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not-5-rats · 21 days ago

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I made this mf as a joke...it was a joke, I took it too far, I adore them <3

Guess who made a second Bug :3

(sorta-? more of a Gator Boys oc lol)

☆---------------☆

Xanthe (Zanthe) Rhys

☆×.------------------------.×☆

'Red isn't a natural hair colour-' go away, this world has gator boys let my gay child have red hair 💥

☆---------------☆

Basic Info;

Nicknames: Xane, Dumbass, Simpy-Bug

Pronouns: All (They Change)

Gender Id: Genderfluid

Age: 19

Height: 5'10

Sexuality: Pansexual

Voice Claim: Kristofferson (Fantastic Mr Fox)

Alignment: Chaotic Nuetral

B-Day: 17th April

Conditions: Dyspraxia & Autism

Current Job: Tavern Bartender

☆---------------☆

Family;

(Relation - Name - Age - How Close They Are / 10)

Father - Marcus - 52 - 2/10

Mother - Dhalia - 48 - 1/10

Sister #1 - Imogen - 28 - 8/10

Sister #2 - Astrid - 26 -6/10

Brother - Helios - 21 - 9/10

N/A - Xanthe - 19 - N/A

☆---------------☆

Lil Bits;

They wear a choker which was 'gifted' to them by Jasmine (explained in backstory) it has a heart in the centre which is actually a lock, the key belonged to Jasmine who never returned it, so they physically can't remove it....well they could, but they couldn't bring themself to destroy it inorder to remove it so...it remained a constant reminder

The scarf was originally a way to cover just the choker as he was ashamed of it but as time went on the scarf became another part of Xane, she was never without it, it covered their mouth which meant they didn't have to put as much effort into their expressions

When he was super little Xane wanted to do sports, but due to her dyspraxia they really struggled to learn. And hell maybe if he bad kept trying she would've made it...but they were quickly convinced by a certain person to give up, they still wonder if they could had a chance in that field

They will flirt with everyone, there's no actual feelings behind it, it's just part of her 'personality' this includes the Bugs, if somebody doesn't like it though Xane stops instantly! Like several apologies and he gives them some space

LOVES FOXES, would beat a bitch up if they hurt a fox <3

Sends letter to his siblings everyday and tries to see them often <33

She enjoys painting, been doing it since they were little, it was the one things Jasmine wasn't able to take away from them. Well he took a break after the break-up because everytime she tried to paint just ended up being her...it was haunting. But they soon got back to it!!

To add onto the last point, when she meets the Bugs she instantly starts painting them. Even if he doesn't have any romantic feelings for them they still find the Bugs pretty, stunning even, so paints them and stores all the paintings in a box...maybe one day he'll share her talent...maybe

The weird bracelet thing they have (the purple, green and blue one) is a bracelet that all the siblings have, each colour represents one of them so each is slightly different but they all have them and all wear them 24/7 (the colours match the colours on the names)

☆---------------☆

Personality;

Upon first meeting them many people are quite disturbed by them, not because he's rude or talks about harsh topics but because she's so...different

He is extremely energetic and never tries to dull themself down for anyone else's comfort, she never feels the need to be quiet, they always have something to say so why should they remain silent? But the thing that really gets to people is just how...ehm...odd some of the things he says are. Most of the things they say could fall into one of three categories;

1) Self-Deprecating - It would be reasonable for anyone to guess that Xane hated himself, the way she spoke of herself, the jokes they made at his own expense, it's all quite harsh. She would call himself things such as, a fool, idiotic, irresponsible, expendable, useless, meaningless, really saying there was nothing Xane was good at. Many don't appreciate this sense of humour

2) Flirtatious - She seems to, in lack of a better word, 'simp' for almost everybody and isn't afraid to admit it! They never say anything intrusive or of a gross nature, it's just small things, such as mentioning that somebody is pretty or that he would love to take them on a date sometime

3) Confusing - It's like she speaks in riddles, you can't tell if what they're saying is just a load of nonsense...or if whatever he said secretly has a much deeper meaning to it. When first meeting them all of these are passed of as nonsense, but as you get to know them you realise that some of it isn't so random

Thanks to their way of speaking many don't want to talk to her, their often avoided by coworkers and strangers alike. Yet he doesn't change their ways, she remaines herself, refusing to turn into a different person just because others don't like their personality

If somebody decides that they don't mind, or even like, Xane's personality so stick around they'll soon start to see the cracks in her facade

As time goes on they realise that he becomes quite shut off as the evening comes, Xane seems to shut themself off certain days, she tries to reason why he isn't available...but often their excuses are lazy & clearly untrue, and if they do manage to drag him out on those days she just seems tired, distant even

Finally they'll find out that the only reason he's so vibrant & joyous is so that they can avoid facing their trauma, if she keeps a face of positivity, carelessness, inner freedom then he never has to accept the turmoil that bubbles inside of them

They want to let people in, so that he can finally let somebody see how hurt she is, show them the damage he holds...but they can't. She wants friends but he can't stand the idea of letting people get close, they don't want anybody to get any hint that he might not be as free from feelings as she seems

So they keep up the walls, she appears very odd, very intense, so that people will leave them alone. But as soon as somebody decides they still like him despite these oddities, she can't help but let them in

☆---------------☆

(cw!!!; manipulation, abuse, neglect, SA)

Also this probs doesn't make too much sense/ is repetitive, sorry babes'

Backstory;

Xane was born into a shitty household, there was no denying it

Her parents never loved one another, they simply tolerated each other. Sure they might have been in love when they initially married over 20 years ago but alot can happen over 20+ years...alot can change, so no they're not in love if anything they despise each other

This hatred flowed through the parents and into the children, both parents tried their hardest to convince their children to hate the other parent...little did they know most of their kids really needed very little convincing

Both parents were so caught up in their hatred for one another they forgot that they were meant to love their children, they had the first two kids because it's what they were told married couples did but the last one were only conceived to be used as a weapon in this war the two were fighting. So the children grew up with a dislike towards both parents, Xane was included in this

Xane was the last born child of the Rhys household, so whilst their siblings did try to protect him from their parents fight...it simply wasn't possible. So instead they just taught her how to ignore it, how to remained neutral, to stay out of their way

This meant Xane had to mature quickly, they had to leave their childhood behind and become a silent figure which haunted the home. It was awful, he barely felt like a real person, Xane felt like she was forced to be nothing in this stupid house...which is probably why it was so easy for her to take advantage of them

Xanthe met Jasmine when he was 9 and she was 10, the two met through their older siblings, the two were friends and due to how lonely Xane felt they were instantly obsessed with the idea of having a friend who was just as weird as them! It was amazing for Xane...but it soon took a turn

Jasmine asked Xane to be their 'partner' within the first year they met, obviously it wasn't a super serious relationship given their age but to Xane it was super serious, she was so happy! Not only had they just gotten his first friend they had also gotten their first girlfriend! That joy quickly dried up as Jasmine began to do...things, which Xane didn't like

She made them feel alone, more alone than they already felt, she convinced them their siblings hated him, they never cared, infact they were planning on abandoning Xane, leaving her alone

(What didn't help was that very soon after she started planting these ideas in his mind the eldest child left the household as they were now old enough to do so)

It left them feeling trapped, that Jasmine was all they had, if he left Jasmine he had nothing. Nobody else would be as 'accepting' as her, nobody would 'love' her as she did. And by the time Xane was 10 Jasmine had them all to herself and that's what made it so easy for her to do what she did

Jasmine's hands started wandering, Xane would protest but she convinced them that this is what people who loved one another did, and since he had no role model for what love looks like...Xane reluctantly accepted this reason

For three years Xane was trapped in Jasmine's grasp, she slowly got worse, the things she called him, the things she did to them...they way she violated her, these were things that, even after Jasmine left them, Xane never got over

When they were 13 Xane started to stand up to Jasmine, they never outright denied her but she started to push back against the things Jasmine was doing...so she left them. She abandoned them

This broke Xane, Jasmine was all they had for so long and now she was gone. What the fuxk were they to do? So he shielded herself off, hid away in their room, never speaking to anybody, never doing anything, just rotting there, day upon day. She had given up. What was the point anymore...

Luckily there were three people that never gave up on Xane. Everyday his siblings came and checked up on her, making sure they ate and drank, they even managed to drag him outside every few days! They were always there and since they were always there they obviously asked what was going on with her, why he was hiding away...but Xane refused to tell them

She wanted to, they needed to tell somebody...but he couldn't bring himself to...because they thought it was their own fault. She spent all her alone time pointing the finger at himself, they let Jasmine do these things, he didn't ask for help as it was happening...so what right did she have to blame Jasmine. There was also the fact that...Xane didn't think anyone would belive them. Jasmine's family were massively loved in the local community, his own mother was overjoyed to know Xane was friends with her!! So why would they believe them if they told everyone what she did...to add to this Jasmine was 11 when she started doing all these things...who would believe that an 11 year old would do this...nobody would believe them

So she never told anybody and instead learned to build a person around it. They never accepted their trauma, they ignored what happened and began to paint a new picture of who they were. Whilst inside the home Xane remained the blank canvas they were raised to be outside Xane became a new person

She was confident, careless, flirty, daring! He spent ages working on his new persona, learning mannerisms to keep up the look they decided to pick up. They became...what many would call a freak, she became the odd individual that everyone knows today...and he admired herself for it

Strangers didn't come near her, nobody wanted to risk talking to them due to how odd he was, people avoided her and pretty soon Xane realised why they loved being like this, they realised that now he was exactly who he needed to be back when they met her...cause if they were like this back then she wouldn't have done it. She wished they had changed earlier...but decided not to dwell on that for too long...they were safe, nobody would come near him anymore, this persona was their saviour

So the years passed, this persona growing stronger and stronger. Xane began to grow a reputation around the local area, the creep that lived round the corner, which led to them leaving town as soon as they became 17. I mean their siblings had already left, why would they stay?

They left town and ventured out, she soon found himself in the town in just beside the swamps which a certain couple of gators happened to inhabit. He got a job at a tavern (the job came with a free room upstairs of the bar...so how could they refuse) and actually became pretty popular at work, patrons of the tavern enjoyed bantering with Xane, the drunk liked her oddness alot more than the sober, so they leaned into it and people seemed to really like that

Of course they still haven't forgotten what happened...they doubt he ever will, but she feels better in life, even if he's living a lie atleast the lie is having a good life, the 'Xane' people know is happy...even if Xanthe herself isn't

☆---------------☆

How They Met The Boys/ Their Relationship;

It was late one evening, Xane didn't have work so decided to spend some time drinking in the tavern. They had heard myths about the 'creatures' since she moved in...yet he was sceptical. Sure she believed in the 'monsters', he'd been taught about them since she was young, but they doubted the creatures would live so close to a town!

So in her drunken state Xane decided he would go out into the forest and prove there were no 'monsters' out there, the other patrons were reluctant to let them go but she was quickly able to convince them

As he slumped through the trees they weren't paying loads of attention to where she was going...which led to them falling into the river. He splashed, trying desperately to bring themself to the surface...but she couldn't. They felt their life fading and their eyes falling shut...just as she passed out he was pulled from the water by our fav Gator-Dad <3

They were taken back to his cottage where he aided them, making sure he was alright. Xane tried to laugh of their incident...yet they weren't allowed to leave, Bodie wanted to ensure they were alright so encouraged her to stay for a few days...they agreed

At the time Xane arrived in the swamps Bug had already been there for a while, so they ended up talking quite alot. Bug still being injured and Xane not being sure where to go. Bugs relationship with Xane obviously depends Bug-to-Bug but I hope they get along ^^

Bodie defo gets the worst of Xane's flirting, he constantly ask if Bodie would ever consider dating a non gator, how he felt about marriage, even if she could steal a lil kiss for the road when they first tried to leave! He's never serious and Bodie can tell, which is why he just ignores her comments and questions. Bodie is the first one to realise that Xane was masking their inner feelings, he was the first to get under their facade...and he was the first person she ever spoke to about Jasmine. Something about his presence was comforting enough for him to tell. So now she's stopped making flirty comments towards him...mostly and sees him more like the father they never had

Timmy makes him laugh, his clumsy demeanor, the way his personality mirrored theirs just in a watered down way, she instantly liked him. They made little flirty comments towards him...and he just called them crazy, apart from that he bad no idea how to respond, be even seemed flustered at some points yet the more she did it the more he began to find ways to respond. Sometimes he played along and the rest of the time he just laughed with her. They're like best buddies

Marco...hm, they didn't spend much time together but Xane thinks he's the prettiest of the boys (totally not projecting-) like no she doesn't have a crush on him he just thinks Marco's a pretty lil croc. So he's when they first met she did make a couple comments which was...weird lol. Marco found the way they spoke to him kinda odd, he chose to ignore it but when it became clear she was making him even slightly uncomfy Xane stfu. Like bro apologised so quickly and never made another comment again. So yeah they don't really know one another but I feel that's for the better, they probs wouldn't get along too well

As time went on and days passed Xane found he didn't really want to leave, she appreciated the Gators and Bug, so they hung around for awhile :3

☆---------------☆

That's all I can think of! ^^ (this character is a bit of a projection of all my unhinged thoughts abt the boys lol (and kinda some of the backstory but we don't talk abt that) so yeah no don't take them too seriously-)

And here's him without the scarf!!!

#their a bit stupid and i adore them <3 #anyways look at my mf #how silly ^^#gator boys #the bug army #bug army #obsidian lantern #mage bunkshelf #capital m audios #daysprite #bug oc

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kellanved-ammanas · 4 months ago

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Hello! I really liked your spydad fics and I hope you write more, I like wholesome stories with spy

TF2 Drabbles: SpyDad - Good Job

Scout’s first proper painting ended up being a cartoony depiction of the Administrator making a goofy face as she got run over by a car. It wasn’t a good painting by any means, Scout’s unfamiliarity with the medium was evident but it was recognizable. Which was more than could’ve been said for Spy’s long ago first painting, barely even remembered at this point. Still he’d lent his expensive fancy paints to Scout only for this to be the end result; a bad painting that would probably get them both in trouble if the Administrator ever saw it. Maybe that should annoy him but well, it was Scout. His approach to art had always been different than Spy’s. That didn’t have make it bad.

He shifted to look at Scout, still wearing the painter’s apron that he’d made an even bigger mess on than it had had before. “I suppose I should count myself lucky you didn’t decide to depict me in an unflattering scenario this time.”

Scout shrugged. “I thought about it ‘cause it would’ve been funny but then uh… figured you wouldn’t appreciate the humor in that and might decide to not lend me you paint stuff anymore.”

“Hmm. You enjoyed it then?”

“It’s super different from pencils, coloured or normal, so it took a bit to get used to but uh, yeah, it was fun. It’s actually really nice not having to work so hard to get a solid colour, it just goes on like no big deal. How’d I do though? I know it looks awful but like, for my first time with a new art supply I think it’s pretty freaking decent.”

This is where Spy could crush Scout’s feelings of accomplishment if he were to apply his usual art standards to the piece but… he had no desire to do so. No, he wanted to encourage Scout’s artistic tendencies as he should’ve been around to do from the start. “I like it. You did a good job.” The words felt stiff and hollow in his mouth, he wasn’t used to giving much praise, but he did mean it. It wasn’t a good painting but he liked it anyway and the clear effort put into it made it a good job.

“Wait, really? Or are you just saying that to try to make me feel good or whatever before turning it into one your backhanded compliments?”

“No, I really do like it. It’s not my type of art but… I appreciate the effort you put into it. And for you first painting, it turned out rather well.”

“Um… okay then. Thanks. So I can uh, do this again sometime? Borrow your paints and stuff.”

“Yes, you may. Just ask first.” Though having stated interest in painting again, next time Spy got a chance, he’d buy Scout a set of paints for his own personal use. Probably he’d start with a slightly cheaper brand. “Also, before you head off, I advise against putting this painting anywhere the Administrator might see it.”

“No duh. I ain’t that stupid. Once it’s done drying I’m gonna… I don’t know, put it in my room I guess. And then it’ll stay there.”

“Very well. I was just making sure you didn’t do something stupid. Now let me teach you about the proper way to take care of your brushes.” He turned and started for the corner where he kept everything brush related.

Scout groaned but followed. “That sounds lame. How important is it really?”

“Extremely. Good brushes are expensive. Leaving them dirty for too long will ruin them.” Spy would also be getting him some cheaper brushes too. Still good ones but he wasn’t interested in letting Scout potentially ruin the best of the best, resulting in needing new ones.

#my writing #tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 drabbles #scout #spy #spydad

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jjlovesgoodies · 11 months ago

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I’m back with some more YTTD Headcanons!

Here are the type of dice I think the main 12 participants (+Ranger as a bonus) would have/use while playing Dungeons and Dragons:

Sara: She’d have one ‘cute’ pair of dice, it’s probably pink and/or sparkly.

Mishima: He uses the practice set that Nao made while trying to make resin dice. She has offered to make better ones for him, but he likes the charm of the slightly deformed ones she made first (even if they’re accidentally a little weighted making the d20 land on 7 most of the time).

Joe: He has one set of dice, but it’s all mis-matched dice that he bought separately. His dice set is his pride and joy.

(The rest of the characters under the cut)

Kai: Just using the cheapest dice he could find, he’s just here to see what the game Sara’s been hyping up so much is like.

Alice: He’d have saved up to get a good, kinda expensive set of dice for himself that he really likes, but Reko stole them, so he’s stuck using digital dice on his phone.

Reko: Stole Alice’s cool dice, refuses to give them back.

Nao: She made herself some resin dice, maybe they have multiple colours swirling around in them, they’d be pretty cool.

Shin: Total dice gremlin, has a massive collection of all sorts of colours/materials/etc but refuses to lend them to anyone.

Kanna: Exception to the above Headcanon, usually uses a shiny green set of dice that Shin lets her borrow.

Gin: He uses cheap plastic red dice because that’s the only thing he could get, but he doesn’t care as long as he gets to play D&D and possibly stab something.

Q-Taro: He’d either have the plain cheap red dice like Gin, or as my friend suggested he’d have metal dice. Either option works.

Keiji: He has no dice of his own, meaning he just uses his phone instead. But unlike using digital dice like Alice does, he’d use a goddamn random number generator. It unsettles everyone else at the table every time, to the point where others have offered to let him use their dice whenever he has to roll. He will not yield with the random number generator.

Bonus: Rio Ranger has stolen a dice or two from as many different people as he can without them noticing, so his set is a mix of everyone else’s.

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river-taxbird · 1 year ago

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Soon I'm going to be starting a master's degree in international accounting with data analytics, so to celebrate, I figured I'd pass on a little of what I know:

Artists: How to Cost your Commissions.

If you are an artist and you aren't sure what you should charge, or if you're not an artist but wonder why they might cost more than you'd expect, read on. This is just one way to do costing, but if you've not thought about it much, this post is for you.

I'm not a hustle bro, I'm just your friendly neighbourhood anarchist who picked a slightly incongruent degree and wants people to be fairly compensated for their labour.

First you need to determine your financial goal. This is where you want to be, and it's probably more than you think. This is assuming you either want to go full time with your art, or want to use it to supplement your income. If you are just doing it casually on the side you probably shouldn't think about it this hard and just skip to the part about the hourly rate.

So how much money do you need? Start by adding up all your expenses. All of them. Rent, food, entertainment, whatever. Include some extra for your savings. Don't forget tax too.

To calculate tax, you can't just multiply it by the percent either. You need to gross it up, so if the tax is 20% where you live, multiply your net financial goal it by 20/80 to get the tax you need to pay, so it's actually 25%. The same goes for if it's 40%, it would be 40/60. Add that as a other expense.

If you already have a job and want to supplement your income with commissions, your figure should be the difference between where you are now and where you want to be financially, but you need to be realistic.

Financial goal - Other Income = Commission Income Goal.

Next you need to determine your labour hours. This will vary widely depending on your style, habits, and other obligations, but it's up to you to determine how many hours a week or a month you are able to work. It also helps to do your budget with different amounts of labour hours so you can prepare for the unexpected. Maybe you can do 10 hours a week, maybe you can do 40. Don't forget to budget in time off. I'm never going to be in that hustle shit and work shouldn't dominate your life.

Now you should be able to calculate your approximate labour hours for the year. Maybe it's a little, maybe it's a lot, maybe you'll need to try some different numbers until you can get something that works for you, but I'm sure you can guess what comes next.

Required income ÷ Labour Hours = Cost per Hour

Have you ever walked into a business class by accident, and as the famous tweet says, the teacher is writing a fomula like that on the board and everyone is taking notes like it's actual school? Now you can use it too.

Next you need to figure out average times for each style of piece, colours, shading, backgrounds, extra characters, you should be able to get an idea of how long each kind of drawing takes, so from there it's just,

Cost per hour × Hours required = Commission Cost

It would be nice to be done there, right? Sadly this isn't a magical finance class class world, so if you've ever taken an econ 101 class, you know what's coming.

Supply and demand mostly only works in theory and falls apart in many real world circumstances, (Economists DNI) but for online art it's actually fairly reliable. The calculation above is what your ideal cost should be, especially if you are thinking of going full time, but in reality the main thing that determines your com prices is supply and demand. How much do people pay for art the same fidelity as yours? Is there a demand for your unique style? Some artists can charge hundreds an image because they are popular, some are great but the demand isn't there.

Basically what I'm saying is to massage the numbers until you commission cost is someone people are willing to pay for. That's finance baybeeee

The whole of this post is don't undervalue yourself. Even if the market value of your art is technically below what it should be for you to make ends meet, you shouldn't undervalue yourself. Keep your goals in mind and make your prices as high as they can while people will still pay for it. I can't wait for the day when market values are a thing of the past and people can make what they want because we are no longer being forced to do bullshit to survive.

Your art is probably worth more than you think. Value your time and charge what you deserve.

#costing #personal finance #economists log off #insomnia posting #the real secret is that living off commissions is usually not achievable for all but artists with top tier technical skills #so start a patron if you can

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skynighnine · 11 months ago

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chapter one - The Mask I Met

The venue is extravagant, to say the least. It was as if you’d stepped into an alternate reality, one filled wholly—filled with the scent of expensive fabric and the chatter of masked guests, as classical piano echoed inside the towering concrete all around. A sight to behold, for so many, yet you find yourself studying the scene and its every feature, getting lost in the monotonous minutia as you search, desperately, for something of substance.

You thought things could be different. But as they stand, you stand corrected. The space of this place! The walls and the floors, all so far and wide, so mighty—this big, it is, yet it feels so small it flattens everything in its captivity. It's like this, always the same.

You breathe. Breathe…

You suffocate.

Briskly, you climb the stairs. God knows you need the air.

The balcony you reach, but it seems someone has already struck the iron's blaze. A man, a wolf mask around his eyes, sporting an all-black suit and tie. He leans forward, tall frame draping onto the rails. He looks deep in thought, lips shaping a pout. His gaze is affixed wearily at the nighttime cityscape. You remain still. Though you'd meant to leave, you wonder about him, an anomaly among the drab, wearing a look you've never seen, save on yourself. As you examine the specimen, he sighs.

He hangs his head, then straightens his back, turning--and shrieking! as he catches sight of you. You silently meet his wide eyes, and a moment passes. Ah…

He murmurs a hello, copper-red head drooping.

“S-sorry!” you chirp out. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man somehow manages to look further alarmed.

“Ah! No, it was really all my fault. It happens often…” He gestures to nothing in particular, “...this.”

You smile, but your brows furrow in sympathy. "I meant to watch the stars for a bit." It’s him you ended up watching, though.

“Oh. Lovely night, isn’t it?”

“It’s more that it isn’t.”

He pauses. “Hm.” Was that too blunt?

“This is a good place. To collect your thoughts.” He seemed to have lots of those. You feel bad for interrupting them.

You take a tentative step forward, quietly perching at the rails.

“Oh, I’ll leave you to it,” he says.

“No, that’s not…” you jump slightly. “I’d like the company.”

The man looks torn. You think he’s debating whether he should find some sort of an excuse. Ultimately, he settles beside you. ‘There’s no better spot than this, so what choice do I have?’ you imagine him reason.

You look up. Maybe your thoughts are tainted, but the sky looks a bit faulty tonight. Sometimes, skies look painted on. But that’s a bit different. The way the colours mesh and blend and bleed in as clouds coat the canvas in a spilling embrace, you can’t help but admire. But what’s always remained etched in the back of your mind is a sight you haven’t seen for a long time. “I miss my sky.”

“Sorry?”

Oh. He’s still here. Obviously. And wait. Did…did you say that out loud?

Well… “I wasn’t born here.” You notice the man turn slightly in your direction, regarding you with the heed of a student taking notes. “Places like this, I couldn’t have even dreamt up, once upon a time. I used to run a bakery, you see. It was my uncle’s. As a child, I used to help him.” You chuckle, “I was the best at taste-testing, so I got the gig. At first, I wasn’t really one to bake myself, though. I remember trying to copy my uncle and failing, badly. But for some reason, I never stopped.”

“Oh~”

“No, it isn’t anything impressive. I think it’s more…inevitable? I grew up watching Uncle make sweets for people, and I’d see how his face would light up seeing someone enjoy what he made, and I guess I’d just been chasing that same feeling." Suddenly, you realise you've said a good lot. "Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve bored you, talking about myself like this.”

“No, I know what you mean.”

“You bake?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m an expert or anything, but... I think there’s something to be said about that feeling, when you put all your work into something that’s for someone else." He laughs softly, adding, "It sort of makes me really happy I did what I did when I hear them say I did well.”

You suppress a smile, fearing it might stretch too wide. It’s been a while, to say the least, since you’ve talked about something like this. And to a stranger, no less. But somehow, hearing him agree seems to mean a great deal to you. Maybe you were right about him, that there’s something in him you can’t place; dare you say, something that reminds you of yourself.

#original writing #writeblr #realistic fiction

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derireo-galge · 1 year ago

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Non-Sugar Free | 2,1k | bp!hoseok | sope✍🏼

Hoseok gets handed a leaflet advertising a new massage parlor nearby. He reckons he could do with a relaxing trearment. He comes in and falls for Yoongi's expert, successful and a little unconventional techniques.

~♡~

Some people would say being naive could be very dangerous nowadays. Hoseok agreed with that. Yet he also thought that this particular quality of his let him get into many adventures and made his life a lot more fun.

Because it's obvious that being naive didn't equal being stupid so he was at least careful and had enough common sense not to get into anything shady. At least not overly shady. Not overly shady that he himself didn't want to get into, if that made sense.

Once he was walking out of the subway when he was given a leaflet for a discount at a newly opened massage parlor. It offered all kinds of massages and basic spa procedures and was not too far from where he lived. There was one named after probably every nationality that existed in their region. Hobi admitted that he didn't know the difference between let's say Japanese and Vietnamese massage and if there was one at all. You know what they write on yogurt cups: sugar-free, salt-free, whatever else free but was it supposed to be there in the first place? Who knows?

He decided that he deserved to pamper himself. His job was pretty enjoyable but it didn't make it any less harder to do and the stress that is accumulated through a long period of time earlier or later would start taking a toll on anyone's body. So a massage at the weekend sounded really nice. He looked at the leaflet again: the salon was open twenty-four hours a day which meant that he could finish his working week not in a crowded bar with his lovely colleagues and not in a high-end restaurant with tiny portions and a date that would probably end up being useless as any other that he's been on with lately. It could instead be spent with benefits for himself and himself only.

The massage parlor looked pretty inconspicuous. It wasn't positioned in a mall or a plaza, it was in one if the flats in an upscale apartment complex. The interior looked neat and expensive, heavily accentuated with dark red and burgundy colours and had gorgeous half transparent curtains visible from the foyer.

The man that opened the door greeted him and invited him in.

- Is it your first time at Dawn? - he asked in a deep pleasant voice.

To that Hoseok fished out a flyer out of his pocket and unfolded it before demonstrating.

- I've been given this and would really like to try a massage.

- Ah, that's great. What's your name?

- Hobi, - Hoseok smiled.

He loved that nickname a lot. The man smiled at him warmly as if he was their regular client.

- And what kind of massage would you like? We have many available.

Hobi got slightly shy.

- You see, I'm not very knowledgeable about those you listed on the leaflet...

- That's alright, - the man said softly, - Do you want to see the brochures?

- Maybe you could recommend me something? - Hobi asked cutely, not really enthusiastic about reading a whole new bunch of information.

- Sure. This, I think, you will enjoy the most. We have a spot available right now.

He tapped on one of the options and Hobi nodded. He spotted the word "relaxing" in the description and decided that was all he needed to know. After paying up a hefty sum (the one he luckily could easily afford) he was given a fresh towel, slippers and a set of clothing.

- My name is Yoongi. I will be serving you today.

- Oh, you're the masseuse!

- Indeed I am. Usually we let the administrator go earlier before another one comes for night shift. - Yoongi explained casually.

He had a very enjoyable voice. Hoseok felt instantly at ease and followed the man to the changing rooms and was shown where to go afterwards. Once he changed he looked over himself in the tall mirror. He was given a set of disposable underwear, a really fine one. It even had a short top to cover his chest. It must be suitable for any gender or aimed to fit any preference. Hobi decided to wear the upper part. If needed he could take it off later.

- You look great, - he heard upon coming into the room.

Yoongi was already waiting for him, dressed in a set of uniform of a burgundy colour. He was standing next to a massage table covered in a big white sheet gesturing at it invitingly. The atmosphere in the room was soothing, with soft, barely audible music playing from somewhere. The lights were dimmed and there were candles burning along with light incense.

- I think we should start with your shoulders, - Yoongi suggested, - Could you position yourself here?

He patted the spot in front of him and Hobi sat there cross legged, facing away from the masseuse. Yoongi got some oil and rubbed it between his palms, warming it up, before laying his hands on Hobi's shoulders. It took some willpower for Hoseok not to let out a drawn sigh of relief. When was the last time he allowed himself something like that? Lately all his therapy came down to shopping and maybe a cheat day once a month.

Warm hands moved along his shoulders and neck. They truly performed magic, pressing certain spots and working out the knots, making Hoseok feel like the tension that he has kept inside started slowly seeping out from his muscles. Yoongi's thumbs circled on the sides of his neck, sliding in an unhurried rhythm.

- Breathe deeply, - he instructed softly, - In and out.

Hobi followed. He felt blood rushing into his head and his cheeks were tinted pink, probably due to the correct blood circulation. He felt like he has spent a whole day in the nature instead of an office with artificially purified air.

Then Yoongi's hands moved onto his clavicles and further towards his chest. His fingers slipped under the thin top, circling the defined pecs.

- Could you take your top off please? - the man asked and Hobi immediately did as he was told.

Yoongi took more oil and slathered it onto Hobi's chest. Very thoroughly he massaged the muscles, getting closer and closer to his pebbled nipples. At some point his thumbs went over them, sending a jolt of pleasure down Hoseok's body.

- Ah! - a moan slipped out of his mouth.

He felt his face getting blushy. He shouldn't have reacted like that, it was simply a massage. Alas, he couldn't help feeling sensitive when the thumbs brushed over his nipples again.

- Hnn, that... - he tried to think of the best word to describe it and finally blurted out, - That tickles.

Yoongi chuckled.

- It's okay. I need to massage everywhere in order to make you feel better. Feel free to express yourself however you want, - he said, going back to Hobi's shoulders to relax they after they went up in a shy manner.

Hoseok sat through the occasional touches and rubs to his nipples, feeling his body growing slightly tense around his lower belly. He found himself waiting for Yoongi's fingers to touch them again, to maybe pause over the sensitive buds for a little longer.

When Yoongi was done with his chest he took more substance and put it over Hobi's belly. He came up close, all but pressing into his back. His hand moved towards the panties that were getting soaked in oil and traced the skin just above the hem. Hoseok's legs that were bent at the knees parted wider and the hand moved over his groin, not stopping the soft rubbing motions.

- I need to massage here too, - he murmured and Hobi nodded.

Yoongi massaged over his pussy through the thin layer of the underwear, dipping his finger between the labia, and Hobi didn't know what to do with himself. It felt nice, maybe a little too nice. He regretted not reading the description of the massage in detail because he had no idea this was a part of it. But Yoongi was a professional, he knew better, right?

- Now let's work on this area, - Yoongi said and hooked his fingers on the underwear, pulling them aside slightly.

Hoseok's knees moved closer to each other.

- Is it really necessary? - Hobi asked shyly.

- Yes, it is the important part of the procedure, - Yoongi assured. - Spread your legs and leave it all to me.

Hobi slumped against Yoongi’s frame. He let the masseuse pull the panties to the side and leave his pussy covered in oil completely exposed.

- Just like that, you're doing good, - Yoongi drawled and put his hand between Hobi's legs again.

He slid his hand with his fingers splayed over the folds once, twice and then started moving it in a steady rhythm. His pace was gradually becoming more rapid, followed by sticky sounds of oil and the wetness Hobi produced. He kicked his hips up, meeting the pleasurable movements of the palm, feeling the growing need to finish overwhelming his body.

Yoongi would slow down and pause before picking the pace back up. He took short breaks to gently tap over his pussy, coax more wetness out of it with his expert fingers that curled inside just right. Yoongi's hand was relentless and Hobi kept bucking his hips to meet it. The man tried to keep him still by pressing him against his body with his arm around the shoulders and kept on sliding and rubbing with purpose.

Hoseok moaned and exploded with climax, trembling and panting in the ring of the strong arms. But if he thought it was the end of it, he was totally wrong. Yoongi's fingers crawled back to his entrance and pressed and massaged his pussy further as Hobi shuddered with blissful aftershocks. He couldn't help but come again, this time from added gentle rubs over his clit.

- There you go, you're doing amazing, - the masseuse praised and laid his client onto the massage table.

He prompted Hoseok to position his head slightly tilting back off the edge of the table. He obediently followed the strong hands that navigated him and he slumped on his back, still dazed from coming so hard and rapid.

- You listen really well, - Yoongi praised again, - Now keep your head just like that.

Hoseok perked up at the praise. He looked up at the man who stopped next to his head and his skillful hands went to pull down the pants of his uniform. He whipped his cock out, hard and thick and gripped the base of it securely. It was nice and wide, with a bulbous cockhead that was already beading with precome at the tip. Yoongi navigated his cock to slide the tip over Hobi's lips and the other mumbled:

- I guess this is necessary too?

- Of course, - Yoongi replied seriously, - A very important part of the treatment.

Hoseok sighed and opened his precome stained lips. Yoongi slid his length inside smoothly and it got engulfed by the wet warmth of Hoseok's mouth. It barely fit in but he did his best to relax and take as much of it as possible.

Yoongi made several careful thrusts and started bucking into his mouth, burying his girth inside him, reaching the back of his throat. Hobi felt it sliding in and out hotly and took it to the best of his abilities. Then the man bent over him and put his face between Hobi's spread legs, hugging his hips. He felt hot wet tongue sliding between his folds, sucking at his clit and then reaching inside his pussy.

He didn't expect to be eaten out so hungrily. Yoongi dipped his tongue in, slumped up his juices and swallowed his sensitive clit just as expertly as he was doing a massage. He hugged his hips tighter, pushing his face further between his legs and his warm puffs of breath tickled at his sensitive skin. He was getting positively devoured and was well on his way to his third orgasm which he honestly thought was unrealistic before. Yet here he was, leaking onto this man's tongue shamelessly who was eating his pussy like a person starving.

He felt Yoongi's cock he was fucking his mouth with twitching and soon his throat got filled with the other's release. Hobi came right after with the generous help of Yoongi's restless fingers that gave his pussy the best treatment he has ever received. Overall, he thought afterwards as he was being cleaned up by Yoongi from all the fluids splayed all over his body, it could be deemed as very resultative massage. Because, truly, he felt spent yet most relaxed he has felt in a long while.

~end

#ai-ee au #ai-ee au sope #sope #sope au

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takenbyheartstrings · 3 years ago

Text

HONEYMOON OF A LIFETIME.

summary: when MJ gets sick the day after her wedding, a non-refundable, all expenses paid honeymoon to a lodge up in the mountains waits for her. but she gets sick, and asks you and your biggest enemy to take her and Harry's place.

pairing: enemies to lovers! fake dating! peter parker x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT!! a bit angsty, fluffy, mentions of heights, mentions of cheating! i also did not proofread so sorry for that.

word count: 12.1k (2.8k of smut) you can tell i got carried away....

authors note: HEAVILY inspired by the Unhoneymooners!! THIS CAN be read as a generic Peter Parker fic, use ur imagination! I wrote this with Tom in my head but you can read it for Andrew or Tobey! There's a short flashback to the trip to Europe in FFH, but there's no mentions of villains or anything, so it literally can just be taken as a class trip (Gwen, Ned, Felicia, Betty, MJ, Mary Jane, Harry Osborn etc. are all in this) There's TWO mentions of web-shooters, but that's about all <3

MJ and Harry were getting married, this was a big deal. Way bigger than any of the plans that you had come up with for the past few months. You had spent day on top of day helping MJ and Harry plan their honeymoon, plan everything for their wedding. Harry was loaded and upon that, MJ felt like she needed to do something special for him that didn’t involve taking his money. She always felt like she had to make up for the things he’d buy her, even though she deserved them all.

So, when MJ had asked you to help her win a contest that consisted of an amazing, in the mountains, all expenses paid (undefendable) holiday resort, that just happened to fall a day after their wedding, you obviously agreed to help her. The two of you had won after hard months of signing paperwork, calling places, buying burner phones to help you get a better chance at this holiday. You won.

Everything was already handled, all they had to do was simply show up.

Harry was ecstatic that she went out of her way to do all this for him. But what they weren’t ecstatic about was what happened when the wedding ensued.

You heard a knock on the bridal suite’s door, opening it to find Peter Parker. The boy you had known for too long, the boy you hated and the boy who hated you. It simply was to put that you just didn’t like each other – or maybe it was the fact that the whole of High School and the whole of college the two of you were simply trying to fight for the top spot, and now you both had to share the spotlight at your two best friend’s wedding. You were too similar, never using that to get along, but it was some stupid competition that had never and probably would never die out.

You rolled your eyes as you met his, “What can I do for you, Parker?”

His eyes cascaded over you – usually, he would expect for you to be wearing something hideous, like most bridesmaid dresses were. But MJ was different, she had picked out simply the most beautiful thing Peter had ever seen on you, and he was taken aback for a moment. A stain dress in the colour of coral red sat on your skin, the V-line cutting way too deep that it almost reach your stomach, your shoes were white, and your hair wasn’t done yet, but he could tell everything just worked on you. You were the maid of honour and had he have not seen MJ yet; he probably would’ve thought you were the most beautiful person at the wedding.

But Peter didn’t know what he was thinking, so he shook himself out of his daze, meeting your eyes after almost a second, “Harry just wanted to me to see if MJ was alright,”

“He could’ve texted me.”

“Right, but he wanted me to see for myself,”

It bothered you a little that Harry didn’t trust you to tell Peter the truth – but he was slightly right, Peter would’ve texted you and you would’ve told him to fuck off. Harry had his reasons, you suppose.

You opened the door wider, reluctantly letting Peter inside, “Whatever,”

MJ smiles as Peter walks into the room, “Hey, Pete! What’s up?” Her face immediately turns to worry, “Is something wrong with Harry? Did he run away? Ohmygod, he probably ran away.”

Peter’s eyes widen, “Nonononono! Everything is fine, Harry just wanted me to see if you were okay.”

MJ lets go of her breath, “Oh! Well, I’m fine. Is he okay?”

“Great,” Peter confirms, “Well, that’s all, I’ll see you guys at the ceremony then.”

You watch Peter leave as Betty perks up, “At least Harry didn’t leave you.”

Gwen and Felicia both let out a gasp, “Betty!!”

“What?” She lifts her hands up in surrender, you and MJ locking eyes and laughing at your friends.

Thankfully, the ceremony goes smoothly and you’re currently watching MJ and Harry dance in the middle of the dance floor. You honestly couldn’t be prouder of your best friend. The dance was soon over and now it was time for you and Peter to give your speeches. You locked eyes with him as you stood where the microphone was, the gaze speaking volumes.

My speech is much better than yours.

You wish it was.

You cleared your throat as you felt all eyes on you – a pro at public speaking you had quickly become over your academic years, speech memorised, you knew you would ace this.

“When I had first met the bride and the groom, I thought oh god, what have I gotten myself into. I thought that twice in the same year,” You chuckle, “When I met MJ, I always knew she was destined for great things. For love. She deserved it and I knew that. But I’m not quite sure she did.”

You paused for a moment, meeting her soft smile. She was happy today. Her hair in a braid and veil over her head, the white dress she’d spoken down on oh so long ago graced her skin.

You laughed in familiar memory, “When MJ and I first talked about getting married – Which we both thought would happen to me first.” The guests laugh with you, “MJ had told me she wanted a black dress. I asked her why and she told me that it would match her soul. But today she’s wearing white. Today I see that her soul has been made brighter, made lighter. Her eyes sparkle with love every time she sees Harry. It was four years ago that MJ let herself fall in love. Regardless of Harry’s obvious pining over the past… eight years?” You question yourself, which gains another laugh, “But you got the girl, Harry, and you got the love you deserve, MJ, the love you both deserve. Congratulations.”

You wrap up your speech, feeling pride bubble up in your stomach, Peter’s eyes meeting yours and you could sense the feeling that he knew he was fucked. But you were wrong, the ‘fucked look’ Peter had on his face quickly turned into a mist of mischievous. You were fucked.

“I have never loved anyone.” Peter speaks, “Well, I have but not truely, I’ve had crushes, girlfriends. But I started to lose hope. I started to feel myself get lost. When I met Harry, we instantly clicked, and, no, this is not me professing my love for him.”

A laugh from the audience – even a slight snicker from you.

“I introduced him to our friends. I introduced him to MJ, and when Michelle walked away from us after making some sarcastic comment about death and destruction in our society, Harry turned to me and said, ‘I’m going to marry that girl,’… Maybe that’s when my hope in love restored. I watched Harry pine over someone for at least four years of his life. Continuing on, never having eyes for anyone else but MJ. He never pressured himself on her. He never asked her out – and, although, he claims he made the first move… I’m not one hundred percent sure that’s actually true.”

Peter sighs, turning to face both Harry and MJ. Tears in their eyes… something that you hadn’t done… It didn’t matter about winning and losing anymore, though, you were just happy they were happy and besides, Peter would not let you forget that he made them cry and you didn’t.

“Thank you… Thank you for restoring hope in love, if not just for me… for everyone here.” Peter lifts his flute of champagne, “Congratulations.”

Everyone claps for Peter, and you can almost feel tears welling in your eyes too. The speech had moved you, to say the least… God, you hated to admit that.

Peter’s eyes glanced over you and all he could do was smirk.

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention to the meal on your plate.

The next morning you were getting text after text, your phone essentially waking you up if not for your alarm going off two minutes after you could barely open your eyes. You opened your eyes to see twenty-five missed calls from MJ and fifty missed calls and over one hundred texts from Harry. You sat up, your hair a mess and wearing an oversized t-shirt you got from Italy on that school trip. Peter had actually bought it for you. You couldn’t remember why, but it stuck with you.

Immediately, you got out of bed and hurried up to Harry and MJ’s room in the elevator. You furiously knocked on the door wondering what had happened… if they were dead. Your knuckles were getting red and swollen from how hard you were pounding on the door. You went to hit the door again but met with Peter’s face.

“God, why the fuck are you here?” You question Peter as you barge into the room, finding Harry pacing back and forth in the middle of their penthouse, “Where’s MJ?” You questioned her, now husband.

“Throwing up in the toilet.” Harry spoke, “She’s got fucking food poising, the chef fucked up her steak last night and now she’s going to be here for about five days.”

“But what about your honeymoon?” Peter questions, “Didn’t MJ work her ass off to get that holiday for the two of you?”

MJ walks into the room, trash can in hand.

“Babe, what are you doing away from the bathroom?” Harry asks running over to her side again.

“I need to talk about the honeymoon… okay, I just, take it guys. You both need time off. The Bugle has you doing numbers, y/n. They have been for three years, let yourself relax, you have like ten thousand holiday days.”

“No, I can’t-” You’re interrupted.

“Yes. You can.” She groans, clutching her stomach, “…and Peter, you go too. You’re fucking Spider-Man, if that isn’t a cry for a time away, I don’t know what is.”

“But New York-” He’s interrupted.

“New York will last five days.”

You let out a dry laugh, “Regardless of whatever this is, MJ, I am not, going on a holiday to a resort in the mountains alone with Penis Parker.”

The nickname had to sting – You knew it did by the way Peter looked at you afterwards.

“God, you are such a bitch!” He groans, “All you do is fucking take the piss out of me, if you don’t want to go, then I’ll go on my fucking own.”

“Way to be a good role model for the children of New York.”

“At least I am a role model. You work for someone, and you are someone that only has shit falling out of her mouth.”

The irony of MJ’s vomiting interrupting Peter’s last comment made you chuckle slightly, but also rest a hand on your best friends shoulder as Harry looks at the two of you with an apology in his eyes. Even though there’s nothing to apologise for.

MJ groans, “Please, just do this. Y/n, you worked your ass off to ensure I got this, and if you don’t go that means all those months were put into nothing. I can’t have that happen. Harry and I can always pay to go back, but I know if I don’t ask you to do this now, you will never let yourself go on a holiday. You will never treat yourself.”

You feel guilty and you know she’s right. You’d probably never let yourself go. You never did. Even when you guys would go out partying, Jameson would always call you and order you around to do things for him and you had to comply otherwise you would get fired from the only job that actually paid you. You weren’t as lucky to get a job at Oscorp like Peter had, even if Norman knew you both, he took Peter based on the results of his application. You couldn’t fault Norman for being fair… your project just wasn’t as good as Peter’s, and you had to face that. So, no, you would never let yourself relax. Not as long as you worked for Jameson. A job that could disappear from under your feet in seconds.

She turns back to Peter, “How many times have you come to my window all beat up, begging for Harry and I to patch you up? How many times have you wished for a normal life, Peter? Remember the trip to Europe? You were constantly telling Ned how you just wanted to live. Without the responsibility of being Spider-Man? Well, guess what Peter, that’s never going to happen, and you know that, but, dude,” She coughs, “Take the five days to at least try to live that life. You might both hate each other, but you’re missing the point where it’s a resort, up in a mountain with skiing and skiing and hot cocoa all just five minutes away from you. You don’t have to spend any time together.”

Harry holds her hair up as she throws up her food once more, patting his wife’s back he looks at both of you, “C’mon guys, it’ll be good for you both – we all know that. There’s no point in lying to yourselves.”

“Okay, sure, but doesn’t Peter have a girlfriend he can take? What happened to that Mary Jane girl?” You query as Peter’s eyes meet yours, his jaw clenched.

“She broke up with me.”

“That is rough,” Your sarcastic tone wasn’t hidden. You didn’t feel sorry for the guy.

He lets out a dry chuckle, “What about you and Eddie Brock?”

Your gaze snaps, “Fuck you, Peter.” He knew that Eddie had cheated on you, everyone knew that Eddie cheated on you. That was before he skipped town to San Francisco, you hadn’t seen him since.

He chuckles, “You wish.”

You make a gagging noise, and it makes MJ throw up, you cover your mouth, “I’m so sorry,”

When she’s done, she just lets out a small laugh, before groaning again, “You two are going, end of discussion. You both need it… please.” She looks up at you with pleading eyes, “This is the least you could do.”

You and Peter exchange a glance, “…Fine.” You speak in chorus.

“When’s the flight leave?” Peter questions.

Harry looks at his phone and then the two of you, “Tomorrow at ten,”

“Great…” You mutter, turning and leaving the room.

Somehow you and Peter had come to an agreement that he’d pick you up from your apartment the next day and drive you both to the airport. You weren’t complaining though because it would mean you wouldn’t have to keep your car at the airport for extra cost. You were okay with that. What you weren’t okay with was having to share a room with Peter, a car, sit next to him on the plane. Spend a whole five days with him but you were trying to look on the bright side… you’d already spent eight years knowing him, what’s five more days?

You heard a knock on your door, slipping on your backpack and dragging your suitcase to the door, opening it, to find Peter standing there. It was cold in New York, of course it was, it was winter… You had no doubt it would be colder up in the mountains. You and Peter were both wearing coats, but he looked pristine; clean and his hair was styled to fit that, but you knew that his natural curls would come out later, they always had.

You and Peter were trying to make the best of a bad situation. What had occurred to you both, was that there really wasn’t a reason for competition on this trip. So ultimately, there wouldn’t really be any arguments… right? So, you were trying to be nice to Peter. But the two of you couldn’t even do that.

“Ready to go?” Peter asks.

“Stating the obvious?” You quirk an eyebrow, etching your head to your suitcase, “Let’s just leave. You drive like a grandma.”

“I do not drive like a grandma.” Peter says offended as he follows you into the elevator, pressing the button to the ground floor.

“Yes,” You let out a dry laugh, “You do… you’re slow and always so cautious.”

“That says more about you than it does about me.” Peter’s eyes meet yours with a smirk playing on his lips.

You shake your head as the elevator doors open. Dragging your bags to Peter’s car which is parked on the side of the road. He pops the trunk, and you slide your suitcase next to his and when you see it, you can’t help but laugh.

“You do not have a suitcase with spider-webs on it.”

“What about it?” Peter asks getting into his seat, starting the heat so that the car would be warm for the both of you – he didn’t hate you that much, and technically speaking, he would also be affected.

“You bought your own merch!” You say between laughs, snorting.

“Technically, it’s not. It’s just spider-webs.”

“Whatever, Insect.”

Peter rolls his eyes at the nickname, watching you as you settle into your seat, peeling off your jacket to reveal your navy Henley, which you had paired with a pair of jeans. He thought you looked pretty. Just like he had at the wedding. But he shook all thoughts out of his head. You were you and he wasn’t supposed like you… not anymore.

Peter peeled off his own coat. You watched as the familiar blue shirt appeared, “You still have that?” You questioned the spider.

He smiles hesitant, “Yeah, it was still good, still fits, so I didn’t wanna get rid of it, y’know?”

“…Oh. Yeah. I get that.” You say and face the window of the car as Peter starts to drive.

Peter watched you take pictures with MJ and Ned, he was going to approach but it wasn’t long before Ned walked away with Betty and Brad gave you a sweet smile, offering to take a picture of the two of you. Pigeons starting to fly on MJ’s arms. Harry laughed at his crush, but Peter just watched from afar.

You could only smile at Brad. You were possibly one of the nicest people Peter had known, but, you and Peter had this rival thing, and you weren’t so nice to him, so he had to bite back. He wanted to tell you that, he wanted to tell you that he had a crush on you. But that was impossible. He couldn’t do that. You’d think he was crazy.

The only people that knew about Peter’s crush on you was Aunt May Peter had opened up about his crush on you to her. She thought it was sweet but hated how you disliked her sweet boy.

Peter watched as Eddie walked up to you, MJ and Harry going over to a stand to get some gelato, Peter thought it was great he was trying to get closer to MJ. Flash and Ned arguing over something Peter couldn’t hear, Gwen and Betty snickering at the way Mr. Harrington dropped his camera into the ocean and yet his focus was all on you and Eddie. Eddie talking you up.

“What do you think of this photo? Should I post it?” You questioned the boy in the leather jacket.

He smiled, giving you a charming glance, “I think you look beautiful.”

You bite your lip, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Peter could feel something brewing in his stomach, gripping the present he had bought you in his hand – knowing it was no use to try and get closer to you. Try to tell you what he felt. You clearly liked Eddie and Eddie liked you. Peter would come nowhere close in comparison. Peter wasn’t the guy you liked – Peter was the guy you hated… and he knew that would never change.

Ned and Harry came up beside Peter, “What’cha doin’?” Ned questions.

Peter slides the gift box back into his pocket, “Nothing…” A glance back to you and then back at his friends, “… Just deciding if I want gelato or if I should take the MJ route and have a cup of espresso.”

You watched Peter and his friends walk up to the gelato stand. You were in a good mood, so you figured you’d join them. Talk to them. You were only trying to be nice. When you finally caught up, you noticed the flannel Peter was wearing looked very fit on him, snug. He filled it out well. At this point you had no idea he was Spider-Man. Maybe if you had, the muscles would make more sense… but that was later on in the trip, and you were only at the beginning.

“Shirt looks good, Parker.” You smiled, turning to the vendor, “Mango, please?”

Peter had decided then and there that he was never getting rid of that shirt… He also decided that Mango was now his favourite flavour of gelato.

The memory had stuck with you and Peter. You weren’t sure if he remembered it, but you definitely did. It was one of the nicer exchanges you and Peter have had over the many years you’d known each other. You don’t know why, but it was something you thought about often. Like, every time you saw him your mind would immediately think about that memory. It was strange… and the blue shirt, god, it brought it all back.

You didn’t know how you felt about Peter during the trip to Europe. You were talking to Eddie. You had feelings for Eddie. You had ended up with Eddie for the rest of high school, and two years into college before finding out he was cheating on you almost half the time you were together. It broke you… honestly, it did. You always wondered what could’ve been if you set your hatred aside and changed things on that trip, confessed to yourself that you had a slight crush on Peter.

The whole reason you had ended up with Peter on that bridge in Prague was because he wanted to talk and instead of telling you about his crush, or his need to stop the feud… he confessed he was Spider-Man, you asked him why he would tell you something like that. He told you everyone in your friend group knew from Gwen to Ned. You were slightly offended that everyone knew before you – You were the girl Peter disliked the most in the whole group. Part of you was hurt by that. Part of you understood.

You still thought about that night on the bridge, what would’ve happened if you had just listened to your gut and kissed Peter. But you didn’t feel that way about him anymore. You didn’t think so, anyway. Regardless, he definitely did not feel the same.

The car ride to the airport wasn’t as long as you had expected it to be. Peter played the radio the whole time and you could hear him laughing quietly at some of the segments, specifically, the one where people would call in and do the quizzes to win a cash prize. You wanted to suggest Peter call, since he was muttering all the right answers to the questions, but you could assume he’d already tried that before… and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.

“We’re here.” Peter spoke as you pulled into the parking spot Peter would be paying for over the next five days.

“Stating the obvious once again.”

“Get out of the car, y/n.” He speaks deadpanned.

“Gladly.” You give a sweet smile, before dropping it and opening the door.

The two of you were only at the domestic airport, so there wasn’t really much to do. You had gone through baggage check, ID check, all of that and now the two of you were munching on McDonalds that you had offered to pay for. You played with the ring on the middle finger of your left hand. Peter was on his phone. He had finished his meal rather quickly. He looked up at you, he could sense you were staring at him. You didn’t know you were.

“What?” He questions you, putting his phone down flat on the table.

You snicker, taking a bite of your McChicken, “You just ate that really fast, like, super fast… have you ever considered entering a hotdog eating contest or something?” You sounded so stupid. But you didn't notice that until after you had spoken.

“One: no. Two: they’re a waste of food. There are people starving on the streets and then there are people who eat them just for other people’s entertainment.” Peter stole a fry from your box.

You pursed your bottom lip, “Huh,” You shrug, Peter goes for another fry, but you slap his hand away, “If you’re really that hungry, go grab yourself another meal.”

Peter rolls his eyes, “Fine, I’ll be back in a sec.”

“You won’t be missed.” You wave.

The next few moments were kind of a blur to you. It felt like you blacked out if you were being honest, because the moment you met eyes with Eddie from across the airport and the red headed girl standing next to him, he smiled. He had the audacity to smile at you. He wasn’t with the girl he had cheated on you with… Good to know that was over, but he was with a familiar face. Eddie and his girlfriend also had the audacity to walk over to you. Noticing what he was doing, you decided you were going to be the bigger person, smile, and be nice. Even though you had every right not to be, it was four years ago.

Once you had got a good look at the girl with him… your jaw almost dropped. He was now with Mary Jane Watson. You could not contain your shock, wide eyes as they approached you with a sight you never thought you would see.

“Ohmygod!” You smiled, “Hi, Eddie. Hi, Mary Jane.”

“Oh, it’s just MJ,” She corrects. You’d like to roll your eyes, for your MJ. But you know she would rather you didn’t.

“…Right.” You smile so hard your jaw hurts, “So what brings the two of you here?”

“Well, we’re headed to Vermont… Beautiful lodge there. We’re excited to go skiing and such.”

Your jaw almost dropped again, Vermont as in the same Vermont you were going to, “Which lodge?” You questioned, praying, it wasn’t the same one that you were going to.

“Stowe.” He smiles, Mary Jane’s hand gripping to his.

The awkwardly loud laugh that didn’t sound like a laugh at all just slipped out, and so did the next words that came out of your mouth, “Well, my fiancé and I are headed there too funnily enough.”

“Is he around?” Eddie asks his eyes scanning the area.

All in a short moment Peter comes back and you know exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, “Baby! You’re back!” You cheer.

Peter looks shocked for a moment, but when his eyes land on both Mary Jane and Eddie who both cannot contain their shock, whilst your back is turned to them, you quickly slip the cheap ring that you were toying with earlier onto your ring finger. It didn’t look like an engagement ring... Not at all. But if they asked, you’d just say the two of you were waiting to pick together. Peter met your eyes, and you give him a panicked look, and he immediately understood what was happening.

Peter’s arm slips around your waist, “Hi,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You want to jump away from him, as if his touch was fire, but you had to suck it up.

“Hi.” You try to smile genuine, and you kinda do, feeling Peter’s warm eyes on you with a smile on his face was new, “I was just telling Eddie and Mary Jane here about how we’re going up to the lodge to celebrate our engagement! Turns our they’re going to the same place as us.”

You want to cry.

“Wow.” Peter says in shock, “It’s good to see you both,”

The look on both their faces does not disappoint. The last time they saw you and Peter, you were constantly at each other’s throats and now it appeared as though you were not. When the dynamic between you hadn’t changed at all.

What you also didn’t know was how long-ago Mary Jane and Peter had broken up. You could assume about a year and a half ago, maybe a year, but you weren’t so sure. All you knew is that you had to make this even more convincing.

“Well, we should catch up while we’re at the lodge…” Eddie speaks whilst him and Mary Jane exchange a look, clearly interested in the story of how you and Peter ‘ended up’ together.

“Sure will!” Peter speaks, poison in his voice.

The couple walks away and once out of earshot Peter shoots you a look, “What the fuck was that y/n.”

You bury your face in your hands, “I have no clue, Peter! I panicked! It’s not every day you see your ex and your ex together going to the same place as you.”

Peter sighs, “Yeah, I know… but now we have to pretend we’re dating each other.”

The plane was also unpleasant but who was surprised? It was an hour and a half squished next to Peter. You sighed as you got comfortable in your seat, you had the isle and Peter had the window, some random guy had the window – you felt bad for him because if he needed to go to the bathroom, he couldn’t just stick to the roof like Peter… but then again, it was an hour and a half… so, not that long.

There was only one way this trip could get worse, you cursed every god there was, you cursed every relative that came before you. You were petrified and when Peter saw who was in the aisle seat next to you, Peter grabbed your hand.

Mary Jane laughs, “Funny seeing you guys!” She takes her seat next to Eddie.

Eddie waves awkwardly, clearly not anymore impressed by this by you.

You turn back to Peter, your hand still gripping his. His veins were popping, due to the shortness of the flight there was nothing for you and Peter to do to avoid Eddie and Mary Jane in full. There was no TV so you couldn’t indulge in a movie and by the time the flight had begun to take off, you realised you had left your book in your bag above, unbothered to grab it.

You smiled at Peter, “So…”

“So…”

You and Peter had never actively sought out a conversation, every spit usually came naturally. The two of you probably would’ve already been throwing insults at each other if it wasn’t for Eddie and Mary Jane sitting in the seats next to you.

“The shirt is nice.” You commented. Slapping yourself for mentioning it again.

He chuckles noticing your regret, “We haven’t really talked in a while, have we?” Peter questions.

You take a step and move back in your seat, placing your head on Peter’s shoulder, your hands still connected. If Eddie and Mary Jane didn’t believe this, you were shocked, because for a second you did.

Peter freezes under the sudden contact, he was so close to you it kinda scared him. He felt the weight of your head get heavier as then he noticed your eyes then closed. You had fallen asleep. Peter took the next step and slipped his head over yours. Your hands still gripped together as you both napped for an hour and a half.

The plane landed and it jolted you and Peter awake, Eddie and Mary Jane were obnoxiously loud and when it came to picking up baggage. You could visibly roll your eyes – but you could feel theirs on you and you didn’t want to seem rude. First time in forever.

You and Peter find your rental car, getting through baggage claim quickly just fast enough to escape Eddie and Mary Jane. When you and Peter finally got in the car, you both let out a breath of relief. They hadn’t talked to the two of you, but they were impossible to ignore and avoid. It made your skin crawl.

“Fuck…That.” You speak aloud for the two of you.

“Yeah…” Peter lets out a large breath, seemingly, the two of you had been unaware of holding one.

Peter started to drive, “They were so fucking loud.”

You groan, “Tell me about it! How can two people make that much noise and kiss so much.”

He lets out a loud laugh, “They looked like animals, honestly.”

You chuckle, forgetting what the dynamic was before you. The two of you were actually like friends. It was nice and it was familiar, at the beginning, you and Peter were close. But that was before you let academics get the best of you both. It sucked. Peter was quickly made your rival – your enemy, and both of you being competitive helped nothing at all. It was draining for the both of you. On top of decathlon, on top of chemistry, bio and physics, on top of doing the same major at school, both of you with a minor in journalism. It sucked. Constantly putting yourself against him. Sometimes, you wonder if you could’ve just put it aside for a moment, maybe worked together, the two of you would actually be friends rather than frenemies???

The laughing died out for a short moment before Peter got serious, “Sucks that they have each other, though.”

You stare out the window, “Tell me about it…” You trail off, “When did Mary Jane break up with you?” It was a daring question and maybe you shouldn’t have asked, but it felt right to ask in the moment. It felt like something you should talk about.

Peter’s breath is pressed from his cheeks, “Year and a half ago,” You were right, “Nothing really happened though.” He shrugged.

It affected him more than he let off and you knew that. Peter wasn’t being subtle, but he wasn’t, and you weren’t going to press on it anymore. The two of you weren’t that close.

“HOLY FUCK THERE’S A HOTTUB!” You almost scream, probably way too excited, through the room, Peter runs out to meet you, his hand running over the edges of the machine.

“I will be taking full advantage of this.” Peter mutters under his breath as you watch him walk back into the room.

It was a pretty standard honeymoon room. There was a heart made of roses on the bed – something you thought only existed in the movies, flutes of champagne sprinkled around the room as if this was a totally normal occurrence and a tray with wine and pamphlets that showed a couple activities the two of you could do in the snowy mountains. There was a couch and a TV, and you were sure one of them would be sleeping on the couch… and that someone wouldn’t be you.

“I’m taking the bed,” Peter smiles as he jumps onto it, a large smile on his face.

Your face contorts in anger, “So chivalry is really dead.”

He laughs, “Don’t be so mad, you’re not a spider, you don’t fight crime every night and I’m sure the same kind of back pain you’re in, doesn’t even come close to mine.”

You hadn’t noticed it, but Peter got close to you, the two of you now staring each other down and Peter’s toying smirk on his face – something you didn’t miss, not at all. You could feel his breath on your face, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away.

You scoff, unable to come up with something to defend yourself, clearly flustered by what Peter had done, “Fine. I’ll take the couch tonight. But we have four nights here, Penis, so you best believe that I’ll be sleeping there tomorrow night.” You grab a pamphlet for a manicure and pedicure that took place on the second floor of the Lodge, “Now, if you don’t mind, I will be going to get pampered,”

“Won’t be missing you.”

“As if I will.”

Your mani-pedi went by way too quickly. Your toenails were now a soft pink colour, and your fingernails were now the same. You had settled for something natural. Deciding that you didn’t really want them to stick out. The Lodge was warm, so you were walking around in the salons robe that they had provided you with and a pair of slippers they had slipped on your feet to make sure that your toenails dry.

You bumped into Eddie and Mary Jane, it felt like the hundredth time today and you wanted to scream. It was five thirty in the afternoon, god forbid, if you could catch a break.

Mary Jane and Eddie smiled, wearing the same robe and slippers, but they had clearly just come from the massage portion of the lodge. You thought about getting one, but you were trying to drag all the free stuff over the five days.

“Funny seeing you here!” Mary Jane smiles, and you match her sweet. The ‘engagement’ ring around your finger, “I’ve been meaning to ask but can I see your ring?”

You could’ve let yourself fall into anger, who the fuck asks something like that? You only make your smile wider kill her with kindness, “Sure! It’s not my actual ring, we only did get engaged a few days ago and Peter wanted me to go with him to pick one… He’s a dream boy.”

Mary Jane’s smile slithered in and out of consciousness, “Are you sure we’re dating the same Peter?”

“Pretty sure,” You let your eyes circle her figure. Showing her the ‘ring’ Peter had proposed with, “Yeah, it’s one of my mom’s rings.”

Eddie’s gaze fall over it – it wasn’t a lie. It was your mom’s ring, just not her engagement ring, “Well that’s nice.” He says short, “We should have dinner tonight, catch up.”

You could tell that they were ‘catching on’ to your lie. It was hard lying to two people that had known you for a long time at some point in your life. Because they both knew details about you and Peter that you didn’t know about Peter or Peter didn’t know about you. You’d cursed yourself for calling this an engagement. But it was the first thing that came to your head, and you were honest, the moment you said it. The moment Peter looked at you, you knew that it was a fuck up on your part.

That’s why you knew the next words that came out of your mouth were your next fuck up, “We’d love to!” You turned on your heel before calling out to the pair, “We’ll eat at the restaurant downstairs.”

“Six-Thirty!” Mary Jane called.

“Can’t wait!”

You practically ran to the room, your slippers clacking onto the floor. When you made it into the elevator, the number of times you had clicked the button to your floor was a lot, but you knew it wouldn’t make the elevator go faster – not at all. But you were.

You slammed the door open to the room, sliding your key as quickly as you could. Fumbling at first, Peter jumped at how you burst into the room.

“Fuck!” Peter’s breath heaved.

You nodded carefully, “You are going to be… mad at me. Again.”

“What did you do, y/n?” Peter questioned. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and for some reason, he was still wearing his web shooters… and it was hot. You pulled your gaze away from the sin but couldn’t stop thinking about it as you met his eyes.

“We have dinner with Mary Jane and Eddie in an hour.”

Peter gets mad, his fists rolling up, his knuckles turning white, “God, y/n, don’t you know how to shut the fuck up?” His voice is raised.

“GOD! I’m sorry! I panicked.”

“That’s all you do, panic! You can’t say no? You always have to be the best? You always have to just go and talk.”

“Shut up Peter.” You sigh, “All you ever do is complain about me! All you ever do is question me! All you ever do is talk shit about me. Well, I’m over it. I am over it. You’re coming to that dinner tonight.”

“And what if I don’t want to Y/n? What if I leave this place? There’s no use in being here with you, I’m not actually your fiancée. I’m not sure anyone would ever want to be.” Peter spoke. Venom falling from his tongue.

Tears welled up in your eyes, “Fuck you.” Your voice was barely over a whisper. You grabbed your makeup bag walking into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Peter regretted yelling at you. He wasn’t going to lie. He wasn’t a heartless monster. The two of you were in this weird position, Peter didn’t know what was going on, let alone you. He couldn’t fault you for panicking. He didn’t know why he was so mad at you. You had looked so cute in your white robe and your slippers. Maybe he was a monster.

He sighed, knowing you’d spend most of your time in the bathroom, he got up and made his way to his luggage, putting on a nice dress shirt and a pants. He wanted to make you feel better. He needed to apologise.

You walked out of the bathroom, a pout on your face, your hair was done, and you wore makeup that complimented your skin. You looked beautiful and Peter regretted that he had made you upset. He regretted it so much.

You looked up at Peter, your gaze met with his, you smiled careful, nervous, taking in the fact that he had gotten ready for dinner with your ex’s, “You got dressed.”

“Yeah… I felt bad.”

“You felt bad?” You asked.

“…Yeah, I… felt bad?" He was now questioning himself.

The two of you didn’t say anything more as you grabbed a dress from your suitcase, it had long sleeves and it was plain back, had a short cut. You thought it was pretty… and so did Peter. You went to the bathroom and slipped it on, appearing outside, your zipper undone. Your arms too short to reach the back.

“Can you zip me?” You asked Peter as you came out of the bathroom.

“Y-yeah.” He muttered quickly walking over to you, his fingers running against the zipper, against your back as he pulled it up. You could hear his breath quicken. You could feel yours do the same.

Once the zipper was done, you had to cast a remark, Peter was being too nice, “Get off me, Penis.” Your voice cut and Peter only laughed.

The nickname hadn’t stung as much this time.

The two of you showed up to the restaurant, meeting Eddie and Mary Jane, hand in hand, you gripped his, “Hi!” The two groups smiled at once as you took a seat across from the couple.

After a few minutes of pouring wine and decided what you wanted to eat. Eddie and Mary Jane gave you sweet smiles.

“So,” Mary Jane took a sip of her wine, “How did the proposal happen?”

You looked over at Peter, expectant, he hadn’t said anything, so you took over, “Well it was very sweet, Peter was so romantic. There were rows of flowers and-”

“And obviously, they were your favourites, I had planned the whole thing out. Under the stars, on my knees waiting for her on the beach. I love her so much.” Peter spoke, his tone was earnest and honest. He was speaking from the truth, “I was so happy when she showed up, her favourite song played in the background, even if it is some alternative stuff, it was her. She walked in and she was like ‘Peter what’s this’ and I was like ‘I love you so much and I want to be yours forever’ and blah blah blah.”

You took a large swig of wine and so did Peter.

Eddie smiled, “Well I’m glad everything worked out for you too, you had this whole feud going on when we were in school together.”

“Kept it going whilst Peter and I were together.” Mary Jane added, “What happened? How did that change?”

You decided to take the lead on this one, squeezing Peter’s hand in confirmation, “Well, I really wanted it to be over. I was tired and I could tell Peter was too. So, we became friends and we started hanging out more. Genuinely enjoying each other’s company and I realised maybe all these feels I had been bottling up weren’t hate at all… So, I kissed him, and he kissed me back.”

Your words were truth? Mostly? You weren’t sure. Maybe you did like Peter. It didn’t take much for you to know that you actually hadn’t hated him. The feud was over, and you had no idea who had won. Maybe both parties.

“Y-Yeah… I actually liked her back in Europe.” Peter confessed, stupidly at that, “Had this whole plan to tell her and everything, but she liked you. So, I said something else.”

You quickly connected the dots… That night on the bridge Peter was going to tell you that he had a crush on you. Your mind was blown, your jaw could’ve dropped, and you wanted to cry – all of this could’ve been all over so long ago. You shook it off and actually started to enjoy dinner with Peter.

The two of you started to get along and it was not unwelcomed.

The next day, you woke up in the comfortable pillows of the couch – which was probably just as comfortable as the bed. Peter startled you as he came out of the bathroom.

“I think I’m going skiing today,” Peter announces.

You chuckle, remembering the night before, the way you looked at Peter had changed, “Okay,”

“Do you, maybe, wanna come with?”

“Depends, is this just your plan to push me off the mountain and let me fall to my death?”

“No.” Peter rolls his eyes, “I had a good time last night, and while we’re here I was thinking that maybe we could try and get along? There’s no point in arguing and we’re here for another four days.”

You nodded, quickly agreeing to his plan, “Okay.” You smiled softly.

You and Peter quickly got dressed, putting on ski pants and puffer jackets to keep you warm. You put on your snow boots and began to become warm. The only thing you were wearing underneath your jacket was your Henley, which was honestly, all you needed. You slipped a beanie onto your head, and you could feel the thick socks and gloves you wore heating up your feet and hands. You felt like an oven.

You also carried a pair of goggles. The two of you walked out of the lodge, “I don’t ski a lot, but I am quite good," You confess.

Peter smiles, “Good, I was kinda hoping we could go on the larger slope.”

“That’s all good with me!” You smile sweet. It was good, this dynamic with Peter. You knew it would most likely go down the drain once you got back to your normal life. The life where Peter was your enemy.

You and Peter sat on the ski lift as it pulled you halfway up, “The view is beautiful,” You mutter quietly, warm, and snug in your getup.

Peter looked out at the view, nodding in agreement, “You can say that again.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a moment before the loud bang and the swing of your cart scared you, grabbing onto his hand. Suddenly, the two of you were not moving. Suddenly, the two of you were now stuck who knows how far up into the air.

“Holy fuck,” You groaned after about a half hour of somewhat awkward silence, “I can’t believe we got stuck.”

“I’m sure we’ll be back down soon enough,” Peter tries to comfort you.

You roll your eyes, “You know something that annoys me about you?”

“Shoot, you’re gonna say it anyway.”

“That you’ve got this false positivity. Nobody’s that positive, Penis.” You sigh, “It’s like you put all your shit on me, right?”

Peter’s silent for a short moment, “What can I say, you bring out the worst in me… we’re supposed to be getting along.”

“Maybe that’s just not in the books for people like us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are!” Peter sighs, “We’ve been doing this for so long, it’s like a second nature to us and fine! Maybe, I do have false positivity, because I have to, y/n.” His voice drops, “Do you know the kind of toll being Spider-Man has on you?”

You laugh, “Using your Spider-Man card? Really, Peter? That’s low.”

“It’s true, y/n.” He shifts in his seat, “Every day, I see people die and I try to save as many people as I can, but sometimes that doesn’t work. So, I try to be positive, keep my spirits up, because I know if I stop, I’ll stop pulling my punches.”

You felt bad for a moment, going to speak but Peter had interrupted you.

“Arguing with you… as stupid as this sounds, fuck, it gives me an outlet. You are my outlet from all the shitty things in the world.” Peter’s eyes go soft and so do yours.

You honestly wanted to cry, “I’m your safe space?”

He huffs, “Don’t make this weird.”

“I’m not making this weird!” You laugh.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!” You laugh again, Peter deadpanning you, “It’s not stupid, Peter,” you say biting your lip, trying fighting a smile.

Peter thinks this is the cutest thing in the world, but he’s trying to act somewhat mad at you even if it’s not working. You know he’s not. Your faces have now drifted dangerously close to each other. Your smile faded as you felt Peters breath on yours, the world around you stopped. The wind wasn’t blowing, you could feel yourself lean in closer. Your heart pounding in your ears. You had no idea what was happening, and it didn't feel wrong... that’s why you kept moving closer.

Peter’s heart was thumping vigorously in his chest, feeling nothing but his heartbeat, the feeling of your eyes on his lips. He had no idea who had moved in first. Maybe it was both of you. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was you. But you were close. Close to him.

Your lips finally tangled together. Your gloves held his face as you could feel the soft of him, they were cold at first, but heat took over, Peters arm around your shoulder. The both of you lost in the moment, heads titled at the just the right angle as if they were made to fit each other. Your teeth nipped at his lower lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth, was slow, and warm. Taking a second to breathe, your lips still touching, barely apart, taking a second to breathe, just as you were about to lean in once more, the conveyor belt started to move again, starling both you and Peter away from each other, both of your lips slightly swollen.

Finally, up the top of the hill, letting go and sliding down the mountain. The kiss not being mentioned again the rest of the afternoon.

There was awkwardness.

That was the only way to describe it.

You and Peter tried to talk but every conversation was short lived. Your minds only on the one thing that had happened earlier.

Once you finally got back to the room, you decided you needed a moment to yourself. Slipping on your bathing suit, grabbing a towel and a bottle of wine – that you honestly, probably wouldn’t even touch, not because you didn’t want to, but because you had no idea what would happen if you weren’t sober.

The cool air hit you, chilling your spine, almost regretting coming out here, sliding into the water made it all worth it. You let out a small moan as you sunk deeper into the warm water, you weren’t sure whether or not you should turn the bubbles on, so you left the tub the way it was.

Your short-lived peace was soon interrupted by the one person who had caused the storm, the door to the outside open, Peter meeting your gaze.

“Shit, I didn’t realise you’d be out here.”

You smiled softly, “It’s okay… you can stay, if you want.”

Peter nodded. Your eyes gracing his skin, he was toned and the muscle in his arms shifted and flexed as he pulled into the warm tub, his moan of delight a sound that made you bite your lip and the way his collarbones appeared above the water made your heart pound, they were sharp, just like his jaw.

“Let’s play a game,”

“What kind of game?”

You shrugged, “I would suggest truth or dare, but I don’t really wanna leave the tub.”

Peter lets out a dry chuckle, “Then just pick truth.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “And what about you, Spider-Man?”

“I’ll probably be doing the same.”

Your breath hitched against air, matching the steam rose from the tub, “…So we just play for truth.”

“I’m good with that.” Peter’s voice was hoarse, deep.

“Okay.” You say, “I’ll go first… That stuff you said at dinner, about me, was it true?”

Peter nods slowly, “It was… I liked you. But when we got to that bridge, I panicked, you clearly liked Eddie and I was planning on telling you about my whole situation anyway afterI told you I liked you… I just- I just skipped a step.”

You frowned, “Pete…I liked you. On that trip to Europe. I liked you.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “You did?”

You nodded, “I- I was battling with whether or not I liked you, or Eddie. If you would’ve told me…”

“At least you know now.”

“Yeah…”

Peter clears his throat and clears the air, “My turn.” He smirks, something that you have missed, “The kiss. What did it mean?”

You felt like the wind was knocked out of you. But the question remained in the air. What did it mean?

You were so focused on hating Peter you never really looked at it. How Peter made your stomach flutter once upon a time and although you were much older than you were when he had liked you, he still made your stomach do summersaults when he’d wink at you after a mean remark, trying to look smug, trying to impress whoever was watching. How at the wedding you had felt his gaze all over your body in your dress but decided to ignore it because you loved the way it felt and how turned on you were. How you wanted to grab him by his stupid blue shirt and plant your lips on his. How you wanted to feel every inch of the boy sitting across from you and you were way too blind to even bat an eye at how you felt because you were too busy coming up with expressions that would make him say ‘fuck you’ instead of ‘fuck me’.

You knew exactly what it meant.

The water closed in on your skin, drops of it shined under the soft light of the tub. Peter watched as you pushed yourself up to move closer to him. His gaze felt like it had at the wedding, admiring the way your boobs hung off your chest. You didn’t mind, not one bit. How when you got so close to him, his eyes moved from your lips to your own.

“Everything.”

And just like that your lips were pressed onto his again, it was heated, you felt hotter than you should as you were now seated on Peter’s lap, feeling his hands run all over your body, even if they were accompanied by the hot of the water, you could feel how they imprinted onto your skin. You and Peter pulled apart for a moment, foreheads touching, breath on breath.

“I want you.” Peter admitted, his hands running up your body to cup your face.

“‘M all yours,” You murmured.

“Then let’s take this inside?”

You nodded, excited, nervous? You weren’t sure.

You removed yourself from Peter’s lap, exiting the hot tub, feeling the cool air hit your skin once more, your nipples perking from the cold. Something you were sure Peter would love. You chuckled at the thought.

Peter’s hands slide up your wet body, undoing the string to your bikini, pulling you close against his bare chest, his hands running up to squeeze your tits as your face falls into the crane of his neck, kissing his neck. Peter’s head falls back as he moans. You feel Peter’s hands run down the rest of your body, feeling his desire in his touch.

When you and Peter turn to face each other, your lips in contact, moving in sync as all you can do is feel the overwhelming sense of his body and touch, longing for the moments that his hands sit on your body to last forever. You moan against the kiss as the two of you fall on to the bed. You feel Peter’s body weight over you, and his board-shorts are in the way of what you really want. The weight of Peter on you just makes everything feel like a thousand. You can’t imagine what sex must feel like for Peter, probably better than what it feels for you, everything feels turned up for you, but everything is constantly turned up for him.

Peter’s arms were strong as they held you in place, and you felt your stomach burn with fire, you shook your head at what you were thinking but you know that just about now, Peter would do anything for you.

“Peter,” You stopped him nipping at you, your words some kind of disturbance in the fire, “Do you have that web dissolver stuff?”

Peter’s smirk was something honest, something that was different from every other time he had smirked at you. From every time this kind of smile meant something rude or mean and unwanted. It was knowing. It was wanting.

“I do…” Peter brushed your lips together, his breath full on your face, smelling like peppermint.

“Web me up, Peter.”

Peter’s gaze became darkened as his pupils dilatated, and he pressed his lips onto yours to seal the deal. You were excited and nervous. You always wonder how it must feel to be tied to a bed, but rather then… this was with Peter. Someone who had webs. Someone who was stronger than most men on earth. You were still lying down but your hands touched the bedhead, Peter discarded his boardshorts, they landed in a wet squelch on top of your bathing suit in the other room. Peter was now standing there naked, wearing his web shooters on his wrists and you thought it was one of the hottest things you had ever seen. Peter in the suit was wow… but the Peter out of it? God, you were so happy you had him all to yourself tonight, that he had you.

Peter’s webs quickly connecting with your wrists a force that made you a little scared, but Peter sensed how you were feeling and quickly came over placing his lips to yours, “You’re alright,” He coos softly, and you feel yourself flush.

You lean forward to press your lips to his, but Peter quickly moves back, “You’re not in control anymore, y/n.” His breath is hungry on your ear.

His kisses start moving down your body as he probably places hickeys everywhere he can probably think of. His lips end up between your tits and for a moment you think he’s going to mark his territory on your right boob, his breath hovering overing the nipple. But you squirm as he moves lower down your body, feeling an itch in your spine.

Peter’s mouth doesn’t press kisses anymore, his breath just hovers until he gets to your pussy, hot all over it. You feel yourself so wet, and Peter knows it too, he can smell it. He could smell your arousal all the way back in the hot tub.

Peter’s finger grazes the lips, he slides a finger near your clit, rubbing in soft, slow circles and you let out a soft moan, it was quiet and careful. It came out kinda broken, but all the same, you were giving into him. You hated that you couldn’t run your hands through his hair, but that made his touch all the more intoxicating. It only made you want him more than you ever had before.

Peter’s thumb continued to circle your clit, slowly, but surely, he begins moving his finger faster around your nub. You let out a small whimper of pleasure. Peter moves his finger away replacing it with his tongue, lapping at your pussy, tasting how wet you are, running miles around your clit as you moan sweet. Peter almost cums because of how you taste, because of how you moan. But he refrains himself from doing so. Peter’s tongue feels so good around your clit, flicking his tongue so perfectly, knowing how to make you feel good about yourself. Your back moves up slightly but not quite… that is until a finger gently slips into you, your clit pulsing as you feel Peter move his finger in and out of you pressing onto your g-spot. Your moans filling the air as Peter inhales a sharp breath because of how beautiful they sound to him, and they would make him blush if he didn’t breathe. They would make him smile. His fingers move faster as they pleasure every inch of your body, your back arching and your spine shivering because you can’t touch him. You want to touch him. You want to run your fingernails down his back, you want to run your fingers through his hair and push his tongue harder onto your clit, let him press against your body so heavily, so needily. Let him fuck the shit out of you so hard that you forget your own name. That you can’t walk the next day.

Your moans become louder as Peter fills you up, every inch of you with his large and rough hands. Putting his strength to good use. You can tell he’s holding back on his strength for the better of you. Scared of hurting you. Scared of making you hate him again. Because although this was desire, although this was the two of you lost in something you didn’t know much about. This relationship unclarified, this relationship rocky. There is a part of you that both understands that there’s this spark in both of you, this connection, this feeling and it makes you want to scream his name and only his name. You needed all of him.

You needed Peter to fuck you, and there was only one way you could possibly get that from him, get him to fill you with his cock and everything that came with it. You wanted him to cum inside you. You didn’t care right now. Your head so lost in something you’ve never known before. You’d obviously had sex before, but nobody had ever made you this hungry, nobody ever made you had a need for their touch. Nobody ever made you feel this good.

You tried to force down your next moan in order to speak, but it was no use, you were completely and utterly underneath Peters stupid spell… after a moment you gathered some composure?

“Peter.” You spoke again, breaking up what he was doing, he came up to meet your gaze, “I wanna feel you… all of you.” You said smiling somewhat bashfully, sweet, and shy.

Peter’s lips hovered over yours again, and you were only more turned on but also hating the fact that you couldn’t touch him. That you couldn’t leave marks on the back of his skin, that even though Peter had given you so many hickeys that you’d probably look like you had chicken pox the next day. You hated that you couldn’t mark yourterritory, much like Peter had marked his.

“…and unweb me.” You chuckled lightly.

Peter smiled softly, so close to your face that you feel his chuckle graze your lips, “One sec.”

Peter left the room for a moment and as you sat there webbed up you could feel yourself start to get nervous – what if you weren’t good enough? What if you didn’t feel good enough? Doubts started to flood your mind, but as Peter came back with a vile of web dissolver… the way he looked at you made you relax. Know that you were enough. Know that everything was okay. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. Like you were all he wanted. Everything he wanted to devour and eat. Everything he needed. You were like his drug, and you could see it in his eyes. The way his pupils dilate and the way he licks his lips when he sees you webbed up for him on the bed.

He lets out a dry chuckle, “You sure you want me to unweb you?” He jokes, moving closer to you, a kiss nipping at your neck.

You moan softly as he presses a kiss to this one spot on your neck, one that makes you get goosebumps all over, “I need to feel you, Peter.” You say serious.

He nods running the serum over your hands as the webs immediately dissolve, it takes a moment but then the dissolver is gone, and it feels as if it was never there in the first place.

You run your hands over Peter’s chest, finally feeling his biceps, his abs. The way they were so defined. So created by everything that made him, him. You wanted to lick them. You wanted to devour and leave hickeys on every ab that sat so perfectly on his chest. But you also needed his cock in you. Your body feeling the ache of his hands away and the way your stomach felt like pits of fire as his hands ran all over you.

“How bad do you need me?” He questions you, another kiss to that one spot on your neck.

“Bad, Peter.” You gulped carefully, “I wanna ride you and I never want to stop.”

Peter could only smile, “Fuck… you are perfect.” He groans, lying down on the bed. His cock hard, wanting you and your touch and only yours. He needed you and you needed him. You positioned yourself carefully over his dick, as you feel it enter your pulsing hole that ached for any part of Peter you could possibly get.

You let out a loud moan that shook the room as you placed your hands onto both Peter’s thighs, your fingernails digging into them as he also let out a moan. You moved carefully at first, feeling his cock on your g-spot was like a dream for both of you. Long gone in the feeling of desire as he watched your tits bounce on your chest as you try to move around his cock. Your hips grinding over every part of his lower abdomen. His cock fills you. It’s large and long and god, the way Peter holds onto you as you grind, makes you want to cum. Makes you want him to cum all up inside of you. Feeling every last bit of Peter.

Peter watches you intently, loving the sight of you riding his cock. But you’re getting tired, and Peter can sense it. Quickly, he flips you over and places his lips onto yours as you lean into it. Feeling grateful, that Peter, was once again, taking over. You could hear the crunch of the bedhead as Peter held onto it, grunting as he moved in and out of you. His strength holding him up, making his biceps pop out of his arms and his veins pump. He felt strong and so did you as you took every inch of Peter. You took him hard as he pound in your wet pussy. Your nails dug into his back, scratching him as the two of you move. Leaving red streaks all over his back. Needing more.

The only sounds that fill the room were the two of you moaning, the way the bed move underneath you and the way he hit your g-spot. The way you were everything he needed. The way he was all yours. The way you were all his. It made you both lost. The sound of your moans both getting louder and louder. Needier and needier. Kisses becoming sloppy and hungry and all the two of you knew how to do. The only thing that felt right in that moment.

It felt animalistic, it felt hot. You felt so strongly of desire and Peter was only all the more turned on by the smell of how wet you were, the smell of your pussy. How it filled his nose and every breath he took. Only focusing on you. Only focusing on how perfectly your tits bounce as he move your body. Your body felt like it was made of liquid, moving so flawless, so effortlessly. Both of you unable to differentiate where everything started and where it would end, because both of you were only tangled up in each other’s limbs, you felt nothing but Peter. His skin underneath the nails. His desire filling your mouth as your tongues tangle themselves in each other just like your bodies.

You couldn’t feel yourself, you felt hungry, you felt needed. You weren’t in any state of mind to do anything but this. Peter’s cock felt like it was burning your pussy. The way he gripped the headboard said it all. The way he wasn’t letting himself go and this was only not even a quarter of how good he could make you feel. He was a force of nature.

You could feel yourself in a desperate need to cum. Desperate for Peter to cum inside you and both of you were getting closer to the edge and you both knew it. You could feel the burning pit of familiar fire burning in your stomach. Although this was not desire, this was a burning pit of a knot that needs you to feel some sort of release. That needs you to let go of everything that has built up inside of you.

“Peter, I’m gonna cum.”

It almost never happened. A rare occurrence. Something so slim that both of you would have to work toward separately, “Me too.”

“Please cum inside me, Peter,” You moaned wanting him all.

The two of you were reaching your point at the same time. Something so unrealistic – much like this pair of people sleeping together was happening. You could feel Peter’s cock twitch in your hole, still pumping you out as you grappled onto Peter’s back for dear life, feeling the pleasure and release all through you, all over Peter’s cock. You could feel him twitch in you once more, a signal that he had just cum all inside you. Your grunts and moans calmed down as Peter slowed down, pumping you still, riding each of you off of the high. Your juices mixed together. Feeling nothing but each other.

Peter’s body falls beside yours as the two of you try and heave breaths that sit in your throat.

“Holy shit.” You murmur against the thick air that quickly disperses. Leaving you and Peter in nothing but silence.

You turn to him, “I don’t want this to be like a one-time thing, Peter… It meant something.”

“I know, that’s why, we’re gonna get you cleaned up and tomorrow, I’m going to spend the day with you.” Peter kisses your collarbone, “…and then take you out for dinner. A proper date. Something that we never got to do. A relationship that we never got to have.”

You smile pressing a peck to Peter’s soft lips. Both of your lips swollen and your clit still pulsing from the aftershock of everything that had just happened between the two of you.

“I’d like that.”

hi tysm for reading! my requests are open! so, if you'd like to request something from me click HERE <3

if you were reading for andrew or tobey today, i only write for tom, sorry guys <33 !! if you'd like to request a NEUTRAL Peter fic i'd be happy to do that :)

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker #andrew garfield x reader #tobey maguire x reader #x reader #peter parker smut #tom holland smut #andrew gafield smut

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Note

What if a security guard wouldn’t let you back in the arena if you went out to get something. And they didn’t believe that you were harrys gf and just thought you were a crazy fan

oooh it’s been done before but here’s my version!! ;

You were running late.

It was already 7pm and you were only getting out of your car in the car park. Harry was due to be on stage in an hour and you hadn’t even seen him yet. The traffic around Dallas today has been awful. Chocker block. You’d been with Harry all day, up until 3 hours ago when he had to leave the hotel to come to the stadium for rehearsals. Normally you’d go with him, but you were so tired that you wanted a little nap before coming. The problem here was you overslept.

There were no Ubers available and a taxi would be far too expensive at this time, so you drive in Harrys car instead. You’d been following Harry on tour in his car, so when you get to different destinations you can go out on ball day trips if you want to without the obscenity of a huge tour bus or paying for Ubers everywhere. It was the main reason you were so tired though, travelling across country and into different time zones. It would be so much easier if this was the UK.

You grabbed your purse and your jacket, locking the car as you got out and started running for the backstage entrance. It was easy to make it there and you noticed security guards already standing there.

“Hi!” You smiled, slightly short of breathe. You were about to move past them when one of them shoved your shoulder back, making you stumble back unbalanced. “Wha—”

“ID and backstage pass to get through here.” One of them said, looking you up and down as if you were nothing.

If anything, you were quite shocked on how they just treated and continued to treat you. Normally, Harry would show a picture of you to these backstage security guards to make sure you’d be able to get in no problem, but it seemed like today Harry might’ve forgotten to show that photo. This was going to be a problem for you, because you’d forgotten to bring your backstage pass.

“I normally just go through? I’m Harry’s girlfriend.” You tried talking your way around the situation, not appreciating behind held up so close to show-time.

“Oh you’re Harry’s girlfriend? You must be the 7th one we’ve met tonight.” The security guy laughed and so did his friend, making your blood boil with how annoying they were being. Harry would be so pissed if he heard the way they were treating you.

“No but I actually am.”

“Then, ID and backstage passes.” One of then held out his hand whilst the other crossed his arms over his chest to make him look intimidating. Dickheads.

“I have ID just not the backstage passes.” You answered honestly, holding out your ID for them to check. They collected it and asked you questions on it, you answering them all perfectly.

“Well you definitely know you, but you have no proof you’re supposed to be where you claim to be.” They handed you back your ID and you huffed in stress.

“Well what can I show you? Photos of me and Harry together? Text messages?” You waved your arms around, getting really pissed off that this was actually happening. You’d probably miss Jenny’s whole set because of this and then 15 minutes before show-time Harry gets transported under the stage. So you only really would have half and hour with him, and that’s just not enough time. You wanted a safe and warm hug off him. You wanted a kiss. You just wanted him.

“Everyone knows they can be photoshopped.” One of the guys scoffs at your notion.

“Listen. You either show us your backstage pass or we’ll escort you off site.” The other one says a lot more firmer this time. It made you quite anxious for what you’d do if they did that - or maybe when they did that.

“Well I don’t have the backstage passes.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at the way this was going to end.

“Then let’s go.” One of them pointed to where you came from and to the car park, stepping forwards as he did so.

“I’m not leaving until you let me through those doors. My boyfriend is waiting for me.” You answered, taking a step back in stress of what they might do.

“Harry ain’t your boyfriend. Now let’s go!” They stepped forwards again and reached for you.

You swung your bag at one of them, hitting him in his side and he grunted because of the impact of your water bottle with his chest. The other one grabbed your arm and you couldn’t shake him, since you were not trained in any way for situations like this at all. His fingers dig into your skin and it made you scream out a cry, trying to kick him in any way to escape. The other one recovered ever ordered the guy holding you to escort you away whilst he stayed and guarded the door. The one holding you tugged your arms behind your body and held them tight there, it really fucking hurting. He didn’t care though and continued to walk you, asking you where your car was so he could get you out of here.

Once you reached your car he let you go and you wrapped your arms around you as he walked away again, not verbally saying anything but his eyes saying enough. Stay away. You shakily got your keys out of your bags and unlocked your door, climbing in and just sitting there. You could feel your hands really shaky and achy. Looking down with tear clouded eyes, you saw the red marks over your arms and slight bruising already. Your arms and shoulders hurt from being bent in an uncomfortable position.

You cared less about the pain though and how much of a disappointment of a girlfriend you were going to be to Harry. He was going to think either the worst for you or the worst of you. You reached in your bag on your lap for your phone, throwing your bag on the seat next to you afterwards. You wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your t-shirt and unlocked your phone to text messages, sending Harry a quick text.

To Harry: Are you free to call? x

No response. You sat there for a few minutes in silence, still shook up and teary. That had been a really awful situation to be in and you hated that you were nowhere near Harry to fix it. Your phone vibrated 3 minutes later, finding a text message from Harry. You sighed and felt safe when you saw his icon light up your notifications, knowing he was in contact with you.

From Harry: Of course, you okay? xx

You didn’t open your phone because you didn’t know how to respond. How do you tell him you’re not okay, only 20 minutes before he’s meant to be ready to go on stage? You didn’t want to worry him, but you also didn’t want him thinking you were a terrible girlfriend either.

Another vibration.

From Harry: Lovie? xx

Your eyes watered at that simple word, meaning so much more to you than five letters. It made you feel so much comfort, you only wished you could get that hug and a kiss now.

Again.

From Harry: Love, you’re worrying me now.

From Harry: Let me face-time you, hang on.

His icon lit up the screen; Incoming…

You shakily accepted, wiping your eyes quickly before. When he answered you could tell he was still in his dressing room, sat on the sofa that you wish you were also sat on with him. He looked so beautiful. His hair was perfectly styled and he was wearing a pearl coloured silk shirt and you knew he was wearing white silk pants to co-ordinate. You thought he looked ethereal. A glowing beacon of hope and beauty.

He didn’t say anything to you at first and you nothing to him. He just looked at you and instantly knew something bad was up. He kept eye contact with you and it was as if he was having a telepathic conversation with you, understanding that you needed him and just him.

“Hey, Mitch man?” Harry asked, turning his head to somewhere else in the room. “Could y’just give me a minute. Please.”

“Sure, sure.” Mitch answered and all you could hear was the sound of shuffling and the door shut. As soon as he was gone you started crying all over again. You cupped your hand over your eyes and your body shook as you just cried. Harrys heart broke that you were alone and he couldn’t hug you close to his chest.

“Y/N, baby. Look at me.” He asked urgently and you just shook your head, embarrassed that this was happening to you. “You’ll be alright lovie, I promise. Just look at me, beautiful.” You moved your hand away from your face and wiped your eyes and nose to try and make you look slightly better - not that it helped. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You smiled. He smiled.

“I-i’m so-rry H.” You whispered, sniffling in between words because of how shaky you felt.

“Hey, no. None of that. It’ll be okay.” He reassured you, keeping eye contact with you to try and decipher what was wrong. “Where are you, lovie? You’re in the car, yeah?” Harry asked, recognising your surroundings but you could get anywhere. You could have been in an accident for all he knew, but he was remaining calm so he didn’t send you into a panic.

“Yeah. In the stadium car park.” You saw Harrys eyes momentarily light up at that, before he remembered that you weren’t okay.

“Okay. Tell me why you’re upset, love. Help me understand.” He sounded urgent, just wanting to know so he could help you out. He wanted you to be okay. He wanted you with him.

“The security guards wouldn’t let me in, backstage I mean. I didn’t have my backstage pass. But..” You choked on a sob and Harry told you to just breathe. You were okay. “One of them g-grabbed me and escorted m-me of sight.”

“Baby, are you hurt? Is that why you’re upset?” Harry asked, standing up now in panic. His face looked angry, but you could tell he was trying his best to be a comfort for you. “Y/N?”

“Y-yes. Yes Harry, yes.” You voice wobbled out and you let out an exasperated sob. “I’m s-sor—”

“No don’t you dare. Don’t apologise for this. Not ever. You understand me?” He made very clear he wasn’t messing around.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Alright. Now, you gotta be strong for me okay?” He asked, before asking, still checking that you were okay. He knew you would be though, because you were his bravest girl ever - stronger than you knew.

“Okay.”

“You’re going to make your way back to the backstage entrance, alright? I am going to be there, before you get there. Those security guards won’t be there I promise. You’ll be okay. Can you do that for me?” He asked, moving around the room and then out of the door. He was walking down the corridors, ignoring the people shouting his name. He was only focused on you.

“Yes. Okay.” You nodded, wiping under your nose again.

“I love you.” He kissed the camera of his phone, looking like he was kissing you instead.

You returned the gesture, kissing him virtually back. “I love you.”

He told you that it’d be alright and then ended the call, explaining how you didn’t need to hear him get angry when he found these security guards. They would be fired even if they weren’t on his tour crew, he’d make sure of it. You made your way back to the backstage entrance again, slowing down before you rounded the corner. Taking a deep breathe you walked around and were met with exactly what Harry promised; him.

You smiled and broke out into a run to get to him, your bag weighing on your shoulder. Once you reached him your bag was thrown on the floor in front of him and you jumped into his arms. He lifted you up to sit you around his waist, keeping his arms tight around your waist and squeezing the biggest hug out of you. Your arms tightened around your boyfriends neck and you buried your face into his neck, and god he smelt like everything homely and sweet. He felt just like home.

“See, you’re alright now lovie.” He assured you, kissing your cheek that wasn’t quite buried into his neck.

“Th-ank you.” You muttered, kissing his neck in appreciation which made him hum in delight. He tasted so hot and lush. He was insatiable. You then felt him start kissing your arms, where the harsh red and purple marks were.

“Sorry y’had to go through this.” He kept kissing your arms, until you moved your head up and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“If I can’t say sorry, then neither can you.” You shook your head, kissing his nose softly. You watched his eyes flutter close and felt so special that only you could do that to him.

“You’re so amazing Y/N. Truly.”

“You’re pretty special too, my love.”

He didn’t need to hear anything else from you, those words were enough, so he pressed his lips to yours softly, filling you with the love you’d been waiting to feel all day. You smiled into the kiss and he just felt so amazing. He was so soft and gentle with you - as smooth as the silk that dressed his body. He was so pretty to watch melt away under your spell and delicious tasting. Strawberries, was that?

He was everywhere. He was everything. He always would be.

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

Text

Returning The Favour - Bucky Barnes x F! Reader part 2 (smut)

Summary: After one hell of a day, you decide to help Bucky relax, and to repay the favour from a few nights ago.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut ahead! Oral/blowjob – M receiving, hand job – m receiving, swearing/cursing, p in v sex (unprotected) – doggy style, face sitting, cowgirl, just pure filth, tbh.

Smut under the cut!!

Word count: 4.5k+

A/n: A little bit of body positivity added in here too. You are all beautiful, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise

A/N: This is part 2 of A Helping Hand, but as there isn’t much of a plot (aside from the smut. I mean, c’mon), it can also be read as a standalone!! It touches briefly on the plot of FATWS, but nothing really detailed.

Permanet Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood

Part 1

A few weeks had passed by since that night Bucky had devoured you, tearing your soul to pieces and burning through you like wildfire.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about it… and hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

His hands on your body, searing lines into your skin, one hot and one cold.

The drag of his tongue inside your walls, letting you ride his face whilst the world crashed down through you.

His hand, that damned vibranium hand fucking you into oblivion.

God, you needed him. You needed more of him, all of him. You wanted him to tear you apart again and knit you back together with his lips and his tongue.

You wanted him to feel the same release you had the same earth-shattering pleasure.

You’d tried to calm the fire by using your own fingers and toys, but no matter how much you replayed that night in your head – in perfect clarity – it just wasn’t the same anymore.

Your toys, which you had spent a hell of a lot of money on… just didn’t do it. They weren’t enough.

They weren’t… him.

You couldn’t concentrate on your work, earning you more disapproval from Fury and he even asked you what the hell was going on and would you mind keeping your thoughts on the job, not on whatever was making you zone into space for twenty minutes straight with that look on your face.

Luckily, you had managed to escape anymore of Nick’s wrath, by tagging along with Bucky as he went to help Sam, who was engaged in trying to take down a group of rebels called the Flag Smashers.

You’d arrived to help him and the three of you set about doing what you could, also whilst trying to avoid John Walker, who had been rebranded as the new Captain America.

Touchy subject. Best not to go there.

Anyway, back on the case of the Flag Smashers. They were being supplied with Super soldier serum from someone called the Power Broker, and the boys were at a loose end as to how to learn more.

Well of course, there was one person who was the most knowledgeable about the serum.

Helmut Zemo, a Sokovian villain who looked like he’d walk straight out of a film about British spies, fast cars and imaginative villains.

You knew Bucky’s past with him, of course.

You had fought alongside the others when Zemo triggered Bucky into becoming the Winter Soldier again.

So, you had to admit you were surprised when you learned that Bucky himsef had ‘hypothetically’ given Zemo the way out of his German prison.

Plans had been made, which is how tonight, you’d found yourself in Madripoor, each of you posing as a different persona.

Sam was to be the ‘Smiling Tiger.”

You were Zemo’s… acquaintance. His “Little Bird” he’d called you – much to Bucky’s frustration. At first, you thought it was simply because Zemo was… well, he was a ‘bad guy’.

But as the night wore on, you noticed the looks Bucky shot the pair of you, his jaw clenching every single time Zemo’s hand brushed your waist, or he pressed his nose to your hair.

The Baron didn’t touch you in any way you hadn’t already discussed, and you were comfortable but… the icy glint in Bucky’s eye, the tightening of his mouth when you asked him what was wrong, and he stayed silent…

Something more was going on. More than just the role he was required to play.

Bucky was be the Winter Soldier again. The very man he tried so desperately to escape from, the man who’s actions he was still trying to make amends for.

You’d had to watch him play the Soldier all night, watch the tension build and build in the clenched muscle of his jaw, in the hard line of his shoulders and the tight prowl in his walk.

Which was why, after escaping a fight and getting a little banged up yourself, you were looking into the mirror in your hotel room, adjusting the straps of the lingerie set you had slipped into.

Okay, so maybe it was cliché.

But Bucky had had one hell of a night. You could practically feel the tension rolling off of him from his hotel room opposite your own.

You still had a favour to repay him, so why not go all out? He deserved it.

Besides, you had spent a long time working up the confidence to look into the mirror and be happy and proud of what you saw, instead of feeling the need to change.

You were proud of yourself and needed no-one else’s approval.

But it didn’t mean it wasn’t rewarding to hear.

Especially from a man with a wicked jawline and killer baby-blues.

With one final shake of your hair, you pulled on your silky robe, padding to the door of your hotel room and you slipped into the cool hallway. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you moved across the plush carpet, knocking on Bucky’s door.

Thank the lords, saints, old-gods and the new that Zemo was a Baron. This hotel was expensive, luxurious and did not have that funky smell that most hotels seemed to have.

The rooms were lavish and richly decorated, the bathroom dripping with taste and money and the bed… well. The bed was certainly big enough for what you had in mind tonight.

You were thoroughly determined to wreck the neatly folded covers.

A few moments later, you heard footsteps and then the door opened. Those eyes greeted you, though they were deeper, like the colour of the sea in a storm.

Bucky tilted his head, one hand braced on the door to open it, frowning slightly when he saw you. It was late after all. “Is everything alright, doll?” He peered down the hallway, like he was looking for threats.

You shook your head lightly, “Nothing’s wrong, Bucky…” Lifting your eyes to his through your lashes, you moved your hands to the front of your robe, “I just thought I’d return the favour. And help you relax…”

At your honeyed tone, at the movement in your hands, Bucky went rigid. Less in a tense way, more in anticipation. His eyes zeroed in on your hands, watching as you undid the sash and let the silk robe fall open, baring your body to him.

Clad in gorgeous lace and delicate fabric of your favourite colour, the lingerie clung to the shape of your body, flaunting it and accentuating every beautiful line.

Oh, it had so been worth the small fortune it cost.

You were glad you had purchased more.

The door creaked, wood protesting as his vibranium arm gripped it. Bucky’s pupils dilated, black blotting out the blue as he raked his eyes over every inch of you. It wasn’t creepy or possessive. It was… worshipping. Awestruck.

You had him in the palm of your already.

Soon, it would be physically.

“Are you going to let me in, Buck? There’s so many ways I could help you relax…” You let the robe slip off of your shoulders, leaving you incredibly bare in the middle of the very open hallway, in the very expensive, reputable hotel.

But you didn’t care.

Not with the way his Arctic eyes had deepened to the colour of cobalt, searing into you with the same fire that he had consumed with the other night.

Not as he stood back, letting you in and following every single movement you made, the sway of your hips, the feline smile gracing your lips as you sashayed past him. He was enraptured by you, rendered helpless by the mere sight of you.

You saw his hands clench just before he turned to shut the door, like he was stopping himself from pulling you into his body and shredding the scraps of lace and velvet that were a barrier to your gorgeous skin and curves.

The door snicked shut softly, shutting you both off from the rest of the world.

You turned to face Bucky, extending your hand to him, “Come here.” You kept that honey rich tone, but you had no need to raise your voice, because Bucky had moved before the words even left your mouth.

He slid his left hand into yours, the vibranium cool against the warmth of your skin. It was welcome, for you were burning an inferno inside that you were hiding very, very well. In fact, you were already wet, since the moment you slipped that lingerie on and saw your refection in the mirror.

You pressed your lips to the back of Bucky’s hand, saying with movement what you knew he wouldn’t believe in words.

That it was beautiful, strong… an extension of the graceful, deadly power that he had honed. You were never, ever afraid of it. Not even tonight, when he was playing the Soldier. Not even when he was the Soldier.

Lifting your eyes to his, you let your tongue dart out, tracing along the golden grooves in the plates of dark vibranium.

Fuck, the mere taste of the cool metal brought you back to that night.

You moaned a little in the back of your throat, appreciatively and flattened your tongue over his knuckles, bringing his fingers into your mouth and sucking on them delicately, just as you had before. Except this time, it was you in charge.

Bucky twitched, in every sense of the word. The plates of his arm clicked just faintly, like he was restraining himself even as a soft growl rumbled in the base of his chest. The sight of you sucking on his fingers again only made his jeans even more uncomfortable and he longed to feel your hot wet tongue on his skin. Every single inch of his skin.

His own hand wasn’t enough anymore, especially not after that night. It had been near painful for him when he left, and he’d barely made it back to his own room before his hand was jamming into his boxers and he fucked his own palm until he was crying your name through gritted teeth.

Never before had he felt such an urge to have feeling in his left hand, to feel your walls clench around him as you fell apart above him.

It was like you could read his mind.

You slipped off of his fingers with a small pop, a wicked gleam in your eyes as you dropped your hands to his belt buckle. Seconds later, you were undoing the zipper to his jeans, wasting no time in looping your fingers into both the waistband of his jeans, and the band of his boxers.

You pulled them slowly down, lower and lower past his hips until his heavy swollen cock sprung free.

Holy fucking shit.

He was huge.

Thick and smooth, the head already swollen and leaking.

You wanted to taste him.

You wanted him down your throat and buried inside you every single way until you could feel nothing but him, think of nothing but him.

Forcing back your impatience, you slowly lowered, pulling his jeans down until they reached his ankles, and you were on your knees before him.

Looking up through your eyelashes, you saw his head tilted down to watch you, is chin touching his chest. Those ridiculous eyes were fiercely burning, and his full, plush lips had parted in an effort to suck in more air.

Oh, you were going to wreck him.

You rose up a little higher, pressing your lips to the patch of neatly trimmed curls before following a trail lower, and then dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock, over that swollen vein that made you positively feral.

Bucky’s hands flew into your hair, a barely restrained groan rising from his chest and he muttered, “Shit – shit.”

Barely able to restrain the grin, you darted your tongue into the tiny slit, gathering that little bead of precum and then you took him into your mouth, inch by inch.

Fucking hell.

He was heavy, hot in your mouth and the velvety feel of his skin against your tongue and teeth was something you might just have died to feel again.

You kept him still for a second, really wanting to draw this out for him – and because the weight of him against your jaw was sending floods of pleasure between your thighs and you knew the expensive lace of your underwear was already drenched.

Bucky twitched, both inside your mouth and out and he tugged a little on your hair, “Baby, you gotta move – please, move.”

Had this been a normal game you were playing; you might have let him suffer a little longer. But this was about relaxing him, about making him feel better so you granted him his wish and began to bob your head up and down.

His soft moans were a symphony to your ears, a song you quickly learned the rhythm of as you moved faster, hollowing your cheeks now and then so he felt the drag of your wet, warm cheeks.

His moans turned into curses when you reached up to toy with his balls, massaging them just slightly as you dragged your lower teeth against the vein.

He jerked forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat suddenly, “Fuck, sorry baby, I didn’t mean to-“

His apologies were almost stammered, but you swiftly cut him off with a sinful moan.

The mere feel of him, the pressure of him pushing against your throat nearly made you explode there and then.

Your eyes rolled back slightly, hips rocking against nothing by instinct and fingers digging into his thighs.

Bucky swore softly under his breath, his voice nothing more than a broken whisper, “You – you liked that?”

Nodding around him, you pulled all the way off briefly, “Yes.” You gasped the word, pumping him with your hand a few times before taking him in your mouth again, sucking him with all the force of someone eating a five-star meal.

You devoured him, setting a relentless pattern of kitten licks, hollowing your cheeks and licking that throbbing vein. You let him brush the back of your throat a few times, never gagging, only crying out with pleasure at the press of him.

And Bucky’s moans… God, you could forgo music for the rest of your life and listen only to those noises his made.

Wanting more, more of those delicious moans and growls from him, you relaxed the muscles in your throat, pushing him down all the way until your nose was once again brushing his curls.

It was hard to distinguish your moan from his, the way his hands yanked hard in your hair, your fingers digging into his ass cheeks to force him deeper down your throat. You took a deep breath in through your nose, moaning at the heady scent of him as it pervaded your sense.

More, - you wanted to take him deeper and deeper until you couldn’t speak tomorrow without feeling him there.

You slid a hand down, grasping his balls once again and you palmed them, massaging and tugging them as you shook your head lightly against him, making him rock against your windpipe.

“Fuck!” Bucky’s head tilted back, his rough moan bouncing off the elaborately decorated walls and his legs trembled, signalling how close he was, how thoroughly you were hauling him toward that edge.

You felt his balls tighten in your hand, felt how close he was so you squeezed them harder and at the same time, swallowed around the thick length of him.

A broken version of your name echoed above your, both of his hands tightening in your hair so fiercely, you feared he might snap a bone. “Shit, shit-” His hips jerked forward and then he shattered apart, exploding in hot ropes down your throat.

You heard him mutter an apology, but you didn’t care, you couldn’t care because he tasted divine.

You drew back slowly, pumping him a few times with your free hand until he was gasping in a ragged breath, his legs threatening to give way, so with a gentle judge, you pushed him back on the bed.

He plopped down weakly, watching with wide eyes as you lifted your head, wiping the corner of your mouth with a feline grin. “Sweetheart, that was-“

A finger to his lips cut him off, “Oh, no no. I’m not done with you yet, Buck.” You quickly rid him of his shirt, revealing the broad plane of his shoulders and chest and then you urged him up the bed. As he lay back, you climbed on top of him, rising up on your knees. “I believe you made me come… three times was it?”

And that was when James Buchanan Barnes whimpered. A sound of pure carnal need and anticipation.

You grinned at him, reaching behind your chest to unclasp the delicate bra, before sliding it from your shoulders and throwing it to the side of the room. “I intend to repay the favour, and then some, Soldier.” You reached down for both his hands, placing them on your breasts. One warm, one icy cold.

Both your moans echoed in tandem, especially when he tightened his hands, squeezing and pulling at the soft flesh. “So beautiful…” He mumbled the words lowly, his voice a rough rasp and his ministrations caused you to arch your back further into his touch, allowing yourself a moment of pleasure.

But not for too long, because you soaked through the lace of your underwear, and you might well have been dripping down your thigh at this point. Dropping a hand, you moved your underwear to the side, before gliding your fingers through your glistening folds.

Yep, you were right.

“All of this is for you, Bucky. Because of how good you tasted in my mouth.” You moaned delicately, eyelashes fluttering as you circled your clit a few times, “How thick you were in my throat.” You gathered some of your wetness on your fingertips, before pressing them to Bucky’s lips, “See...”

He wasted no time in drawing your fingers into his mouth, dragging his teeth along the skin and cleaning every single millimetre. He seemed determined to pay you back, to try and make you feel some of the desperation he had felt.

You let it go, only because the combination of his hands pulling at your nipples and his hot tongue sliding between your fingers. You lowered down, resting over his already hardened length before dragging up and down it a few times, coating him in your slick. Low moans came from your throat, your eyes fluttering closed as you rocked yourself against him, waiting for him to recover for round two.

He soon groaned around your fingers, earning you a muffled, “Baby.” In an impatient tone as he twitched underneath you, hard and throbbing again.

Fine, you could give in.

You grasped his cock, before rising up and then lowering back down, taking him in.

Every single damn inch of him.

The stretch of your walls was painfully delicious, making you throw your head back and cry out softly, a low keen until you were seated on his thighs again. He was buried to the hilt inside of you and you could feel him everywhere. In your belly, in your toes, in your spine even.

Bucky’s back arched off of the bed, teeth clamping down on your fingers and his hands tightening on your breasts, before falling to your thighs where his fingertips dug into the soft flesh, “Fucking hell.” He gasped in a breath, lowering his head, “Look at me.”

The words were choked as you dropped your chin, meeting his eyes and the look int hem nearly floored you.

Near midnight blue with desire and lust, but they glinted like the night sky, full of admiration and… adoration of you. Complete and utter adoration.

Shit.

You stayed where you were for a second, speechless from the look of unbarred emotion on his face as the pair of you adjusted. Bucky soon swallowed, croaking again, “Move, darlin’ – please, move.”

Well, you didn’t need telling twice.

You rose up off him a few inches, before dropping back down with enough force to sear your spine in half. You quickly set an earth-shattering pace, rising up before sinking back down, his hips rising to meet you and push that little bit further inside.

Once again, the room filled with the scent of sex, the symphony of your bodies gliding with each other, mixed with Bucky’s rough moans and mutterings and your keening cries.

His hands grasped your hips, tight enough to bruise even with his right hand, but you didn’t care. You wanted to be marked, you wanted to feel him tomorrow.

And you wanted to mark him too.

You dropped down over his body, bringing him for a messy, deep kiss that was all stroking tongues and teeth.

He groaned into your mouth when you rotated your hips around him, this new angle causing your clit to drag against his firm muscles and rough curls.

The sensation was absolutely mind-blowing, and you dragged your mouth from his to bite at his jaw and neck, swearing against his hot skin, “Fucking hell, Bucky, you feel so good. You have no idea how good you feel – filling me up. So big-” The words were stumbly, broken sentences but you knew he understood them because he matched them.

Telling you how tight you were, how deep you were taking him. How good you looked fucking yourself and taking what you deserved – it was all yours.

You soon felt the pressure build in your lower back and belly, at the same time Bucky’s hips were snapping up into yours with more urgency. Quickly, you dragged yourself back to sit up, and began to ride him with wild abandon. His left hand came up to yours, giving you an anchor as you fucked him relentlessly, making the pair of you cry out with wordless groans of ecstasy.

To Bucky, you looked like – no, you were a goddess. Your body moving with carnal grace, head thrown back and those gorgeous moans and curses falling from your parted lips.

To him… there would never be a more beautiful sight.

Just as you began to grind your hips in circles with each downward motion, words started to spill from those plush lips, like he wasn’t in control, “You have no idea how much I wanted to tear Zemo apart tonight. His hands all over you – they shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t be touched like that.”

His lips parted wider for a moment, his hips thrusting up to meet your circular motions and it made the head of his cock thud against that spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves through your spine.

Your whimpering plea spurred him on, kept him hitting that spot with hard pressure that threatened to tear you to pieces, “You’re a goddess - Not a fucking piece of arm candy. The sight of him touching you-” He snarled, pulling you down hard on his dick for a second, taking the opportunity to rotate his own hips this time, “That should be me. Worshipping you. Not him.”

His rough words and the sheer intensity of his thrusted hurtled you closer and closer to that edge, the admissions sending just as much pleasure through you as his hard length.

That should be me.

Did he mean…?

You looked down through hazed eyes, like you were seeing all of this with a fresh gaze.

Bucky was already a mess beneath you, his head tilted back, and the line of his throat held taught. His deep curls with a mess, ruffled up over his forehead and the pillows.

Beautiful.

Bucky’s hips were starting to lose rhythm as he jerked up into you, but he never failed to repeatedly hit that spot, again and again.

You both chased down your orgasms, and with one final grind of your hips, one final sharp jerk of his own, you fell to pieces in tandem.

Bucky’s back arched, freezing as he spurted his hot load up inside you, at the same time your walls clenched around him, milking him for everything he had as your combined wetness slipped down his balls, making a mess of his skin – and the bed.

Like either of you could care.

Time lost all meaning yet again as you came down from your high, and later, you’d remember only by the places your bodies occupied.

Bucky hauled you up, finished with the lack of control and he took you against the floor to ceiling windows, your breasts pressed to the cool glass, the city twinkling below you as Bucky fucked you deep from behind, that vibranium hand against fitted snug around your throat.

Then on the plush rug in front of the fireplace, his dick sliding down your throat again as his tongue dragged between your folds, your knees braced either side of his head as you held onto his thighs.

When you retired to the sunken tub to wash up, you found yourself seated on Bucky’s lap, riding him once more with the hot, jasmine scented water splashing over the ornate tiles, your combined moans mingling with the steamy air.

The whole time, Bucky’s words played over and over in your head, echoing in the tiny space of your mind that wasn’t sex-addled.

He wanted to be the one to walk into a club with you on his arm. He wanted everyone in the room to know he worshipped the very ground you walked on, the air that you breathed.

It wasn’t like the feelings weren’t reciprocated either.

It had been the blue-eyed soldier in the forefront of your mind for months and months now, perhaps even far before that.

And it wasn’t until you were back on the bed, covers strewn on the floor that things truly shifted.

Bucky’s hands were gripping your thighs, pulling you down to fuck his face and tongue whilst you gripped onto the headboard, his groans of delight muffled against your wet heat.

The feeling was… other-worldly.

Your sexual partners of the past had gone down on you, sure. You’d even been in this exact position once, but it was nothing compared to Bucky.

No one worked you over with the same acute knowledge of what you liked, before you even knew it yourself.

His nose nudged against your clit, providing the perfect pressure whilst he spearheaded his tongue deep within you. Every time he did, he pulled you lower, shaking his head from side to side so that his stubble scratched your sensitive inner thighs and your swollen folds.

Words were beyond you, and all you could do was make incoherent moans and keens, sure the people in the rooms surrounding yours could hear your screams, but you didn’t care.

Especially when Bucky dragged his teeth over your clit, ever so lightly biting it and causing you to hurtle into the outer atmosphere and forget everything.

You collapsed, losing the tension in your legs and only Bucky’s hands shooting up to your ribs stopped you from smashing your forehead on the wall.

Light exploded across your vision, your blood roaring in your ears and you couldn’t move, your body was completely boneless. You were truly spent, muscles twitching with aftershocks and you only just noticed Bucky coaxing you to lay down next to him.

You faded in and out of a warm haze, registering a warm cloth gliding between your legs, over your flushed skin.

“Go on a date with me.”

The soft words underlined with that oh-so familiar rasp brought you rushing back to the present. “You... what?”

“Go on a date with me.”

You snapped your eyes open, only to be met with the Arctic ocean, almost glowing from within with sated desire.

Curling your lips up into a smile, you gently dragged Bucky’s head down to yours, pressing your lips to his equally swollen ones, “Okay.”

#well that happened #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #tfatws fan fic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader smut

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tommyspeakycap · 4 years ago

Note

HF for how Tommy feels on his daughters wedding day please

first half is headcanons and the second half is a lil blurb!

tommy is quite literally distraught

like that’s no exaggeration he is literally heart broken

his baby, his whole world was getting married

for the past 20 years, you had been tommy shelby’s whole world

you were born when tommy was only 17

not even an adult yet himself

so it felt as though you had been with him most of his life

it had kind of just been you and him, in a sense

of course there was the rest of the clan too, and you were incredibly close to them as well

but your mother died in childbirth, so tommy was both mum and dad

he had to do it all alone in that sense

everyone tells him he should be so proud of how he raised you

because you’re sweet and kind

and you have that humour that the war took from tommy

you made people laugh like he had

and you were really the only person that could make him laugh

you were strong, like your mother tommy had always said

but you credit everything you are to him

he was the first man to love you, and teach you how you should be loved

he also taught you how you should be treated, generally a lot better than the average father would

tommy made sure that his daughter would be treated like a queen

you were his princess

so whomever you were to marry, you would be treated as their queen

he made absolutely sure of that

and that marrying was your choice

not something you were coerced into for money or business, but something you wanted

and it was

with a man who you had loved since 16

tommy liked him as much as he could like the man that was going to be taking his baby girls hand and changing her name

the thought of you not being (y/n) shelby, tommy shelby’s little princess, was earth shattering to him

although you had insisted you were keeping it in the middle

alas, tommy knew you were so loved by that man

be that as it may, all parties knew if he stepped a foot out of line or raised a finger in anything but gentility and love

then he would be struck down in a timely and violent fashion by tommy himself

tommy definitely cries that day too

“Tommy?” Grace’s voice immediately draws his attention towards her and away from his thoughts about the impending fact his little girl was getting married in half an hour. His eyes are that kind of wet that shows he’s fighting tears, that he won’t dare let them fall. Grace can see the lump he tries to swallow in his throat and a piece of her heart breaks for him as she sits down on the bench next to him outside the hall where the ceremony would take place. You were inside getting the dress on and getting your hair done with Polly and Ada and previously Grace before she had come out to see if her husband was okay.

He was not.

“Oh Tommy,” Her voice is so soft and caring as she wraps her arm around him and rubs his shoulder, hugging him to her slightly. “She looks so beautiful Tom, and god she’s so happy; can’t stop smiling at all. She still has that smile you talk about, the innocent one and it looks just like yours does sometimes.” Tommy clenches his jaw tightly, still refusing to let those tears go. She sees him clamp down his teeth over his bottom lip to stop it trembling. “It’s alright Tommy, this is good. She’s in love with a man who loves her so much. Almost as much as you do.”

Tommy shakes his head at that, one hand on his knee to brace himself as he tries to speak. “Not possible.” He snips, “And i loved her first.”

His voice breaks on that. The lip finally trembles and he hangs his head with a sharp inhale to let free that shoulder shaking sob. “She was my little baby. How is that my little girl in there? She used to-” Tommy had to pause again, roughly wiping his hand over his face to clear away the tears as he looks up at Grace, “She used to be this big,” he gestures with his hands in a way that she imagined was meant to be him cradling a baby. His voice sounds drastically different than she’s used to because it’s clouded by his tears and his agony.

“She used to ask me to brush her teeth and comb her hair and lift her up to wash her hands,” he bleats, images flashing through his mind of that short little girl who couldn’t reach the bathroom sink. He sees the little girl who stood on top of the toilet so he could brush those teeth and he can see the smile that little girl gave him all those nights when he asked to see to make sure he had brushed them right. “She used to climb into my bed every morning and she used to save up her tooth fairy money to buy us all gifts. She’d save food from her dinner for the dogs on the street and i swear on my life i don’t know how to live without her being my baby girl, Grace.” Tears continue to stream down his cheeks as Grace notices the black and white photograph that looked truly as though it had been through the war; as it had. it was stained and slightly run and it was crumpled. A little girl with a toothless grin and Tommy Shelby’s eyes, even with the lack of colour to the old photograph.

“It’s alright Tommy,” Grace hums, rubbing her husbands back soothingly, “She’s your little girl, she always will be.” She knew there was really nothing else she could say that would ease his pain. There was nothing anyone could do or say that would send you back to the little girl he would could throw over his shoulder and run around the house with. There was nothing that could ease the pain of a fathers aching heart when his baby girl becomes a woman who doesn’t need him like she used to.

“Thomas?”

He and Grace look up at Polly. The look in her eyes speaks for her . “She’s ready?” Tommy asks, prompting his aunt to nod her head with a smile. “Come on then, Tom!” Arthur calls from the grand doorway at the top of the steps to the hall. When Tommy and Grace reach him, Arthur wraps his arm roughly around his brothers shoulder and pulls Tommy into him. “Baby (y/n) getting fuckin’ married eh? Can’t fuckin’ believes she’s this fuckin grown up.” He shakes his head, taking his arm away from his brother when they reach the door of the dressing room where you were waiting. “Beautiful she is, Tom.” Arthur says, “Looks just like mum. In you go.” He ushers his younger brother in that door.

Nobody sees Tommy Shelby quite like you do, and he’s happy for it to stay that way. He’s known it since you were a tiny little girl wrapped up in his arms. He doesn't love anyone like he loves you, so it makes full sense that you are the only person in the world who he allows his vulnerability to fully leak through with. Although, he probably couldn't prevent it even if he tried.

Maybe that’s why he doesn't fight so hard to keep his eyes from welling up when he sees you standing there looking in the mirror, donned in the most beautiful white wedding gown that he’s ever seen. Placed in his hand is the stunning light veil that he had picked out for you. The headband was something like a tiara, because you were his princess and he truly believed that everything you had should be the best the world could offer. The dress too had been extortionate and you would never have gotten it had you known the price it had come to, but Tommy had never allowed you to know. He simply had the designers bring an array of dresses to his estate where you tried them all on with Polly, Ada, Lizzie, Grace, Linda and Esme to comment and complement each dress, as well ad aide you on picking the one that suited you the most with cost never a mention. Tommy had preached he ‘no expense spared’ approach the whole way through the planning of the wedding and any timenhe caught you trying to cut or manage costs, he simply shut you down and enforced the rule that the wedding planner was no longer allowed to discuss prices with you.

He had truly created the most fantastical day for you, and he would have spent every single penny that he had if it meant giving you the most beautiful start to a new life that he could give.

You had wanted him to be the one to place that veil on your head with the guidance of your hair dresser to ensure he didn't mess up the design of your hair. He had been the one to place little plastic tiaras on your head when you were merely a little girl who wanted to play princess dress up. He used to be the one to comb back your hair and twirl you around that Watery Lane kitchen with Arthur did the same with Ada and Polly laughed heartily from her seat at the table.

It felt right to have him put a tiara on you one last time as baby Shelby.

“You’re beautiful.” He breathes, his lips stretching into a wide and incredibly proud smile. “So, so very beautiful my darling.” Your cheeks blush ever so slightly and you lean over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, dad.”

He wants to hug you tightly and never let you go. He wants to will and wish you back to the little girl that he used to twirl around all afternoon. He missed that little girl so much. He had so much love in his heart for you, so much that it overwhelmed him every time he had tried to acknowledge it over the course of your life.

“I love you.” he says, his shaky voice conveying how much he actually means those words. “So much more than you can ever know. I’m going to miss you so much.”

You breathe a short laugh, shaking your head at him. “I’m not going anywhere, dad. I’ll still be seeing you all the time. I’ll just have a different name.” You hold his hand tightly in yours as he leads you out of the dressing room and into the hall towards the large double doors that would take you to the isle.

“Mhm,” he hums, “I suppose. You’ll understand what I mean someday. I just love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“You two ready to go?” The wedding planner asks, watching as you turn to Tommy somewhat excitedly and nod. “You ready dad?” You ask, giving his had a reassuring squeeze. He sighs heavily, but nods his head too, removing his hand from yours and moving his arm so that you can link yours through his. His play on his mind before he says them, a small smile too playing on his lips as the nickname that he used to call you runs through his memory.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, my little love.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #shelby sister reader #shelby!reader

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

Text

MC is Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Lessons 1-5!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 5-6 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

So we obviously know that things would run a little differently with L!MC instead of a normal human MC, but just how differently do things go?

No Mammon, you are not allowed to babysit!

Unlike in canon, Mammon needs to be kept away from MC at the start. Why? He’s known this kid for less than a day, he’s gonna try and use them for scams.

Everyone else in the house? Well, they’re of... observing MC. This is a first, a half human kid just wandering around the house...

MC and Lucifer, despite their amicable meeting, were in this really awkward beginning stage where they didn’t really know what to do with each other.

“So...” MC resisted the urge to twiddle their thumbs as they followed their father through the halls of the House of Lamentation. This was their home for the next year. It was very grand... and also very creepy in some places. “Where’s my room?”

“Right here.” Lucifer stopped suddenly in front of a door in the hallway, nearly causing MC to crash into him. He opened up the door, the room was very very pink. “Asmodeus decorated, you can redecorate as you see fit.”

MC popped their head in and looked around, there were approximately a thousand pillows scattered around the bed. It was the perfect amount! The very pink colour scheme was... okay. Maybe they’d be able to switch some of it out for a nice blue.

“It’s nice! Thank you,” MC was about to say Lucifer, then father, then just shut their mouth. What were they supposed to call him? They had known each other for like... an hour. He seemed like the type to want to be called father, he was too posh to be ‘dad’ or ‘pops’, and calling their father by his first name seemed way too casual as well... Parental Figure..? Guardian? Sir..? Should they call him sir???

The fact that MC ended their sentence like they were going to continue it left the two in a very awkward silence. A+ job at conversation.

“Anyway,” Lucifer finally broke the silence. “If you need time to settle in, we can pick up the tour later.”

“N-no, it’s okay! I didn’t really bring anything so...” MC was in the middle of mentally cursing themselves out, they thought they had successfully avoided falling into the awkward middle schooler stereotype! “We can keep the tour going.”

“Alright then.” Lucifer turned and motioned for MC to follow. Wow... he was very... curt? Was that the right word to use? MC hoped this was as awkward for him as it was for them.

The next stop was the portrait staircase, Lucifer explained each one down to each minute detail, MC listened in rapt attention.

“We received that one from a painter from the sixth layer of the Devildom, it was quite a rare find.”

“How many layers are there?”

“Nine, we’re in the centre most layer. This is the most highly defended part of the Devildom.” Lucifer explained.

“Oh,” MC smiled. “Cool, so it’s like how Dante described it in the Divine Comedy?”

“Mostly, some changes have been made since that time.”

“Ah, okay.” MC nodded, a thought came to them which made them clear their throat to suppress a giggle. “May I ask a question that might bother you?”

Lucifer turned and raised an eyebrow at them. “You may ask one such question.”

“Why did Dante say you were frozen in an ice lake?”

Lucifer looked around, once he was sure that no one was listening, he turned back to MC, his voice was slightly lower when he answered. “I was ice skating with Lord Diavolo, I fell through the ice and into the lake right as Virgil and Dante arrived. Of course, Dante had to embellish or I’d smite him, if only he left out the ice part.”

To MC’s credit, they didn’t laugh, but they weren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard it was to not burst into laughter. “Oh my... how upsetting...”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’d tell you not to tell anyone but,” his lips quirked up into a smile. “No one would believe you if you said anything anyway.”

MC gasped, but the gasp ended up releasing the laugh they were holding in.

The half demon noticed some of the other portraits on the wall, each of the brothers had a portrait, there were two demons that MC didn’t recognize. So that was their family... they wondered if their picture might be on that wall one day...

“Who’s he?” MC pointed at the portrait between Mammon’s and Satan’s.

“That’s Leviathan, the third eldest, the Avatar of Envy, and the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy.”

‘Oooo, so he’s a military guy!’ MC thought to themselves. ‘And the third most powerful brother? Wow... he must be crazy scary...’

“What about him?” MC pointed at the seventh and final portrait.

It may have just been MC’s imagination, but they swore they saw Lucifer’s expression sour slightly.

“That’s Belphegor, the youngest and the Avatar of Sloth.” Lucifer explained. “He is currently in the human world as an exchange student.”

“Oh,” MC studied the portraits a bit more. “Cool! I hope he’s having a good time up there.”

“As do I.” Lucifer replied. “Now we should move on to the Underground-”

“LUCIFER!” Asmodeus cried. “MAMMON’S BEING STUPID AGAIN!”

Lucifer sighed and dragged a gloved hand down his face. “We’ll continue this tour later, MC. Feel free to explore some more, try not to break anything.”

“Because the things might be cursed?”

“That and the things are old and expensive.”

MC spends the rest of the day chilling in the house with Asmo, who peppers MC with ALL the questions.

They does their best to answer... but it’s clear Asmo was hoping for something a little more interesting.

“So, do you run the human world?”

“No. No I do not.”

Finally, Mammon escapes whatever punishment Lucifer’s got him caught up in and tried to get MC involved in something that’ll probably make them lose their money.

Mini HC! A demon’s wings, tail, or horns might pop out randomly if they aren’t paying attention! The demon doesn’t even need to be in their true demonic form for this to happen. It happens more often with younger demons like MC!

Mammon stops his little scheme when he notices that MC’s wings have popped out and left a few stray feathers lying about... he can hear the CHA CHING sound already.

Our favourite dummy tried to Mission Impossible his way into MC’s room but MC caught him trying to make off with some loose feathers after they came back with a dustpan to clean them up.

Eventually, it was dinner time, and Levi was still camped out in his room. Mammon got sent to get him out, and he decided to drag MC along with him.

“I don’t think we should bother him-”

“Sh! We gotta get him out of his stupid room or he’s gonna stay in there until the exchange year’s over.” Mammon snapped, stopping in front of Leviathan’s door.

“I still don’t think we should-”

Mammon rudely interrupted poor, aghast MC by slamming his fists against the door. “LEVI! GET UP! DINNER’S READY!”

The only response was someone increasing the volume on whatever show was playing behind the door. Wow, petty. MC suppressed a snort until they realized exactly what they were hearing.

Was that...

“Is that the Sailor Moon theme?” MC turned to Mammon and asked. The moment the question left their lips the pair heard someone practically bolt to the door. It swung open and hit Mammon right in the face.

“MOTHER FUCKER-”

“You!”

Ah, so this was the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. MC didn’t know that track pants and headphones were a part of the uniform.

“You like anime?!” Levi asked, MC slowly nodded.

“Y-yeah..?”

Quick as lightning, MC was pulled into the room, and Levi slammed the door shut, tragically, the door hit Mammon again.

“LEVI YOU ASS-”

Leviathan didn’t seem too interested in Mammon’s chorus of curse words and angry knocks, he was grabbing some figurines off shelves and showing some to MC.

“Do you know who this is?!”

“That’s White Blood Cell from Cells at Work. What about Mamm-”

“How about this!”

“Violet Evergarden from the show of the same name, now Levia-”

“Whose this?!”

“LEVIATHAN!” MC stomped their foot and pointed at the door. “Mammon said we need to go eat dinner.”

“Don’t interrupt me, human!” Levi hissed, MC rolled their eyes and snorted.

“Nice to meet you, by the way.” MC crossed their arms and let their wings appear and puff up behind them.

“...w-whu-WHAT?!”

“We have to go to-” MC was cut off yet again by Levi passing out. Wow... what a day...

Mammon was still pounding on the door, MC rolled their eyes and opened it.

“He passed out, can you carry him?”

Mammon was decidedly not careful with his dear little brother when he dragged him out of his room and into the dining room. When Levi finally woke up, he got an earful from Lucifer, and tried to kill Mammon.

Apparently money was owed that Mammon wasn’t about to pay.

So yeah, MC and Levi’s alliance did not stem from desperation, it stems from otaku-camaraderie.

MC and Levi planned their credit-card hostage situation over a fun evening of watching anime.

Mammon never knew what hit him...

“Okay Mammon, pay up or your credit card gets cut up.” MC playfully opened and closed the scissors before poising them to cut up the helpless credit card. Mammon let out a shriek and shook his head.

“NONONONONO- don’t do that!” Mammon put his hands up and let out a nervous laugh. “MC... wh-what’s with all the animosity..? We’re buddies, right?”

MC snorted and rolled their eyes. “Buddies don’t try and make money off each other’s feathers.”

“You heard them, Mammon.” Levi snickered. “Pay me back the money you owe me!”

“I don’t have the money right now!”

MC shook their head. “Pity... oh well, bye bye Goldie-”

“The money’s in my sock drawer- just please put the scissors down!”

They slowly lowered the scissors. “What do you think, Levi?”

“Hmmm... you have two minutes.” Levi said, Mammon took off in a sprint out of the kitchen.

“Nice job Agent L!” MC chirped, holding their hand out for a high five, Levi looked positively elated and gleefully hit his hand against MC’s.

“We did it! I’m finally going to have enough money to go to the live show! Couldn’t have done it without your help, Agent Near.”

“Wait- why am I Near?” MC asked. “You get to be L and I have to be Near?”

Levi crossed his arms and huffed. “Would you rather be Mellow?”

“No! I want to be Light! We agreed that I’d be Light!” MC hissed. Levi, literally hissed back.

Rude.

Anyway, Levi got paid, and everyone had a very entertaining breakfast. Well, Mammon didn’t have a very good time, but boo hoo he should have paid Levi back sooner.

I think MC felt legitimately bad for Mammon, all the insults and jabs being aimed at him made MC feel a little guilty...

MC took care to be extra sweet that day, and it made Mammon feel a bit better. You know what made both of them feel amazing?

Screwing with the dipshits that were talking crap about the two of them.

MC didn’t need super-hearing to notice that some of the demons at RAD found it to be peak comedy that Mammon got slapped with babysitting duty.

“...do you want to mess with them?”

“What?”

“Too late, I’m doing it with or without you.”

Mammon was totally in, obviously. A little magic to move some of the lesser demons’ things around and voila! They were all at each other’s throats and Mammon and MC got to enjoy a fun lunchtime show!

The Purgatory Hall crew got to meet MC too, of course!

“And this,” Lucifer gestured to MC. “Is the other human exchange student.”

MC popped up from behind one of the rows of desks and gave the three newcomers a toothy grin. “Nice to meet you!”

Simeon’s calm and serene expression dropped almost immediately as he quickly looked from Lucifer to MC. The latter just gave him an innocent smile and tilted their head.

“Is something the matter?” MC asked, through the corner of their eye they saw Lucifer smirk slightly.

“N...” Simeon snapped back to reality. “No, nothing’s the matter, it’s nice to meet you, MC.”

“You awful demons!” A much younger voice yapped. “You brought a human child down here?! Shame on you!”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I’m overwhelmed with guilt, put me out of my misery.”

“Oh!” MC gasped. “You’re the chihuahua!”

“Wh-what?!”

“What?” MC shook their head and shrugged. “What’s the matter with me being a kid? You look like you’re ten.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m well over-”

“Am I just going to go ignored?” The third and final stranger asked, a cheeky/very suspicious looking grin on his face.

“Right, you.” Lucifer sighed. “This is Solomon, another human exchange student.”

“It’s nice to finally meet the other... human exchange student.” Solomon offered a nod.

“Likewise.” MC pretended not to notice the pause before he said human.

The first bell that meant “haul your ass to next period because if the cleaning staff finds you skipping class you will be maimed” sounded. MC slung their bag over their shoulder and brushed past their fellow students.

“Have a nice rest of your day, everyone!” MC chirped as they and Lucifer headed off to their next class.

“What do you stand to gain by pretending you aren’t my child?” Lucifer asked.

MC snickered. “It’s funny! Didn’t you see their faces?”

Lucifer half smiled and shook his head. “Perhaps.”

—————

“That kid is Lucifer’s.” Solomon said the moment Lucifer and MC were out of earshot.

“Oh thank heavens someone else saw too... I thought I was going crazy...” Simeon sighed in relief.

“Hey! We’ll be late to class if you guys don’t hurry!” Luke called from down the hall.

Solomon chuckled under his breath. “This whole year just got way more interesting...”

A lot of MC’s time got devoted to getting to know their newly found family.

Satan was proving to be very... polite? Almost weirdly so? He’d address MC like he would address a formal acquaintance, not like one would address a family member... or even a roommate.

MC tried the delicate dance of trying to respect his boundaries and trying to get him to like them...

Once the glasses incident happened everything kinda caved. MC had been quite rudely shunned by Satan and they were quite done trying to be his friend! Hmph!

...hmph :(

At least Beel was nice... despite MC being a little intimidated by his size and resting bitch face, MC soon found out that Beel was a massive cinnamon roll.

In return for all the snacks Beel shared with MC, they introduced him to at least five human world cooking shows.

“MC, why is the music so dramatic? They’re just revealing the cooking supplies.”

“It’s a reality TV thing... everything is 10 times more dramatic than it needs to be. The music’s doing its job though, I’m very impressed by that pie dish.”

Overall, MC’s first week at RAD was pretty decent! Until... well... until Friday.

MC could only hide their demonic side for so long...

“That’s them?”

MC slowed their steps and turned to look for the source of the voice.

“Yep.” A second voice confirmed. “Human kid, like I said.”

Ugh... of all the times to have needed to stay late after school... the hallway MC was in was completely empty and they had no clue where anyone they actually knew was-

“Boo.”

MC whirled around to see the two gossiping demons standing right behind them. They instinctively took a few steps back before the taller of the two demons grabbed them by the wrist and yanked them forward.

“Geez, are all humans this tiny?” The taller one asked as he slowly lifted MC off the ground. MC fixed him with the nastiest glare possible, he tried to scowl back, but ended up looking away and laughing to the shorter demon. “Look at them, barely enough for a snack, no wonder Beel hasn’t eaten them yet.”

Turning to the shorter demon, MC gave them a similar glare. “Put me down.”

“Tsk, quiet.” The taller demon snapped, he turned back to the shorter demon. “So if we just nab them now, how much do you think someone’ll take for their soul?”

“I-uh...” the shorter demon couldn’t pry their gaze away from MC’s as they tried to sputter a response. “I don’t think we should...”

“Why not? The exchange program’s still in its trial phase anyway, we kill this human and they’ll just bring in another one.”

The way he was speaking about them made MC’s skin crawl. How dare he? How dare he talk about them like they were just common trash? Who did this... person think he was?

An old familiar feeling bubbled beneath the surface. It had always been there, the intense, sometimes overwhelming desire to let the whole world know that they were better. The feeling coiled its way up MC’s spine and wormed its way into their head where it settled.

“You can’t be spoken to like that.”

Every single time this feeling had flared up, MC had done their best to suppress it. They didn’t know what would happen if they gave in, and frankly, they didn’t want to know.

“Let them know you’re not to be trifled with.”

The burning desire to crush the two demons like ants was almost impossible to ignore. MC felt their hands twitch and sparks snap between their fingertips.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” MC growled. “Put. Me. Down.”

“Human,” the taller demon turned back and cooed, his mocking tone made MC want to rip his throat out. “I said be quiet.”

His grip on MC’s wrist tightened until a sickening crack echoed through the empty hallway.

Bile immediately rose in MC’s throat as they let out an earsplitting scream. Their wrist seared in pain and their heart began to race hammer against their ribcage.

The desire to give in only grew and became harder to control, MC could feel themselves slipping. The feeling only had one simple question to ask, one that MC knew the answer to.

“Are you going to let them get away with that?”

Their face morphed into a cheek splitting grin despite the pain, their head tilted to the left as they stared down the two demons.

“No.”

Horns twisted and burst out of their skull as they dug their rapidly sharpening nails into the demon’s arm. Their teeth grew and sharpened while formerly hidden fangs burst through their upper gums. The agonizing pain of their bones growing, snapping, and shifting in and out of place as their demonic form took hold for the first time numbed as MC revelled in their new power.

Through the reflection in the taller demon’s horrified stare, MC could see their pupils stretch into almost catlike slits. He dropped them onto the floor while he and the shorter demon backed up. MC’s impossibly wide smile only grew as they watched the realization dawn upon the lesser demon as he stitched together what he had just done. The human he had decided to bother wasn’t quite so human after all.

“Oh?” MC cooed as their wings split through their back and unfurled behind them. “Where do you think you two are going? We haven’t even gotten started yet.”

—————

Lucifer was jolted from his conversation by a sharp blast of blue light and the sound of screams from a nearby hallway. He instinctively rolled his eyes.

“Lord Diavolo, pardon me but I need to go deal with a disturbance in the halls.” Lucifer said, Diavolo sighed mournfully on the other end of the call.

“Alright, if you must, but make sure to come over later! There are events that need to be scheduled.”

Lucifer knew full well that Diavolo was making half of the school events up as an excuse for basic social interaction. Oh well, it wasn’t the time to think on his prince’s social woes, he had a problem to solve.

How many times did he have to tell some of those idiotic students to take their petty squabbles outside?

Lucifer made his way over to where the fight was happening, he wasn’t walking with particular urgency, a fight on school property wasn’t too unusual, until a massive shockwave spilled through the hallways and slammed into him.

The Avatar of Pride felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up, that was his magical signature... wasn’t it? No, it was just different enough...

“Dammit.” Lucifer doubled his pace, when he reached the end of the hallway, the sight was just what he feared.

MC stood straight in the middle of the hallway with their back to him, two other demons were lying in crumpled heaps on the ground, one was next to an incredibly dented row of lockers while the other was lying next to an almost completely broken drinking fountain.

Lucifer’s own true form was out in a flash as MC turned to look at him. their eyes glowing a shining blue. Their lips curled into a snarl as they let out an otherworldly growl.

“Go away.”

“MC, calm yourself down.” Lucifer said slowly as he approached them. “Return to your normal form.”

The half demon bowed their head slightly and took a few steps back as he stepped closer. Lucifer almost patted himself on the back for such a show of authority, until MC paused and looked up defiantly. The glow in their eyes doubled as any sense of fear left them completely.

“I said, GO AWAY!”

They lunged at him, which he easily sidestepped, only for MC to quickly turn and latch their claws into his arm.

The child packed a surprising amount of force into their strikes, but he was able to block and redirect almost every single one. If this were any normal fight, Lucifer would have just swatted them away and have been done with it, but this wasn’t any ordinary opponent.

MC was his child, the exchange student, and going through their first transformation. They weren’t exactly rational or directly responsible for any of their actions at that moment.

During a first transformation the demon is almost completely relying on base instincts to function, they’ll go completely ballistic for a while, trying to tear through anything in their way until they run out of energy and pass out. Which is why during a demon’s first transformation usually happened much earlier in their lives under the watchful eyes of parents or guardians.

It was clear to anyone with even casual knowledge of demons that MC had fully given themselves over to their pride and wouldn’t stop trying to prove their superiority until they passed out.

Even though Lucifer was blocking and avoiding most of the blows, MC had managed to get in a few good scratches.

They snapped at Lucifer’s right hand, narrowly missing it and aimed their elbow at his jaw. Almost casually batting the hit away, he hissed in frustration.

“Damn it... MC, control yourself!”

MC snarled and sloppily lunged forward, only for Lucifer to use his wings to bat them to the side. They slid across the floor, their glasses falling off and skidding away from them. MC lay still for a few moments, their chest rising and falling rapidly.

Lucifer stood in place, waiting for any sudden movement. For a few moments, the hallway was quiet, save for the massive gulps of air MC was taking and the occasional groan of pain from one of the demons on the floor. MC slowly sat up and blinked a few times, then looked from side to side.

Something important dawned on Lucifer, he didn’t know just how blind MC was without their glasses.

MC’s rapid breathing began to slow as they continued to squint and search the area around them for their glasses. Lucifer almost audibly sighed in relief as the blue glow in his child’s eyes began to dull.

“MC.” Lucifer allowed his demon form to disappear as he slowly moved towards them, making sure MC could hear him approaching.

The half demon stopped scanning the area for their glasses and looked up at him, they awkwardly covered a yawn with their hand as their wings sleepily fluttered behind them. It would have been much cuter if MC wasn’t spattered with blood.

Lucifer slowly offered his hand, which MC eyed suspiciously. “Come on, let’s go.”

MC blinked a few times, then yawned again and awkwardly accepted his hand. “Mmph... m’tired...”

“That’s good,” Lucifer said quietly. “Everything’s okay.”

MC half nodded and awkwardly stumbled as they tried to find their footing. Lucifer tried to help steady them, but it proved ineffective as MC collapsed into his arms. Sighing, he picked them up and began to walk back to the House of Lamentation.

Just before leaving the school, Lucifer passed by Simeon and Solomon, who looked from MC, who had curled their wings around themselves and was sleeping soundly, to Lucifer, who had a few scratch marks on his face and whose hair was a complete mess.

“Ah, you two, one of you do me a favour.” Lucifer said as he brushed past them. “One of you go to the biology hallway and pick up MC’s glasses.”

Simeon and Solomon nodded and mumbled out an affirmation as Lucifer left the school with MC. Hmph, it seemed MC was right, their confused/shocked faces were quite funny.

MC woke up the next morning with the worst muscle pain they had ever and hopefully would ever feel. On the bright side, their wrist wasn’t broken anymore :D

They had literally built their true form. Their skeleton just stretched and rearranged itself, horns grew out from their cranium, their wings broke through their back and a new set of fangs decided to break through their gums... and then all of that new stuff was gone as MC lay in bed in their normal form like a deflated beach ball.

Not wanting to seem like a wimp, MC dragged themselves to breakfast, and everyone was all: “MC, go back to bed, you can’t do anything when you’re like this.”

“Quiet, I’m fine.”

“MC, if you’re fine, then give Beel a high five, make sure it makes the slap sound.”

“Alright then, Beel, come here.”

Beel didn’t exactly think to take MC’s shorter stature into account when holding up his hand for a high five. He’s tall, okay?

MC then proceeded to grit their teeth and try not to scream as they lifted their arm to weakly hit their hand against Beel’s.

“It made the noise..!”

“No it didn’t, I didn’t hear it.”

“Fatherrrr!”

“Couldn’t hear it, go back upstairs.”

When MC trudged upstairs, Asmo practically squealed and pointed out that MC had called Lucifer father for the first time. It’s a shame no one took a picture of happy/surprised Lucifer.

Side note: after the whole event calmed down, Lucifer was crazy proud that his kid kicked the asses of two grown demons.

Funnily enough, this incident is what kickstarted MC and Luke’s friendship! Luke heard MC got into a fight and brought over get-well cookies! Sure... Beel, Mammon and Levi stole most of the cookies but they were still good!

At school on Monday... hooooooo boy... the two demons that tried to kill MC had lived to tell the tale thanks to MC getting distracted by Lucifer, and now the entire student body knew NOT to fuck with MC.

A few weeks into the exchange year, things had settled into a somewhat normal routine... until one really shitty night in particular.

MC was curled up in bed, their new comforter and sheets were a pain to put in, but they suited MC’s taste much better than the pink that had been there previously. Sighing in contentment, MC felt themselves drifting off to sleep-

Mother fucker who was texting at the ungodly hour of 10:30 pm on a Sunday? ‘Twas the lord’s day and the lord of the house stated that everyone needed to get their asses to bed at a reasonable hour.

MC picked up their phone and put on their glasses. After being blinded by the light of the phone for a brief moment, MC read the text.

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags 💰🕶: Oi! MC! U want a snack?

Not-Rich Uncle Pennybags💰🕶: I’m in the kitchen! Get down here!

After debating whether or not to throw Mammon to the wolves and rat him out, MC decided that they did in fact want a snack and hopped out of bed to go to the kitchen.

“Hey kiddo!” Mammon said through a mouthful of something in a container, a loose note hung limply from a piece of tape that was stuck on the Tupperware. “Next time, hurry it up, got it? Ya can’t keep me waitin’ like this!”

“Mm...” MC grumbled, rubbing their eyes and looking around the kitchen. “What are you eating?”

“Custard!” Mammon smiled brightly. “Ya gotta try this!”

Oooo, custard! MC grabbed a spoon and practically skipped over to try some. Right before they were about to try a bit of the heavenly deliciousness, MC paused and finally caught a glimpse of what the note said.

‘Property of Beelzebub, you eat it, you die.’

Uh oh-

———————

Okay, the next few bits of this WILL come out in order, I promise! Kinda... not really... eh... but it matters not! I hope you all enjoyed this! I didn’t leave you with a cliffhanger this time considering Lessons 5-6 are already out ^_^

So uh- wanna fight the demons that tried to hurt MC? I’m bringing the pitchforks, who’s driving?

336 notes · View notes

hslotharrie · 4 years ago

Text

To My Best Friend

summary: reader faces quarantine at Harry’s and, turns out, it was exactly what they needed to come clean. also, Anne is the superior Mum.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: completely fluff. with marriage + mentions of family? not edited... when do I ever edit

based off of this ask<3

When you wake, the sun is shining through a slightly opened window in the far left corner of your bedroom. You can hear birds chirping amongst themselves from outside, cars driving far in the distance, it's quiet at Harry's home. Peaceful.

It's been a little more than four months since you and Harry decided to bubble at the beginning of quarantine. What you expected to be a few weeks turned into a lot more, but there were no complaints. Harry has the space, is the type to crave company, and you're his best friend.

Best friend.

You roll in the soft sheets, hugging the covers for a few minutes until you inevitably force yourself to get up for the day. You're not sure what sort of expensive luxury bed set this is, but god, they are comfy. You make a mental note to ask him later.

You zone out again on the soft sounds of the birds and the pleasant cool breeze flowing in through the window. You pull your phone from the bedside table to check the time, 10:56– and the weather, sunny and 78. You consider getting in the pool later.

Harry's phone rings somewhere outside of your room, followed by some muffled mumbling from the man himself signalling that he's awake too. You wonder if he's ate yet; he's a sucker for your omelettes and you're craving one about now.

You climb out of bed, going to the bathroom to tame your hair and brush your teeth, before heading to the kitchen to put together ingredients for the omelettes.

It's about 10 minutes before Harry appears in the kitchen, provoked by the smell. He places a hand on your lower back as a silent 'good morning!' while he stands to your side to admire your cooking. You try your best to ignore the warm feeling that his touch brings; the feeling that makes you wish for more than just a touch.

It makes you nervous, how quickly his presence has you feeling butterflies or how fast he can make you smile when you're in the darkest of moods. You've been sitting on the feelings for years, they were always there, hiding in the back of your head. The feelings that made you wish you'd shared that drink with him just for the second-hand contact to his lips.

Those are the thoughts that make you nervous. You try not to think about them when he's standing right next to you watching your every move with a wandering hand on the small of your back.

He's dressed in a colourful flannel and some shorts, you notice, much different than your fresh out of bed joggers and t-shirt. You make a mental note to change later, and you consider stealing one of his flannels (there's the thoughts again,) just to have his smell on you.

He pulls away from you to begin setting up the eating area, bringing out cups and silverware and then returning with a plate when he senses the omelette is nearly done. He stands to your left with the plate held in both hands like an excited toddler and when you flip the breakfast meal onto his plate he leans over and presses a quick kiss to your forehead in thanks. The thoughts come rushing back; I like when you kiss me, Harry.

"D'you have any plans for today?" he quizzes, before taking a drink of his orange juice.

"Was thinking about going in the pool later," you tell him, "it seemed nice out, an' I love your pool."

"I rather like my pool too," he chuckles "I'll join you, yeah? Could go for a swim later."

When you finish eating, Harry takes the plates to wash despite your protests. You cooked, he argues, so he cleans. You glance at the time, almost 12, and decide that the time it will take to change and freshen up will be enough for your stomach to settle and therefore a swim will be safe.

Returning upstairs, you first search for a bikini and then your sunglasses, changing and adding a pair of shorts. You brush your hair, throughly this time, and tie it up to avoid contact with the chlorinated water.

Before you go back downstairs, you take a minute to look at yourself in the mirror— doing your best not to allow the thoughts to come forward. (You don't think about how your body will look to Harry, and you definitely don't allow yourself to think about what he might think about the bikini you chose. Absolutely not.)

When you return downstairs to the kitchen, the dishes are washed and on the drying rack. Grabbing two cups and straws, you fill each about half with ice and then filtered water; and carry them both out to the poolside where Harry sits contently in the sun.

Unbeknownst to you, Harry's eyes travel along your body through his sunglasses when you appear from inside of the house, wishing he could touch you. His brain flicks back to the phone call he had this morning with his Mum, how she encouraged him to make a move because she knows you're meant to be. His stomach flips thinking about it.

"Do you remember when we went to that party and you pushed that guy into the pool because he was flirting with me?" you smile, sitting down beside him and handing him one of the cold waters.

"Mm, we had to leave because he was gonna' beat me up," Harry chuckles, "I was drunk. Probably lucky he ended up in the pool."

"You were being protective! It was cute!" you defend, rubbing his back lazily in comfort. He looks at you in a funny way, smile faltering a little before he returns his eyes back to the pool.

"M'gonna test the waters so the princess doesn't freeze," He proposes, rising from his seat when you give him a playful smack.

You rise as well, shimmying off your loose shorts and moving to sit at the side of the pool. Watching harry submerge himself first, you let your legs dangle off of the edge and into the water. It's cold, but a pleasant, enjoyable cold in the hot sun.

You sit contently for a few minutes, enjoying the water on your legs and watching harry swim back and forth. You lean back and turn your attention somewhere else, trying to avoid being caught staring. Suddenly, though, a hand brushes up the side of one of your submerged legs, informing you of Harry's presence.

"Y'coming in?" he asks, standing now. He's tall, so your faces are about level now.

"Are you in a hurry?" He's close enough now that he's dripping cold water on your skin.

"Maybe,"

Suddenly, he's gripping your waist to lift you and pull you into the water. You squeal, grabbing his shoulders as leverage as he practically drops you into the water that feels ice cold against your warm sunny skin. He laughs loud and happy when you splash water in his direction as payback.

Soon, both of your energies mellow out. Harry's on his phone, while you're floating around in a doughnut shaped floatie. Harry snaps a photo, but you don't notice.

When it's time to get out, Harry offers to go grab the towels while you float around for a few more minutes. He's driving you crazy in the best way. Your skin still tingles where he had touched your sides to lift you into the water, and your palms burn with the memory of his bare shoulders.

When he returns, it's like his energy has changed. The sight of a shirt over his chest makes you frown momentarily, and he's light on his feet rather than the happy strides he took on his way into his home. You see him tuck his phone into his pocket as if he's been talking to someone again, and when his eyes meet yours the wide smile is hiding something else.

When you slip out of the doughnut and climb up the pool ladder, he mumbles a soft "c'mere" and wraps the towel around your shoulders. His eyes watch you for a little longer than they should've.

"Mum called again," He murmurs.

"I's she doing well? Is that who called this morning?" you question, keeping your attention on his eyes.

"Yeah, woke you up I suppose,"

"Not at all!" You defend.

He goes quiet, picking at his fingernails (a nervous habit you notice he's developed since beginning to paint his nails) and looking off to the side to avoid holding eye contact with you. This makes you nervous, he's never this way around you.

"Harry,"

"I'm sorry, 'shouldn't be such a big deal," he says, letting out an awkward laugh.

A soft smile appears on your face, taking his hands into yours to part them. Gently, you move towards him, pressing yourself wordlessly into his body and allowing his hands to wrap around your towel-covered body. It brings him comfort, and you ignore your own heart beating at the contact.

"Better?"

"A little." He admits. He loves holding you, and sure, it helps his nerves, but he's going to tell you.

His Mum's been on him since he told her you'd be staying with him, telling him “now or never, Harry!”, and he's beginning to realize it really is now or never. He doesn't know how long quarantine will keep up or how much longer you will decide to stay, and he misses you even when you're just running something as simple as a grocery trip.

He doesn't know why he's scared, he knows a friendship as strong as yours could work through anything, Still, there's always the possibility that things could go bad. “Get out of your head!'”Anne would say.

This type of topic between the two of you is quite common, given Harry's music and your tendency to be quite open. However, this type of topic concerning the two of you is uncharted territory.

He thinks about the story you'd brought up earlier. When you'd both went to a party together and some guy, very obviously drunker than the both of you, tried to flirt his way into your pants before Harry had pushed him into the pool himself.

The truth is, he knew you would hold your ground if you weren't interested. Actually, Harry knows from first-hand experience that you don't need protection, you can be very vocal when you need to be, and he's even seen you deck someone at the bar a few years back for touching one of your friends. You were the protector.

That's why, upon seeing Harry at such a nervous loss of words, you had hugged him. It was your own way of protecting him.

"I wasn't trying t'protect you when I pushed that guy into the pool." He states, quiet and unsure.

You only hum in reply, allowing him to finish his sentence but letting him know you heard what he said.

" 'was jealous."

What?

"What?" you pull away from him only slightly, “why?"

"I didn't want stupid—" he pauses for the name "Josh, or whatever, t'be the one to take y'home."

You give him a confused look, now that you can see his face. Not putting two and two together.

"Josh is great! I love Josh—"

"More than me?" he murmurs, and it clicks.

Oh.

"Of course not... Harry," you hesitate, watching his eyes move between your own and his jaw clench.

Is this happening?

"I wanted," his shaky hand finds your arm, sliding down to take hold of your own, equally shaky left hand to toy with your fingers.

"I wanted t'take you home. Crawl into bed with you. Whatever else." he finishes. His stomach is in butterflies by now and he feels the tight, anxiety feeling in his lungs.

It catches him completely off guard when your lips are on his.

When you try to pull away, scared you've overstepped, his mouth only follows your own and his hand rises to your jaw to hold you steady. He feels a weight lifted from his shoulders, holding you, kissing you, like this. This is what he's needed.

When you finally do pull away, it's to go inside. Harry erupts in happy laughter when you make a beeline up the stairs. Nothing happens though, it's too soon and Harry agrees, but that doesn't stop you from curling into Harry's sheets, cuddling and kissing each other while watching one of your favourite films.

Catching up on missed time.

***

The wedding reception.

How did we end up here?

"Honestly," Harry speaks loudly to the crowd of your family and friends within the dinner hall "I have two people to thank for sealing the deal."

You smile wildly, knowing exactly which story he's about to bring up. Your eyes travel through the table groups you and Harry had spent so much time planning out. When your eyes catch with Mitch's he gives you a wink.

"Anne, my beautiful Mother, thank you for not letting me coward out of finally telling my girl how I felt," he pauses, you place a hand on his knee

"And Josh—"

You can't hold back the laugh, especially when the entire room turns to face the poor, completely unsuspecting victim. Josh, face red and confused smile on his lips.

"Years ago, when I pushed you into that pool at your birthday party because— you would've killed me if I didn't run! Because you were talking to her and I got jealous!" the room is erupting in laughter.

The room is full of the most important people in your's and Harry's lives. Still though, your happy eyes are glued to Harry, working the small crowd of people as per usual and telling a story about the time of and before quarantine; of when you'd basically moved in with him and never left.

Later, when you're wrapped in warm blankets and Harry's arms, you're reflecting on your day. The guests, who you'd talked to, what you'd heard.

"Wow. I'm married." he dumbfounds.

Wow is right.

"We're married." you restate for him, giving his hand a soft squeeze.

"Wow. I'm married to my best friend.”

Giggles boil over in the dark room. Harry is astonished suddenly, pupils blown, wide grin on his face. He presses quick kisses to the side of your face and you snuggle into his side more.

"I think we win, H."

#i feel like this was sorta rushed but hskdjsks it’s fine #can you tell i love the zane lowe interview #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #fineline #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles friends to lovers #harry styles marriage #request #not edited

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