obvious fissure in the wall that Felix had encased themself with. A cast to seal the wounds from their broken heart, signed away and lost to never be seen again. Somehow though, some way, it was delivered to Teagan, with the opportunity to unravel it completely. She wanted to reveal the truth of it all, get to the source of where Felix’s goodness came from. It didn’t matter if they didn’t believe, Teagan could see them for who they were. No matter the truth, the root of who Felix was, she’d understand and be ready for them.

Because what was a friendship if it were one sided? Could she really call herself a friend if she let Felix continue on their selfless endeavor? No, not really. At least, in Teagan’s heart of hearts, she didn’t think so, and she wanted to be better. She promised she would be to two people who mattered most to her, subsequently making the same to everyone she called friend. There wasn’t much else to do but continue, even if Felix continued to evade.

“Never once have you weighed me down.” She reassured with a wry smile. “And never once have I…” Pulling her clawed hands up from the water, the nix made quotes with her fingers, “Put up with you. There’s no putting up with you. There’s just,” With a shrug, Teagan chuckled dryly, “Being with you and loving you, calon.” The term felt fitting, falling easily off of her tongue when she let herself speak freely. If anyone was of pure heart and strength, it was Felix, and she’d spend her days setting that into their beliefs if she needed to.

“It’s about give and take, eh? So to speak.” She clicked her tongue and looked to the sky to think. “I know there’s something in that mind of yours.” A sigh escaped her, and she swallowed, “Something dark and painful, and if you could let it out, even just for me, I’d be grateful. I’d listen and I’d carry it with you. Just…” Teagan looked back to Felix, smiling a little more fully as tears of hope blurred them slightly. “Just let me be the judge of what I can and cannot carry. Let me decide, please. The waves know I’ve hardly let you with my jabbering. So please.” Playfully, she booped Felix’s nose, leaving a few droplets of the lake on their skin. “Jabber on.”

It was difficult, aligning what Teagan thought of them with what they were so sure was true about themself. There was some quiet guilt in that, some ache deep in their chest telling them that they were bad for not believing her, for not being able to see past the shadows they pretended didn’t lurk in the dark corners of their mind. But for years of their life, Felix had been in love with a man who told them things about themself. And they hadn’t known themself well enough to dispute what he’d said, hadn’t understood who they were enough to wonder if he was telling the truth. He said he loved them, and they believed him. He said that they were stupid, and a burden, and hard to be around, and they believed that, too. If one thing was true, the other had to be, too. And Felix had wanted, so desperately, to be loved.

So it was… confusing, in a way, talking to Teagan now. Because Teagan said she loved them, and they believed her. But everything else she said — that they were good, that they were easy to love, that they were nice to be around — felt contradictory to everything Felix thought was the truth. They wanted to believe her. They really did. But there was still blood staining their hands, and it didn’t always belong to people they were forced to hurt.

(They thought of Beau, of coming back to themself to find him on the ground with claw marks carved into his stomach and blood staining Felix’s skin. What if the same thing happened to Teagan?)

They worried their bottom lip between their teeth, and they wanted to give her what she was asking for. They really did. They wanted to tell her what was on their mind, wanted to reveal what was going on the same way they’d wanted to tell their father about it in the beginning. They wanted someone to tell them that it was okay, to tell them it wasn’t their fault. But… “There are a lot of things that I… can’t say.” Their contract locked them into a pointless kind of silence. It couldn’t be broken without consequence. “About… the scars. How I got them. It’s — I can’t talk about it.” Would she understand the implication? Did they want her to? Teagan was fae, too. She’d bound them once, even if she’d released them before anything came of it. What if she knew the truth and thought it was their fault after all? Could they handle that? Felix wasn’t sure.

Teagan’s shoulders dropped, and she let out a deflated, “Oh.” How horrible it must be to not only believe your worth to be so small that you had to carry all your burdens alone, but to also be forced into silence. By the waves, they must’ve felt at fault too. Binds were tricky and meant to undo the victim completely. This was something Teagan knew all too well.

Having made countless binds herself, she’d seen the same grief in others as she saw in Felix’s eyes. It made her feel rotten inside, an acrid taste filming her tongue as she recalled a time that she had bound Felix to their words. It was petty and natural all at once, and yet it made Teagan feel sick that she had hurt them in the same way as this nameless enemy. She trembled with anger at the thought, but as she slid out of the lake and next to Felix, there was nothing but kindness in each movement.

“I understand.” She muttered, “I’m sorry that’s happened to you.” Inching closer, Teagan leaned her head in, brushing her gills against Felix affectionately. “Let’s just be then for a while. Whatever bind you’ve got, you don’t have to deal with it alone. I’ll carry the burden with you and I’ll love you through the pain.” Taking a breath, Teagan steadied herself, breathing out a bit of hope. “And if there’s a way out, I’ll-I’ll help you get there. Okay?” Mismatched eyes met with Felix’s and she couldn’t help but wrap her arms around them. Hopefully they didn’t mind how soaked she was.

“So from now on, whatever wounds you get, come to me, okay? I’ll clean ya up and you can lay down knowing that you will be loved and cared for through it.” Again, Teagan sighed, “‘Cause a bind is a bind, and whatever you have to do because of it doesn’t change who you are. You’re still a good person. You’re still my good friend.” Squeezing Felix one last time, Teagan loosened her embrace and leaned back. Tears brimmed her eyes, but she offered a loving smile regardless. “‘Preciate you telling me what you can, calon. Really.” She sniffled, “Why don’t we enjoy the rest of the day though, eh? Seems like we both need it quite a bit.”

She understood, even without Felix saying anything specific. The judgment they had expected didn’t come, and there was relief in that, but… There was something else underneath it, too. Guilt, maybe, that they were escaping judgment they knew they deserved. After all, weren’t the people they hurt still hurt? Weren’t all of them bound just as surely as Felix? There was blood on their hands, and no one seemed to care. No one was ready to hold them accountable for it. At the Grit Pit, they were congratulated for their brutality. Outside of it, they were comforted. When would they be punished for their wrongdoing? How long would they continue to escape what they deserved?

It was selfish, the way they leaned into Teagan as she exited the water and slid up next to them. They didn’t deserve any of the kindness she offered and they knew it, but they wanted that comfort so badly. They wanted what they had wanted since they were fourteen years old — for someone to tell them that everything would be okay and mean it, for comfort that wasn’t coated in a thin layer of violence. At fourteen, they’d deserved that. But now? They knew they’d forfeited the right.

“It was my fault,” they said quietly, because it needed saying. Felix had known they were signing their life away. They’d understood they were doing something that couldn’t be undone. And they’d done it anyway, because they’d loved someone and they’d been naive enough to believe it meant something. “I — I don’t think there’s a way out. Not one I’d want to take.” The only way out was to bring someone else in, and Felix wasn’t sure they could forgive themself for that. Not when they knew precisely how the Pit operated, not when they understood intimately just how bad things could get. If they weren’t damned by what they’d done, the act of forcing someone else to do the same would take any shot of redemption they had left. They knew that.

They leaned into Teagan a little more, aching with how little they deserved what she was offering to them. To be loved as their wounds were cleaned, and to know they’d gotten those wounds by giving worse ones to someone else… It was a disgusting thing, wasn’t it? More disgusting still was the way they nodded, the way they agreed. “Okay,” they whispered. They would come to her, and she would help them, and they wouldn’t deserve any of it. It hurt to know. “Yeah. Let’s relax. Um, how are the… lake animals doing?” They sniffled a little, offering Teagan a watery smile.

#wickedswriting #writings #waving words #felix and teagan #c: teagan #misery business #sibling death tw

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your-highnessmarvel · 1 year ago

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cotton candy | s.riley

CHAPTER SEVEN

Pairing: Simon Riley aka Ghost x Original female character

Warnings: Nothing here, except language and ghost being a bitch and OC being a slut for him lmao.

Chapter Summary: As Laura prepares for the mission that will put her a step towards home, she makes a dazzling realization. She might actually see Ghost’s face.

A/N: Wow, this took forever. I am so sorry?????

Masterlist

Taglist: Open

Will be posting on AO3. IF ONLY I CAN FIGURE OUT HOW IT WORKS LMAO.

Chapter seven

He was blonde. I couldn’t get that out of my head, the way his sandy locks had turned a darker shade of honey under the water’s jet. His light eyelashes and his slightly darker brows. The blue of his eyes, the shade of a calm ocean tide.

It was like staring in the mirror and not recognizing myself. Simon - that was his name - who could tear someone to pieces and take what he wanted from others and drain the blood from someone’s face with a simple look, was blonde.

It was the one and only thing rattling the inside of my skull for the last two days. Not the fact that his fingers were skilled or one had been wedged between my thighs or that his mouth was soft and plump. Not that his body was perpetually on fire or that his teeth had left little half moons on the flesh of my shoulder. Or that he tasted like ash and something sweet.

He was fucking blonde.

I don’t know, honestly, what I had expected from Ghost - well, Simon. Maybe thick dark locks and black eyebrows to match with that awfully blank stare of his. Maybe even a light shade of chocolate brown.

But not blonde.

It softened him, even if I knew what he was capable of. How strong he was. How fast, cunning, tactical he could be. The fact that his hair was just short strands, curling around his ears, and blonde!

And not sunny, beach blonde. Not pastel yellow or close to white. He had a special kind of shade, somewhere between hot sand and honey coiling around my finger.

I had only seen his hair for a very split second, distracted by the masterpiece of his body, but it had just stuck with me.

After Simon - oh, God his name was so sweet - and I’s encounter in the bathroom showers, I could barely bring myself to look at him.

Yes, he’d culled the most luscious, lascivious sensations out of my skin, deep from within me, like a tide to the moon. But cumming for him, at his command, from his ministrations on my body, had felt like I was a marble dropped into water.

It was a failure to myself.

Even if it had felt so good, so right, even if I’d initially ran and refused and been turned to putty in his hands. Even if he’d understood me so easily, so pathetically, and yet so perfectly - it was utter failure.

I needed to win. And I would.

Soap was walking me through the plans of this operation. The one they called Starlight.

He’d been silent with me at training these past two days. Not silent silent, Soap wasn’t capable of being mute, but he was less chatty, less friendly. He kept a safe distance from me, as if I was riddled with the black plague and this was 1388.

“Management isn’t roped in on this,” he said, going through his notes. We were sitting in the RV, night creeping and whispering around us with crickets and a far away, numb noise of a drone. “So don’t trust anyone. Keep your eyes behind your head.”

I snorted.

“So to speak, pumpkin,” Soap muttered, head in his hands. I reached over and touched his elbow, summoning his gaze back to me.

His skin was soft, chiseled with hair, and he looked up between his fingers at me.

“You doing okay?” I asked.

I wasn’t blind. I’d seen the blue smudged under Soap’s eyes, the fatigue dragging Alejandro’s face downward, and even Gaz and Laswell were dragging their feet. This operation, this mission to catch an elusive criminal, was taking a toll on the team.

Soap’s mouth curved into a shy smile. “Yeah,” he said, yawning, poorly hiding it behind his hands.

“Maybe we should sleep?” I suggested.

For a moment, Soap just stared. We’d been at these plans for the better part of the night. No one had bothered showing back up after supper - some sort of ladies night happening at the bar that Gaz and Alejandro were really into. So Soap had thought it would be best to walk me through the plans, get me used to what I was supposed to do.

But Soap was getting sleepy and grumpy, and the more questions I asked, the easier it was to get him angry.

I moved my hand away, but he caught it, lightning quick. Slamming his hands onto my fingers and holding onto it.

“Laura, I - I wanna ask you somethin’?” It came out as a question, but my head cocked with curiosity. His fingers were burning, wrapped tightly around mine, sitting numbly on the table. He bit the inside of his cheek. “What did Ghost do to you?”

I tried jerking my hand away, but Soap held on, bruising grip, forcing my entire arm to lay flat on the wood of the table. Although Soap let off some other kind of vibe, the goofy kid with a lopsided smile and an easy laugh, he was smart. He was the smartest person I’d ever met - and never let anything slip past him.

Frowning, my breath almost knocked out of me, I said, “nothing.” As if I meant it. As if Ghost hadn’t actually done something to me.

My entire body lit up, flames licking up my sides, burning up to my cheeks, and Soap must have noticed because he grimaced and shook his head.

“You won’t even look at him,” he continued. “Should... should I be concerned?”

“No.”

“Then why are you pulling your arm away?”

I fidgeted in my seat. “Soap, it’s no big deal.”

He laughed. The asshole actually laughed. “Then tell me.”

“No!”

“Are you a little prudish?”

I reached over with my other hand, my clumsy hand, and slapped him. And just at that moment, the door to the RV swung open, but I didn’t hear it, and continued slapping Soap clumsily on the side of the head. He laughed, barely evading my blows, holding me by my other hand.

“You’re such a dick!” I exclaimed, grabbing onto that mohawk of his and trying to slam his head onto the table.

I should’ve known I was not going to be satisfied with what came next.

I was yanked from the table, my hand snatched from Soap’s, and a pair of arms wrapped under my breasts, hoisting me up. I screeched, trying to kick Soap, but my assailant - and I had a good idea who it was - just pulled me right across the table, throwing Soap’s notes to the ground.

I landed awkwardly onto the ground, butt first, heels scrambling on the carpeted floor of this fucking RV. I held onto Ghost’s forearms, nails digging into the fabric of his black hoodie. He hauled me up and onto my feet.

I tried slapping Ghost, aiming my open palms over my head and at his masked face, but he just grunted and grabbed both wrists and trapped them between my chest and his.

“Why are you assaulting my Sergeant?” he asked, his voice low, grunted through clenched teeth.

Soap chuckled.

“He called me... he called me prudish,” I spat back, trying to pull my wrists free but Ghost took a step towards me and I took one back. The edge of the counter came brushing against the base of my spine. Nice. Trapped again.

Ghost was so immense in the tiny space of the RV, taking up most of my vision with the width of his shoulders and chest.

I tried not to look into his eyes, into those baby blues, but he was just standing there. Looking.

So I did. I dragged my gaze up until he was piercing holes inside my face.

“Well, you are,” he said, and I saw a glint in his eyes, as if this was amusing. I pulled but he held on.

“No.”

“Prove it.” I turned, facing Soap, who’d just said that without humour, without a hint of a smile on his face.

I felt Ghost let out a chuckle against me. “She’d never,” he said.

I opened my mouth to speak but Ghost’s hand shot out, grabbing my jaw painfully, holding my mouth open like a fish. I saw his eyes dart to my mouth, to my tongue. Then he dragged his gaze back to mine. “Whatever you’re about to say, save it.” He paused, watching me struggle to close my jaws. “Don’t tempt me,” he said. “Don’t tempt us.”

He let go of me and lazily walked back to the room. I watched, breathless, jaw aching, as his shoulders swayed, his form sauntering away until he closed the door to the room.

I turned, half expecting Soap to be laughing at Ghost’s cruelty. But he was just sat there, watching me with impossibly dark eyes, an impenetrable stare.

“Soap?” I asked, my voice small.

I wasn’t liking this. But I wasn’t hating this. My skin crawled with goosebumps as Soap got up, slowly facing me. Something akin to flames, like embers, was brewing low in my belly.

Shit.

“Let’s go get some sleep, huh, pumpkin?” He jerked his head towards the room, where Ghost was sleeping, where I was supposed to fall asleep as well.

Numbly, I followed Soap. He opened the door for me, darkness greeting us both as we slinked in. I heard the rustle of his shirt coming off his chest, the sheets as he climbed into his bed. I listened to the creaks in Ghost’s own bunk, to the breaths of two men obviously not sleeping as I went to the corner and felt around for my pijamas.

I listened to the dark, to Soap’s quiet but rapid breaths, to Ghost’s sheets hissing as he moved.

I quickly changed, leaving my jeans and shirt on the floor, and quickly climbed into bed.

I had trouble finding sleep, staring at the dark, pretending not to imagine what Soap would feel like. What Ghost would say if I touched him or Soap or both.

And something rang deep in my head, low in my belly, throbbing between my legs.

Ghost had said don’t tempt us. Us.

Fuck.

***

The truth about men was fairly simple. They were immortal beings until faced with the inevitable death of their hearts. They thought themselves painless, fearless until the sting of a blade kissed their flesh.

Or until some bratty girl with midnight hair became the only girl on base to hold the entirety of their appetite.

Ghost wasn’t stupid. And he wasn’t blind. He’d seen his own subordinates, trained privates, Navy Goddamned Seals battle hardened and insensitive, fall to their knees at the mention of pussy. And he’d seen them all give eyes to Laura, to the beautiful civilian American girl with black hair and a blacker stare.

But she was his. And she’d remain his until he decided otherwise.

“L.T?”

Ghost turned his head, meeting Soap’s gaze. The latter inclined his head. “Are we getting Laura for this?” he asked.

Ghost shook his head. “All she needs to do is get in there and identify him,” the shadow said. Alejandro shook his head, leaning back on Laswell’s desk.

They had gathered here again, a little after breakfast and their morning training. Laswell had asked them to prep her and brief her on Starlight. Only Ghost had a real plan.

“We go in there as civilians,” he continued.

“We can’t be armed,” Alejandro said. “They’ll check us at the door, perros.” His lip twitched on the last word.

“We don’t need to go in armed,” Ghost said. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t arm ourselves inside.”

Laswell prickled up from behind her desk, pushing away dirty, greasy bangs from her eyes. “We can’t let Laura bring in the guns,” she sighed. “They’ll check her too.”

And just the image of some dogs pressing their hands on her made Ghost suck his teeth.

“We need to pull together a stealth operation,” he said. “We get some of our guys to go in during the day and stash the guns. When the club opens, we find the guns, let Laura identify Alvarez, and then we take him down.”

Soap shook his head. “His guys will have AKs if not automatics,” he offered. “We’ve got no chance if we can only get handheld guns in there, sir.”

“He’s right,” Laswell mumbled.

“Then we get rifles in there,” Ghost insisted.

Laswell sighed and slowly nodded. “Alright, Lieutenant, but please, do not add civilians to our casualties.”

Ghost nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I’ll have a team ready to go in this afternoon. We can have Laura ready for tonight.”

Alejandro pushed himself from the desk. “I’m still not fine with allowing a civilian girl into the crossfire, hermano.”

Ghost took a step towards him. “You want to catch Alvarez?” he asked. “You want to end this mission, go home, allow Laura back to her normal life?”

The other man took a breath in, calming the fire rising in his temples. “I do, but-”

“Then there’s no but, Vargas.” Ghost stood like a brick wall. “We get Alvarez, we shut down his entire ring, and we get the girl back to America.”

Ale nodded, even though Ghost could tell the man wasn’t happy with the idea, given his pursed lips. “She needs to be protected at all costs,” he said, silently, as if the idea itself was blasphemy.

Ghost stiffened. “She is.”

Laswell stood, knuckles on her desk. “Laura is our priority,” she said. “If she’s in any danger, it is your solemn order to protect and get her out alive. If anyone at the white house hears wind that we put an American girl’s head on the platter for Alvarez, they’ll have all our jobs.”

Ghost bit into his cheek, suppressing the urge to tell everyone that she was his priority. And no one else’s. But by the way Soap, Alejandro, and Gaz all nodded solemnly, they’d made Laura their sole mission too.

***

“Tonight?” I asked. Something akin to fear thudded, throbbed in my throat. Oh shit, I was going to vomit.

Soap nodded, stepping into the RV, followed by the whole gang; Alejandro, Ghost, and finally, Gaz. I backed up, allowing them space to file in and take a seat at the table, or like Ghost preferred, standing and blocking the only exit to the RV.

Soap was the first to talk. “We got guys stashing weapons in there for us.”

I turned to look at him. “As if that’s going to make me feel better.”

“You’ll be on comms with us,” he said soothingly. “All you have to do is well... identify Alvarez and get to the extraction point, where Laswell will be waiting for you. We’ll take care of Alvarez.”

I was simultaneously feeling relieved that home was mere hours away, a mission’s breadth away, but also frightened to the point my bones became sour under my skin. Fear made everything impossible.

I had opened the door to them; to these men who’d saved my life and asked one pitiful thing from me. And I had to deliver. I had to. For the sake of them and for the sake of my friends that had died.

I swallowed thickly. “What do I have to do?”

Soap smiled, something close to pride lifting his shoulders. “We’ll have you go in dressed as a civilian,” he said, pushing off the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s a club, so wear something... nice.”

I looked down at what I was wearing; jeans and an army green tee. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Soap chuckled, and I watched in utter embarrassment as Alejandro raised his eyebrow with a cheeky grin and Gaz ducked his chin to his chest. Only Ghost had no reaction.

“What?” I insisted.

Alejandro cleared his throat. “Mami, you look fine,” he said, reassuringly so. “But this club, eh how do I say this politely... it’s for people who want to go home with enjoyment, you see?”

I did see. I also saw Ghost stiffen ever the slightest from the corner of my eye.

“Oh,” I mumbled.

“And let’s just say that no one wears jeans,” Ale finished. “Or t-shirts. We’ll get the girls on base to hand you some things, yeah?”

I nodded, peeling away the sweat from my palms onto my jeans nervously.

Ale and Ghost left to find my nighttime attire while I stayed with Gaz and Soap. They walked me through my engagements; walk in, blend in, get invited to the upper lounge if I could, and by all means, get eyes on Alvarez.

I nodded, but really, inside me, I was running marathons around my head. I was trying to find any exit, any dark alley or corner to hide in, to pull into myself and disappear.

Soap handed me a device that fit into the hole of my ear and told me that the entire task force would be able to hear me and I’d be able to talk to them. It gave me a little bit of relief to know they would be a breath away.

Ale and Ghost came back, shuffling in cooling evening air and a pink plastic bag. Ale handed it to me as if the bag itself contained the most gruesome plague. I took it and walked to the bathroom defeated, spotting a tube of mascara in there.

When I got a good look at the clothes they brought me, I yelled.

“Pumpkin?” It was Soap at the door, but I put my back against it. When he pushed, I pushed right back.

“You’re not seriously asking me to wear this?” I called, holding the garment between my nails.

Soap chuckled. “How bad is it?” he asked me. And then, a few seconds after, his weight on the door released and I could hear him asking the same question to the others.

I sighed, pressing the flimsy fabric against my chest, feeling my heart beating through my skin.

I sighed, stripping out of my clothes and letting them fall to a puddle beside the toilet. Carefully, I undid the jean skirt and slipped into it. As guessed, it covered my ass and an inch lower, but I only had to bend over and the entire world would glimpse my Winnie the Pooh underwear. And the shirt, god the shirt, was only a thin black camisole with so much glitter that the floor was covered by the time I slipped it on. It left a nice slice of skin just over my skirt’s hem.

When I looked back into the bag, I found a pair of black Converse shoes. “What kind of bar is this?” I asked myself, lacing them up. They were a bit small for me, toes cramming into the tip. That would have to do, I guess. I reluctantly applied mascara and smudged a bit of it over my lid as eye shadow.

But there was no way in hell that I was walking out that door to face four grown military men. Not dressed like this.

“Soap?” I called through the door. I heard his footsteps come to the door, the weight of his shoulder press on the wood. “I need a sweater.”

No answer.

“Please, Soap,” I fidgeted. “I can’t step out the way I am. I look like a cheap escort.”

“It’s just us.” But it wasn’t Soap. It was Ghost, and his voice trailed through the flimsy wood of the door until I stepped away from it, let the door slide open a little. Until I could see his eyes peaking above his balaclava. He didn’t take his eyes off mine as he opened the door with one hand and handed me a black hoodie with the other. “Cover yourself up,” he ordered, and slammed the door shut. “The others are waiting outside.”

I ignored the rage climbing up my throat and the embarrassment seeping into my skin as I climbed into the hoodie and zipped it up. It was so big that it skimmed my knees and I zipped it up to my chin. It was warm, as if freshly worn, and the smell that clung to the fabric was absolutely Ghost’s smell.

It made me almost dizzy, to wear him like this. To slip my bare skin along the same fabric that warmed his.

I walked out and followed him silently, watching the sway of his shoulders, the shadows dancing on the grey of his hoodie. He stopped before the door, turning to face me, staring me down through the slit in his mask. “You’re scared,” he stated.

I nodded, trying to hide from his glare, ducking my chin to my chest. His fingers zapped out quickly, pinching my chin between his forefinger and thumb, tracing my eyes back to his. “Yes,” I breathed, a tremble beginning in my fingers and working its way up to my lip.

Ghost stared. Then he sighed. “If something goes wrong,” he said. “Just tell me where you are in there. Describe the walls, the floor, the people there. I’ll find you.”

I wanted to say that I had no doubt he’d find me. Hell, he’d find me in the dark. I had no doubt he could be ripped of all his senses and still manage to put his hands on me.

“How are you getting in?” I asked, watching as his fingers fell from my chin.

“I’m going in without the mask.”

My eyes rounded, looking up at him, almost reaching for his shoulder before he opened the door and a gust of warm, humid South Asian evening heat patted my skin. And Alejandro came into view, smiling up at me.

I couldn’t concentrate on the comment Soap gave as I shockingly stepped from the RV. Or the reassuring thing Gaz said in my ear. Or the way Ale was guiding me with a soft hand on my middle back.

All I could think about was that Simon, Ghost, would be in that club maskless.

#simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #cod #ghostxoc #ghost x oc #ghostxofc #ghost x ofc #simon rileyxoc #simon riley x oc #simon riley x ofc #fanfiction #fanfic #call of duty

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froms8nsashes · 1 year ago

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Joey hid behind her, looking around at the seadweller club the humans disguised as trolls found themselves in for jeevik week. The venue seemed to change just as they had gotten used to Cridea's hive party and were mingling with some trolls with Xefros' help. Of course, everyone's favorite friendly clown Marvus made sure that they weren't getting in trouble at the party, mostly he just wanted to look out for his lowblood friends.

Jeevik week day 2 had brought them to a club, Finz, located somewhere in the seadweller district. Everything was so fancy. Sometimes there were things made from solid gold. Cridea had handed them a bunch of cash before she disappeared into the partying crowd, apparently the dollars marked high were the only thing worth trading. Xefros was more anxious about the hundred bills, making Joey take them because she was so laid back about it.

"Omg! Cridea told me about You guYs! Love the horns bY the waY, theY reallY are blending in prettY well!"

"What! These- These aren't fake!" Xefros' eyes widened. He looked petrified.

"Dont worrY! Trust me when I saY this, no one cares. At least not here, people care about paryting and the music. It's not like in Outglut where You have to worrY about the heiress bombing us." She looked so laidback.

Isabel stole a look around the room noticing how all trolls from the hemospectrum mingled with one another. No one was terrified, no one was scared. It was convival.

"Even if someone causes a problem, we have some people to deal with." She giggled and put her hand on Xefros' shoulder. "MY matesprit is prettY strong." She nodded at the bar behind them. "Oh, You can call me Zilvie bY the waY. I'm a co-owner of this fine establishment,"

"Oh! I'm Joey, and this is Xefros, and my friend Isabel!"

"I... Still don't understand half of the things happening around us right now," Isabel whispered to Xefros, idly playing with the ends of her pink hair.

"Wait, co-owner? Does that mean the heiress owns this too?" Xefros asked.

"No, sillY! MY moirail and I own this place together, our whole deal was to create a place where people could mingle and feel safe,"

"Wow, that's not what I expected..."

"Wait, what did you expect?" Isabel looked around at all the grey-skinned trolls with candy corn colored horns. "Was something supposed to happen? Is this where we actually die?"

"Well... No one really knows what seadweller's are like, violet and fuschia kind of stick to their own crowd." Xefros was sweating and fidgeting alot, glancing at Zilvie every one in a while. Was he expecting her to cull him?

"The culture is fairlY different between the lower bloods on the spectrum, let's be honest." She chuckled. "AnYwaY! I hope You enjoY the partY," As quickly as she appeared from the crowd she had disappeared into the crowd again, although she was taller than most trolls she still blended into the sea of colors. With no idea where Cridea went Xefros and Joey looked a little lost. The trio were standing there, just standing without doing anything else.

"hey, wazz up lil rusties"

"Marvus!" Joey's face lit up and she relaxed.

"(oh no we're going to die)" Xefros whispered to Isabel.

"I ain't gon cull u wym" Marvus chuckled and ruffled his hair, towering over the three of them. "I saw u three bored so I figured I'd say hi lol :o)"

"It's just a little overwhelming is all, I mean, all these... trolls everywhere."

"Crowds get a lil easier more u be with 'em" Marvus shrugged. "Don't worry tho I could get you some seats" It surprised Isabel when he flashed finger guns and then waved for them to follow him.

For a juggalo and a purpleblood Marvus was the kindest they've encountered so far, even if he let Chahut hold Xefros and Isabel while Joey played his murder game. He was still very kind and very forgiving. The larger than life troll had sauntered over to table quite literally in the middle of the club. It was situated to face the stage where some lowblood seemed to be performing.

At further inspection there was someone sitting at the table. Another troll-- obviously cause why wouldn't they be a troll-- with violet colored hair. Their horns leaned toward another with a piercing connecting them at the pointed end. Red sunglasses covered their eyes and headphones hung around their neck. They wore a black hoodie over a dark violet turtle neck. Like the rest of the trolls there was a violet-colored symbol smack dab in the middle of their hoodie.

"/\Mmarvus I told you I'mm busy with sommethinng here./\" The troll didn't look up, just typing away on their husktop.

"yea I kno" The clown sat down and his eyes flickered to Xefros, Isabel, and Joey. "jo an her friends need somewhere to sit an this is the only open table"

"Oh, hey, that's the guy with the eye patch thingy up there." Isabel pointed at the mustard blooded troll. "What was their name..."

"Cirava." Xefros answered all too quickly, following suit as Joey sat down with the violet-blooded troll.

"So, I'm Joey and this is-- "

"/\Yea yea. I donn't have timme for mminnglinng./\"

"So, you're like some fish DJ?" Isabel asked.

Marvus' still looked pretty laidback but she noticed he tensed up a bit, looking the other way rather quickly. Xefros also looked like he was silently panicking, but he always was silently panicking.

"/\I amm nnot just a *fish DJ* actually callinng mme a fish is also derogatory./\"

"Well, aren't you a fish? I mean you have the webbed ears and I can see the gills poking out of the turtle neck." Isabel looked at Marvus and Xefros for a second, confused, then turned back to the other troll.

When the troll finally looked up they sported angel bite piercings and some pretty prominent fangs. The light of the husktop glinted on the red shades occluding their eyes from view. It was impossible to tell their reaction, mostly because the shades also covered part of their eyebrow. They really were too big.

"/\Get inn linne if you wannt to fill out mmy black quadrannt./\"

"I'm sorry what- "

"(I Xplained this to you on the train)" Xefros mumbled.

"Yeah, okay? I still don't get it." She said offhandedly to her companion. "There's no need to get worked up over some stupid nickname, you are literally a fish."

"/\Say that onne mmore timme.../\"

"Ok ok I kno things be getting rough especially bcause of the high energy but y don't u take it down a notch Chekrit"

And just like that Marvus was somehow able to smooth things over.

"Cehkrit? Like Cehkrit Fiahes?" Xefros' eyes lit up. "The faceless DJ that has been blowing up all over grubtube?"

"/\Yeah I'mm your faceless DJ kid./\"

"I didn't know trolls could have DJ's." Joey tilted her head. "Guess our planets really are similar,"

"Are you two moirails? You seem to listen to Marvus a lot." Joey asked.

"/\What nno mme annd Mmarvus are nnot mmoirails. Zilvie is mmy mmoirails./\"

"So then- "

"Joey! You can't just ask that!" Xefros threw a hand over her mouth quickly."

"/\I donn't have the ennergy to fill my red quadrannt or anny of mmy quadrannts at the mmommennt./\"

"I don't believe you at all, if you didn't have the energy then why- "

"I'm so sorry about her! Joey, let's go get something to drink!" Isabel moved so that Xefros and Joey could scoot out of the booth. She laughed at how protective he was being because she swore he said something about how cerulean's get protective of the people in their quadrants. Maybe that was all trolls?

"/\For ann alienn you still have a lot to learnn./\" Chekrit was back looking at his husktop.

"Wait, you two know I'm- "

"It's p obvious yo ur skin ain't gray" Marvus added a honk, leaning back on the side of the booth he took over completely.

"/\You also have traffic connes onn your head. I donn't knnow how people took that seriously./\"

"Do you get out, even a little? That is not how you talk to people."

"/\. Seadweller's are seperated fromm the the land-dweller's. Annd there is nno way I would talk to annother violet blood. All they wannt to talk about is cullinng./\"

"Why are you seperated?"

"Cuz we all b seperated" Marvus answered.

"Then how do you visit each other?"

"/\That's... *commplicated.*/\"

"I still don't get it,"

"/\You donn't get a lot of thinngs./\" Chekrit looked like he was rolling his eyes.

"hey play nice"

"/\This is starting to feel like ann ashenn quadrannt./\"

"Mayb it is mayb not"

"/\Sommetimmes I hate how laid back you are./\" Chekrit lowered the husktop screen but didn't fully close it. "/\You both are pitifully innfuriatinng but I also like it. Are you suggetinng ann ashenn quadrant./\"

"A what?" Isabel looked between the two trolls curiously. "What is going on right now? Am I being courted by the two of you or- "

"/\Technnically yes. I tennd to like the innsufferable onnes./\"

"Insufferable?!"

"/\What's this. What's that. Pick up a book. Clearly you havenn't./\" Was Cehkrit smiling?

"I don't mind the hate flirting but those lil rusties might" Marvus just sat there watching them like it was a show, or was he waiting to jump in when it got too intense?

Understanding quadrants and the way of relationships on Alternia was hard. It was weird. Most of all, where the hell do pails come in with all of this?

"Hate flirting? This isn't- What?!" Her face went red and she hid it in her shirt collar.

"/\I cann sennd you a book about quadrannts if you're really that clueless./\" Cehkrit chuckled.

"It might go 2 jo"

"/\Eh I donn't thinnk I care right nnow. I figured I swore of quadrannts but I guess I was wronng./\"

"You're so unenthusiastic."

"/\Annd you read like ann openn book./\"

"hey hey no pailing on the table we eat here"

"Butt out Marvus!" / "/\Butt out Mmarvus./\"

"aight just trying to loosen tension" He couldn't hold in his laugh and there was a hint of a smile.

"/\I'll take it you donn't knnow auspustice./\"

"Wha- "

"/\The ashenn quadrannt inn which conntainns three people. Let's say you me and Mmarvus for exammple. Mmarvus mmakes sure we donn't actually cull each other, but sommetimmes cann joinn inn onn the hating./\"

"So basically just enemies to lovers with a polyamorous twist?"

"/\What to what with a what twist./\"

"I'm not going to explain it." Isabel chuckled awkwardly. "So basically we have hate sex and sometimes Marvus watches?"

"tf yo" Marvus rose a brow.

Clearly these two trolls wouldn't understand speech from Earth.

"Nevermind."

"/\So technnically we're datinng annd Mmarvus is like the wisdomm or advice personn./\"

"Oh, okay. That makes sense."

Joey and Xefros were sitting at the bar. The redblooded troll couldn't help but keep glancing over at the trio sitting by the stage. He was anxious. Wringing his hands together worriedly as he sipped on a water. Well, barely actually touched the water. Joey was waiting for him to say something first. Happily drinking her water. It tasted very fruity. Better than the tap water back home.

"I can't believe she didn't get culled."

"She is naturally charismatic," Joey giggled. "It make sense how she can make friends so quickly.

"I was getting the vibe that he wanted to form a quadrant with her."

"But didn't he say- "

"Sometimes trolls don't say what they mean."

"Which quadrant?"

"Auspustice."

"Doesn't that mean they hate each other?"

"No, well yes. It does. Like I said, all relationships are different. Our quadrant is not a one size fits all. X("

"So auspustice can be like polyamory?"

"What?"

"Dating multiple people."

"Maybe,"

#homestuck #hiveswap #hiveswap friendsim #marvus xoloto #fan troll #fuck around and find out my dudes #uhhh guess who's back in the funky horns and grey skin fandom #its me #im bringing back my bullshit #prepare to be annoyed #fan kid #fuschia blood #violet blood #purple blood #burgundy blood #joey clare #xefros tritoh #cirava hermod

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rhyssands · 1 year ago

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oct 31 - trick or treat!

prompt: trick or treat rating: g wordcount: characters: Papyrus, Sans warnings: none prompt from this post, read it on ao3 here

——

Halloween is weird.

Of the many opinions Papyrus has so far about life on the Surface, this is one of them he maintains even after having lived up here for as long as he has. The holiday as a whole is just... Strange.

Not unpleasantly, not in a bad way, but it's strange nonetheless.

He does somewhat understand the object of the holiday: dress up as something spooky, obtain sweet treats from friendly people, spend time with the family. He even understands that the costume part seemingly originated as a way to ward off evil spirits or something, though that whole thing makes little sense to him.

Still, it's a strange holiday insofar as human holidays go.

Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving all seem to center on spending time with your loved ones and eating a ton of food and giving and receiving gifts or treats. There's a sort of cohesive idea to the whole thing. Christmas is just Gyftmas but with a different name, for Pete's sake (that's another thing: the figures of speech the humans use!), and Easter and Thanksgiving seem to just be seasonal variants on it despite the apparently enormous differences in why they're celebrated.

Perhaps he just doesn't understand well enough. Perhaps he never will.

That's okay.

Even though it's weird, Papyrus likes Halloween. He especially likes giving out candy, because then he gets to see all the interesting little costumes the humans pick.

"Trick or treat!" Cries a human child who is, apparently, doing their best to look like a skeleton, with white bones painted onto black clothes.

They've even been conscious enough to ensure their pelvis is covered by a pair of shorts so they aren't accidentally being indecent!

He laughs, "Why, what a great costume!" and he drops a full-size candy bar into their little pumpkin bucket.

"Thank you." The child replies, looking deeply pleased beneath their skeletal facepaint, "And thanks for the candy, mister!"

"Of course!" He says, with the same delighted grin he's been giving kids all night. His cheekbones are going to ache in the morning. "Have fun and stay safe, my little skeletal friend."

The child runs off with their parents, and Papyrus settles back in to wait for the next group of people to approach. Probably because he gives out full size candy, his and Sans's house is a popular stop for many trick-or-treaters. Sometimes they even give out caramel apples!

Speaking of...

"Sans!" He calls over his shoulder, through the open front door and into the house, "Are those apples ready?"

Sans all but manifests into the doorway — and Papyrus would not put it past him to have shortcutted the ten feet from the kitchen to the front door —, wielding a plate of caramel apples. Objectively speaking, they look perfect. Who would have guessed his lazybones brother would have a gift for making sweet treats!

"Got 'em right here, bro," Sans assures him with his usual lazy grin and lidded sockets. As he sets them down on the little table beside Papyrus, he says, "Got some more coming after this batch. Should have enough apples for the rest of the night now."

"Wonderful!" Papyrus says, to which Sans only smiles a little wider, "When you're done, you can help me hand them out."

By which, of course, he means that Sans can come sit in the other chair on the porch and make corny jokes at their visitors for the rest of the evening while Papyrus handles the distribution of candy and apples.

"Sure Paps," Sans replies, clearly understanding because he doesn't look at all bothered by the supposed work he's been given, "Be back in a flash."

He absolutely does shortcut to get back to the kitchen. Papyrus rolls his eyes so hard he thinks he may see the back of the inside of his skull for a second, but he can't help a fond smile at his brother's usual nonsense. Why would Sans walk the ten feet back in through the door and around the corner when he can just abuse the laws of physics to get there in less than two seconds?

It's comfortingly familiar.

Oh, well. Sans can't see him smiling about it, so it's fine.

Another trick-or-treater approaches, this one dressed as... Mettaton, he thinks, which isn't exactly spooky, but he knows that 'spooky' is often less important to children on Halloween than 'cool'. The costume looks homemade.

"Trick or treat." The kid says, striking a dramatic pose that is certainly worthy of the King of TV.

Papyrus happily drops a candy bar into their bucket. Then he says, "Would you like a caramel apple? They're fresh!"

They happily accept, thank him, and they're on their way.

Papyrus still hasn't stopped smiling.

Yes, Halloween is weird, but...

Well, that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it.

#undertale fic #undertale #sans (undertale)#papyrus (undertale)#fanfiction #my writing #rhysie.docx

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sunnyvillager · 1 year ago

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Just like the last few times this bright ‘n friendly face has reared her head ‘round Donnel’s store, he doesn’t even think for two seconds ‘bout looking down at what she’s up to– why should he? Quite frankly, he reckons that it’s none of his business.

Well, it quite literally is– that’s his produce and his livelihood she’s scooping up into her satchel– but that’s not what he means. All sorts of people do all sorts of odd things for survival, Donnel knows. So if one or two veggies are suddenly missing from his shelf, should he really care that bad? He can always grow more. That’s kind of one of the perks of being a farmer.

“Well, thank ya kindly!” A large grin is painted across his face, a glint in his eyes. Most folks in these parts can hardly recognize a top-of-the-mill squash when they see one! They just think a squash is a squash, nothin’ more, or nothin’ less, they can rarely discern what crops are at the top of the tiers of this store. This girl may be a petty thief, but she’s got eyes all right! “I wouldn’t go that far,” a nervous laugh escapes him, and his cheeks flush with pride, “but I put a lot o’ love into what I do!”

Pretending to be oblivious, Donnel turns his back to finish up rearranging the oranges– these are some damn good oranges, he thinks, they’ll sell like hotcakes! Maybe he should stock hotcakes, too, he's gotten pretty alright at cookin' so he could probably manage somethin'– and listens intently. One, two, three items rustle their way into her bag– maybe more! He doesn’t have the deftest ears, but he can definitely hear her take something.

It’s pretty sad, Donnel thinks. This lil’ community he and his wife have settled themselves into has been pretty darn nice, and pretty accepting, but the fact that there are folks struggling to get by to the point they hafta be stealing? That’s enough to tug Donnel’s heart right outta his chest! And he understands how it must feel– it’s probably humiliating for some people to ask for help, hence why this lovely lady would rather swipe a few fruits from the shelf instead of asking, begging, outright for freebies– so he's been closing his eyes and pretending that she hasn’t been snagging his carrots like they’re candy on Halloween. But...

Embarrassing or not, Donny must admit he’s feelin’ pretty nosey round about now, and he thinks he might have a smidgen of a right to know why she’s stealin’ so blatantly from him. Or, maybe, he can think about a workaround– something to stop her from snaggin' so much without being too mean. “So,” he draws a step back towards his counter and for a moment he looks down at the produce stand she had lingered at all that time– the potatoes are quite nicely arranged, like you wouldn’t notice one goin’ missing, like it had been covered up, “yer quite the enthusiast. Ever considered gettin’ into growin’ yer own crops?”

After all, that’d solve all her problems, right?

Harder to get hungry when you can grow your own rations! Heck, maybe Donny could even teach her! At the very least, he’ll throw her some seeds ta get her started. Donnel can’t help but get excited at the very thought of havin’ a protégé or somethin’...!

Turn-Up! [Patty & Donnel]

#{ on the fields #{ patty #{ turn up!

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years ago

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I’m not sure if anyone requested this yet, but can you write some sweet headcanons where Malleus, Vil, Riddle, Azul and f!s/o bond with their child? Like they've all graduated from NRC and they're adults and parents now. Thanks Raven!

Curiouser and Curiouser...

As the ruling family of the Valley of Thorns, you are often busy with political and economic affairs. One day, your child will become the next monarch, so they follow you around to important meetings (when they’re not with their royal tutors) and sit in to watch you and father work. This way, they are able to learn while also spending time with their parents.

A beloved family past time is taking a stroll in the palace gardens, hand in hand--your child holding one of yours, and one of dad’s. Malleus knows just what their favorite flower is, and sometimes does little magic tricks to get them to giggle--a shower of petals, or perhaps making all of their favorite flowers bloom in unison.

Sometimes Malleus joins his child for their lessons! It can be boring studying history books or practicing the violin alone, so he might read aloud to them, or take up a string instrument himself to show them the ropes!

Malleus also joins his child for the occasional spar. Of course, he never really goes all-out, but he does try to push them to think quick on their feet. Each battle tends to end with Malleus lying on the floor and pretending he has been “slain”--and when his child cautiously approaches to check on him, Malleus strikes back by tickling them until they’re squealing with laughter.

He knows it can be hard to get a grasp on magic, so when the first sparks start to appear in his child, he makes the time to help them control it. Malleus keeps mint candies in his robes to help cool fiery belches, and he kindly guides his child through shifting from humanoid to dragon and back.

There’s always ice-cream--the king’s favorite treat--on hand! He loves to share it with his child (especially if they’ve expelled a fiery burp earlier). Malleus constructs large and elaborate sundae boats to surprise them after a long day of their studies.

Malleus’s imposing height actually makes him the perfect playground for his child! They love to cling to his back or ride his shoulders, all while reaching up for the sky--which they hope to one day soar through with their father.

His status as an A-list celebrity tends to keep Vil away from home for extended periods of time, but he keeps in touch with his beloved family! That means lots of video calls with you and his child--and it makes all the moments you do spend together all the more meaningful. (Your child has a habit of pointing at magazine covers and the TV screen whenever they see their father on.)

Whenever Vil returns from work, he typically has a gift in hand for his child. It could be merchandise from whatever brand he has partnered with at the moment, a souvenir from abroad, or a plushie, flowers, or candy from his fans. It always brings a smile to his kid’s face--because their dad is thinking of them, even when they aren’t together.

Vil’s his child’s greatest supporter. He believes they can do anything they set their mind to, and he actively encourages them to work hard toward those goals. No matter how busy he is, Vil will show up to every sports game, every dance recital, every awards show his child is in.

He takes his child on lots of outings! The movies, restaurants, parks, spas, stores... anywhere, really! He thinks it is important for his child to see and experience as much of the world as they can--and besides, he loves doing anything and everything with them.

Vil allows his child to dig into his vanity and wardrobe for things to use for playing dress-up! He’ll sit at the kitchen counter and pretend to be a commentator as his child struts out in various outfits and looks they’ve thrown together.

Occasionally, Vil will sit down and let his kid make him “absolutely beautiful” with his own cosmetics. There’s a whole photo album in your phone of your husband in crooked lipstick and liner, or wildly messy eyeshadow, courtesy of your child.

If they have trouble sleeping, Vil will read a fairy tale to them--and he’ll crack a little smile when his child tells him he’s like the prince in the story. Other times, he’ll sing lullabies to soothe them. When they’ve, at last, settled into sleep, Vil will brush their hair aside and kiss them on the forehead, wishing them sweet dreams.

Riddle is stern, but not emotionally closed off. He has sworn to never be like the tyrant his mother was to him in his youth. Though he may be upset when his child does an oopsie, he takes a deep breath, brings himself down to eye level with them, and calmly explains why it is he feels the way he does. Together, they’ll talk out their feelings and find a compromise that works for both of them.

He plays tea party with his child, even going out of his way to properly address each of their stuffed animals by their full name and title. Riddle sits down in a small plastic chair and pretends to sip his “tea” (cola heavily diluted with water) and eat his “scones and sandwiches” (colored clay cut into lopsided triangles).

They look after the family pets--a pair of hedgehogs--together. Riddle shows hid child where the hedgehogs like to be scratched, and how to properly hold them and bathe them. They love to give the hedgehogs their food, the lie on their bellies and proper their faces up to watch the pets eat.

He sits down with them to help with their homework. If there’s something they don’t understand, Riddle can talk them through it--though he won’t just spout out the answer. He wants his child to be able to think critically for themselves--he’s there to provide a little nudge, if needed.

Riddle and his child often experiment in the kitchen. He’s sure to pick simple, kid-friendly and easy recipes, and makes sure that his kid follows proper safety precautions. They serve you up the dishes they make, from fruit sandwiches to pasta salads to no-bake cheesecakes.

Whenever he’s eating something with strawberries on it, he offers the fruit to his child, since he knows they also enjoy them. They typically banter back and forth a bit before agreeing to split the strawberries in half so both of them can enjoy~

He often takes his child out on strolls through the neighborhood so they can see what life is like outside of the house. If some neighborhood kids want to play with them, Riddle lets his child run freely--he’ll just keep a careful eye on them from a distance.

Like their father, your child is ambitious and intelligent for their age. You can often find them trying to negotiate with their father for various things: later bed times, more allowance for the week, cake for dessert instead of fruit tonight... Azul usually still wins in the end, but he’s a good sport about it and allows the conversations to drag on a little to encourage his kid to put together a coherent argument.

Speaking of allowance, Azul is sure to make sure his child earns that money through various small acts, like doing the dishes or taking out the trash. That’s part of how he shows his love: by instilling values of fairness and working hard into his kid. He also does his part to teach them about the benefits healthy eating and exercise, so his kid can live a long and healthy life!

His child sometimes surprises him at his workplace. Whenever that happens, Azul grants them their own special table in the corner and serves them himself. There’s plenty of free finger foods and endless refills for them, but he’ll gently scold them if they run the risk of overeating or indulging in too many unhealthy foods.

Azul takes his child to the pool or to the beach to swim! He’s notably less enthusiastic about it if he has to do so in his true form, but he’ll do it if his child begs enough. They’re fascinated by his many arms--and to be honest, they come in handy when Azul needs to make a quick rescue or prevent them from drifting too far out on their own. When they’re old enough, Azul holds their hand, and they dive deep to explore the depths.

When the winter comes, Azul personally secures his child in a scarf and several other warm layers before sending them out into the cold. The Coral Sea can get to frigid temperatures during these times of the year, and he tends to worry for his child’s wellbeing and health because of it.

Azul doesn’t give his child gifts often (he wants them to be appreciative for what they already have), but when he does, they are generous ones--a big kitchen playset, a cash register with tons of play money, a lightning-magic powered car they can actually ride in...

Family board game night! Azul has a cabinet full of tabletop card games and board games specifically for these occasions. Monopoly in particular is especially... stiff competition. There’s betrayal and drama around every corner, but you still have tons of fun regardless.

#twst #twst x reader #Malleus Draconia #Azul Ashengrotto #Vil Schoenheit #Riddle Rosehearts #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanons #Malleus Draconia x Reader #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Vil Schoenheit x Reader #Riddle Rosehearts x Reader #curiouser and curiouser #Reader #self insert

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