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hirukochan · 1 year ago

Note

Can I please request a snape smut fic? The reader and him have been friends since school and she is in love with him only he does not know it or realize his feelings till Sirius is flirting with her and it leads to a fight between them leading to them confessing to their feelings. Maybe some dirty talk biting and rough smut

Sooo...I got a bit carried away with this...definetly not the roughest smut I've written, but I hope you like it anyway.

Severus and his sunshine

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

warnings: Smut, loss of virginity

Wordcount: 7402 (oops...)

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

“To the youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts!” You cheer and raise your glass clumsily into the air, spilling half your drink down your arm. “Oops-” You giggle.

It’s not the first drink of the evening and not the first time you toast to Severus’ new job - and certainly not the last. It bears repeating after all because how fucking awesome is this? You have always known that Severus is the most intelligent and brilliant and ingenious person you’d ever meet! It’s unfair - no, a bloody shame! - how many people never realised it just because Severus’ is a bit awkward and rude and- alright he’s a downright cunt sometimes but he has every bloody right to be with the road his life has taken so far! With a father like that and that awful Potter and his stupid goons!

“We need to cut you off.” He drawls, the corner of his lips curling, and tries to snatch your glass from you. You jump off the chair you're standing on and cradle your drink protectively to your chest, firewhiskey dripping down your arm.

“Try and I’ll bite your finger off!”

“You’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not.” Severus shakes his head but doesn’t try to get your drink again, instead focusing on his own (the second of the evening - what a bore). The pub is crowded and loud, nobody pays any attention to the two of you sitting at a table in the corner.

You plop back down on your chair and take a sip of your drink.

Severus’ eyes have gone distant again. That happens a lot lately. Like something is on his mind that he lacks the words to tell you. Social interactions aren’t his strong suit. You’re the ‘Severus-translator’ Lily used to joke when you three were still friends because you always knew what Severus wanted to say but couldn’t. You always made sure he was included in conversations, told others to shut up so he could speak or smooth over his rough edges whenever someone didn’t get Severus’ dry and dark sense of humour.

One look at him from across the Great Hall during breakfast and you knew whether he was in a good or bad mood. You knew when he had a nightmare the night before and needed a gentler touch or when to bluntly tell him he’s being a cunt.

This you can’t seem to figure out.

He smiles less these days. Even less than usual. The four years since you finished school have been hard, especially for him, especially with the war.

Emotions are not Severus’ thing.

His long black hair falls into his face, hiding his grave expression from the world and you. His face has lost its boyish features. His jaw is more prominent, complementing his high cheekbones. His hooked nose suits him. It’s something about the proportions or symmetry of his face - you can’t quite put your finger on it. Most people seem to be put off by his appearance, but to you he has always held something uniquely beautiful.

He taps his finger against his glass repeatedly. His fingernails are still painted black…You made him let you paint them last time he was at your flat. It suits him.

You place your hand over his, stopping his fidgeting. You wish you’d know what’s going on in his head, clearly whatever it is puts him on edge, but you trust he’ll talk to you when he is ready.

“You’ll be great.” You say. “I have no doubt. You’re a bloody genius, Severus! These kids are so lucky. They can learn so much from you!”

“I am certain they will share your attitude.” He says sardonically and you snort. Severus downs his drink and takes your empty glass to get another round (and probably a glass of water for you because he’s such a mum sometimes). You smirk as you watch him make his way through the crowd.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in these new robes he got, but you think they too suit him. It’s probably the first time he isn’t wearing hand-me-downs. He’s wearing all black of course. The most colour you ever saw him wear was at Hogwarts in the form of his emerald green school tie.

Severus looks intimidating. It makes him look older, stronger somehow. It’s such a stark difference to the beat up jeans, the The Cure bandshirt you gifted him one Christmas and the shabby leather jacket.

But not in a bad way.

He looks good.

Maybe it’s the fact he has grown taller since graduation. He’s a head taller than he used to be and shed his bend over posture. Escaping both Hogwarts and his recently deceased father agrees with him. That and your continued effort of forcing him to eat three whole meals a day, every day.

His wide shoulders and dark hair disappear behind people and you rip your eyes from the spot you last saw him.

So much has changed in the last four years but that little flutter in your heart whenever you look at him has not changed. When it first started in your fourth year you didn’t even realise what it was about. You’d start stammering around him, earning you silent glares and raised eyebrows from Severus at which you’d blush. After an embarrassingly long time you finally accepted that you had developed a crush on your best friend.

You’re too terrified of losing him as a friend to ever tell him though.

Severus isn’t good with feelings. They are too complicated. Too messy. He doesn’t need messy. His life is messy enough and so you swore to yourself to never tell him.

Your friendship was already a miracle. You are his polar opposite. You are outgoing and friendly, polite - too polite sometimes - bubbly and optimistic. Severus is - well Severus. He is grumpy and quiet and rude.

You decided to befriend him in your first year. You saw him during the sorting and something about him pulled you in. You really wanted to get to know him and when you heard him talk during your first potions class you made the decision to gain his friendship however long it would take.

You started by sitting at the table next to his in the library. You’d sit there everyday, quietly doing your homework and when he stopped shooting you irritated looks when he thought you weren’t looking, you moved to sitting at his table. You simply smiled at the befuddled Severus and did your work.

You approached befriending Severus like one might approach gaining the trust of a wild animal. Over the year a truce-kind-of study group had formed between you.

Towards the end of term he asked for your help collecting some things from the forbidden forest - Lily would never break school rules, but you are certain Severus didn’t actually need help, he just didn’t know how to tell you he wanted to spend time with you.

During the summer you send him letters, even after not receiving any back from him and when you saw him by himself in the Hogwarts Express in September you sat down next to him and you’ve been friends since.

You know a romance is even less likely than your friendship was.

“Merlin! I almost didn’t fucking recognise you!” A familiar voice says and you throw up a little in your mouth.

“Black.” You say monotonous. As if he owns the place Black sits down opposite of you on Severus’ currently empty chair.

“You’re hot! How come we never snogged in school?”

“Because whenever I am forced to face the fact that you exist I want to smash my head against a wall.” You say with a honey-sweet tone of voice at which Black’s grin only grows. He doesn’t get the hint.

“How come you’re drinking alone, gorgeous?” Black continues undeterred, a poised and arrogant grin on his lips.

“I’m not.” His grin wavers ever so slightly but Sirius Black has always believed himself so utterly irresistible that such small details don’t matter to him.

“I don’t see anyone.” He is wearing muggle clothes, trying just a tad too hard to look like a rockstar, but he talks and holds himself like a pureblood still. He might have run away from home but he is still living off of his family’s wealth and he hasn’t changed one bit since school.

Black is (as usual) utterly unaware that he isn’t welcome. Black’s eyes roam over your face and down to your chest like he is appraising you, determining how much effort you are worth putting into seducing you.

“I think it’s fate we meet like this! You look-” He licks his lips and a shiver of disgust rushes over your arms. “So different. Bet you cut loose that tosser Snivellus. He was clearly dragging you under. A frown on such a pretty face should be considered a fucking crime.” You clench your fists under the table. You have your wand in your boot. It would be so easy to hex him-

“Someone as stunning as you- Oi! I was about to head to this club in Dublin that recently opened to meet Moony and Wormtail - You should join me!” He winks.

“As I said - I am here with someone.”

“But you could be with me!” He laughs as if he just made a joke but you know he is dead serious. He thinks you’d gladly ditched whomever you are here with for the chance of spending time with him. “Bring her too - the more the merrier.” There is a not so subtle suggestive tone to his words and he wiggles his eyebrows. “Come on gorgeous! Someone as sexy as you should not be so uptight! Let’s have some fun, let loose a little - it’ll be worthwhile to you, I swear.”

“What a compelling offer.” Sneers Severus and your heart drops. Great. “I wonder how many you made that promise to, Black, and how many you left disappointed.” Black’s grin falters for a split second.

That’s right.

Severus is different.

He stands taller. He’s fierce and strong and you aren’t at Hogwarts anymore where it’s four against one with the teachers turning a blind eye. You have no doubt Severus would pull out his nastiest curses on Black given the chance.

“Let’s leave, Sev.”

“Come on, gorgeous!”

“That’s not her name, but one can hardly expect a simpleton like you to care for such fine details as names.”

“Sev.”

“No wonder she looked like somebody was fucking murdered in front of her eyes when I found her - how Lily could bear being close to you for so long I’ll never understand.” Black turns towards you. “Kick this dick to the curb - I’ll buy you a drink, gorgeous.”

“She does not need you for that-”

“I can buy my own drinks.” You hiss and when Severus still makes no move towards leaving, you grab your jacket and storm off. Let them duel like little children if they want, but you won’t get in the middle of that.

The cold hair of the night hits you while you run down the street. Tears sting in your eyes and you feel so stupid and pathetic for crying. Nothing even happened. You don’t know what’s going on- that’s a lie. Severus sounded like he was about to suggest you’re with him and therefore don’t need Black to buy you drinks which…it’s not wrong. You were at the pub with Severus and you were going to make him pay (he’s a Professor now after all and from what Sev let on the pay isn’t bad) but it wasn’t a date. And Severus suggesting or intending to suggest that hurts. You want it to be a date goddamn! You’ve wanted it for over eight years!

Severus calls your name but you just wrap your arms tighter around yourself and continue down the empty street on the outskirts of London.

“Just wait!” He catches up to you. “What a fucking wanker.” He huffs.

“Mh.”

“What did he say to you? I should have hexed him! I knew it!”

“Drop it.”

“No, I will not drop it! He made you cry- come on tell me what he said and I’ll-”

“What?!” Abruptly you stop walking and spin around to face Severus. He looks at you perplexed, his cloak billowing behind him in the breeze. “You’ll go and start a duel? Why? I told you to drop it.”

“He’s a fucking cavemen! Just the way he looked at you-” Severus grimaces. A muscle in his jaw tenses and he flexes his wand hand.

“Why the fuck do you suddenly feel the need to defend my honour?! You just ignored me in there- nevermind. I’m tired. I want to go home.”

“Don’t let Black ruin our night-”

“You ruined our night! I asked you to leave, you ignored me. I ask you to drop it, you ignore me. I don’t want you to fight Black! We aren’t at school anymore - you’ll get arrested!” Something you have never before seen crosses through Severus’ eyes. Something dark. A cold shiver runs down your spine and you take an involuntary step back.

“I wouldn’t be arrested, Sunshine.” He says, voice low, rumbling like thunder, a muttered promise of destruction and ruin and heat pools in your belly. That he called you by his nickname for you which he uses very sparingly, if ever, doesn’t help the matter. Severus takes a step forward. The heat morphs into a twisting, curling mass that takes your breath away. Severus looms over you, shadows dancing over his pale skin, drawing his cheekbones into an even sharper contrast and you gulp.

“You think Luci is going to come and rescue you?”

“Lucius? I don’t need Lucius for that.”

“Do you even fucking hear yourself?!” Your voice echoes through the empty streets, thrown back off the house.

“He made you cry!”

“Why does it matter?!”

“Because-” He clenches his jaw, his fists shake with suppressed rage. His nostrils flare and for a split second a tingling sensation winds around your heart at the expression in his eyes - the softness in the middle of a raging storm. A lone, untouched, unbothered island in the midst of a roaring ocean.

Severus exhales. Tension falls off his frame and the expression is gone.

“Fine.” He says quietly. “Let’s go then.” And he walks past you.

“No.” You can hear his steps stop behind you. Tears drip over your cheeks and you stubbornly wipe them away. “Say what you wanted to say.”

“I thought you’re tired.”

“Say it.”

“It’s- it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m not moving until you say it.” You cross your arms in front of your chest. Behind you Severus sighs and you can practically hear him pinch the bridge of his nose like he does whenever you annoy him.

“You sound like a spoiled child.”

“Good practice then. You’ll have to deal with a lot of those, Professor.”

“Are you- I have the feeling you’re angry with me.” You spin around and glare at Severus. He’s not good with emotions, sure - but now he’s just being dense.

“What made you think that?” You deadpan. He rolls his eyes and his disregard for your feelings drives you mad.

“Black’s a bastard-”

“This is Warren all over again!”

“Yeah and I was fucking right about Warren wasn’t I?” A vein on his forehead pulses, but you don’t give a shit. Warren was your first boyfriend and Severus behaved absolutely rotten towards you.

“Warren was a huge mistake, yes - but he was my mistake to make! What- do you actually fucking think I would ever fucking touch Black? Just the thought gives me an STD!” The barest flicker of amusement flashes over Severus’ features. “I just- I don’t get why you overreact like this everytime I talk to a guy. And it’s not like I was engaging Black there! The fucknugget is just to stupid to get a hint!”

“I-”

“There it is again! You did it again! What is it that you can’t tell me? Come on Sev! You can tell me everything. When did you start having secrets from me?” It’s a hit to your ego as much as you don’t like admitting it.

You have always been Severus’ safespace.

He told you things he never even told Lily! Something you didn’t know until third year when Lily asked whether Severus’ parents are ‘fighting again’ when you knew Tobias dickward Snape beat Sev with his belt the day before the Hogwarts Express left for the new term. You fucking healed him in you compartment because his ribs were broken and she asked whether they were fighting.

Why can’t he tell you this?

Another tear slips over your lower lid and slides down your check. Your bottom lip quivers. You suppress a sniffle and nod.

You have never felt further away from him than you do at this precise moment. It feels like Severus is sand slipping through your fingers and the harder you try to hold onto him, to the way it was before, the faster he slips away. Maybe too much has changed. Maybe he’s too different. Maybe this unlikely friendship was doomed from the beginning.

You know you’re about to start bawling and that’s the last you want Severus to see.

“Alright…I see.” You whisper. “Life’s different now. We’re keeping secrets now…”

“Sunshine-”

“No- no, ‘tis fine-” You roughly wipe your eyes. “See you- see you sometime….congratulations again.” You turn around to find a quiet alleyway to disapparate to your flat and break down there like a pathetic little teen that got her pathetic little heart broken without ever even working up the courage to confess her pathetic feelings.

Your steps sound horribly loud in the dark, cold night and with every step you take away from Severus you feel like you’re losing him more, every step is another crack, another break, another insurmountable obstacle between you. The cold wind cuts through your clothes with ease and you shiver.

“I love you.”

You stop dead in your tracks. Your heart skips a beat or two or maybe it forgets how to work entirely.

Severus’ voice is quiet, uncertain like it has not been since second year when he thought you didn’t want to be friends with him anymore after he lashed out at you.

“Sunshine- I knew Warren would only hurt you. That he’s not good enough for you. He bragged in the Slytherin common room that you showed him your boobs- He said all sorts of awful things and I- I just sat there. I should have said something, defended you, made him shut up but- Warren was two years above us and…” He takes a shuddering breath, dispelling old shame and insecurity from his voice. “Black’s just like that. He never cared for you before and now all of a sudden he is dying to go out with you? You don’t even realise it, Sunshine but- you- you are stunning. You have changed so much since school, you are- fuck I don’t know- words-” He sighs and rubs his hands over his face.

You feel numb and like you’re on fire at the same time. Of course you knew Warren spread some shit about you around, it’s why you broke up and broke his nose in the process for good measure, earning three weeks detention with McGonagall, but you wished you would have known sooner...

And- Severus loves you? No- that can’t be right- He’s in love with Lily- it’s always been Lily-

“You’re happier somehow- you- you’re radiant and beautiful and- you’ve grown up so much and- and- I love you. I’ve loved you for years- I want to protect you. I want to guard your happiness and yes I’d go back to knock out every single one of Black’s teeth for talking to you like that. You just have to say the word - sunshine - I’m pretty sure there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. And I know I’m not bloody good enough for you- I am rude and surly and miserable to be around - I don’t expect you to feel the same…I- fuck I don’t know-”

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

“I thought you love Lily.”

“Lily is- was- still is- I have no goddamn clue- she’s like a sister. I love her. And I think marrying Potter was a huge mistake and that she’ll divorce him in about three years - if she manages to stand him that long and when she does I hope- I hope we can mend our friendship…maybe- but- but I don’t love her like that. Not like I love you.”

Severus loves you.

Has loved you for years.

Severus loves you… You swirl around and before your anxiety can overpower your heart, screaming and aching and thrashing about in your chest you cup his face with your trembling hands and press your lips against his.

Severus stiffens. For a moment you just stand there, on your tiptoes to be able to reach him, holding onto him, feeling his heat against you, your lips exploding with electrifying tingling. Your stomach clenches and twists, flip flops and gives birth to a thousand erratic butterflies and all flutter around in a whirlwind of emotions that are too colourful, too many, too intense to ever find words worthy of describing the sensation.

Cautiously Severus puts his hands on your back and moves his lips against yours. You’re still crying, tears stream over your cheeks and run along the curves of your face to your lips.

As if woken from an enchanted slumber, Severus drags you against his chest and kisses you fiercely. One arm wrapped around your back and clutching at your waist, and one hand cradling the back of your head, long slender fingers threading through your hair. You grab the front of his robes and cling to him.

You both stumble a few steps and your back hits the brick wall of a house. Severus licks along the seam of your lips which you happily part for him. Your kiss grows sloppy and desperate. Your tongues meet gingerly at first but soon the slight air of discomfort and wariness at this development vanishes, flies away into the cool air of the night, gone and forgotten, as unimportant as your stupid fight.

Severus is kissing you. You are finally kissing Severus. He loves you. He has loved you for years.

Everything is good.

“Sev-” You whimper against his lips between two kisses. You try to break them, to wrench an inch of air between you but Severus is like a man dying of thirst that finally found a water source and is clenching his burning thirst. “Sev-” You push against his chest. Severus releases your lips, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t let go of you.

He leans his forehead against yours and blinks back at you, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pervade yours, to find a direct path to your deepest thoughts, a link between you and him that is untouchable by anybody else, that runs deeper than any other connection between two people.

“Don’t you want to invite me back to your place?” You murmur and tug playfully at the button just above his throat. Severus’ eyes darken. A muscle in his jaw jumps. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Needy, desperate, wanting.

He clears his throat and steps back. How the fuck does he still look put together? How can he manage to reign in that storm in his eyes so expertly, so fast and clean while you’re a panting, sweaty, needy mess after just a few damn kisses?

“You won’t like what I’d do then.” He says, voice heavy with what he leaves unsaid. You push yourself off the wall and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You trail a few chaste kisses up the side of his jaw and flick the tip of your tongue over his earlobe. Severus inhales sharply and flexes his hands again.

“I don’t break easy, Sev.” You whisper and press a kiss to his ear. “You should know that.” He takes another shuddering breath and just when you think you’ll have to deal with the aftermath of his kiss on your own while picturing him nestled between your thighs (once again), he pulls you against his chest and holds you in a bone-breaking grip. You feel the familiar pull of side-along apparition and in the next moment you smell the even more familiar, dusty scent of Severus’ house. The smell of books is new, added after Severus renovated the house enough to evict his father’s influences and put his own touch to it - namely by adding a shittone of books.

Severus doesn’t give you time to catch your breath. He grabs your hand and pulls you up the stairs. You giggle and run to keep up with him. He practically kicks the door to his old room open (you know for a fact he has not even touched the door to his parents room since his father died) and crushes his lips against yours as soon as he pulls you over the threshold.

The burn marks from where Severus used to zap flies with his wand are still on the ceiling. The little pencil sketches you made near the baseboards are as well. He replaced his bed though. A brand new double which you are being steered towards now.

“Severus-” You moan against his lips and tear at the buttons of his new robes.

“Is this real?” He whispers back and leans his forehead against yours again, watching you struggle with his clothes. “I’ve pictured this so many times- thought about how I would feel to have you here- is this happening? Or am I sleeping?”

“It’s real.” You say, lips against his recently freed throat. “I’m here.”

“You’re here…”

“Severus-” You hesitate and pause your quest of revealing Severus’ body to your eyes. “I’ve never done this-” Suddenly you feel shaky and overwhelmed.

“Warren-?”

“Is full of shit. He lied- about all of it. Have you-” He nods, but there’s a distant expression in his eyes that tells you it’s not something he wants to talk about. Probably something he’s ashamed of. You know the kind of company Lucius, Mulciber, Rosier and the other’s like to keep and don’t pry further.

“I’ll trust you then.” You murmur and sit down on the bed, pulling Severus down with you.

“I’d never want to hurt you, Sunshine.” You kiss and between kisses scoot up the bed until your head is resting on the soft pillows and Severus’ lean body between your thighs. “I’ll take care of you.” He mutters against the corner of your mouth and kisses your cheek. “Such good care.” He trails down your jaw. “Like Black or Warren never fucking could.”

“I never wanted them.” You moan. Your body moves on its own, knowing precisely what you want and need even if your mind has yet to catch up. Your legs wrap around his hips, your back arches, pressing your breasts to his chest. You thread your fingers through his silky hair. “Only you.”

“Me?”

“Only you. Always you. Whenever I thought about it…when I pictured how it would feel while touching myself I only ever pictured you.”

“Oh sunshine-” He groans and rolls his hips against you.

“Sev-” Severus draws his wand and mutters a quick spell. Something curls in your stomach, it’s the weirdest sensation and for a second you are utterly confused, but then your gaze meets Severus’ and you understand. Contraception spell. You didn’t even think of that. Of course Severus did. You smile.

He mutters another charm and your clothes vanish. You squeak, blush and hide your face behind your hands.

You can hear the clanking of wood hitting wood as Severus tosses his wand onto the nightstand.

“You- fuck…” Cautiously you peek between your fingers. A faint pink tinge has spread over Severus’ cheeks and nose, down to his now fully exposed neck. He looks cute. Adorable. You take a deep breath and drop your hands. This is Severus. Your Severus. There is nothing to be afraid of with him. “You put to shame all great beauties of the comprehensive history of this world.” His words brush over your skin like a tender caress and make you shiver and burn with embarrassed heat at the same time.

“Severus-”

“It’s true. The old greek masters wish they would have had a model like you sit for their marmour statues. Such beauty has to be preserved for the ages - but you…you are just mine.”

“Who are you and what have you done to my stammering, cute, insecure Severus?” You tease. Severus’ eyes are still pinned to your breasts. He visibly snaps out of his thoughts and looks up to you. There he is. Flashing through his impossibly dark eyes for the flicker of a second before they return to the heavy gaze, consumed by carnal desire that has been ignored for too long and has now broken free with demanding force.

“He knows he’s about to find out how you feel.”

“Come and find out then.” You shoot him a challenging grin. Severus kisses you in response. He kisses you and settles more of his weight on you. His very much hard cock presses against your exposed cunt. You gasp and clutch at Severus.

“Shit- Severus- that won’t fit!”

“It will.”

“You sure?” He chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement like they do so rarely and you relax.

“I’m sure.” You trust him. You love him. You want him. He’ll take care of you.

You let him take control. Severus kisses you more. He seems determined to cover every inch of your body with all the confessions of his love he has missed out on. All the elapsed opportunities. All the kisses you could have shared if you both had had just a little more courage. But it doesn’t matter. You are here now. You are together in his bed, skin pressed against skin, breathing the same air, staring into each other’s eyes longingly while his hand slips between your thighs.

You’re soaked and whimper when his slender fingers gather your slickness, brushing your aching cunt with featherlight touches. He draws gentle, slow circles over your clit. Pressure and heat build in your belly and deep inside your cunt fast. You cling to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin without even noticing.

“I wondered so many times how you’d look…” He murmurs. His lips brush over yours as he speaks. His breath dances across your cheeks.

“...in the throes of pleasure.” Severus’ voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. A smoky rumble that goes straight to your core.

He teases your entrance until you’re squirming and rolling your hips against his touch before finally plunging a finger inside you. “I wondered how you’d sound…how I would feel knowing it was me making you feel like that…” You give him the answer promptly. Moaning and whining, gasping for air.

“Sev!” You throw your head back and arch your back. The pressure keeps building and building, beyond anything you ever managed yourself. He adds a second finger and with it a delicious, stinging stretch. He curls his fingers and presses the heel of his palm to your clit. You squirm under Severus’ intense gaze that seems to look right through you, through your skin down to your very soul. He watches every flicker of pleasure and desperation he paints onto your face with utter, devoted, undisturbed attention to you and nothing else. Nothing else matters.

Severus knows you like no other. It feels right to share this with him as well.

He loves you.

You still can’t believe it.

“Sev!”

“Cum for me, sunshine. Cum on my fingers. I want to know- I’m done wondering. I want to know.” You do. Crying out and panting his name, thrashing about beneath him as waves upon waves of intense pleasure run havoc over you, but it’s fine. You can let go with Severus.

“I need you Sev- please-” You gasp even before your orgasm has released you from its clutches. “Please please please- Sev-” He groans.

“Fuck and I thought you sounded needy in my head.” Severus mutters and aligns himself with you. He takes his time, giving you time to adjust to his girth, slowly pushing deeper and deeper into your still spasming channel, forcing it to give way to him. He grunts and whispers praise, how tight you are, how good you feel for him, how well you’re taking him. You whimper and hold onto him, leaving red streaks across his back. Severus doesn’t even bat an eye at it.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and savours your every sound, every twitch and throb of your cunt finally, finally gloved around him.

“Sunshine-”

“Severus…” More words aren’t needed. He rests there, deep inside you, his body pressed to your trembling smaller one, shielding you from the cold of his room and the world itself and you know there is a promise in there somewhere.

“I can’t believe it-” He murmurs and kisses your collarbone, down to your sternum. He kisses and licks, sucks, grazes your skin with his teeth. “You feel…incredible…you’re so good for me sunshine-” He kisses your breasts, flicks his tongue over your hardened nipples, licks broad strokes and teasingly closes his lips around them.

When Severus finally moves again he does so in slow, measured thrusts. He watches your expression with hidden wariness, watches your every reaction. He can’t hide from you though. He is waiting for you to regret this. To tell him to stop. He’s afraid of letting go, afraid of scaring you off, of losing you.

But he’ll never lose you.

You buck your hips and whine impatiently. “Come on Sev.” You whimper. “Fuck me like you really want to fuck me.”

“It’s your first time I will not-”

“It’s done, Sev. Bye bye virginity! That train of stupid little things society places far too much worth in has left the station indefinitely. Now fuck me.”

“Sun-”

“Severus Snape! Fuck. me. properly.” He groans. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fine.” Severus grunts and a rush of excitement pulses through your stomach and drenches his throbbing cock in more fluids. “I warned you.”

The bed creaks dangerously under his thrusts. His hips slap against yours with a wet, fleshy sound that drives you crazy.

“Oh fuck yes- yes- just like that- that’s-” You babble more nonsense, moaning and shredding Severus’ back with your nails. He fucks you mercilessly into the mattress, spearing you open with his cock with each hard thrust. Your entire body trembles under his thorough attention. Your cunt yields to him in wet, fluttering excitement. It cherishes the promise of soreness his thrusts leave behind.

Any attempt at grasping for and trying to hold onto one of the many thoughts rushing through your fuzzy, hazy mind is a fruitless endeavour.

“Fuck! Ahhh- so good…” Severus mutters against your collarbone and plunges his cock into your drenched cunt again before pulling out almost completely and driving back in with such force he knocks your head against the headboard. You both laugh.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You weave your fingers through his hair and pull him down into a sloppy, passionate kiss. You gasp and moan into the kiss and drink up the way Severus continues to lose the iron grip on his emotions he had cultivated since graduation, revealing more and more of the love-starved, unapologetic, fierce man you know him as. The man that feels so freely, so intensely, so deeply that it hurts him so much.

Every thrust, every kiss, every exploring hand gliding over your sweaty skin, squeezing your breasts in testing, careful motions is a testament to how deep his feelings for you run and have been running for so long.

It breaks free of him in violent bursts and buries you beneath roaring pleasure.

Severus is not good with words.

But he will be damned if he doesn’t show you what he can’t figure out how to say.

“Severus-” You moan, joining the creaking bed and his grunts, the symphony of your love. This would not be a pretty, romantic, fairytale like love. You are both messy and broken in your own ways. It will be hard. It will take work and compassion and will seem impossible at moments, especially in the midst of a war, but Severus is worth it.

To you he is worth it.

He always was and will always be.

You whine in protest when Severus pulls out of you but before you have a chance to voice it otherwise or even glare at him, Severus flips you over.

“Put your hands on the headboard.” He rasps in your ear. You are shaking and struggle to keep yourself upright, but Severus’ arms around your waist stabilise you. You hold onto the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white. Severus is kissing your neck, nibbling and sucking, painting his marks onto you as if to say ‘I was here’ or maybe ‘back off’. Maybe both. Maybe more.

He fills you up again, reaching much deeper than before and you gasp at the unfamiliar, intense feeling.

“Your cunt clutches me so hard-” He grunts and bottoms out. “Sucks me in- all soaked and desperate.”

“Sev-”

“Hmm…yes. I’m here…” He sucks the delicate skin on your neck into his mouth and bites down gently, at which a loud, wanton moan breaks free of you and he bites down harder.

You meet his thrust with your hips, his cockhead hits a spot inside you it previously missed and you fall apart. His grip around your waist turns bruising and Severus pulls you back. Your grip around the headboard goes slack. You melt into his touch, twitching and shivering, whimpering, mind fuzzy with always new, higher, stronger, more intense levels of pleasure.

Severus holds you to his chest, your thighs on either side of his, useless, hands helplessly holding onto his arms, and moves your body up and down his hard shaft. Using you and the fluttering of your cunt as your orgasm continues to coarse through you. He grunts and bites your shoulder, harder than before and a particularly strong spasm shakes your body. You drop your head onto his shoulder, melting further against him.

“Again-” You rasp and present your neck to him. A grin flashes over Severus’ lips. Sweaty strands of hair stick to his forehead, his eyes are glazed over with hazy lust.

“My pleasure.” He coos, but instead of indulging you, he kisses you. One small, chaste peck after another. You squirm against his grip, claw at his arms, painting more red streaks on his pale skin.

“You never told me you got a tattoo-” You murmur. The sight of the jet black snake and skull on Severus’ left inner arm pulls your mind out of its haze and into a brief moment of clarity. Severus hesitates ever so slightly in his thorough, teasing attention he’s paying to your neck. Something about the tattoo unsettles you, though you can’t exactly decide why.

“Must have forgotten. It’s new.”

“Hmm…very metal.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why’d you get it then?”

“I thought I would.” Severus sucks on your neck and that plummets you back into mind-numbing, all-consuming, ecstatic pleasure.

“Maybe we should go to Dublin after.” Severus purrs in your ear. “Show Black all your pretty marks.”

“Idiot.” You giggle.

“I’m going to cum-”

“Cum inside me.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Please, Sev! Cum in me.” Severus pushes you forward and you fall face first into the mattress with a tiny outrages squeal. Severus laughs at you and grips your hips, adjusting them to sit flush with his own. He fucks you roughly into the pillows. You clutch at the sheets. Severus loses more and more of what little composure he still had. He mutters things you can’t make out.

His thrusts are accompanied with lewd, wet noises and the headboard hitting the wall.

“Severus!”

“I’ll fill you up ahh- with my cum- leave you dripping-”

“Yesyesyes-” He moves your hips with each thrust, pulling you back into him as he buries his cock inside you. His balls hit your sensitive cunt. His fingers dig into your skin, sure to be leaving bruises.

Severus cums with your name on his lips, tumbling over them in a low, reverent, lust-drenched prayer which you join with your own faint, desperate whimpers.

Feeling the hot spurts of cum hit your inner walls violently kicks you over the edge for the third time. Severus slumps above you, pressing his forehead to your back between your shoulder blades, panting and spent.

You stay like that for a while. Both of you trying to catch your breath, relishing in the buzzing glow of your aftershock and the feeling of each other’s love on your skin and warming you from the inside.

Gently Severus pulls his softening cock from you and lies down next to you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in your hair and presses a tender kiss to the top of your head. “I hurt you.”

“I liked it.” You murmur back and place your hands against his chest, nuzzling your face to his neck. “Why did it take us so bloody long to finally do this?” He chuckles. He tugs a strand of messy hair behind your ear. You look up to meet his gaze. It’s heavy with emotions, a swirling storm of love and care and fear. You reach out to him in a futile attempt of soothing it. The pads of your fingers meet his cheek and he shudders under your touch, before leaning into it. His eyes fall closed and for a brief moment he looks at peace. Content. Home.

“I-” He opens his mouth as if to say something but closes it again. His brows pull together into a frown, a deep crease forming between them. His lips go white as he presses them together into a thin line. His jaw tenses. “I’ve made a terrible mistake-” His voice is hoarse from unshed tears and the effort of suppressing them. He loses. One escapes from between his closed lids and slides down his cheek, meeting your fingers. You wipe it away, but more follow.

“I’m trying to fix it- I am! But I-”

“It’s ok.” You whisper and press a tender kiss to his jaw.

So he did it…You had your suspicions, of course you did, but a part of you refused to believe Severus capable of those horrible acts committed by the Death Eaters. And you were right. The pain, regret and self-loathing is so evident in his face. He can’t bear to look at you.

“We’ll fix it. Together. It’ll be fine.”

You are there when the Aurors storm his house to arrest him. You were sitting on the threadbare sofa in his arms as he read to you.

You tell him not to resist, to not tell them anything.

You send an owl to Dumbledore.

You are at the trial, sitting on one of the benches. Severus looks miserable sitting in the middle of the courtroom, deep shadows under his eyes, a tremor in his wand hand. The chains of the chair are wrapped tightly around his arms. He avoids your eyes.

Dumbledore defends him passionately. Recounting Severus’ turning spy for him, reporting you-know-who’s steps to Dumbledore, how invaluable his intel had been. He recounts the dangers Severus was willing to face. He demands he is released. And he is. The Wizengamot clears him of all charges and you walk out of the Ministry with him, holding his still trembling hand in your own.

“Is this real?” He whispers and you bite the inside of your cheek to not start crying. You want to be strong for him.

“Yes.” You kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around his neck. “It’s real. You’re a free man. I’m here. I will always be here. We’ll figure this out.”

“Together?”

“Together. I love you, Severus.”

“I love you too, Sunshine.”

#severus snape #snape fandom #ao3 fanfic #severus snape smut #Severus Snape x reader #snape x reader #snape x you #request #dividers by cafekitsune

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starglitterz · 1 year ago

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♡ SPICY. // PART ONE

❝ ‘cause i’m too spicy for your heart, ring the fire alarm! ❞ // attractive things the genshin men do

✧ feat ; al-haitham, ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, heizou, kaeya, thoma, wriothesley, xiao x gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; fluff, suggestive, implied kamisato!reader for thoma’s, reader is shorter than ayato for his part, modern au for wriothesley, traveller!reader for xiao’s

✧ a/n ; yeah yeah i’m a slut we all know that already let’s move on 🙄 /lh i was brainrotting sm LOL i hope u guys enjoy!

part one︱info︱part two

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ “are you listening?” AL-HAITHAM’s voice cuts through your messy thoughts and you scramble for your pen to scribble some nonsense and at least pretend you were concentrating. your eyes are glued to the paper in front of you, too embarrassed to meet his gaze after what you were daydreaming about him. without warning, he uses his index finger to tilt your chin up to face him with a curt “pay attention.” his green irises bore into yours, scanning them as if to discover why you haven’t been focusing and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rise to your cheeks. his actions clearly result in the opposite of the desired effect though, because it’s made you ten million times more distracted, too busy thinking about your tutor doing things that certainly aren’t academic.

✦ there’s definitely something in the way that AYATO leans down to hear you better. it’s a simple gesture, but when he bends down to listen to what you’re saying, it proves that he’s putting in the effort to continue the conversation and is genuinely interested in your chatter. or even if it’s something like leaning against the door frame, a reminder of how idiotically tall he is, it always gets your heart beating quicker and you lose your train of thought. but maybe he isn’t as clueless as you think he is, because the smirk playing about his lips as he admires your flustered expression while you stumble over your words definitely says otherwise.

✦ sometimes when you see CHILDE’s idiotic smirk, it takes everything in you not to punch it off his face. however, when he’s in the heat of battle, the way his lips curl just so as he lifts an eyebrow at his opponent daringly, almost as if he’s asking them “you really think you can defeat me?” you’d rather punch him with your lips. the sheer confidence he exudes as he fights, the casual manner with which he switches his bow to his hydro polearm, the easy grin dancing about his mouth – it’s incredibly attractive.

✦ it shouldn’t be a big deal, but whenever CYNO wraps his arms around your waist from behind to pull you into his embrace, you swear your heartbeat accelerates to the speed of light. he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder too, and if he’s feeling mischievous (which is practically all the time), he’ll tilt his head ever so slightly so he’s at the perfect angle to press fleeting kisses against your neck. you can almost feel his smile against your skin as you shiver from the sensation of his warm lips.

✦ DILUC is not one for grand public displays of affection. you don’t mind, you’re fine with it, but one day another patron at the angel’s share keeps flirting with you, and suddenly you feel the winery owner beside you, one arm snaking around your waist almost possessively. “it’s nice to meet you,” he murmurs to the other man in a tone icy enough to freeze over hell. his fingers tap a steady rhythm against your hips and you feel like his touch is branding you through the layers of fabric. it evidently gets the message across because the poor customer leaves immediately with his tail between his legs, and all DILUC does is squeeze your waist lightly and press a soft kiss on your forehead as a hint of a smug smile curves his lips.

✦ being a genius detective and also just being really annoying are certainly not mutually exclusive, as HEIZOU continues to prove every single day. case in point; the way he’s proudly walking around the tenryou commission, the array of wine-coloured bruises you left on his neck last night blatantly out for display. the other inazumans who notice look scandalized, while kujou sara seems dangerously close to bursting a blood vessel. “heizou!” you hiss, pulling him into a secluded corner to scold him, “why didn’t you wear a scarf or something?!” the detective merely gives you his trademark grin and winks playfully, “why should i? it’s a mark of your love, i wouldn’t want to hide it~”

✦ one thing’s for certain whenever you talk to KAEYA – he will give you his undivided attention. you love that about him, but sometimes his piercing gaze is almost distracting, the varied shades of sparkling blue a stark contrast to the matte black leather of his eyepatch and often making you veer wildly off-track to whatever you’re telling him about. it only worsens when you catch his stare sometimes drifting to your lips, but he’ll shake his head as if jolting himself out of a reverie before he continues looking at you and nodding like he’s been paying attention this entire time. and if you call him out on it, he’ll just raise both hands in surrender, “sorry, babe, i can’t help it – you just look so kissable when you’re talking!”

✦ THOMA is an absolute softie, always making your favourite foods and spoiling you as the housekeeper of the kamisato clan. it makes sense that you’ve never realised just how strong he actually is. but then you catch a glimpse of him one evening after a long day’s work, and as he lifts up the edge of his shirt to wipe the glistening sweat off his face you think you could collapse. the gesture exposes his toned abdomen, muscles clenching as he lets out a soft groan, and the only coherent thought running through your mind is; why has he been hiding this the entire time?! maybe it’s time for you to switch the kamisato housekeeper uniform to a crop top…

✦ WRIOTHESLEY is a gentleman who’ll never let you take a cab home alone, especially not after a long night out in the city. but as he’s pulling up to your house, your thoughts are definitely nowhere near appreciating how sweet he is, rather you’re admiring how close his muscled arms are to your face while his hand is on the back of your seat as he turns to check the rear mirror. from the passenger seat, you get the perfect view of his side profile, his chiseled features, the barely visible trace of stubble on his chin, his stormy gray eyes… he’s like the dark male lead of every romance manhwa. and when he catches you looking, he gives you a smile that’s almost teasing, “like what you see, beautiful?”

✦ even though XIAO is the one who’s supposed to teleport to you whenever you call his name, you can’t help but find yourself gravitating towards him whenever he says yours. it must be how he utters it, softly, lovingly, almost reverent in his gentleness as if you’ll shatter before his eyes if he whispers it even a decibel louder. and sure, he calls you by several petnames (butterfly, dove), but the way your name slips past his lips like a prized jewel will always be your favourite. sometimes it feels as if your name is going to be worn out from how often people use it, begging you to help them with miscellaneous tasks and pushing you to exhaustion. but during those late nights at wangshu inn as you rest in his embrace, he whispers your name as if it’s a secret for just the two of you and the stars and you can’t help but think how lucky you must have been to be born with such a pretty name, created for your adeptus lover to murmur with so much affection lacing his tone.

GRR i lowk love this... hope yall do too! don't forget to check out part 2 when it's published as well <3

#✏️ — quill writes !#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader #astronetwrk #childe x reader #cyno x reader #diluc x reader #heizou x reader #kaeya x reader #thoma x reader #wriothesley x reader #xiao x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader

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sm-baby · 1 year ago

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The Chosen One

Freakshow AU by: @hootbon

WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-

Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account

Word count: 6795

Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.

There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.

They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them.

Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied.

Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.

When he visited though, it was always a treat.

Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—

“A little harder to break. “

Kinger was feeling especially antsy?

“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”

Ragatha, did you anger Caine?

“ I will speak to him."

The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap.

That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options.

A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-

“You! At the very back."

It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious.

The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option.

Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body.

“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.."

Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"

Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle.

Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy.

“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”

“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him.

Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her…

“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.

It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered.

The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “

" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.

" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull.

“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.

“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!

" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again!

" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"

“ Because I want her."

Silence…

The blue Brother stared.

Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.

“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “

Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.

Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.

Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.

Why is it always the new girl?

❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎

Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.

“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■��ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”

“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”

“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “

“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎�� ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”

“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”

“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”

Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time?

“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “

" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text.

" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “

Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least."

" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.

Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.

“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “

“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”

“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “

“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”

“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”

“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”

“■︎□︎📬︎ “

The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings.

Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.

She’ll be fine.

She'll be fine.

She's fine.

Shes—

“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”

What!?

" What!? “

The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened.

When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “

“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up.

Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe.

Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “

They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.

For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.

“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.

Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.

Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company."

Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared.

Snap!

Blip!

Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.

She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.

“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “

She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one.

Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.

Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.

*(A closet made of fine wood)

> Check

Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up…

Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…

“ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice. -Able AI “ +2 armor

Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm. - Able AI “ +8 armor

Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend. - Able AI “ +6 Attack

And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door.

*(Take items?)

> Yes

> No

> Yes

*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)

Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.

The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni. I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance. -Able AI“ +5 speed

*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)

> Yes

> No

> Yes

*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)

Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian…

Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.

Anyways, this freaked her out.

Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.

A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game?

She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game…

…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire.

Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.

Click!

Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet.

He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “

“ Uhh-"

“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “

" U-Uhm my name is-”

" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."

" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “

“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”

Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine…

“ You must be hungry."

“ I haven't been hungry since-"

Snap!

Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table.

Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest.

“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… "

Pomni had a double take.

The food looked… Strangely realistic.

Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.

But this…

Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since…

Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.

Improper.

Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking. The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!

“ Do you still eat in the circus?"

“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.

Able blinked, hiding his disgust.

The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?

Oh god oh fuck.

Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-

“ J... Just finish chewing."

“COOL."

Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure.

*(Able sits at the opposite of you)

> Talk

> Say nothing

>Talk

*(Talk about…)

> Place

> Food

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Place

“W…Where.. Am I?”

Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”

Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”

*(Talk about…)

> Food

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Food

“ How did you .. what…?”

“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”

*(Talk about…)

> Festivities

> Caine

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Caine

“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”

Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”

*(Talk about…)

> Festivities

> Nothing, Nevermind

> Festivities

“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”

“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”

Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.

“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.”

“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”

“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”

Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.

…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother.

“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh?

She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…

“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf. The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say??

Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.

“ I suppose I should word myself better…”

Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form.

“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!

“ I -” Pomni flinched!

“ You. You specifically.”

The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death!

Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…

“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!

Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!

“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “ I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”

He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word.

And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down.

Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?"

" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “

Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief… at this point he was almost over it…

Was that really it?

Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because…

Because…

Oh heavens how embarrassing.

He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!

Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog…

As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair…

The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him.

“... Are you okay?"

Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself.

“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."

As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “

“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

“ W-When can I… leave?"

… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “

“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.

The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time…

he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care.

For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated…

Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself.

Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something…

“There are no traps."

Pomni sighed.

" I think.”

" You think??”

" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “

Great..

And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.

But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there.

she would read the signs

“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2

|| Note: consider more coloring options for the tent. -Able AI”

“ Moon.AI Beta

||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance. -Caine AI”

" The VOID (Do not enter)”

The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…

Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over.

Slam!

“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?"

It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “

“ Out of here?"

“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?"

" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “

“ He tried?"

" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy."

" Can I see it? “

" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.

" But-”

" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “

Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable.

Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus…

She did it. She won.

She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride.

“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “

Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.

On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?

She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.

Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.

A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.

Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.

But then,

Creaak… The sound of the door.

“ A moment alone."

Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…

Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair.

Pomni swallowed.

Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy.

For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate.

“ How was your visit?"

“ Good." Pomni frowned.

“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “

What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”

" Stop. “

The brushing stopped,

" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.

Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.

Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.

That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?

“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “

Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze.

" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “

Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.

“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “

“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well.

" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked.

" And what would happen if I said yes? “

" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “

" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure.

To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business.

“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “

" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “

"... No? “

" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “

“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.

Pomni exhaled…

shit… change the subject.

Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “

Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “

“ Huh?"

“ It was rigged, my dear."

“ Oh…… … … … "

“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued.

Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.

“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “

“... Thanks."

" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened.

Caine moved closer to the door. “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“

Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”

The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head.

She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.

She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.

It's okay, Pomni.

We have a plan.

This isn't over yet.

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yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen · 5 months ago

Text

It Feels Like Home (Logan Howlett x F! Reader) Part 1/?

A/N: This is dedicated to anyone that requested a soft/hurt comfort Wolverine story. This is only the first part, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: "The Worst One" Logan 'Wolverine' Howlett x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, mentions of abuse/assault, nightmares, showering together (non-sexual), being sick (cold), Logan being protective, deadpool and wolverine spoilers.

Word Count: 3.8K

It was just another boring Monday evening at the bar when you first met him. The floors were sticky, the jukebox in the corner crooning, drowning out the conversations only mildly interrupted by the cue balls smacking together.

But when he entered, the room seemed to shift. His shoulders were slunched down, making him seem small but it did little to deter the others in the room from outright staring. And who could blame them? As he slid into the stool across from you, lifting his eyes to stare at you, you could feel the liquid pool inside you. The dark brown hair, tussled from running his fingers through it, lips swollen from constantly biting, and those eyes. It takes a moment before you realize he’s asked for a drink while you’ve been ogling him at your bar.

You turn grabbing the whiskey and a glass, turning back and shouting when the owner, Jim, grabs your wrist tightly. “We don’t want you here,” he sneers at the man, no not a man a mutant, the last mutant.

“Just give me one drink and I’ll go,” he sighs, tapping the bar with two fingers.

“You’re not wanted here,” Jim lets go and pushes you further down the bar, ignoring how your feet stumble and you hit the counter hard, wincing.

But the man at the bar doesn’t. “Take it easy,” he warns, eyes narrowing, “she didn’t do anything.”

“Jim,” you clear your throat, putting down the glass and rubbing at your side, “we can give him one drink, right?”

Jim glares and you lower your eyes, before he sighs loudly, “One drink, then he gets the fuck out of my bar.” He sticks out a finger towards you and you slowly raise your head, “and don’t fucking talk to him.”

Jim walks back towards the office and slams the door, and you step forward, pulling out a fresh glass, putting it on the bar, and filling it. “I’m sorry about him,” you grab a rag and start cleaning glasses, “he can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be talking to me,” you stop and glance up, catching him staring at you as he quickly drinks the shot.

“I can talk to whoever I want,” you go back to the glasses, “and for the moment, I choose you.”

You grab the bottle and pour him another drink, ignoring those around you staring daggers into the side of your head. “You’re making some enemies,” he grabs the drink and downs it, eyes widening slightly when you fill it for a third time. “But I get the sense you don’t give a shit.”

“I don’t,” you raise your head, leaning on the bar, tossing a finger back and forth, and raising your voice, “these fuckers try to make it seem like they are holier than thou by judging you. But we’ve all made mistakes in our life.”

He swallows, tapping his fingers and watching as you fill the glass, “I made more than a mistake,” he raises the glass to his lips.

“So it was on purpose?” the glass pauses and he lifts his eyes to meet yours, “because if that’s the case it changes things.” He narrows his eyes, lowering the glass with a clink as he sets it down hard on the bar, the liquid sloshing over the rim. His silence is telling and you break contact and go back to cleaning glasses, “maybe we started on the wrong foot,” you put the glass down with a sigh, telling him your name.

He doesn’t respond and you roll your eyes, “This is usually the point where you tell me your name.”

“Seems like you already know all about me, bub,” he grabs the glass and tosses it back with a wince. “I’m the Wolverine, the fuck up, the murderer,” his glare could melt iron but you don’t bend easily keeping his gaze, “but they call me Logan.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you pour him another drink, “so what brings you to town?”

Logan furrows his brow, “what the fuck?”

“Business or pleasure?” you continue, ignoring him. You giggle when you glance at him, seeing the utter confusion on his face, “I’m trying to change the subject. I think you’ve had enough doom and gloom for a lifetime.”

His eyes soften for a second, so quickly you could have blinked and missed it before he scoffs, “I’m just passing through.”

“Where are you headed?”

“I-” he hesitates, “I’m not sure.”

“Stop fucking talking to him,” Ron one of the regulars stands behind him, and he slowly turns to look at him. “The boss told you to serve him one drink and get him the fuck out, are you hard of hearing? Stupid bitch.”

“What did you say?” Logan turns all the way around and stands. The tension is electric as other patrons stand and take a menacing step closer.

“Enough!” you shout, coming around the bar to stand in front of Logan, ignoring how he’s so tall he can see over your head. “Everyone stand down,” you lift your arms out like wrangling a bunch of raptors. “Ron, don’t be a fucking asshole!”

Suddenly a gun shoots off to the right and you flinch curling in to cover your head, and a warm body wraps around you, tugging you into their chest. “What the fuck is going on here?!” Jim holds the shotgun and you straighten up, hands pressed to Logan’s chest, his hands still wrapped protectively around your waist. “Get your hands off my fucking bartender,” he swings the gun towards Logan who pushes you behind him.

“Why don’t you lower the gun, bub?” Logan lifts a hand toward Jim.

“You don’t tell me what do,” Jim aims the gun at him, “now pay your tab and get the fuck out of my bar.”

Logan keeps an eye on the weapon, covering you with his body and pulling his wallet from his pocket, grabbing a hundred dollar bill, and putting it on the bar. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, his voice quiet when he whispers, “see you around, sweetheart,” before taking off through the side door.

The silence stretches, and Jim lowers the gun before turning to you with a glare, “My office, now!”

The ass-chewing you received that night should have been enough to deter you from ever speaking the name Logan again but the next night when he showed up sitting in the same stool at the bar, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Hi,” you whispered, glancing around the mostly empty bar, Jim was off for the evening, and the other patrons already lost in their cups. Tuesdays were always the slowest.

“Hey bub,” his voice is gravely and sends shivers down your spine. He waits for you to pour him a drink before catching your wrist softly when you pull back with the bottle, “you okay?”

You pull from his touch and put down the bottle, his hand quickly retreating thinking you don’t want his touch. You put out your hand, palm up and he watches you for a moment before slowly putting his hand in your waiting palm. You squeeze, smiling at him, “I got my ass chewed out, and threatened to lose my job but besides that nothing. Jim knows he needs me.”

“I’m sorry I got you into trouble,” he looks around, “he around tonight?”

“No, he’s never in on Tuesdays. And he usually leaves by 11:30 each night.” The edge of his lips curves for a second before he tosses back the drink, understanding what you’re trying to tell him, and he nods.

“That’s good.”

The rest of the week passes much the same, Logan showing up well after midnight when the majority of the crowd and Jim have retired for the evening. The two of you sharing stories over whiskey, and 80’s power ballads. There was something safe about having Logan there, an understanding between the two of you, you’d never experienced with another.

Each night he’d wait as you locked up the bar, walking you to your car before taking off down the street, an uneasy friendship forming. But everything changed on Saturday. You woke with a splitting headache and a fever, tossing and turning in bed, sweating through the sheets you reached for the cell on the bedstand, and texted Jim you wouldn’t be in.

The whole day was miserable, laying there sick as a dog and trying to keep down water and some soup from the cabinet. It was around 11:00 pm when you felt the fever finally break and you lifted your phone to see the time. It only took a second through the haze to feel the utter terror take over. “Logan,” you gasped pushing back the blanket and getting dressed as quickly as possible, the whole process taking you longer than normal.

Logan stumbled out into the alley, the crowd cheering behind him as his inebriated body slammed into the trash cans. “Taking out the trash!” Jim shouts with a grin before spitting on him and slamming the door shut.

He didn’t bother getting up, it wasn’t worth the effort. He lowered his head back and looked at the stars sprinkled across the sky seeing a swell of clouds looming in the distance, his heart starting to beat faster at the sting in his eyes. He closes his eyes as the first drop of rain falls from the sky, and he lets it quickly drown him, his clothes plastered to his skin.

“Storm,” he whispers her name, his chest tightening as he struggles to breathe through the pain. His friends are dead and gone, and it’s all his fault. He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t hear the footsteps getting closer.

“Fuck,” you blink, glancing down at him and he slowly opens his eyes squinting as the water drips down his forehead. You purse your lips for a moment before sighing and leaning down, balancing the umbrella in one hand and reaching for him with the other, “Come on, help me.”

“Leave me,” he slurs, cursing when you don’t quit, “fuckin’ leave me!”

“Nope, not happening,” you drop the umbrella and quickly get soaked in the downpour, “come on, time to get up.” He growls, and you see the beginning of his claws break through his knuckles, “going to stab me?” You raise a brow at him, “then do it.”

His claws retract and he sighs loudly before standing on unsteady legs, his body leaning forward to faceplant when you grab him around the waist. “Fuck,” he’s heavy, and you struggle before getting him upright and leading him toward the parking lot.

A couple of men stand outside the door to the bar by some bikes and you try to hide his face as you shuffle him toward your car. “You finally taking one of the boys up on their offer?” they jeer at you and you smile tightly walking faster, and cursing when you hear the boots sound behind you.

“Come on,” you urge the man beside you, “they can’t see you.” You reach the car, open the passenger door, and shove him inside, quickly shoving in his leg and turning around to lean against the door, blocking him, your breathing fast and hard from the effort.

“Wait,” one of the men stops, squinting through the glass, “is that, that fuckin’ mutant?” They all freeze looking between the man slumped in your car and you, and you back up as they move closer. “You like mutants, slut?” they close in and you reach for the key in your pocket, hand quickly finding the pepper spray and sliding the safety off.

The words spewing out of their mouths are vile, the rain soaking through their clothes as they corner you into the streetlight. The smell of their breaths reeks of alcohol and you go to pull out the pepper spray when one grabs your wrist and twists, smiling when you let out a painful gasp. “Oh, come on slut, we know you like it rough,” he grins.

“Let her go,” they all freeze, turning and staring at the man leaning against your car.

One of the men, grabs your arm and pulls you into his chest, his hand running over your breasts, “and what are you going to do about it?” You squirm trying to get away from his touch, and the claws extend, his hand quickly leaving your breast to push you behind him.

“You don’t want to do this,” Logan warns, pushing off the car and standing straight.

“Oh, I think we do,” the man in front of you smiles, pulling brass knuckles from his pocket. You watch with wide eyes as they pull out a variety of weapons; guns, knives, and even nunchucks. The air is electric, the streetlight flickering as if it senses the tension before one of the men shouts, “Come on, let’s go!”

Logan grins, “Let’s fucking go.”

You drop to your knees and crawl through their legs, scrambling up before the axe drops and reach for Logan, coughing up a storm and trying to catch your breath, his claws retract as he grabs you pulling you into his chest and looking down at you with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong-”

“Don’t kill them,” you hold the lapels of his coat, nails digging in as he growls at them over the top of your head as if they made you sick, “it will only make things worse.”

“I won’t kill them,” he pushes you behind him with a grin, “just a little light maiming.” You nod and turn towards the car, sitting in the driver's seat escaping the rain and turning on the heater. The screams are quickly drowned out when you turn up the music, reach for a towel from your swim bag in the backseat, and dry your body the best you can.

A few minutes later the passenger door opens and Logan plops beside you. He’s covered in blood but you don’t comment, tossing him the towel and heading towards home. The ride home is silent and when you pull into your house, he gets out before the key is out of the ignition. You scramble out, watching as he walks back towards the road, “where are you going?”

“Listen,” he stops looking back towards you, water dripping down his face, “I appreciate what you did back there. But that is where this partnership ends, I don’t need your charity. Just follow the rest of the world and hate me, it will save you a lot of trouble.”

He turns away and you follow, “Listen, it’s freezing outside, and I know for a fact you have nowhere to go. It won’t kill you to accept help for a night.”

“No,” he turns angrily, “but it could very well get you killed. Those guys back there were ready to assault you for helping me. Imagine what people will do to you if they find out you let me stay here. I have enough blood on my hands.”

“So you’re going back to the park to sleep?” you put your hands on your hips, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been at the bar every night for the past week. You leave when I do and I see you go into the park.”

“You stalking me, princess?” he sneers.

“No,” you shake your head, shivering, “but I see someone that could use some help. And I am offering it. Take it.”

He watches you for several moments, and you feel your fingers start to lose feeling from the cold, shoulders trembling as you tuck your hands into your jacket. “Fine,” he bites, following behind you as you lead the way to the door, hiding your smile. Your fingers shake, the key struggling to find the lock and he holds onto your hand, his hands solid and warm helping you unlock the door before quickly pulling away.

“You need to get warm,” he mumbles quietly, locking the door behind him and pushing you further into the house. The water pools beneath you and he frowns before sweeping his hands under your legs and lifting you into his arms. “Where’s the bathroom?” your eyes are wide as you wrap your arms around his neck, nodding towards the stairs.

He doesn’t break a sweat as he carries you up and into the bathroom. He sits you down gently, quickly going to turn the shower on, the steam filling the room. You struggle with the zippers and buttons on your clothes, the shaking worse now that you’re out of the rain and he watches for a moment before sighing loudly.

“Trust me,” you snap your head up, raising one brow and gasping when his claws descend on his right hand, “I won’t look.”

“What are you-” the words evaporate when he runs the claw down your front, you close your eyes waiting for the pain but nothing happens except your clothes falling to your feet in ribbons. When you open your eyes you see his back, stiff as he faces the door, “thanks.”

He doesn’t reply except to nod, and you pull back the curtain and pause, hesitating for a moment. “Do you want to join me?” His head snaps to look at you, his eyes on your own, never straying lower. “I don’t mean anything sexual, I just….I just thought we could both be warm.”

His eyes change, less of the harsh lines, something complex, and his eyes keep yours as he starts to strip. You give him a moment when he hesitates at the suit hidden behind his clothes and you get under the hot water, letting it warm you up. A moment later the curtain moves back and he fills the space behind you.

You turn towards the wall, letting out a harsh cough, and he leans around you reaching for the soap, “you’re sick,” he doesn’t bother phrasing it as a question, “why the hell were you out in this weather?”

You turn, looking at him, water dripping down into your lashes, “I knew you would come. I thought if I could stop you before you went inside and I wasn’t there. I was trying to protect you.”

His eyes soften, and he nods, “let me take care of you, sweetheart.” He rubs his hands together, holding them hesitantly before you step into his touch, allowing him to wash you. You relax under his touch and he turns you, stepping behind you to press his chest flush to your back, your head leaning back over his shoulder as he rinses you under the hot water. He repeats the process with your hair, allowing you to close your eyes and rest your head on his chest while he cleans you both.

It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with a man, and you’d had sex several times before. But something about this was different, his hands tracing over your body was not sexual both of you getting comfort from the touch.

You lift your head, and he freezes almost as though you’re going to tell him to fuck off, but instead you pump some shampoo into your head and gesture for him to bend down. He does without complaint and his eyes drift closed as you wash his hair, his hands resting gently on your hips, you take your time, washing off the dirt and grime. You can’t help but wonder when the last time he had a shower was before you’re directing him under the water to rise. His lips release a soft moan, and you smile softly seeing him so relaxed.

He slowly opens his eyes, seeing your lips turned up and he tugs you back into his chest. The water begins to turn cold, and he quickly leans down to turn it off, before pulling you back into his arms and resting his head against your own. You feel the ghost of his lips press to your forehead before he reaches for the towels and wraps them around your body.

He gets out first, reaching a hand out to help you out before drying you completely. “I think I have some clothes that might fit you.” He pauses, looking at you questioningly, “my ex left some of his clothes when he skipped town, they might fit you.”

He nods, watching as you go into the bedroom, coming back out in fresh pajamas and handing him the shirt and boxers. You leave him to get dressed, waiting in the hallway and leaning against the wall with your eyes closed, your head throbbing.

The door quietly opens and you stand up straight opening your eyes to see him in the black t-shirt and plaid boxers. “Goodnight,” he mumbles, walking past you back towards the living room.

“Wait,” you reach out without thinking, hand landing on his shoulder, solid and so warm. He glances down at your hand and you go to pull away when he reaches for it, holding it lightly in his own. “You can sleep with me,” you swallow down the nerves, “if you want. No pressure, just..I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

He watches you, contemplation clear on his face weighing the pros and cons. He gives a shallow nod, squeezing your hand before letting go. You don’t question it, turning back towards your bedroom, Logan’s footsteps following close behind. You tug the curtains closed, flicking on the fan overhead and pulling down the covers, Logan’s hand hovers over the t-shirt before pulling it off and climbing into the bed.

You can’t help the way your eyes trail down over his muscles and a smile tugs just barely at the corner of his lips when he opens his arms and you collapse into them. He reaches across, flicking off the lamp and you both relax into one another, sleep quickly claiming you as his breathes even out.

Sometime around 3 am Logan begins to stir, his arms around you tightening and his breath quickening.You grogilly rub your eyes and lean back, watching his head thrash back and forth as he starts to mumble. “Jean, Scott, Charles, Storm, Beast-” he repeats the names tormented and you put a hand to his chest feeling his pulse race.

“Logan,” you whisper, rubbing gently the crease between his forehead, “it’s just a nightmare. Come back to me,” he stills, his heart still racing beneath your palm but he slowly blinks open his eyes. “You’re safe,” you whisper, his hand clutching the one on his chest tightly, his eyes wide, frightened from his dreams. “You’re safe, come back to me,” you tighten your grip on his hand, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Everyone leaves me,” he whispers, brokenly, pressing his forehead to your own, your heart shattering for this man.

“I won’t,” you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him and pulling his head into your chest, “you’re safe here, you’re home.”

I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think!

#Wolverine x Reader #Wolverine x you #logan howlett x reader #logan james howlett #Logan Howlett x you #Deadpool and Wolverine #The worst Logan #The worst logan x reader #female reader #autumn writes

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

Note

hey lovely! if you’re up to it, would you be able to write something w james or remus with comforting a reader who’s insecure about her skin/having broken out? i’m totally not projecting (i get chronic rashes on my face and one broke out recently and it’s making me sooo self conscious because my birthday is soon and i wanted to feel pretty 😖)

thank you!! mwah!!!

xoxo @mareagirls

Hi Rosa my love! Thank you for requesting and happy early birthday!!

cw: reader is insecure about her skin

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 750 words

You scrub at your skin with your fingertips, pads pressing harshly as you distribute the cleanser over your face. Then turn the tap as cold as it can go, splashing water and scrubbing again to make sure the product is all gone.

“Alright, enough of that,” says Remus as you towel your face dry. You look up to see your boyfriend watching you in the mirror from the bedroom. He tents his book beside him on the bed, beckoning you over. “Come here, bring your stuff.”

You turn around to look at him. “Why?”

You can see Remus intentionally smoothing the pique from his expression, gentling it into something kinder. “Just come sit with me, please.”

You gather your things off the bathroom counter, carrying them into the bedroom and plopping down in front of him on the bed. Remus knows your routine. He takes a washcloth from you wordlessly, wetting it with product.

“Close your eyes.”

You do, and he starts swiping the product gently over your skin, starting at your jawline and working his way slowly upwards, following the planes of your face. His free hand is wrapped loosely around the side of your neck to steady the both of you.

“Why are you doing this?” you murmur, trying not to move your face as you speak.

“Couldn’t stand seeing you look so angry with yourself,” Remus replies, matching your volume. His voice is low and raspy, inlaid still with traces of frustration. You hadn’t realized you had been looking like that. “S��like you’ve no idea how pretty you are.”

There’s a thick pause. The washcloth shushes over the skin of your forehead, and you can feel Remus’ gaze boring into your shuttered lids.

“I know you think I just say that,” he says, setting the washcloth down on your leg. You open your eyes, and he’s squirting moisturizer onto the pad of his index finger. His eyes flit up to yours, the color of honey or perfectly steeped tea. You look away. “I don’t. I wouldn’t bother saying anything if you weren’t as lovely as you are, and it’s insane that you don’t know it yourself. I mean, we’re looking at the same face, aren’t we?”

Your lips twist upwards as you close your eyes and Remus sets his hands to your face again. He smooths the moisturizer into your skin with thorough, loving strokes.

“I do feel pretty, sometimes,” you admit. “Just not so much when my skin is acting up like this.”

“Not sure how that changes anything.” His voice is gruff, audibly judgemental in the way you’re sure only he can manage. It coaxes a soft laugh from you, and Remus’ thumb swipes extra affectionately over your cheekbone, approving. His tone lightens. “Really, dove, it’s not like the rest of you just disappears because you’ve broken out. You’re just as lovely. I’m not sure anything could change that, short of reconstructive surgery I suppose.”

You roll your eyes. They’re still closed, but you hope he sees the motion anyway. “You’re being too nice to me. I know it’ll go away eventually, but it’s still not the same as when my skin is clear.”

“It’s not,” Remus allows. “Of course it’s not the same. But that’s like saying I’m not the same with my scars as I was without them. And I still managed to snag you all mangled-looking.”

You open your eyes, despite his hands still moving over your face. “You’re not mangled-looking,” you say. You know Remus knows this, but it feels important to tell him anyway. “I love you with your scars.”

He smiles softly, and you close your eyes again, satisfied. “Then you see what I’m getting at,” he says. “I love you like this, just the same as when your skin looked a bit different.” His touch arcs over your eyebrow. “And everyone else loves you just the same, too.”

You hum, a pleased sort of capitulation. “You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Doesn’t take much imagination to tell the truth.” You can hear Remus’ smile. “You’re always lovely, dove, but I like you best when you look like you feel lovely, too.”

“I’ll try,” you say. He hums satisfiedly, thumbs brushing twin paths across your cheeks. “Is there really still product to rub in?”

“Mm, not strictly speaking.” Remus’ lips press, soft and sweet, to your freshly moisturized cheek. He doesn’t seem to mind the bumps. “But I think I’d better do this a while longer just to be sure.”

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sansaorgana · 6 months ago

Note

what if benny heard his girl’s friend telling her about how she deserves better. he then notices his gf distancing herself from him because she starts having doubts about their relationship, and he’s not about to let her go that easily

hello 💚 thank you for your request! it turned out to be quite long (nearly 4,5k words) 😌 Benny & Reader are kinda toxic here lol 🤣 but in the movie he was such a red flag sometimes and his relationship with Kathy wasn't that healthy either, so I felt like exploring that trope. it has a happy ending, though! 💒

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

Whenever you were out with your friends, Benny was a big part of your conversations. They were either single or they dated boring men and you couldn’t help but brag a little to them about taming a man like Benny Cross.

Of course, sometimes you were jealous of the stability your friends had. But with Benny it was never boring and you had never had so many wild stories to tell before meeting him. You wore one of his rings proudly and with as much pride you had the Vandals Chicago small patch on your jeans jacket.

And today was no different – you arrived at Molly's place a little bit late by the bus but Benny was supposed to pick you up later. You fixed your hair and your jacket before getting inside the apartment building after some older lady who was walking inside. She looked you up and down and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the patch or the leather pants but you didn’t care either way. You were only wearing trousers these days because sitting in the back of the bike in a skirt or a dress was far from comfortable.

You knocked upon Molly’s door and she opened with a smile but you couldn’t help but notice that the way she looked at you was similar to the old lady’s gaze. And when you walked to the living room and waved at your other friends, they suddenly went quiet, which only meant one thing – they had been talking about you.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Barbara greeted you. “Has your boyfriend dropped you off?”

You furrowed your brows at her oddly mocking tone as other girls tried to hide a giggle.

“Hi, Barbs. No, he hasn’t,” you answered, pretending you hadn’t caught the rude undertone of her question. You sat on the armchair because you didn’t want to sit next to them on the couch.

Molly sat back there, right next to Ursula. On Barbara’s other side sat Susie.

“So, how’s life? What’s up?” You asked as usual, tapping your fingers on the wooden armrest of the armchair.

You hadn’t seen them in two months and they were your friends since high school. You were naturally interested in hearing their stories.

“Well, I got engaged!” Ursula announced and showed you the ring. Your eyes widened and you gave her a smile.

“Wow, ‘sula, that’s crazy. Congratulations, babe,” you winked at her. “That ring must have cost a fortune!”

“It certainly has. But you know, Dickie’s in the finance,” she reminded you but there was something contemptuous in her voice.

“I remember,” you only nodded. “When’s the wedding?”

“In July, we think,” Ursula answered. “I’m currently dress hunting. I was in the store the other day with the girls and…” She started and then she stopped talking as the other hissed at her.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Wait, what?” You raised an eyebrow. “You guys are seeing each other without me?” You swallowed thickly and waited for their answer.

It made sense, suddenly. Because you had used to meet every two weeks. But some time ago they had started to come with excuses that they were too busy to meet so often. Now the meetings were taking place once every two months. But… Perhaps it was this way only for you.

The girls looked at each other.

“Oh, please, (Y/N), it was only once,” Barbara quickly spoke up. “You were busy that day anyway. We knew about it so we didn’t even ask you.”

“How did you know I was busy?” You asked.

“We read in the paper that there had been a motorbike accident in the area. We assumed you were at the hospital,” Ursula explained and you nearly snorted at her stupid lie.

She was always the worst at coming up with lies on the go.

“This accident had nothing to do with Benny or anyone in our club for that matter,” you told her although you were sure there had been no accident even.

“Well, we thought…” Ursula started.

“Our club, huh?” Susie suddenly giggled. She was usually the quiet one but it made her pretty observant and she would always pick on the words.

You cracked a smile at that.

“Are you learnin’ how to drive a motorbike now? Is he gettin’ you one as well?” Molly teased.

“No,” you answered. “Anyway…” You tried to change the subject. “July is in three months. I gotta start hunting for a dress for the occasion, too. Is there a dress code?” You asked Ursula.

Ursula looked down and started to fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

“Actually…” Barbara took a deep breath in. “Ursula would like to tell you something but she’s scared…”

“So… We will do it for her,” Molly nodded.

You already knew what it was about and you tried your best to keep your smile on although all you wanted to was to cry.

Not even because you were losing the friendship of these girls – they were clearly treating you like shit anyway – but because it all felt so… humiliating. As if you were the village’s outcast all of the sudden. A local pariah.

“I’m not invited?” You crossed your arms.

“No! It’s not like that!” Ursula protested as she looked up to meet your gaze. “It’s… It’s about Benny. I don’t want him at my wedding. So… If you want to come, you are welcome to come alone,” she finished.

“Well, I’ll see if I can come. In July we are going for vacation anyway. The dates might interfere,” you explained with a shrug of your arms. That was a lie.

“Vacation? With Benny? Where?” Susie seemed to be interested now.

“A trip to Florida where his cousin lives,” you explained. At least that part about his cousin was true.

“Florida… Nice…” Barbara sighed and Molly pushed her with her elbow.

For the rest of the meeting, you were silent. Nodding your head at the things the girls were saying and faking laughs here and there, already coming up with the lies to tell them when they’d ask about you but… They never asked.

When they were in the middle of talking about some stupid movie, you all got startled at the sudden sound of the loud engine. All the girls gave you a dirty look as you chuckled.

“Sorry,” you put your hands up in the air. “It’s Benny. I gotta go now. It was nice to catch up with you,” you stood up and waved at them before going to the hall.

You didn’t feel like hugging them or anything like that. You just wanted to be out of the flat.

However, Molly followed you.

“I’ll walk you outside,” she proposed and you furrowed your brows at her but you nodded. She was your closest friend out of them all.

You took the lift downstairs and walked out of the apartment building. Benny’s motorbike was parked on the opposite side of the parking lot. He was leaning on it and smoking a cigarette.

“Wanna say hello to him?” You asked Molly, squinting your eyes at the sun as you put your hand over your forehead to create a shadow.

“Nah, I’m fine, babe,” Molly shook her head and put her hands inside the pockets of her cardigan. “But, you know, I gotta tell you something…” She continued to walk in the direction of Benny’s motorbike but her steps were small as her voice lowered.

“What is it?”

“You know I like you, (Y/N). I don’t like what’s happened to us. I mean, our friend’s group. You know why and what… Who is the reason,” Molly cleared her throat. “You’ve changed, too.”

“Shouldn’t it matter that I’m happy?” You asked her.

“But… Are you? Darling, is there any future in that?” She glanced at Benny who was observing you carefully but you were sure he was standing too far away to hear the whispers. “I just think you deserve better. We all do. Think about that, will you, doll?” Molly patted your arm before squeezing it in a friendly way and waving at you.

She turned around to hurry back inside the building right before the distance was close enough to greet Benny. It looked like she was avoiding him on purpose and she wasn’t even hiding that. It was rude.

You sighed and turned around to smile at your boyfriend.

“Hi, daddy-o. Sorry for making you wait,” you winked at him playfully. “Where are you takin’ me tonight?” You fixed his jacket and kissed his lips when he was not taking a drag of his cigarette.

“There’s a bonfire,” Benny mumbled out. “Hop on,” he pointed at the motorbike.

Benny’s hearing was not perfect after all the years of getting slaughtered by the roaring sound of the motorbikes’ engines. But he was an excellent lip reader – it was one of those useful skills he had learnt over the years. Benny was not a man of many words and he usually preferred to observe the environment around him. Reading lips was helpful for that.

You had been standing with your back turned to him so he had no idea what you had been answering to your friend’s words but he knew perfectly well what that girl had been saying. And then she had just looked him up and down and turned around, without even saying hi. Not that he cared to get a hi from a girl like her. And not that he wasn’t used to people treating him this way.

Still, it had planted an insecurity in his head. And now, during the bonfire, you were acting weird, too.

The sun was slowly going down on that day and a huge bonfire had been lit up. One of the guys had taken their radio and played rock and roll songs. There was lots of beer and a small barbecue and everything smelled like alcohol, sweat, meat and gasoline. After having a few beers, lots of boys were showing off their motorbike tricks, including jumping over the fire. The atmosphere was full of testosterone but most girls didn’t mind that. To date a biker, you had to be used to that. Constant risk, constant danger, constant adrenaline. You were sitting by the bonfire and watching the motorbike tricks as you were sipping on your diet coke through the straw. Benny was smoking a cigarette by one of the cars while he talked to his friends but he kept his eye on his girl and he knew you well enough to see that while the other girls were gossiping next to you, you didn't really pay attention as you were clearly dissociating.

When he finished his cigarette, he walked up to you and tugged on the sleeve of your jacket to make you stand up and follow him inside the house but you shrugged him off and looked away. Benny furrowed his brows but he didn’t give up.

“(Y/N), baby, come on,” he whined a little.

“Gee, Benny,” you rolled your eyes before looking up. “Can’t you see I’m talking to the girls?” You pointed out but the girls looked at you; confused at your words since you had been doing nothing but ignoring them for the past hour.

“I wanna talk to ya,” Benny insisted and you sighed.

“Excuse me, darlings,” you told the girls and put your empty bottle of soda on the ground before standing up and facing Benny.

You followed him in the direction of the house but instead of walking inside, Benny guided you to walk behind, where there was no one around.

“What is it?” You raised your eyebrow at him as you leaned on the wall behind you.

“I’m just wonderin’ why you’re acting like that,” Benny scratched himself behind his neck.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” Benny repeated and shrugged his arms. “Dunno, as if I have done somethin’ wrong. Have I?”

“No,” you answered but the answer was very fast and nearly harsh. “No…” You repeated and took a deep breath in as your face softened. “I’m just… That meeting with my friends was weird and I’m overthinkin’ some stuff. That’s it,” you explained. “‘sula’s getting married, you know?” You looked down and played with your foot, drawing circles on the ground with your boot.

Benny’s heart skipped a beat at the word married.

“Yeah?” He asked, trying to look into your eyes but you kept your gaze low.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “However, I ain’t invited,” you turned your head to look away as you crossed your arms.

“What? Why?” Benny furrowed his brow. He couldn’t understand that. He thought that you were pretty close to those girls.

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered and looked into his eyes. “I was thinkin’... Maybe we could go to Florida in July? To your cousin? I need a vacation, Benny.”

“Florida’s far away,” Benny shook his head. “The guys need me here.”

“Only for a short time…”

“Nah,” Benny insisted. “We can have a weekend by the lake if ya want to.”

“No,” you sighed. “Listen, I’m tired today, ‘kay?”

“‘kay,” Benny nodded awkwardly and hid his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “Wanna go home?”

“Yeah.”

Benny hoped that your odd behaviour would change on the next day but it did not. In the morning he didn’t find you in bed and when he walked downstairs, you were already dressed up and drinking coffee by the kitchen window.

“You up already?” He asked, surprised. “Workin’ today?”

“No. I just couldn’t sleep,” you told him without looking at him.

“What’s for breakfast?” He asked and looked around the kitchen.

“I had pancakes. You can have whatever you want,” you pointed out and he was a bit taken aback by that response.

Not that he minded making breakfast for himself but you had always been doing it for him ever since he moved to your place.

“Are you angry at me, kitty?” Benny asked, carefully, as he approached the fridge to take a look inside to see what he could eat.

He decided on scrambled eggs as he grabbed a few from the fridge. He put some butter on the pan and heated it up but there was still no answer from you.

“Kitty?” He cleared his throat and turned his head around to look at you.

You took one last sip of your coffee and stood up with a sigh. You put the coffee cup inside the sink and walked past him.

“I’m going to spend a day with my ma,” you told him.

“With your ma?” Benny furrowed his brows. He didn’t like it when you were going to your mum.

Not because he had something against you spending time with your family. But he knew that your mum absolutely hated his guts and she was begging you to dump him each time you were seeing her. For you to meet with her today – a day after your friend had told you that you deserved better… Well, it was not looking good for Benny.

“Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” you told him and then you left the kitchen. A few seconds later, he heard the front door closing.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered to himself.

It was late afternoon, nearly evening already, when you came back home. Now, after the meeting with your mum, your head was full of doubts and insecurities about your relationship.

You loved Benny but was it possible that this relationship was really a doomed affair? All your friends were leaving you behind and treating you like your Vandals patch was a scarlet letter. Your mother was begging you all the time to leave Benny behind because he was “no good for you, baby”. It was annoying but she had every reason to be worried – Benny was trouble. He cost you a lot of money, too, when it came to the lawyers, hospitals and the bills. He didn’t even have a steady job. And all of that for what…? There was not even a ring on your fucking finger.

He would drive around all day and then get drunk at the bonfires. That was all he wanted to do. Was he even treating you seriously? Was he planning to settle down with you? That was doubtful.

You walked inside the house and closed the door loudly behind you before going to the bathroom to wash your hands. Then you took a deep sigh at the sight of your tired face in the mirror and you went inside the living room where Benny was watching TV. He looked up at you and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his baby blue eyes that looked extremely sad.

“Hi, baby. Had a good day?” He asked.

“Yeah. You?” You kept standing above him.

“Not really,” Benny admitted. “But, hey, it doesn’t matter, yeah? I called my cousin,” he told you and you raised an eyebrow. “I asked him if we could visit him in July and he said that it’s fine.”

Benny swallowed thickly and waited for your response, staring up at you like a puppy. You took a deep breath in and eventually nodded at him with a sigh before sitting next to him on the couch.

“What you watchin’?” You asked him.

“Some stupid movie,” he shrugged. “You happy about Florida?”

“Yeah,” you answered.

But just because he had done something like this once, it didn’t mean that everything was suddenly okay.

“You haven’t worn your jacket with the patch today,” Benny pointed out awkwardly.

“My ma would kill me!” You chuckled at that with an eye-roll.

Long silence occurred after that. You were both staring at the TV and only pretending to watch the movie. Eventually, Benny moved in closer and put his arm around you. You flinched a little bit but you didn’t move away as your eyes filled with tears.

You loved him. You wanted this relationship to work but... Sometimes love was not enough. Especially when only one person was putting effort.

“I’m sorry I’m not good enough for ya, baby,” Benny whispered into your ear and you froze at his words. He kissed your cheek delicately and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. “I’m tryin’ my best,” he assured you. “But your friend was right. You deserve better.”

“Benny? What are you talking about? You heard Molly?” You turned your head around and lifted his chin to look up at you.

“Nah. I can read from the lips,” he shrugged and your heart pounded faster in your chest. “Don’t worry, I ain’t angry at ya. She was right. I’m just angry at her for making you realise that.”

You clenched your jaw, not knowing what to say. Somehow, you wanted to comfort him but… There were some things you wanted to say first.

“It’s not your fault. You’re just this way,” you caressed his cheek gently. “I don’t think you’re not enough. Maybe it’s me asking for too much. I knew who you were and what you were like when I took you in. I should have known what to expect,” you shrugged. “You’re just…” Your voice trembled and Benny furrowed his brows at you. “You’re just gonna drive away one day, right?”

“What are you talking about?” He shook his head.

“You’re a free spirit, Benny. You’re just gonna hop on the bike and disappear and I’ll be left with the mess to clean and the pieces to pick up. And I was trying not to get too attached but I have. And in return… In return you can’t even make me breakfast. Not even once!” You suddenly snapped as his eyes widened. “I wake up in the morning and make you breakfast every day. I go to work and earn money… Just to spend it later on some shitty lawyers after you get arrested, feeling guilty that I can’t afford a better one. Jesus, and now I can’t even go to my friend’s wedding just because she doesn’t want you there and, guess what, I don’t want to go there alone!” You raised your voice but then you sniffled your tears back and softened again. “I just… I just wish I knew that you were as serious about me as I am about you. That’s it.”

Benny moved uncomfortably and moved his arm away from your shoulder. He took a deep breath in and nodded his head.

“Ya think I’m just gonna drive away one day and leave you without a word?” He asked. “I mean… Yeah, I might. Because I’m clearly a burden. I’m gonna leave, that’s gonna be for the better,” he agreed with you but you could see his jaw clenching and eyes blinking away the fresh tears.

“I didn’t say that you were a burden, Benny,” you tried to explain but he stood up already and went up the stairs.

You followed him and you caught him packing his bag in your bedroom. You leaned on the doorframe and watched him.

“You can’t be serious, Benny. Why can’t we just have a normal conversation about it instead of you running away from the responsibility? You’re kinda provin’ my point at the moment, you know that?” You told him.

“Don’t wanna be a burden,” he insisted and you took a deep breath in before approaching him.

You put your hands on his arms and he flinched a little but he didn’t push you off. However, he kept on packing his things.

“Benny, baby, please, let’s just talk about it, okay?” You tried to talk to him in a soft voice as if he was a wild animal.

In many ways, he was.

“I even called my cousin an’ all that!” He suddenly turned around to look into your eyes. He was visibly angry but at the same time his eyes were glossy. “You wanted a fuckin’ vacation in Florida, so I called and got us a fuckin’ vacation,” he added.

“And I am grateful, baby, I am,” you assured him and placed your hands on his chest. You felt how fast his heart was beating and you caressed him there as if you were trying to soothe his heartbeat itself. “But that’s just… That’s like one time when you show me you’re treatin’ me serious.”

“I’m not treatin’ you serious enough, you say, huh?” Benny straightened his back and looked down at you. “But if I asked you to marry me, you wouldn’t say yes, right? ‘Cuz I ain’t no good enough, am I right?”

You were taken aback by those words. You blinked a few times, very slowly.

“Wha-what are you talking about, Benny?” You tilted your head.

“I wanna make you my wife,” he answered, seriously. “Wanted you as my Mrs. ever since I saw ya,” he confessed. “But I ain’t good enough…” He shook his head and looked away. “And I’ll never be for ya.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as well. You bit on your lower lip and focused hard on overthinking his words. Suddenly, all your insecurities and doubts had disappeared. Your whole body was filled with butterflies.

Gee, yeah, he was… Different from the most. But he was special, too. And he was your Benny. You would never trade him for a man like Patrick for example – Ursula’s fiancé in finance. You would die of boredom with a guy like him. With Benny even those arguments that you were having with him were exciting. The way he was packing his bags or you were threatening to leave every other day, the way you were smashing plates sometimes, the way a phone call from the police station would wake you up in the middle of the night... It was making you feel alive.

“Oh, Benny!” You felt tears of happiness streaming down your cheeks and he looked at you again, confused. “Yes!” You jumped into his arms and he picked you up instinctively. “Yes, yes, yes!” You added and cupped his face to pepper it with dozens of tiny little kisses. “I’m gonna marry you, baby! Even tomorrow! Even now!”

Benny chuckled at that and kissed your lips properly as you put your hands behind his neck.

“So, you just wanted a ring, my moody kitty, huh?” He teased playfully and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

You arrived at Molly’s place and knocked upon the door, fixing your jeans jacket. She opened the door and invited you in as usual.

It was a month since your last meeting with the girls. They looked you up and down as usual these days but then they furrowed their brows at the sight of your huge grin. Molly entered the living room behind you and took a seat on the couch, looking up at you with a questioning look.

“I have something to tell you,” you told them with a smug smile.

They looked at each other.

“You dumped him?” Barbara asked, excitedly.

“He knocked you up?” Molly, on the other hand, was rather scared.

“Don’t be daft. She wouldn’t be so happy then!” Susie pointed out. Clever as usual.

“I got married!” You exclaimed and showed them your hand with two new additions. A pretty engagement ring that you had chosen for yourself in the pawn shop and a brand new wedding band.

You watched with satisfaction how their mouths dropped. Ursula especially seemed to be butthurt, since you had managed to get married before her.

“And how’s dress hunting, ‘sula?” You teased her.

“I still don’t have a dress,” she admitted. You could see her jaw clenching. “And what were you wearing?”

“A short babydoll,” you answered and sat on the armchair nonchalantly.

“Why haven’t you told us?!” Molly asked and you looked at her as if she was crazy.

“Sorry, but… I don’t know how to say it… Benny and the other guys from the club…” You pretended to sound sad. “Well, they didn’t want you girls around, I hope you understand. No outsiders, you know,” you told them.

It was a lie, of course. None of them would have minded your friends coming. But the wedding had taken place a day after your argument with Benny anyway. There had been no time to send out invitations.

“That’s crazy,” Susie commented and you gave her a smug look.

“Gonna tell you somethin’ crazier,” you chuckled and she raised her eyebrows, curiously. “He got my name tatted right on his heart.”

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*benny #austin butler x reader #benny cross x reader #lilysfiction

411 notes · View notes

tragedy-of-commons · 16 days ago

Text

HOMECOMING.

── dan heng x gn!reader

summary: Your boyfriend invites you to spend Christmas break with him and his eccentric (but lovable all the same) family. You oblige.

contains: modern and university au, established relationship, comedy and tooth-rotting fluff, christmas shopping, the astral express fam all make appearances (pre-2.7), setting is very american-inspired (sorry), cringefail exuberant reader, one hurt/comfort scene

word count: 11.4k oops

taglist: @singularity-sam, @mitsvriii, @tetrachrxmacy, @bladism, @mikashisus

notes: for @azuresaqua, written for the @/stellaronhvnters secret santa 🎄 this took all month, but i hope you like it crys!! also this totally looks fine on dark mode. if you think otherwise then ummm SHHH. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

Your phone blares with its usual grating ringtone, startling you out of your reverie.

Scrambling to pick the device up, you’re pleasantly surprised. So much so that you drop the sweatshirt in your free hand mid-fold. The caller ID reads Dan Heng, lighting up your homescreen with his contact icon.

A warmth buzzes in your chest as you look it over, a giggle erupting from your throat. The selfie is of you and him, with Dan Heng looking particularly spacey in the midst of the bustling street.

You’re now considerably less bored. You’ve been looking for an excuse to procrastinate doing your laundry all day, and it just so happens to entail talking with your lovely partner. Not waiting any longer, you clear your throat, tap the green accept button, and press the speaker to your ear.

“Hi, darling!” you chirp, shifting to sit more comfortably, “I miss you. How’re you holding up? Still in the library studying the day away?”

The other line crackles with life. “Hello. I feel the same,” Dan Heng informs you matter-of-factly, his cadence clear as a river. “And no, I’m not there anymore. It was… too crowded for my liking.”

That’s no surprise. Finals are upon the whole campus in a few days, and it shows. There is a distinct, depressing atmospheric pressure that weighs upon your fellow students.

The scourge of exams, the final boss of the semester, the enemy of mental fortitude and peace. Though Dan Heng loves your university’s expansive library, you can imagine he’d be less enthralled when a hundred tired young adults are populating it to cram.

“Yeah, I can imagine,” you wince. “Well, look on the bright side. We’re almost done, yeah? Soon enough, the library will be solely your domain once again, and you can be a doll and skim the archives in my stead.”

His voice takes on a sarcastic lilt, affection hidden underneath the words like a hard-won reward. You think it’s an indulgence for him. “If my memory serves correctly, I had to smooth things over with the librarian on your behalf. I don’t think it’s a wise idea for you to loiter there any longer, as energetic as you are.”

How cheeky! Honestly, you’re not even that loud. Sometimes you laugh a little too hard at benign things (like the way some book titles sound out of context), or react too vibrantly at the wrong times (like exclaiming profanities after tripping over your own feet), but those aren’t crimes.

Even now, ruminating over this reasoning, you still don't understand how you got banned from the library. Unreal.

“Hey, come on now! I don’t even loiter… I just want to spend time with you, even if studying isn’t something I burden myself with. That guy has it out for me,” you insist, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. “Anyway, I’m not saying this to be rude, but…”

“But?” Dan Heng asks cautiously.

“You normally don’t call first. Is everything okay?”

You mean it when you ask. Though you love your boyfriend, he isn’t the best at initiating longform communication. Sometimes you’ll get a text with a link to a video he found interesting, or he’ll update you with life (mostly just classes and endless papers), and then you’ll respond by quadruple-texting and then maybe calling him. For hours. And then asking to come over to his dorm. And then falling asleep with him. All at your request, which he doesn’t seem to mind.

That being said, it’s atypical that he takes up the mantle, which makes you worry. And if you worry, Dan Heng feels guilty. Trying not to be patronizing, you patiently wait for him to speak on his own terms, humming to yourself idly. You could, y’know, do your laundry, but you’re not gonna do that. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” he assures, words measured. “I just have something I’d like to run by you, but I didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy.”

“I’m never busy! Spill!” Extremely curious, you pluck your phone from your ear and put Dan Heng on speaker. While you’re at it, you also stand up and pace the short length from your bed to the door of your suite, clothes abandoned on the floor.

“It’s about this winter break. We haven’t conferred on plans yet, but I was planning to ask you if you’d meet my… my family. Of course, it all depends on your availability - don’t feel too rushed to answer, I’d just like to know in advance so I can get things in order on my end.”

Woah, what just happened? You stop walking to think, gears spinning and grinding and pushing all sorts of implications. His family.

Dan Heng has one, yes, he divulges details every once in a while and elaborates on his mishmash of a homelife when you ask, but you’ve never heard him refer to these mystical figures as family. They’ve always been referred to as my friend, followed by their name. You know them well, committing each to memory despite not having met them yet: March, Caelus, Welt, and Himeko.

Of course, you pester your boyfriend about them. Nothing too invasive, just remembering the important details. Asking for updates about March’s creative ventures or inquiring if Himeko’s coffee has gotten any more palatable, to name a few.

In turn, Dan Heng would make a comment about how they also pester him about you. It’s like a big game of telephone - this indirect communication is what you’re used to. It’s kind of surreal to think about actually meeting them after all this time.

Then the joy comes. He wants to share this part of his life with you. Is this the natural next step in your relationship, like all seasoned married couples fondly reflect back on? Dan Heng wants to spend three and half weeks with you, uninterrupted, at home. His home.

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them away, grinning like an absolute fool. Does he really think you’ll say no? You’d already do anything to make him happy. Despite being several buildings and crosswalks away from him right now, your hearts feel impossibly close together.

(It’s not like you have anything else planned.)

That thought is pushed away as quickly as it comes. No time for you to be bitter when it’s the season of giving and all things cheerful! This opportunity is nothing short of a blessing… you’re saved from being cramped up inside the inevitably deserted hall for the entirety of break. You’re saved from having to admit to Dan Heng that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do like everyone else.

Shock, joy, relief.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, breathy. With a repressed-young-man-trained-ear, you catch a soft sigh of relief dissipating on the other line. “Yes, of course I want to meet them! Dude, this is so exciting! What if I died? What if I blew up the entirety of campus in my merriment? What then?”

He is far too used to your theatrics to react too strongly to them at this point. “...I wouldn’t put it past you. But I’m glad you said yes. There’s just the issue of details to work out.”

Dan Heng proposes different times on different days to leave. Well, he probably went more in depth than that - he likes to schedule and plan for the future, even if he doesn’t always stick to those self-imposed regulations in the end - probably droning on about the cost of gas or something. But you’re way too shell-shocked to respond coherently, muffling squeals and noncommittal hums that give away exactly how much you’re not paying attention.

Digesting about half of the information, you bring up what you have left to do before winter break after he does the same: registration for next semester’s classes, turning in textbooks for certain courses (thank the stars renting is affordable here), and the remaining days riddled with finals.

Despite how daunting these tasks are for others, you find yourself enjoying the denouement. Guessing on scantrons has gotten you pretty far, and the other obligations can be swiftly eliminated through sheer will and lots of Christmas music. Your Spotify listening history must look like some kind of tinsel-festooned warzone.

This will be your first ever Christmas with Dan Heng. He’s never been extremely festive by any means, but you cajoled him into a matching Halloween costume a month ago, and he is fond of horror movies despite how silly they can be, offering little bits of trivia or his critiques on the film’s score.

You think this holiday, spent at his home, in his hometown - will be the source of many happy memories. It’ll also, hopefully, be another endless source of teasing.

Images flit through your mind, the most notable of which being your stoic boyfriend in a truly hideous red and green sweater. You snicker to yourself until your amusement is disturbed by Dan Heng promptly clearing his throat.

He says your name in that soft way that makes you weak in the knees. You’re under his spell just as much as he is under yours. You should take to reminding him of that more often. “Just to be clear, is this alright with you?”

It’s so much more than alright, you think. Winter, for all of its bitter cold and unforgiving responsibilities, still teems with life as the leaves die. For every day you’ve spent alone during the last two Christmases, you’ll be repaid with one in kind spent with Dan Heng and the people he trusts most.

You’re blessed with the sweet thought that you’re now a part of those treasured, trustworthy few as well.

You know you’ve been treasured for a long time, but feeling it actualized, solidified in action, is as homey and warm as a burning hearth.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “I am, darling. I’m so excited that I think I’m shaking!”

You tighten your grip on your phone, almost leaving indents in the shitty case, attempting to still your vibrating fingers. His response is a mumble along the lines of you should probably eat something, and I’m glad. Dan Heng can be a little awkward, especially over the phone, but that just speaks of his sincerity. He’s glad you’re coming.

You scuttle over to the window beside your bed, yanking the blinds askew to peek outside. A glimpse of the first frost coating the student parking lot promises something more. Something magical and childlike.

Joy. You have a feeling you’re going to be extremely insufferable to any and all scrooges (people rightfully sick of dealing with your chipper attitude) in the coming days. Oh well, they can suck it up because it’s the most wonderful time of the year, and you’re in love with the most amazing person in the world.

You tell him not to worry, which he sighs at, and then the brunt of the conversation is over. The following silence is calm but electric, dragging on for just the right amount of time. A well-deserved respite, you think.

“I love you,” you confess.

“...I love you too. Touch base soon.”

With that, the call ends abruptly. Your cheeks feel hot and you’re reinvigorated, daydreaming of Dan Heng’s expressions obscured by distance - you want nothing more than to see him, but you know your partner well enough to realize when he needs a break; to realize when he needs his alone time. You would never begrudge him for it.

That was a fucking whirlwind.

You shove your phone in your pocket after nudging the blinds back in place. There’s so much to do, and you’re definitely gonna need another run-down of the schedule (preferably in person), but for now, you’ll let yourself be over the moon and overrun with task paralysis.

Triumphantly, you turn to flip off your abandoned pile of laundry. Free will is so cool and awesome.

“We are so back!”

You’re so impatient that you’ve started counting the hours.

The final stretch is a lot more boring than you thought it was going to be. Picking a time to check out of your dorm, fixing up any scuffs on the walls from your shitty posters before room inspection, actually passing your classes. The normal stuff.

Both you and Dan Heng decided that you would leave at around three in the morning on the first day of break. It sounded bewildering at first, and you had levelled him with a look that made him hurriedly elaborate.

“In order to get there at a reasonable time, it’s the best way to go,” he’d said over coffee. “The drive isn’t more than a few hours, but if we leave right after routine inspection, we’d be arriving in the middle of the night.”

Though the mental image of showing up on a quaint little home’s doorstep in your pajamas and waking up the whole neighborhood with your knocking is funny, it’s not funny enough to quell your nerves.

You’ve noticed, usually in the midst of trying to be productive, that the excitement is weighing heavily on your heart. Your hands are perpetually shaky, you’re sweating disgusting buckets, and you’re sure you look as if you’ve lost your marbles to any soul brave enough to strike up conversation.

That last part came to your attention when Bronya, your desk neighbor in your Interpersonal Communications class, dared ask you if she could borrow a pencil. She barely got the question out before she asked if you were alright. And if Bronya asks you if you’re alright, it means that you must look terrible.

Sure enough, you are getting less and less sleep, and you’ve been prone to twitching. In retrospect, you probably had that wild look in your eye that screamed I am at rock bottom and it’s in the public’s best interest that I’m contained.

But you’re not at rock bottom! You’re just nervous, and it’s weird when you’re nervous, because such an occurrence is as rare as a blue moon. You’re going to be meeting Dan Heng’s family in a matter of days, and you’re expected to behave as a normal, functioning member of society. Unbelievable. Even the love of your life has noticed the difference in your behavior - he seems disturbed but respectful.

You recall him asking if you were ill, which you had vehemently denied. Then he kissed you under the thin covers of his bed, and everything was fine for a moment.

But you think you’re feeling better on this day in particular. To distract yourself from the anxiety, you’ve sunk deeper into the holiday cheer. With Dan Heng at your side, you’ve blown off classes for the day to go gift shopping. The outlet mall near your university is always bustling, but during this time of year, you’d think there’s an overpopulation crisis wreaking havoc on your city.

Escalators are crammed with excited children dragging their parents along, there are decorations painstakingly put up in every nook and cranny, and you have a mission to see through.

“Thanks for ditching to help me out,” you preface. “It’d be way too difficult to shop for your family on my own. Just the idea of stress-buying things they may not even like… ugh. Also, wow! I realized you haven’t told me jack shit about them! I’m actually clueless.”

Dan Heng is not amused, but he doesn’t outright refute your assertion. “I suppose you have a point. And I didn’t ditch class,” he emphasizes, ears red. “Psychology got canceled.”

Here, among the sea of people, Dan Heng looks his least confident. While you, the person known for befriending every stray cat you meet, look your best.

The juxtaposition makes you feel fuzzy, and you know in your heart that he would've helped you anyway, even if he had class. He can be so obvious but so subtle at the same time. You tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt once, purely affectionate.

“Right. Uh, where do we start? Who’s the easiest to shop for?” you wonder aloud, crossing the stretches of marble and doing your best to peer down the massive store-lined strip. “We could start with March. She’s into crafty stuff, right?”

Your boyfriend tames a cowlick in his dark hair. “Yes. You seem to have a plan figured out already, but she uses up heaps of film while taking photos. An arts and crafts store would likely have the 600 type for her Polaroid. That’s what I had in mind in terms of a gift she’d appreciate.”

“We seem to be on the same page, but that just sounds so… impersonal! Bit of a safe choice, don’t you think? Let’s play it by ear and see what they have. I’m sure she’d also appreciate something handmade. I think I have enough time to DIY a gift; they probably have kits for all sorts of stuff.”

Dan Heng is starting off in the direction of the correct storefront. The display window is easily spotted, plastered with all kinds of paper mache ornaments. “You don’t need to fret. Knowing her, she’ll love anything that comes from you.”

You blink, grinning. “Really? Didn’t know I was so popular.”

“You have no idea,” sighs Dan Heng.

Warmly titled Make n’ Create, the door chimes, signifying your entry. Immediately, you’re assaulted by the smell of candles - a few hundred thousand, you hazard.

Scents of vanilla and evergreen paired with cinnamon burn your nostrils as you survey the aisles of winding shelves overflowing with endless possibilities. Almost forgetting to return the greeting of the woman behind the counter, you snap out of your stupor and drag your boyfriend along.

Everything looks enticing… your savings account is telling you to be responsible, but your heart is telling you to snatch up and squirrel away any item of interest just in case. You wander the marble floor under the bright fluorescents, humming under your breath. “Hey, we can probably save some time and split up. Could you go look for the film? We’ll definitely get that along with whatever catches my eye.”

Relieved to have something to do, Dan Heng nods and disembarks from your side, perilously weaving between other shoppers buzzing with excitement. He mentioned that he deliberately put off Christmas shopping since you insisted on doing it together, the thought alone satisfying.

The prospect of scrawling both of your names on the same box, passed off into eager hands. The words will read From: Dan Heng and his partner.

Rounding a corner, the pottery and ceramics section calls to you like a siren. There are stocks upon stocks of white, unpainted Christmas trees and wreaths, advertised as blank canvases to decorate as your own - paint included. Those are cute, but something relevant year-round would probably be received better.

Impressions, impressions. Your gaze drops lower, dutifully searching…

Aha!

Ceramic jewelry dishes. Same gimmick as the trees and wreaths, but not necessarily seasonal. There are a few different types among the kits - heart-shaped, some with hinges that open and close, even some with music box elements with heftier price tags.

Your intuition slaps you across the face multiple times. March will love one of these, you just know it! Cautious, you spare a shifty glance from left to right before squealing to yourself. The package in your hand is crisp and promising as you check over the price and instructions.

Dan Heng returns to witness your perfect find. You know this because you recognize the soft padding of his footsteps anywhere (which is not creepy). You turn to see him and the fond look in his eye - and the aforementioned packages of film he’s clutching.

“Hey, you,” you chuckle. “You found it, great! Anyway, look what I stumbled upon. Do you think she’ll--” “Yes,” he breathes, suddenly decisive. “She will. Especially the heart one.”

Quickly heeding the ever-rare suggestion from Dan Heng, you discard the now inferior package and seize the heart-shaped one. “I trust your judgment. She has good taste, honestly. Thanks for your help, love, I appreciate it. I know for a fact she likes pink, and though my hands are a little clumsy… I’ll make a masterpiece outta this, trust me.”

He exhales through his nose. That’s a laugh if you’ve ever heard one. “You sound so resolute…”

“Duty-bound, if you will,” you grin. “We can move on to the next place if you’d like. Didn’t expect to be done here so fast.”

“...wait.”

You tilt your head, following his line of sight back to the shelves. He seems transfixed on something else there, and a few seconds go by in silence as you’re left to figure out what it is on your lonesome.

Dan Heng has gotten better at speaking his mind - he was never bad at it, but sometimes words get tangled up in his reticent hesitation. You understand this well. So, you try to determine what’s caught his eye. The understanding you come to is a nice one. The lowest rung of the shelf, almost overshadowed, are more ceramics - no surprise there. But it feels like fate the way that they’re displayed; two sturdy coffee cups with intricate handles, then a miniature raccoon forever inlaid with a devilish expression, practically commanding a paintbrush to make its mischievous grin come to life with color.

Himeko, Welt, Caelus.

You laugh, loud and bright, grabbing your boyfriend’s hand with a conspiratorial grin. “Four birds with one stone, huh? We’re gonna need a cart!”

Dan Heng is blushing. It’s subtle, not at all burning or obvious to any nosy bystanders, but it’s enough to make your heart sing with delight. You take it he’s glad that you picked up on his thoughts so wordlessly.

He excuses himself after muttering something about going to get the cart while you smile like an idiot. A lovestruck idiot. A lovestruck idiot with a soon-to-be overdrawn bank account.

…well, not exactly. After you gather everything and go to check out, he insists on paying for all of it. You make sure to argue with him in front of the very amused cashier, reaching a compromise in no time at all thanks to your amazing negotiation skills. He’ll pay for this load (whatever), and you’ll pay for any remaining splurges today. It’s only natural you need to stop by a few more places, considering March has two gifts while the others only have one.

By the time Dan Heng’s social battery is drained and yours is frayed, you have everything. An apparel outlet that you would’ve never stepped foot in normally now has your patronage; a golden brooch in the shape of a rose (that’s surprisingly affordable) for Himeko, a classy but patterned tie for Welt, and a trendy jacket for Caelus.

You think you’re the most jealous of that last one - it has many pockets and takes up enough space to suffocate a small orphan.

Hauling the bags into the icy parking lot, you suddenly stop in your tracks, feeling the generous weight of your spending in the process. “Hold on.”

Your tired but loving partner heeds your command. “What? Is something the matter?”

“We forgot to shop for each other,” you point out, sheepish and breathy. Seems you’ve both been so caught up in the tradewinds that you forgot. “Should we go back inside?”

“No,” he blurts, “I’ve already acquired your gift.”

Gobsmacked, you almost drop your share of the bags. He’s been holding out on you?! The surprise quickly fades into mushy limerence before it dulls. “Huh? When did you do that? Oh shit, I haven’t gotten you anything yet… dude, I’m sorry, I’ll head back inside, all secret mission-esque and find you something while you wait in the car--”

Dan Heng shakes his head. “You… you don’t have to.”

The hell? Does he even know how Christmas works? “Of course I do, come on,” you push forward. Knowing you’ve already forgotten where you’ve parked, he strides out in front of you and leads the way, preparing to argue his case. “We’ll put these in the back, and I’ll find you an amazing gift, you’ll see.”

You both reach his little beat-up sedan (which you’ve aptly named Granny), while he fumbles for his keys. He sighs, rolling the frigid joints in his shoulders as he opens the driver’s seat to unlock the trunk. Setting the bags down on the gross pavement is unfortunately inevitable. You throw the thing open, already loading.

Dan Heng’s rebuttal is almost startling.

“I don’t need an ‘amazing gift’. I have you.”

You freeze. Where did he pull that from? Are you hallucinating again? Is this like the time you stayed up for two days straight to half-ass a dozen unfinished assignments? Or maybe it’s selective hearing… such a line is probably from an old romcom that you’re mentally regurgitating and then projecting onto him.

But you don’t tease or ask him to repeat it. Instead, you choose to fully believe and embrace that compliment, warming your heart and your cheeks. His expression is obscured from your position, but he probably looks the same.

“I’m… really glad you think so, Dan Heng,” you almost whisper.

Before he can say anything else that’ll ruin the moment, you decide that’s your job! and slam the trunk closed, deafeningly loud.

“But that’s unacceptable! I’ll find you something perfect in the coming days no matter what!”

You hear him sigh before you hear his approaching footsteps. “Try not to stress too hard about it. Also, open that back up, there are more bags.”

“Oops,” you giggle. “Why not ask me nicely, like in that Romeo way you did five seconds ago?”

Your other half rightfully elects to ignore you.

As you finish wrapping up with him at your side, the subsequent ride back to campus is in comfortable silence. The buzz of what’s to come lingers on your mind as you stare out of the passenger window at the familiar scenery. You’ll find time to squeeze in finding a gift for Dan Heng, you’ll make sure of it.

But for now, what to pack for the impending trip…?

You wake to the sound of your blaring alarm. Scrambling for your phone to make the thing shut up, you’re blinded by the time. It’s 2:30 in the morning, you’re disoriented, and you desperately want to go back to sleep. But when you really come to a minute later after hitting snooze, it all sinks in.

Your room inspection is over with, your finals have been taken (you didn’t fail any of them, yay), and you have to leave campus with Dan Heng in about thirty minutes. Surreal that you’re awake at this hour, you go about getting ready - this includes texting the man of the hour to make sure he didn’t oversleep.

To your satisfaction, he responds swiftly. To your horror, he mentions that he’s ready and waiting. Unfair, in your opinion - why is he always punctual, and why are you always late?

You look in the mirror at your haphazard reflection. Not too shabby; just a leisure t-shirt and some sweatpants, pulled together by the thickest jacket you have since it’s grown even colder out. Your bags are already packed and practically bursting at the seams, loaded with your essentials, and of course the presents for Dan Heng’s family.

You spent all of your free time crammed between everything else painting the ceramics while he wrapped and made everything else look pretty.

(You almost got crudely mixed pink paint on your dorm wall - well, you did just a little bit. Luckily it came off without the need to go sprinting to the nearest hardware store in pursuit of a cover-up job. That would have been bad. Very bad. Also, you left the primary suite door open to ventilate, and at least three students walking down the hallway witnessed your perfectionism-driven breakdown. Also, your suitemate hates you now.)

All of that’s over, though. Making sure you have everything once, then twice, then three whole times - you decide it’s finally time to go. You lug everything out of your dorm, down the hallway, into the elevator, and wait as it descends.

You check your phone, updating your boyfriend as the cabin grinds to a halt on the ground floor. Outside is nothing short of beautiful, if not hypothermic.

Snow falls in tiny flurries that make the dark cement purgatory look like a dream. The floodlights leave some corners of the parking lot shadowed, but illuminate Dan Heng just right. You spot him and his old ass car smack dab in the middle of all the empty spaces, just about everyone having vacated already.

“Hi, darling,” your breath syncs with the air as a wispy cloud. You kiss his cheek. “You ready?”

“I have been for the better part of an hour,” he informs you, perhaps a little grumpy from waking up so early - or it could just be that wry sarcasm rearing its head.

You find that Dan Heng is neither an early bird nor a night owl, oscillating between the two like nobody’s business. He’s up when he needs to be, including now, softened under the touch of your lips.

And so, without much fanfare, the road trip commences. It’s notably different than the other times he’s chauffeured you around - so silent and grave. It kind of puts a damper on the Christmas spirit you’ve so painstakingly adopted, but you think twice about cranking the radio. He is the one driving, after all.

You offered to switch with him halfway, and to his credit, he thought about it. But then Dan Heng politely shook his head and muttered something about bad weather and hydroplaning. Whatever a hydroplane is, you aren’t sure what it has to do with you being untrustworthy behind the wheel.

The pleasant blast of the heater, the occasional robotic warbling from the GPS app, and the noise of the light drizzle outside are your more talkative companions. You’re getting antsy; you feel it in the bouncing of your leg and how you mindlessly chew on the dead skin of your bottom lip.

Should you try to ignore it? Put on your headphones and tune out? The thought is appealing.

Instead, you pipe up a few minutes before you’re due to turn on the interstate.

“Wanna get coffee?” you singsong. “I mean, you especially are going to need the caffeine to keep awake. Sleep deprivation is, like, the number three reason people get into car crashes.”

Dan Heng huffs in amusement. You’re glad that got some kind of reaction out of him, glad that the stoney silence has been broken. But if you’re being completely honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), this detour suggestion is just an excuse to delay the inevitable. For all of your joy, lingering anxiety chips away at your trademark smirk.

You decide to bribe him just a little. “I’m buying.”

He turns into the nearest place without any further prodding. The coffee, which you have successfully paid for by the way, is nice. The searing light of the menu options, clambering over Dan Heng to place your orders as loud as you can because you know it’s hard for them to hear anything - fleeting memories of taking orders at your high school part-time job and all that.

As you take the cup holder tray from your partner, ferried through the drive thru window, he speaks up, much to your chagrin.

“You’re nervous,” he says, leaving no room for doubt. You continue to situate the drinks and glance into the side view mirror, taking a sudden rapt interest in the line forming behind you.

You decide to lie. Maybe he’ll be merciful and let you work this one out on your own. “Me? Nervous? Whatever gives you that impression? Perhaps you needed the coffee more than I thought… poor Dan Heng, so tired that he’s hallucinating…” you whistle.

Gaslighting, unfortunately, doesn’t work. Persuasion check must’ve rolled off. Dan Heng says your name, soft but stilted in a way that makes your heart ache. He rolls out of the drive thru after checking the rearview mirror, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. They gain their color back after he realizes you’re staring at them.

“I’m nervous too. Extremely.” You’re back on the highway, and you fiddle with the GPS to get yourself back en route, taking in his words as they come. Dan Heng is being candid with you; encouraging. “Going back home is always an… ordeal.”

You deflate a bit, conflict warring on your face. Considering how flustered he gets when you dote on him, albeit within his limits, you can’t imagine how exhausting being fussed at from all angles would be. Not like he’s a kid, but that he’s returning home after another semester of being independent.

“Yeah, um, I can imagine. I don’t know much about that stuff, but it’ll probably be amplified with me coming with you. We’ll get through it together and have a great time.”

You say it to convince yourself more than him, but it works. Perhaps that was his plan all along?

“Yes,” agrees Dan Heng. “We will.”

The interstate stretch, predictably, is the most sizable chunk of the trip. Temptation whispers in your ears tantalizingly, the idea of a nap or two at the forefront of your sleep-addled mind. The soft pitter-patter of the rain against the windshield battling with the snow makes it even harder to resist.

So, you doze soundly in your reclined seat, nice and warm. You think you feel a hand, cold and calloused, brushing against your cheek, but fighting it would require waking up to demand he focus on the road! It retracts, and you’re out for a good long while.

You know that for a fact, because when you wake up, dawn is encroaching. The stars are still visible against the bleeding horizon. You feel much better, even if Dan Heng suppresses a smile at your expense - you seriously must look wrecked from a few simple hours of rest. Geez.

You yawn, waking up to chat. Your boyfriend looks unruffled, cool eyes scanning road signs for a place to apparently fuel up.

He tells you that there’s only about an hour or so left, the ETA checking out. Nerves flood your system, but after a deep breath and stepping out to stretch your legs, you feel better.

“Who knew you were so good at pep talks,” you tease, if not to hide the fact you’re completely enamored with him. You fill up the tank after he cuts the engine, purposefully yelling so he can hear your words through the rolled up windows. “My man, the motivator!”

You hear his ensuing groan, claiming mental victory as the pump dings. Easy.

Staring at the signs of his hometown, a foreign sense of wonder engulfs you as you split from the interstate. Has that diner been there since Dan Heng was a kid? Did he even spend all of his childhood in one place? Should you ask, or is that too invasive?

The trees lining the grassy outcrops are tiny and thin, likely just having been planted by the city. How much has changed since you’ve started monopolizing his time?

Your questions spill out, and he does his best to answer them - but he also seems nostalgic, wistful and pained. Your earlier revelation rings true; you don’t know much about Dan Heng’s past.

That’s slowly changing as he tells you some stories, though his words are messy and create a muddled image in your head. You don’t push too far, chattering his ear off in response to keep things lighthearted.

(Maybe you’ll be more open about yourself too. Maybe.)

Then you careen into a residential area. It’s more suburban than you expected for a city-town hybrid of this size, streets of apartment units and then gated communities of houses. You whistle because you’re almost there, you can feel it!

“Which one is it, huh?” you pester, practically pressing your face against the glass. “Come on, pick up the pace a little!”

“I am not keen on getting a ticket this far in. A few more turns.”

True to his word, a row of townhouses come into view. They’re not massive, but the few you see are brimming with character. Full, decadent awnings and aged brick matched with just the right colors to make your brain happy. They look lived in, filled with memories that you’re eager to digest and, hopefully, be a part of.

Dan Heng pulls into the driveway of the oldest-looking one and parks. The GPS drones on, informing you of your arrival. Your anxiety has almost entirely abated at this point, thank the heavens and stars, and it’s near time to face the music with open arms.

“What a nice place! I guess we should greet them, and then start unloading?”

He nods. It’s still cold out, but less so than at school. Stepping out onto the pavement gives you a little thrill, and you trail behind Dan Heng, stuffing your hands into your jacket pockets as you stare at the front door.

It has a little brass knocker in lieu of a doorbell, and you reach out to grasp it on instinct. Your hand brushes his that had reached out at the same time.

You wiggle your eyebrows at him.

He sighs and finally knocks after you reel your grubby hand back. It all comes down to this - kind of anticlimactic from someone else’s perspective, but paramount from yours. Who will answer the door?

The answer is immediate: Welt. The thing creaks open, revealing a tall, older man with graying brown hair and glasses. He’s utilizing a cane and looks exactly like you imagined, distinguished and fitting right into the scene with his creme turtleneck and kind eyes. He regards you both, first Dan Heng, then you.

“You’re here early. Welcome back - and I see you’ve brought them, as promised,” Welt’s voice is warm, and you get the feeling the small smile he’s wearing is quite rare. “Come in, we’ve been waiting on you two. It’s an honor to meet Dan Heng’s esteemed partner.”

You’re utterly awestruck, responses forming on your tongue only to dissolve into garbled nothings. As you robotically follow inside, you watch as Dan Heng falls into an awkward-looking side hug with Welt - quickly averting your eyes so they can have a moment. Then, you can’t contain it anymore, speaking to your heart’s content.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot - well, not a lot, but enough,” you ramble unapologetically, taking in the decor of the foyer, “and I’m really excited to be here, you have no idea. Are those Ray Bans? You have a lovely home!”

Your boyfriend, wetting his chapped lips, communicates silently with Welt. You think it’s something like a greeting, a familial synergy you can’t quite grasp yet. Maybe it’s a warning: I am dating an idiot chatterbox, please be nice to them.

That seems unlikely; necessitates further observation. This is just like Animal Planet.

“Thank you, I recognize your sincerity. It’s a rare trait, these days,” he mutters mostly to himself, probably reminiscing on some mysterious past. He goes on to curtly answer your more frivolous questions while leading the two of you deeper inside. Dan Heng squeezes your hand and you share your own telepathic glance with him.

This is going well!

The interior of the living room is striking, bearing the marks of age and care. You recognize most of the furniture as antiques - leather couches and loveseats with beautiful upholstery, a sage grandfather clock standing tall near the stone fireplace, and overflowing bookshelves that’d satiate even the most voracious of readers.

Paintings adorn every wall, not a square inch left blank. The mantle boasts many trinkets and baubles of various cultures, some of which you recognize - and some of which you don’t. Those could definitely be a great conversation starter!

So charming, so quaint, so rich in history! You’d wax poetic and stare at each nifty little thing until your eyes bled if you could.

“Darling, I didn’t know you were so well-off! Maybe I should start calling you Mr. Old Money.” “...please don’t.”

Welt hides a chuckle in his gloved hand before surveying the room. “It seems everyone is doing their own thing. I’ll go get Himeko, she must be in her study,” he throws a look over his shoulder, uttering your name with just the right amount of phlegm. “Welcome. Don’t be afraid to make yourself at home.”

And you’re left alone to breathe for a short minute. You run your thumb over Dan Heng’s knuckles reverently, pondering aloud. “He’s so cool! He’s an animator, right? I’ve heard you mention something like that before.”

He nods. “Indeed. He’s worked on various pitch bibles for all kinds of IPs, but he’s more content on assuming quieter roles in the industry, or so he’s told us. His passion is what carries him, not the spotlight.”

“...that’s a great way to live,” you marvel. The air feels vulnerable after that, the nature of something as intangible as family running through the undercurrents of the house. “Do you think he’s right for being so humble?”

“It is not my place to comment, but… I can say that I look up to him,” he admits, giving your hand a shy squeeze. “Himeko is similar. She’s--” “--enthralled to finally meet your acquaintance?”

A new voice cuts in. Himeko is also a vision, donning a winter shawl that wraps around a sepia-colored dress with tights, topped off with a beret. She looks absolutely stunning, and you’re overwhelmed with the urge to compliment her profusely. She stands at a comparable height to Welt, expression softened with mirth.

“It’s long since overdue,” Himeko extends a handshake which you take. Your jaw must be scraping the floor, which Welt and Dan Heng see fit to ignore.

She whips a ruby curl out of her face to scrutinize you - shit, you probably should’ve worn something nicer. First impressions and all that!

She greets Dan Heng with a hardy embrace after letting your hand go. He stands rigid.

“I was beginning to think he was making you up,” she teases. “When you both settle in, we have a lot to catch up on. Can we help you with your bags?”

You grin at your boyfriend, nudging him with your elbow. “Whaddya say, huh?”

He nods, shoulders slumping as if he’s made it past some great obstacle.

“Great,” Welt interjects, heading back towards the front door with Himeko in tow. Dan Heng turns to you, voice akin to a whisper.

“March and Caelus are probably in their bedrooms or,” he sighs, “conspiring elsewhere. If you’d like, you can go on and look around while we deal with the luggage. It’s a lot to get used to, and you’re better off getting your curiosity out of your system.”

You gasp, splaying a hand over your heart. “You say that like I’m some unruly child! I’m not going to break anything…”

Dan Heng gives you a look.

“...this time,” you begrudgingly add.

Before he can hurry after them though, you gingerly (roughly) grab him by the collar and give him a smooch. It’s over as quick as it began, and you barely get a glimpse of his scandalized visage before you set off to explore.

The adjoining hallway leading you out of the living room is painted stark white, all kinds of framed photographs hanging on display. Most of them are noir shots of famous people; movie stars, historical figures and the like. You stop in your tracks to look each of them over.

Some aren’t so impersonal. For example, there’s one of Himeko standing in a train station, posing on the platform with a massive and austere steam locomotive behind her. There is also a gray-haired dude at her side, pointing at the train with an exaggerated expression of shock. Caelus. And the photo’s signature - March 7th.

Right on time, before you can continue snooping, you hear the distinct noise of bickering further down the hallway. You grin, sensing drama like a blood-sniffing shark.

The muffled racket becomes clearer as you approach what is probably a bedroom door, and you hesitate for only a second before not-rudely throwing it open. You can deal with the consequences later. After all, this sounds more like banter than a serious argument - you would know!

The first thing you see are two figures with their backs turned to you. Pink and gray hair hunched over a desk - Caelus sitting and clicking furiously with March pointing at the one of the three flashing monitors, posing a threat to this hell of a gamer setup.

“You actually suck at this! Log off already, Dan Heng and his guest are going to be here soon,” she chastises as Caelus huffs, him dying moments later (in Pac-Man of all things). “Seriously, this is as boring as watching paint dry. I don’t know how you have so many viewers…”

You blink, scrutinizing the monitors again. Yes, there’s Pac-Man, but there’s also a live chat that seems to be going crazy, dozens of messages burying even more dozens of messages. There’s a facecam too, framing all three of you - wait, three?

Oops. You’re live on Twitch.

“March is just a grade-A hater,” Caelus declares to his audience, “always betting against me. I’ll have all of you know that I, Whisperer of Dumpsters, Toilet Destroyer--”

A groan. “Not this again.”

They seem oblivious to the fact that you’re here, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh. Clippers must be going nuts right about now…

Dan Heng never mentioned that Caelus took this career path - but then again, you can imagine he was trying to avoid the headache of you pestering him with stream references. Either way, you’re here now, and you’ll be damned if you pass up an opportunity this golden.

“They’ve been keeping me in the basement for three years!” you yell, causing both of them to jump and turn in bewilderment, “They’re frauds, kidnappers, liars--”

“We’ve been what?!” March shrieks. She’s either 1.) quickly adjusting to your improv and playing along or 2.) now wholeheartedly convinced that you’ve been held captive here under the floorboards.

The chat lags from how fast messages are coming in, and Caelus cackles maniacally before mashing a shortcut on his keyboard to switch to a Be Right Back screen. What a performance, and you also burst out in laughter, not unlike his.

“Well, you certainly uh… made an entrance,” March grimaces, looking only slightly mortified. That sourness fades into a friendly smile as she scratches the back of her head. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. Oh my god, c’mere!”

Caelus stares at you with beady eyes as she bounds towards your form in the doorway, engulfing you in a giant hug. You feel like crying again. This was supposed to be unserious, but you can’t help but already feel at home.

“It’s nice to meet you too. Your hair clips are so cute!”

You exchange pleasantries for a moment before you hear creaking. Caelus has stood up now, an unreadable expression on his face as he approaches slowly - like molasses slowly. One menacing stomp in front of the other like he’s trying to intimidate a bear. You tilt your head curiously while March spins around to look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Group hug. Bring it in,” he answers cryptically.

March wrinkles her nose. “Why do you sound like that? You’ll creep them out!”

Caelus turns to you, looking for confirmation. Immediately, you understand what you must do. This chemistry you share with this kindred spirit should be studied in a lab under a microscope.

“Collective embrace,” you parrot. “Bring it in.”

“...so you’re both weird, huh? Just great.”

You respond by smushing both of them in a crushing hug, a chorus of giggles echoing off the walls, all three of you being the perpetrators.

This year’s holidays are off to a great start.

Things surprisingly don’t drag on.

What that means is a little hard to quantify; nebulous like carbon monoxide. You can’t see it, you can’t taste it, but it certainly takes its toll.

The first day comes to a close after a shared dinner, a feast, really - you’d never seen so much food in your life and you scarfed it down like a starving man in between conversation on every topic under the sun. You’ve fallen into the swing of things so naturally, and while that’s good, it’s a little too good.

You’ve never considered anxiety to be a formidable foe in your life. You carry conversation, pass the cornbread, spice up everyone’s lives (sometimes at the detriment of your reputation), and most importantly, you do it with a smile.

But after a night or two spent in Dan Heng’s almost spartan bedroom, tossing and turning, you’re starting to believe you’re in more trouble than you thought previously.

The nerves are easy to suppress when you’re bouncing energy off someone else, lost in the moment, because you do truly enjoy the socializing - but that feeling lingers.

And when you’re left with nothing to do, staring at the ceiling with a vengeance on the third night of your stay, all of the doubt catches up. It gains ground until your heart thunders in your chest.

You’ve learned that Himeko is buddy-buddy with the department of transportation, doubling as an engineer and cartographer. She’s even had a part in restoring defunct trains to their former glory, spearheading many vacations along the way.

(You don’t deserve to be privy to such a meaningful story.)

Caelus can’t ride a bike. Neither can you. Upon coming to this seismic revelation, he offered to take the plunge with you in an attempt to learn if you were interested. You agreed before he could even get the full sentence out.

(You’re only good at goofing around.)

March insisted that you be a temporary proofreader for her own university essays, most of which being on topics you could never wrap your head around in a million years.

Shenanigans ensued until you ended up denouncing higher education as a whole, choosing to believe in her own freestyle structure rather than whatever hellish rubric was being peddled.

(You’re too airheaded to help in a normal way.)

You’ve even grown closer with Welt. You two listened to the crackling of the old gramophone in his respective study, chiming in with your own thoughts on his archaic but classic music taste. There was a little bit of discussion on media preservation, your earnest passion pairing well with his own.

(You’re coming off too strong.)

But you feel the worst about the man sleeping next to you.

You’re supposed to be in your highest spirits, but Dan Heng has gotten good at spotting your tells. The tightness of your smile comes off as overjoyed to your new friends, but strained to him. The guilt of possibly ruining it all is unforgiving, tightened about your neck like an evil scarf.

He knows something’s up, and you know that he knows. It’s on you for not being forward about your struggles - hell, you’ve scolded him countless times about how he clams up about feelings and all that mess. You’re just a little bit of a hypocrite, then. What would you even say on the subject?

Sorry I’m such a buzzkill? Sorry I haven’t been more open with you? Sorry that I’m the actual wors--

You muffle a sob, burying your face in Dan Heng’s pillow. You just need to calm down, even if that means getting snot on his nice shams. You hiccup, and to your muted horror, the mattress creaks with movement.

Voice rough with sleep and alarm, Dan Heng calls out to you. You tense but otherwise refuse to lift your head up from your comfy sanctuary, chest rising and falling in snappy bursts.

You can’t face him like this, so tangled in everything you feel. You feel so unbelievably guilty, even if a more sensible part of you knows you’re just overthinking.

“Please look at me.”

If you’re making comparisons, Dan Heng must be the wind. Gentle and mild like a calming gale, never a torrent eager to knock you off your feet. No, he is sobering like a wayward breeze. His plea is so soft, and you only hate yourself a little bit for giving in and meeting his eyes.

His hair is sticking up in every direction just like yours. It’s not a foreign sight - you’ve slept in the same bed at least a hundred times, but the worried frown tugging at his lips is new. You sniffle and wipe your face, words a jumble of nonsense.

“Try to breathe. It’s going to be alright,” he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ll wait.”

That last part might sound impatient in some other context, but right now, it’s resolute - it’s a promise. He’ll wait until you’re ready, however long that will take.

You crumble, shakily inhaling and exhaling until you sit up to mirror his stance. You fumble to embrace him, which he accepts readily - not unused to your spontaneous acts of affection.

However, there’s a stutter in his movements. He’s not used to seeing you so put out, you hazard, unable to even produce coherent speech.

“I love you so much,” you gasp.

“...is that what this is about? Or is there more?”

Dan Heng strokes your hair through your tearful explanation. You know you don’t make a lot of sense right now, but it’s all you can manage. He still listens with scholarly attention to detail, not doting or prying. He’s here. He’s here for you, just like you are for him.

The dam has burst. “Have I ever told you about my family?”

“No,” he admits. “Do you want to?”

So you tell him enough. You only paint a vague picture; recounting endless disagreements and fighting, being kicked to the curb and ostracized, scrambling to pick up the pieces of your barely adult life before being thrusted into college all alone with no one to watch out for you. You’ve only dropped hints beforehand - after all, who wants to reopen old wounds?

Silence can be just as powerful of a response as spoken words. Dan Heng understands, you know that already, but the way he holds you is compelling evidence alone.

Dan Heng’s family is wonderful; being part of it makes you feel a little sick inside, somehow made worse by his ministrations. “It may be unfair of me to say, but… I think I know how you feel. My life before I came to live and travel with everyone was lonely. Lonely and painful, and you don’t deserve to feel that way. Ever.”

When you don’t respond, he continues.

“But I’m now content to call them my cherished companions. And you,” Dan Heng emphasizes, syllables unsure despite his best efforts, “are one of them as well. We haven’t pried too much into what is painful, but I’ve always felt like we’ve never needed to. That was my mistake.”

He makes a point of thumbing the residue of your episode away, an apology in and of itself. Of course he blames solely himself, you muse, biting back a playful reprimand that wouldn’t land well right now. Your breathing regains a semblance of normalcy as you muster up enough gusto to respond.

“No, don’t be silly. I want to talk to you more about our lives before each other, I think. Together, y’know? I-Isn’t that just so romantic? Being emotionally constipated doesn’t do either of us any favors.”

Your tone has lightened, enough for him to notice and furrow his brows in concern. Given, you rebound at the speed of light, never wishing to linger on the bad - partially because sadness is unpleasant and uncommon, but mostly because you feel like you’re unable to. That’s just how you are. However, the way he looks at you is encouragement enough to move forward.

You feel better, you do, but your eyes are still red and puffy. The night outside is still cold and unpredictable.

“Whatever you need,” Dan Heng nods. He can only be so sworn in his promises - so determined - before you crack a smile.

“Alright, easy on the white knight talk,” you chuckle. Realizing how close you actually are, there’s a pause. You can smell the mint of his shampoo, and your arms are tangled with his in some kind of human knot that’d have Houdini sweating. “It’s weird…”

He stares at you, unimpressed. “I thought you wanted me to talk to you in a ‘Romeo’ way.”

You only huff, unable to come up with a retort for once, which is fine. You wipe your face again and drag him down with you back onto the bed, which he allows, because Dan Heng is too good for you and also happens to be a complete pushover. At least you can use your frazzled, unstable emotional state to get what you want.

Case in point: you spoon him. The covers assume their original position after you wrangle them to behave, holding him close from behind. A little part of you does this so he can’t see if you start up the waterworks again, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“It’ll be alright,” Dan Heng reminds, surrendering to your whims as always.

The dust settles and you’re inclined to believe him. There is still much time left, with Christmas day being the focal point of your visit, and you’re starting to get sleepy again. That’s always a good sign; sleepy, relaxed, and with a head drained of pressing worries - at least for the present moment.

Your eyes close, bereft of tears as you murmur your agreement.

To your surprise and horror, this house didn’t have a Christmas tree. It’s not like it mattered that much, but it was still shocking nonetheless. With a building exploding with life, there wasn't an evergreen decked out in ornaments or a pine covered in lights to tie the room together.

Honestly, where were they going to put their presents?

However, you forgave this transgression a day or two later under the condition that you would be allowed to pick one out. Everyone seemed to be fine with it, with you offering to cover the cost this close to the 25th - and your determined expression that would’ve been pointless to argue with. Santa Claus works hard but you work harder.

Caelus and March jumped to go with you, much to the others’ relief, and that was more than enough hands on deck for you to hop in Caelus’s car and drive to the nearest tree farm in the dead of winter, borrowing some mittens and a cute knitted hat from March so you wouldn’t become a human popsicle before your 30s.

Uh, you did get a bit lost. You had to interrogate the shit out of the GPS and one poor local to get there; the latter was not your fault by the way! Caelus just so happened to be carrying a bat and had a concerning look in his eye. That put you in good enough standing to make it there, even if the selection of trees were picked over, leaving only the runts on sale.

All three of you turned away with your hands empty, opting to make a last minute shopping trip to the mall to buy a fake one. You were against it, but your suggestion to buy three small trees and place them really close together was vetoed. “Majority rules” is totes unfair…

But the mall trip turned into a lot more when you actually got there. Both of them ganged up on you with a reminder that you haven’t gotten Dan Heng a gift yet! Honestly, you could say you regret confessing that to them earlier, but you totally needed to hear it.

Imagine you, waking up on Christmas morning with nothing to give the love of your life! Deplorable, unforgivable, and tragically heartbreaking.

And you had a council there to help you; people that know Dan Heng just as well as you do.

“He’s so hard to shop for,” March had groaned, flicking through racks of clothes with a dark aura surrounding her. “Trust me, I’ve tried in the past. He always says he’s fine with anything, giving me zero hints…”

“Maybe get him nothing,” Caelus suggested after, more occupied with trying to steal coins from the nearby wishing fountain. Like one does. “You could run him over and he’d thank you politely.”

Similar experiences there. He’s always been more attuned to your wants than his own, which you’ve been trying to get him to work on at his own pace. Unfortunately, the place was about to close for the night since you already spent the day gallivanting around.

The burly mall security guard looked dangerously close to kicking your trio out, with at least one of you kicking and screaming, so you had to leave empty handed again.

The others assured you that you’d find a present in time. You decided to go with the flow and hope that the heavens above would drop one into your lap by the day of.

Spoiler alert: they didn’t! Because Christmas day is now here, and it all seems hopeless. Well, aside from the fact that you’re all settled around the coffee table and a big, burning fire is roaring in the fireplace.

There’s still a smile on your face as Welt and Himeko tear open their presents with wise, softened gazes. You can’t let your own mistakes ruin the moment, after all.

“Truly, thank you both,” Himeko croons, looking over her respective mug and brooch with awe. “I was prepared to perhaps play up the excitement a bit, but… I’m very impressed. Dan Heng, you’ve picked well.”

He flushes. “They helped me,” he nods to you.

“No,” she laughs, “I meant you picked a good partner.”

Before you can stammer out a reply, Welt chimes in. He’s inspecting the quality of his tie with muted gratitude - his new mug seems to only serve as a reminder that he has to drink Himeko’s coffee out of it. Hey, at least your heart was in the right place!

“I have to agree. Both of you must have collaborated seamlessly to shop for our preferences.”

Caelus, wearing his big ass jacket that you and Dan Heng bought him, sprawls out across one of the couches like a housecat. “This is a lot better than what you got me last year, Cold Dragon Young.”

Dan Heng bristles and you burst out laughing at the expression he’s making. “Cold Dragon what?”

“Ignore them,” he pleads, lips twitching upward just a smidge; a ghost of a smile. Dan Heng really does like the teasing more than he lets on.

March was almost reduced to tears by the jewelry dish you painted for her - which is more of a jewelry box at this point - but she recovers from her reverie and endless thank yous to giggle at your partner’s expense, something that’s swiftly turning into a group effort. “One time, we all got roped into fistfighting these bad guys in a club, and after Dan Heng took care of them--”

“I was left with no other choice--”

“--then that became his ring name. Cold Dragon Young!” she finishes.

Himeko and Welt exchange an exhausted look. You immediately decide that the moniker is going to become his contact name in your phone until the end of time. You also start wheezing (and also kind of blushing) at the idea of Dan Heng, the near-pacifist, duking it out with someone. “S-Sounds like you guys have been everywhere…”

“...we have,” your boyfriend clears his throat. You sense a topic change, or even a segue, drawing your attention. You sit up a little straighter and wipe the comically-induced hysteria from your eyes.

He’s looking at you expectantly with some of the earlier heat coloring the tips of his ears. The room lulls into silence as he makes his way over to the tree to retrieve a box from underneath the branches, wrapped in pastel yellow with no bow.

Dan Heng hands it over, and when your skin brushes against his for a fleeting second, you feel the clamminess of his palms.

“Oh, me next?” you blink. Shaking the thing a bit too aggressively, listening for any indication of a bomb (just in case), you get a good feel of its weight. Light and mysterious. You’re too busy making mental guesses that you don’t notice Welt shepherding the others out of the room.

“Yes. I hope you like it,” he watches as you tear open the wrapping paper and the box itself. Dan Heng is so beautiful it’s almost criminal, unintentionally batting his lashes in a way that has you swallowing drool.

You scoff. “Of course I will!”

Inside the box rests… two tickets? Your mind jumps to movie tickets first and foremost, but that’s obviously not the case; the ones here are golden with faded ridges and accented with red, sparkling as you fawn over them. Then you read the printed text lining the bottom of the thin cardstock.

The Astral Express. They’re two boarding passes.

“No way,” It’s the name of the restored steam locomotive in the picture, the very same one that Himeko told you about working on during the height of her career. “Does this mean…?”

Dan Heng drinks in the surprised part of your lips, scratching at his neck. “You mentioned that you wanted to travel. I, and the rest of us, thought you’d like to accompany us on a trip. If you don’t want to, that’s perfectly fine,” he promises. “I can get refunded, and we’ll all stay. But it’s scheduled to start the day after tomorrow and last until the new year.”

You don’t want to cry again, even if they’re happy tears, so you launch yourself into his arms as a welcome distraction. You may be imagining it, but you think you feel him slump in relief. Again. How long will it take to get it through his thick skull that he could never disappoint you?

“Duh, of course I want to! Darling, what kind of jerk would I be if I said no and made everyone cancel their plans? Oh my god, oh my god--”

“You m-may want to breathe.”

His concern is so genuine - that’s not even meant to be teasing. You scream into his shoulder, already thinking of nights spent in velvet cabins and days spent watching the cross-country scenery go by on the silver rail. With good food. Lots of it.

“I’m breathing,” you huff, in fact, short of breath. “Thank you, Dan Heng. I love it so much.”

You pull back, box and tickets still safe in your grasp despite your earlier flailing. The magical moment fizzles, your joy stunted as guilt emerges. “But I… I didn’t get you anything. I’m so sorry, we shopped all over, and everything’s been so hectic…”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I meant what I said.”

“Huh?”

“When we were shopping all that time ago,” he clarifies. “I don’t need anything but you. And with the others coming along,” Dan Heng gestures to the tickets, everyone else’s likely stowed away somewhere safe, “It’s the best gift I could ask for, more than I could ever want.”

You don’t rebut him this time.

The guilt has all but vanished, and you pull Dan Heng into a tender kiss. This has, no joke, probably been the best break of your life so far. Not to mention you have a whole new trip to look forward to, with a whole new family at your side.

Just as you think this perfect moment is unshakable, hoots and jeers break out from behind you. You whip around, dazed, and Caelus is cheering both of you on like his life depends on it.

“Wooooo! I told you they’d like it, dude! May your love burn bright for years to co--”

…then March clamps a hand over his mouth and hauls him away.

Dan Heng is so embarrassed that he chokes on a laugh. You make sure to join him in kind, the present moment also holding the infinite possibilities of the future.

thank you for reading! it means the world to me 🎅🎁 on ao3

#hvntersecretsanta #my writing #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng x you #hsr x you #dan heng hsr x reader #hsr fluff #dan heng x gn!reader

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caplanbuckybarnes · 3 months ago

Text

Here For You (Matt Murdock)

Summary: Matt needs you

WC: 727

Warnings: angst,a an argument

Read on Ao3!

The rain poured relentlessly against the windows of Nelson & Murdock, casting a gloomy shadow over the office. You sat at your desk, the glow of the computer screen illuminating your furrowed brow. You had come to the office early, hoping to catch Matt before he slipped into that brooding state he often fell into after a long night of fighting crime.

But the silence stretched on, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of raindrops. It was unusual for Matt to be late, especially when you had plans for dinner. The gnawing worry in your stomach grew as you glanced at the clock.

Just then, the door swung open, and Matt stepped inside, his soaked jacket clinging to him. His dark hair was slicked back, and his face bore the marks of exhaustion. But it was the look in his eyes that struck you—an unreadable mix of determination and despair.

“Hey,” you said softly, rising to meet him. “I was starting to worry.”

He offered a weak smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry. Things got... complicated.”

You could sense it—something heavy weighed on him, and you instinctively stepped closer, wanting to bridge the gap. “Matt, what’s going on? You can tell me.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly. “It’s just... the cases, the people I can’t save. It feels like I’m fighting a losing battle sometimes.”

You reached for him, but he stepped back, shaking his head. “I don’t want to drag you into this.”

Your heart sank. “Drag me into what? I’m already in it, Matt. I care about you. We’re a team.”

He looked away, staring out the window, the city shrouded in rain. “You deserve someone who can be there for you, who isn’t constantly fighting his own demons.”

“Is that what you think?” you asked, hurt lacing your voice. “That I can’t handle it? I thought we were meant to be together, Matt. That we could face this together.”

He turned to you, pain etched across his features. “You don’t understand. Every time I put on the mask, I put you at risk. I can’t let that happen.”

“Is that what this is about? Protecting me?” Your frustration bubbled over. “I’m not some fragile thing that needs saving. I want to be there for you, just like you’re there for me. But you keep shutting me out.”

“Because I care about you!” he snapped, his voice rising. “I care too much to let you get hurt because of me.”

You took a deep breath, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. “But shutting me out doesn’t protect me, Matt. It pushes me away. It makes me feel like I’m fighting this alone.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening, but the conflict was still there. “I just don’t want you to see the worst parts of me.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I want all of you, Matt. The good and the bad. I want to fight alongside you, not from the sidelines.”

His eyes searched yours, filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart race. “What if I can’t be what you need?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we figure it out together,” you replied, your voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere. I believe in us.”

A heavy silence settled between you, the air thick with unspoken words. Finally, he took a step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Then don’t push me away,” you urged, your heart pounding as you locked eyes with him. “Let me in, Matt. Please.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. When he opened them, the storm inside him seemed to calm just a little. “Okay,” he said softly, reaching for your hand. “I’ll try. I don’t want to fight this alone either.”

You smiled through the tears, relief washing over you as he stepped closer, pulling you into an embrace. In that moment, the weight of the world felt a little lighter. Together, you could face whatever Gotham threw your way.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that love was a battle worth fighting for—one you wouldn’t have to face alone.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fanart #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x oc

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kayesfanfics · 9 months ago

Text

Belmont! Reader with a hint of x Alucard

You and your brother could be a lot alike; brash, sometimes arrogant, cocky, sometimes lazy. You were less sarcastic and rude to other people and usually saved that for banter with him, as Trevor would %1000 start fights with his siblings no matter how old he was, he’s always going to be somewhat of a man child. You were always the more mature one even if you were only a year or two older than him, you often had to save his ass from people or vampires he pissed off. You enjoyed traveling with Sypha as the two of you could gang up on him and give him a taste of his own medicine

After joining Alucard in the mission to kill Dracula, you and your brother led the two to your family’s hold to find proper weapons and information to carry out said mission. You sat in the back of the wagon with Alucard while Sypha sat up front with Trevor, directing the horses and leading the way back to the Belmont estate. Alucard was often watching as the trees passed by, deep in his thoughts as you boredly tapped your foot on the wood of the wagon floor, eventually annoying him enough to send you a glare and make you stop

“So like…how can you be in the sun?”

“I am half human. Some things don’t effect me the way they do full blooded vampires.”

“Do you have to drink blood?”

“Sometimes.”

“Can you have garlic? Or is that just a myth?”

“Is there a point to all these questions?”

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, tired of listening to your brothers and Sypha’s squabbling about directions. Alucard simply raised an eyebrow at you, before continuing to answer any questions you had about his physiology and his father and the castle

Once you all stopped to make camp for the night, you collected firewood with Trevor, who immediately started bugging you

“I heard you two getting quite personal back there.”

“I heard you and Sypha getting quite personal up there.” You repeated, shoving him away from you as the two of your carried firewood back to camp

“I’m just saying, you seemed a bit too curious.”

“And? This is any of your business because?”

“Because I’m your brother! I’m supposed to look out for you!”

“I’m older than you! I can handle myself!”

“So? I’m stronger than you!”

“I’m smarter than you!”

“I’m taller than you!”

“I’m-“

“Are you two bickering again?” Sypha interrupted as you both reached camp. You both froze and cleared your throats awkwardly before setting the wood down for her. She rolled her eyes at the two of you, but mostly towards Trevor as you too rolled your eyes at him, before huffing and sitting next to Alucard, who side eyed you but didn’t say anything

After a couple days you finally reached the Belmont Estate, feeling a pang of nostalgia and grief hit you when you saw it in ruins as you left it all those years ago. You and Trevor led the speaker and the vampire down into the Hold, beginning to search for information to aid you all in battle. You watched Alucard gaze at a display of vampire skulls, including one the size of a child, before searching for books near him

You heard your brother gasp and rush over somewhere, before dragging out a large chest. Your eyes widened and you rushed over, your eyes widening in disbelief when you saw the glorious weapon inside

“The Morningstar…” You both breathed, amazed by the artifact as Trevor gave it a test swing

“It’s mine.”

“No way, I found it!”

“I’m older! It goes to me first!”

“Does not! Go find your own weapon!”

“Are you two fighting over that UGLY thing?” Sypha asked, looking at the weapon in disgust. You gasped dramatically at that, before telling her about how glorious it truly was. You bickered with your brother over it before you finally lost the argument, glaring at him before storming off to find something else to use

“That is quite childish, Belmont.”

You turned and saw Alucard flipping through a book behind you as you opened another chest of smaller weapons. You poured and ignored him, which made him chuckle at your slightly puffed out cheeks and furrowed brows

When night fell, you found a rather uncomfortable place to rest, finding a large cloak that belonged to an ancestor to curl up in next to a small fire in a lamp you made. It felt weird being back home, it was too quiet and still for it to be home, but yet it was. Alucard must’ve noticed the melancholic look on your face, as he brought his stack of books over and sat across from you, reading by the lamp light. You smiled at the gesture and sat with him in the comfortable silence, watching the fire flicker and listening to him flip the old pages of the books

“Alucard?” You finally worked up the courage to gain his attention. He didn’t look up from the pages of the book, but acknowledged you with a response.

“Please, call me Adrian.”

“…Adrian?”

“Y/N?”

“Will you be able to do it? Will you be able to…to kill your father?”

He looked up from the book, but he didn’t look angry or sad. He looked determined and deep in thought like usual, carefully searching for the right words.

“Yes, I will. It needs to be done, and I’m afraid I may be the only one that can do it.”

You looked up at him solemnly, looking into his eyes and seeing a hint of premature regret and sorrow. You could tell this would be harder for him than he was letting on, after all, just because he was a genocidal maniac, Dracula was still a father. You gently took the book from his hands, and he let you, before moving over to sit with him. You offered part of the cloak to him, to which he accepted and sat closer to you.

“I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but we’re all here to help you. I know my idiot brothers been giving you a hard time about it, but I know you can do it. Even if it’s going to be hard.”

He gave you a small smile, before quietly saying, “Thank you, Y/N.” You smiled back before resting your head on his shoulder shamelessly, feeling him stiffen up a bit but slowly relax to your touch as you began to doze off.

“Goodnight, Adrian.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

#castlevania #castlevania x reader #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #trevor belmont

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ambrosiagoldfish · 11 days ago

Note

i’m going a teensy bit feral reading your adam x third spouse story so i guess im just asking for part five and for it to hopefully have focus on dad beat dad and how lucifer would react to seeing the reader again after so long and like what would happen n stuff 🤭🤭 ofc if this is dumb ignore it i like what you’re doing with the story already !! the part im most excited for is the finale tbh but there’s a lot of time in between what you have rn and then so i’m just yapping abt stuff that could be cool in between. thsi is so jumbled omg sorry i just wanna see more of your writing it’s so good

idk how to end this uhh i love you bye 🫡

Benefit of the doubt PT.5

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Warnings: GN! Reader, confronting the past, next to no Adam (I know, sad, but it’s for the plot), Reader focused chapter, this is set during ‘Dad Beat Dad’, swearing, the next 2 chapters will have a LOT more Adam DW ❤️❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Request Box: OPEN

Word count: 4322

A/n: Hey everyone! Thank you so much for the support on all the other chapters. It’s been 8-ish months since the last update and for that I want to apologize. I’ll save it for its own dedicated post to not full int his page too much. But if you’ve saw one of my post from the other day, I have posted this on A03 and I’m giving myself 8 total parts. 7 will be the finale and 8 will be an epilogue styled thing (not even sure if I’m wanting to do it so when we get there, you guys can tell me if you want it!! ) so yeah, enough rambling, you’ve all been waiting so long for the next part so here you go!! <3

Reblogs are VERY appreciated!

(My posts have been flopping so much, I would love you forever if you did 😭)

Old memories have a habit of slithering their way back into a person's mind, and even sometimes, people

The first few months at fhe hotel were a lot more enjoyable than you originally expected. Most days went relatively the same, Charlie would choose an activity to do and you would observe the progress they made.

At first, progress hadn't shown much promise but as everyone grew closer, things began to look up. Angel had gone clean with his drug abuse and was distancing himself from his line of work. Sir Pentious started to actually trust the people around him and has done no major constructional damage to any buildings as of late.

Everything was going so smoothly that, when you had woken up one morning to the sounds of screaming, running, and just general chaos. You thought everything was finaly going into the ground.

You quickly run down to the lobby, thoughts of what could be happening run through you. Did one of Pentious experiments fail and explode? Were we being attacked by one of the many gangs in town? Did Alastor decide the hotel was actually boring and started destroying it, starting with the occupants? Whatever it was, you hurry faster to the lobby.

But what was meeting you there was… unexpected to say the least. Party streamers, banners, cookies. It looked like some kind of welcome party heaven would do, albeit with less flare and taste in decor. A banner that read ‘Wellcum Daddy’ was being hung up by Razzle and Dazzle, everyone was either cleaning or baking something, and Vaggie seemed to be ordering them around.

You look at the clock, huh, it’s way too early for any kind of Charlie’s trust exercises. Not to mention, she would have told you about the curriculum and there was absolutely not a 10 AM home-EC class listed on your schedule.

You quickly run up to Charlie who seemed to be preoccupied with helping Vaggie put something up “Charlie, what’s going on?” You tap on her shoulder, She jumps a bit before just realizing it’s you,

”Oh- Y/N, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot to get you!” She apologizes when Vaggie pops in,

“Don’t be, I told Nifty to go wake you up, but looks like she had better things to do” she points over at Niffty swifty stabbing bugs and removing cobwebs out of habit

“It’s fine, just… what’s everyone doing, what’s with all the party supplies and sweets?” You say, arms to the festive lobby around you.

“Oh well…” she took a deep breath “you know that The deadline is fast approaching and while we’ve made progress it’s not much” she paused, trying to even brace herself for what’s coming out of her mouth, “I have asked… my dad to come over and hopefully get us a meeting with heaven” she stops, completely caved in on herself.

“Wait, so… your dad is coming here?” you thought about the times she had asked you to get them a meeting with heaven but you had already explained to her that it would be next to impossible for someone like you. You had to practically beg just to monitor the hotel

Charlie Picked herself back up and looked at you with a shakey demeanor, “Yeah In about… 55 minutes”

You blink a few times before giving a small chuckle “Well, would you look at the date! I think it’s time I used my 1-per-month trip back home! If you’ll excuse me-“

“Wait! No-“ she trips over herself “We need you here, if dad can see, not only the progress we’ve made, but also that we already have an angel supporter, there’s no way he could say no!”

“Charlie, I don’t think it’s a good idea-”

“PleasePleasePlease! I will pay you back, promise! But I- we could really use you there!” Her eyes looked at you, similar to a puppy. She hands clasped together In plea.

You looked away in thought. Seeing him again was the last thing you wanted to do at this moment, any moment for that matter. The last time…well to be honest, the whole exchange hadn’t meant anything to you in quite a while. He could say whatever he wanted about you… it was the words he had to say about Adam that kept your heart ablaze in anger at the Morningstar.

Trash? He should really look in the mirror before saying that about your Adam. But… this could be a good opportunity for the hotel -as much as it pained you to admit- You can only sigh, “fine.. for the hotel…” You let out a small chuckle raising your arm in defeat.

Charlie jumped up and down with glee, repeating a matra of ‘Thank You’s’ before continuing “I get it might be difficult since you’re an Angel.” She tries to give some comfort. But that caught your attention.

“Because I’m an Angel?” You honestly didn’t mean to say it out loud but it came out as a question.

She looks at you confused “yeah, you know, considering I don’t think angels have too kind of thoughts to my dad for being… the devil” she laughs nervously

Oh. Oh. So that’s what she means. So she doesn’t know about your past with him? Not too much a surprise, I doubt Lucifer would bring up any of his failures. But that also made you realize one other thing. Charlie doesn’t know about your marriage with Adam.

Look, you didn’t mean to keep it a secret. In fact you had already assumed they knew. I mean you were sitting literally right next to him and Vaggie already knew who you were. You just thought she would have told Charlie, but knowing this now… it may be best to keep it a secret.

You let out a quick “I understand.” and with that, you all went your separate ways, you did contribute to the decor the best you could, as well as helping Sir Pentious and Nifty with the baking until finally, it was time for Charlie’s dad to arrive.

You walked over to a more remote place in the hotel lobby, look… you may have to interact with him today but you will not be doing it that soon. Instead, you decided your best choice of action was to sit and watch quietly until Charlie decided it was time for you two to meet. And in the meantime, you can mentally brace yourself.

Charlie sighs deeply “Okay everybody, it’s showtime!”

With that she swings the door open revealing the one, the only (thank Father) king of hell himself, Lucifer. Immediately Lucifer pulls his, obviously nervous daughter into his arms. He greets her with excitement before moving on to Keekee, and eventually Razzle and Dazzle.

He eyes the room, clearly covering up any distain for the hotels “character” to protect Charlie’s feelings. At least until he got to the bar which even he couldn’t lie his way through.

Even from the distant view you were from, you could see Alastor and Lucifer weren't going to be the best of buds anytime soon. As soon as they were introduced to one another they immediately got into it. Huh, at least now you have something in common with Alastor at least! If that’s even a good thing.

Their quarrel lasted a few minutes, everyone either waiting for it to be over, completely ignoring it, or enjoying it as entertainment. It lasted what felt like an eternity and was only interrupted when a short and plump woman by the name of ‘Mimzy’ came into the scene.

The old time-y dressed woman was one of Alastor’s friends, you honestly didn’t think he had those but you digress. Eventually once the commotion dies down, you see Charlie give you a nervous smile and wave for you, ‘that’s my cue’ you thought. Anxiety still felt taught in your heart but still you pushed through.

You walk out of your hiding spot, walking up to be next to Charlie. Still trying to keep your presence hidden for as long as you could, savoring those last few moments of peace before a wave of interactions.

Charlie clears her throat and puts on a more professional demeanor despite her nervousness, getting the attention from her dad, “And last but certainly not least, i’d like you to meet our Angelic sponsor-“

“Y/N!?-“ the fallen Angel suddenly started coughing, clearly having choked on his own words. He clears his throat “Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting… you to be here” he lets out a chuckle.

“You guys know each other!?” Charlie looked shocked, her voice pitching up in bewilderment.

“We’ve… met before,.” Your voice was low, But still you pushed through “Though, it’s hardly relevant to anything of importance now. Isn’t that right, Morningstar?”

Lucifer's face contorted into an uncomfortable shaky smile, fingertips digging into his Apple-shaped cane. Perhaps he felt some type of remorse for the way things happened back all those years ago, but even if that’s true, you had no plans to forgive him.

He clears his throat “Yes it’s- unimportant Sweetie.. “

You 3 stand in awkward silence for a moment, all you can do is glare daggers at the short ex-Angel in front of you. Eventually though, you couldn’t stand the scilence any longer, “Well Charlie, I have to get something done in my room and I’ll be back to help with the tour in a few minutes, if that’s ok?”

Charlie looked like she wanted to protest, for you to stay with her through the tour, but she knew you wouldn’t just leave and not come back. “Um, yeah that’s fine! Me and Alastor can get the tour started and you can meet us around the 4th floor?”

You gave a quick nod as agreement and make your way to your room. Sighing, you flop down on your bed, feeling the soft warmth as you sink into comfort. Pulling out your phone, you quickly typing a text to Adam but your thumb simply hovered over the send button, anxiety washing over you. Your message was simple,

‘I promise that everything’s ok, but he’s here’’

You were hesitating, should you even tell him that he's here? You didn’t want to worry him over something so insignificant. He has a show tonight, he wouldn’t be at his best if he was constantly thinking you would be in the same room as the devil.

Or even worse, he could just cancel the show completely and march down here and a cause a ruckus which at best would completely destroy the Hotel’s plans and at worse… No, you can’t think of that.

You look at the message again before just setting your phone on your nightstand. 10 minutes… that’s all you need before you go back out there…

…Lucifer was having… let’s just say a tinsy bit of a bad day. Not only has he been forced to interact with that insufferable yellow-toothed sinner but also, he has been reunited with someone he hadn’t seen in a millenia, you.

The anxiety of the day was only topped off with the added stress of being with his daughter. Don’t get him wrong, he LOVES his daughter and is always happy to see her, but the way she talks and acts with these sinners… Ugh, it reminds him too much of himself back in the day.

Her hotel too… He may have given her the place but he never gave it much thought beyond it being a pipe dream for her. He was just trying to do something for his daughter, especially with… Lilith being out of the picture. He just wanted to cheer her up, and unfortunately it seems ‘grandiose plans’ run in the family.

Even now as Charlie and that Red haired Buck show him around, Charlie explains excitedly about different things they have at the hotel. It reminds Lucifer about how she was when she was little, that glow of joy never seemed to fade away from her despite the conditions she lives in.

But even still, as much as he’s trying not to zone out and actually listen to his daughters rambles, his mind keeps trailing back to one, singular thought. You.

What were you doing here? He knows you were there to ‘support the hotel’ as Charlie puts it. But this is the absolute first he’s hearing about it. Why wouldn’t heaven tell him that another Angel was down here, let alone, you most of all. The last time he saw you was… not the best first meeting

Were you here in secret? You clearly weren't fallen, considering you still had your halo and you didn’t look like you’ve been damaged anywhere close to what you’d be if you had fallen. Not to mention… Adam, the exterminations were his idea so why would you even consider an alternative when you are his-

“Uh, Dad?” Charlie interrupted Lucifer’s thoughts, a look of worry on her face. ”You’ve got a little bit of… horn? Sticking out”

Lucifer looks up and sees that he’s subconsciously beginning to phase into his full demon form. He quickly takes his hand and pats the horns as if he was just dusting off his coat, causing the horns to seem to fade away like dust. Wow, today really seems to be getting to him.

“Ah sorry Sweetie, it’s nothing just… uh..” He thinks for a moment, he has to talk to you alone, just for a second. “*Ahem* I was just realizing I had to… use the bathroom, I seem to have had one too many drinks on the way here. Can you tell me where the… bathroom is?” He lets out a chuckle to hopefully cover his lie.

“Oh, it’s just down the hall and to the right, I can take you there-“

Lucifer quickly lets out a loud ”No!“ Before clearing his through again “I can get there on my own, just wait here and I’ll be back!”

Before Charlie can even answer, Lucifer rushes through the halls of the hotel, yelling a ‘I’ll be back soon’ to his Daughter before turning the corner. He lets out a deep breath as he lays out the plan in his head. Figure out why you’re here, and get back to Charlie as fast as inhumanly possible.

Picking his feet up again, he makes his way to the lobby of the hotel, he looks around for a moment before spotting the check in desk. ‘They usually keep visitor information there, right?’

He quickly scours the desk, looking for any forms or documents that have your room number, before finally setting his eyes on your room number. It didn’t take long to find you seeing as there were such few occupants in the hotel.

He memorized your room and repeated it to himself while walking to your door. Past the first, 2nd, then finally, halfway through the hallway on the 3rd floor he finds it. Before he can knock, a sudden wave of worry floods his senses. Seriously, Why would he hesitate now?!

He shuffled around nervously, starting to doubt this little mission of his. Should he really be doing this? Is he really worried about you being here or is the real reason he came here because he wanted to… apologize to you? It’s true that the guilt of what happened all those years ago was still there. But… Digging up old memories just because he’s selfish and wants to apologize to you? He takes a deep breath.

He had to make things better or… at least get some things off his chest. So, with a heavy fist and an even heavier heart, he gently knocks on the hard wooden door…

This had been the longest 10 minutes of your life, trying to decide wether to send Adam the message, or to even return to tour with Charlie at all. As much as it pains you to say, you still become anxiety ridden when he’s in the room or even the mere mention of him. That spark of defiance you had in the lobby earlier being nothing but a small bit of courage. But you remembered that you had promised Charlie you’d be there for her, and you certainly weren’t one to take back a promise.

Before you could decide what to do, you hear an ever so faint knock on your door. Curiosity peaked, You thought Charlie was supposed to be waiting for you on the 4th floor? Had you taken too long and the tour went south? You quickly made your way to the door and hoped you wouldn’t see a very angry Charlie on the other side.

As the wooden-door creaked open, your face slowly turned bitter at The short, impish man who stood on the other side. Lucifer Morningstar. To be honest, you much would have preferred the angry Charlie, TWO very angry Charlies over this.

The man shuffled awkwardly in place, gripping his cane. Neither of you could break the silence . He avoided any eye-contact with you and even you couldn’t hide The disgusted expression on your face when looking at him. Finally after what feels like 3x the eternity you’ve lived thus far, you spoke In shaky words, ”What do you want?”

Lucifer pushed out his words as well as he could, meek they were, but you understood what he said “Can we please…talk?”

Your fingers gripped at the door, nails embedding into the wood, leaving scratches. It took all you had not to slam the door right in his face, but even if you had, it wouldn’t have solved any pressing issues. If anything, it might make him against Charlie’s idea with the hotel, which you couldn’t afford. You take a deep breath before letting out a quick but unsavory,

“5 minutes”

The short demon shuffles his way into the room as you follow in behind him, locking the door to prevent someone like Nifty or Charlie from walking in. Lucifer stands timidly by your nightstand as you stand on the complete opposite side of the room, facing him. Lucifer runs his neck as he lets out a shaky sigh “I just want to know what you’re doing here…” he pauses, he looks like he has more to say but decided not to.

You can only laugh to yourself “I’m here because I believe I think Charlie’s idea has potential to be great. The exterminations, they have to end… that’s why I’m here”

Lucifer seem a bit… surprised? Surprised with your stance on the exterminations. you figured he needed more than that so you continue “I… I’ve never been one for the exterminations. I've been against them from the start. I just didn't know what else to do. Nothing else seemed…right.“

He stayed silent, processing what you told him. He really didn’t understand you, he had a completely warped view of you. “If that’s all you wanted to know I’d rather you take your leave-“

“No!” You step back at the sudden raise in voice but he quickly clears his throat “No, there’s another thing. I would… I’d like to apologize to you about how things went… when we first met.”

You stared at him, the silence once again feeling the air. You didn’t dare break it, you watched as the impish man looked around with anxiety, trying to find the right words. “It’s always been there, in the back of my mind. How we- I, treated you. It was unacceptable… Lilith kept telling me to let it go, that she was done thinking about it, but I just couldn’t.” He takes a deep breath “so, I’m so sorry for hurting you, Y/n…”

Lucifer Morningstar. The man in front of you looked more akin to a puddle than a person at this point. Sweat dripped from his face, a scrunched mouth filled with a sour taste. He wasn’t looking at you, focusing his attention to the ground. Finally, after many long seconds later. You step forward, grabbing his attention.

“As much as I appreciate the apology, I don’t forgive you.” Lucifer began to speak or at least say he understood but no matter what his reaction was going to be, you interrupted him ‘“-I don’t forgive you, because I’m not the one who deserves it”

To that, Lucifer's head was struck with confusion, “what do you mean?” He tried to make sense of your words, shifting eyes looking around in unease before landing on a framed photo of a candlelit man, an old and forgotten, yet familiar smile on his face… ”You mean… Adam?” Despite his best efforts around you, saying the first man’s name still dripped his words with venom. That same sour taste filling his mouth at the mere mention of him. ”What does-” he stops himself, he knows why.

You breathe in slowly, “What you said to me, all of those years ago, hasn’t meant anything to me in a long time. I’ve gotten through it 10x over and finally understand that I am more than those words” you take another step towards him, closing the gap, “so… there's no use for your apology to me. But Adam… you’ve hurt him more than you couldn’t possibly imagine“

The room was filled with dense air, like any sudden move could kill the king of hell or even you at any second but still you continue. “Adam deserved so much better than what he was forced to have from you, so if anyone deserves your apology, it’s him.” He goes to speak but you shut him down again “but we all know that you are too prideful to do so, and Adam… he’s too stubborn to hear it”

You don’t yell, scream, all of your words coming soft from your lips “So… what you’re going to do, if you truly mean what you say. You will go back to your daughter, forget this conversation ever happened, then you can march back to your big castle with your Loving wife, and leave us be, for the rest of eternity.”

With that, you step away from him, words that have been bubbling inside you for centuries finally having been let out. It felt like several hundred pounds had been lifted off of you. You begin to walk to the door to let him out, wanting the conversation to be over, When you hear him speak a faint ”Ex-Wife actually”

You pause, your teeth already biting your tongue. Honestly, if you really thought about it, it was poetic. The Angel who ruined two marriages, leaving Adam nothing but a broken heart and baggage, ended up with a failed marriage himself.

But even still, you still felt a slight pain of pity for him. Through clenched teeth you let out ”I'm… sorry to hear that. It must be hard.”

This kind of thing, no matter the person, is always tough. You knew the aftermath of it through Adam, even now he struggles with so many issues from it. In that regard, you felt pity for the ruler of hell, but the rest of you felt… glad? Glad that he finally understands just a thorn of the pain he inflicted on Adam.

“The 5 minutes are up so… go now… please.” Your voice shakes near the end, your will power for everything you’ve done starting to break. Lucifer looked equally as defeated, you could tell he wanted to say more but he just nodded his head before walking out the door. slowly, silently, you close the door back before sliding down it as your legs give out.

You wanted to cry, scream, do anything but sit there, but you couldn’t. Your voice hurts from talking, your feet hurt from standing, everything just… hurts.

DING DING DING

A luminous yellow light follows the sound, you lifted your head and saw your phone on your nightstand. Adam… You used all of your strength to make it to your bed, practically having to crawl to avoid any more tiredness in your aching body. You finally land on the soft mattress to pick up your phone, seeing the plethora of messages from Adam.

DIXKMASTER69

Yo Bitch, everything good??

You’ve been typing for like 10 minutes

Answer me

Hellllloooooo??????

Oh, that’s why he was texting. You had completely forgotten your half written message you were debating on sending earlier. You start to delete it and rewrite it when suddenly,

INCOMING CALL FROM DIXKMASTER69

You sigh at the screen, your phone vibration sends chills through your aching arms, it acts as a lifeline for you not to fall asleep on the soft plush beneath you. You press the answer button.

‘Fuck Babe, finally! Are you ok?!” Adam’s voice sounded angry but you know he was just worried “you’ve been texting for like 15 minutes”

“Yeah, don’t worry Adam, I... must have fallen asleep while trying to message you”

“It’s 12 in the afternoon, you dont normally fall asleep in the middle of the day” Adam questions, his voice having obvious worry for you.

“Today’s just been very tiring. But I promise I’m fine, it’s just happened a lot today.” You hated lying to him, your other half, but you know this is something that he shouldn’t have to worry about.

You hear him groan, “how many times do I have to fuckin’ tell you not to overwork yourself for those sinners”

“I know, I’m sorry” you pause “I… I have to go now but I promise I’ll call you later, yeah?“

He was quiet on the other side before he lets out “Yeah, just don’t overdo yourself ok?” His voice was soft, no hint of sarcasm or anger, just him.

You let out a small breathy laugh “I promise. Have fun at your show tonight. Talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too”

CLICK

You sigh to yourself, you still have the tour to do. It’s fine, everything is fine.

Tomorrow will be a better day. it has to be.

TAGLIST: @tired-of-life-86 @nervoussystemss @qopia @lovelyemily @hcneyiced @v3r41ynn

@ghostdoodlen @nxptvne-13 @ximenavc-che

@edgyfluff @ericityyy @diffidentphantom @faimmm @slasher-whore69 @1-randomized @ozzersauce @fanlovedlt @alientee @pandaquick @white-00-7 @call-me-nyx @adamstruelove @jennieyeager @sillyycatt @solatiium @my-name-is-heartache @parisiterileymoon @titan-senpai @lovely-night-owl-86 @innergardentoadpony @animefan106sposts @starlightstarbrightmyfirststar @lovkayy @ilikedrinkingsoda @barrythestrawberry041 @deadpoolssweetchimi @asegirllovesreadingporn @ripashy @deleted-1-800 @sirenetheblogger @ur1nonlygabi @aweleyirene @n0tmentallystable

(I really hope I didn’t forget anyone if I did, just asked to be added in the comments!!)

Shoutout to these specific asked as well, love you all <3

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slytherheign · 2 years ago

Text

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever.

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark. “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!”

“Uhh… since last week?”

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you.

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again.

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter.

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone.

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered.

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall.

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking.

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?”

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels.

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing.

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?”

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

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silverzoomies · 11 months ago

Text

Turkish Delight

peter maximoff x reader smut

chapter 1: sweet talkin'

link to chapter 2: here

warnings: shameless smut, porn without plot, phone sex, mutual masturbation, best friends, dirty talk

word count: 6,368

a/n: hiyaaa !! i'm back with more filth !! peter speaks russian in this one. i've seen people use russian in place of sokovian language before. and since i've been learning russian for a while, i thought i'd give it a shot !! if you're familiar with the language and anything seems off, please let know asap !! as usual, apologies if peter seems ooc, or if my writing isn't up to par !!

tag list (if i forgot you, please remind me !!): @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Chillaxing on the sofa in his mom’s basement, Peter drew out a sigh. His hooded eyes gaped at the TV screen. As he channel surfed, his thumb tapped lazily on the remote. Peter stopped to check each channel in abrupt intervals. Afternoon cable was boring as hell today. It failed to grasp his short lived attention span.

Seinfeld reruns? He saw just about all of ‘em. Soap Operas? Those were more his mom’s thing. Huge pass. Nature documentaries? Could be cool. Guess it depended on which one, though.

Oh. It was the one about the polar bear’s great journey across the arctic! Nifty enough. Except, Peter saw that one three or four times already now. Скучный (boring). Так скучно (So boring).

‘Kay, soooo…TV was kind of a no-go. Instead, Peter popped on the PS1 and settled for a game of Metal Gear Solid. The game’s opening intro was a little too slow for his liking, but Peter forced himself to focus. It sucked he was so antsy today, so fidgety and impatient. He needed some kind of distraction. Any distraction. And he needed one fast.

Peter bounced a leg, half invested in the game’s dialogue. His fingers absentmindedly flicked the controller buttons. Not even five minutes into playing, he found himself frustrated and bored again. This time around, he figured some company might ease his ennui.

He darted across the arm of the couch to a side table. Over a stack of comic books and empty cans of soda, he snatched the receiver to a Garfield phone. Peter dialed a number in less than a second. Too fast, at first. The phone didn’t even register his request. Rolling his eyes, he dialed the number again. Slower this time.

Peter kept the vibrant hunk of orange plastic between his cheek and shoulder. Buzzy ringing echoed on the other end of the line, as he waited for the recipient to pick up. The time it took for a voice to finally respond felt like fifty billion years. Your voice. One of Peter’s closest comrades. The pal he shared most, if not all, of his free time with.

There were days when you visited, and you laid back on the sofa with him. With your legs stretched over his lap and a magazine in your hands, you relaxed. Peter would always do his usual, playing whatever game he ‘bought’ from the local K-Mart. Every time he cursed himself for making a misstep, you giggled. You knew how frustrating it was for him, if he wasn't a hundred leaps ahead of everything. And just to get back at you - but also to hear you laugh again - he’d reach over and dig his fingers into your belly.

He loved that it took such minimal effort to make you laugh. You always had an easygoing warmth about you. And maybe you were also pretty cute too. Sometimes, the crook of your smile made him blush. Oh, and you didn't mind duking it out in Mario Kart sometimes. That was also kinda cool. What more could a lonesome guy ask for? Просто друзья. Ничего больше (Just friends. Nothing more). Yeah. He could be content with that. No problem.

Ten minutes into conversation with you, Peter breathed a yawn into the receiver.

“You know, I’m surprised you have the patience for talking on the phone.” You joked.

The speakers roared with a soft buzz in his ear. Peter didn’t register your words at first. Blinking lazily, he tapped the PS1 controller buttons at rapid speed. In the game, Snake fought off an onslaught of bad guys. Peter faked his offense with a scoff.

“Seriously? Man, what’s up with that? It’s like everyone thinks I can’t do stuff at normal speed without goin’ berserk.” He said, cursing under his breath as Snake got gunned down again.

A small part of him wished you were there, with your legs over his lap, cracking jokes at his expense. Over the phone, you emitted a gentle laugh.

“Because you have? Multiple times, dude!” You said.

Surely you could hear Peter’s eyes roll in his skull.

“Oh, yeah? Name five.” he pressed.

The fast paced clicking of the buttons echoed like a trill in the basement. He overheard the sound of rustling as you shifted in place. If Peter had to guess, he’d bet his left foot you were still lazing around in bed. It was a Saturday, after all. With the hour tipping on the edge of late afternoon. You always moved at the slowest of speeds on your off days.

“I’m just saying! I totally get it. Even I don’t have the patience for chats on the phone sometimes.” You said, and a squeaky yawn followed.

More rustles scuffed from your end, as if you moved to stretch. Keeping his gaze fixed on the flickering, CRT screen; Peter followed flashes of light from each grunt’s gun. His reaction time proved effortless as always. His methods, not so much.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Peter mumbled after a beat, “Doesn’t bother me much if I’m talkin’ to you. You’re not boring, first of all. And on the off chance I do get bored, I can just say - hey, babe, I’m gonna hang up. And you won’t get-uhhh…” He lingered on his next thought, distracted with gunning down more masked baddies, “You won’t get, like, butt hurt over it."

“Why would I?” You laughed, “Did someone seriously get offended by that?”

“My aunt did once. She got mad pissed ‘cuz I told her I was ‘kinda bored’ on the phone. She made me pass it to my mom, so she could rat me out. Said I showed a ‘lack of consideration'; ‘er whatever.” Peter paused, brows furrowed. In Metal Gear, Snake perished yet again. Peter rolled his eyes once more, “She’s kinda mental, though. это возмутительно (it’s outrageous).”

Your only response was a quiet hum of acknowledgement. Peter broke the silence that followed.

“Hey, you’re not busy today, are you? Wanna do somethin’ later?” He asked, knowing full well you had jack shit to do.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling soooooo lazy today.” You playfully teased.

The soft pattern of your breathing sent electric tingles down Peter’s neck. Shuddering, he shook off those unexpected chills. Another beat, and Peter groaned, as Snake perished over a low poly landscape. You gotta take it slow and stealthy, man - Peter reminded himself.

“Хорошо (okay)? So? Come be lazy over here then.” He replied, “Tell you what. If you do, I’ll go ‘n snag some of those Turkish delights you like. The same ones my mom gotcha for your birthday. Remember? From Sokovia?”

Your voice perked up instantly, bringing a cheesy smile to his face. Homely fondness simmered in his chest, and Peter felt himself blush. He pulled his lip between his teeth, pausing his game to focus more on conversation. Leaving Snake stranded in the middle of the snow.

“Oh my gosh!! No way?? I haven’t had those in forever! Seriously, the ones from Sokovia?” You chimed.

“Hell yeah! But you gotta get outta bed first, dingus. C’monnnn.” Peter whined, “I’m so bored here, babe. Oh! I totally forgot. I finally got my hands on a Gameboy Color too. Swear on my life I paid for it this time. You could come over ‘n try it ouuuuuut.” He teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling his brows.

“Gameboys and Turkish delights? You’re spoiling me today, Peter! What’s the occasion?” You joked over the line.

He shrugged, forgetting you couldn’t see him, “Bored outta my friggin’ skull. That’s what.” After a beat, he awkwardly added, “And maybe I like hangin’ with you? Do I even need a reason?”

“Well, I gotta admit…you had me at Turkish delights.” You feigned a dreamy tone.

Peter chuckled again. Under his breath, he muttered softly, “ Это все, что тебе нужно, да (That’s all you need, huh)?”

“Huh?” You asked, oblivious to his comment, “What’d you say? I didn’t catch that last part.”

Peter ran a hand through his silver locks, leaving his hair loose and messy. Cradling the phone in his other hand, he knitted his lips to one side.

“Nothin’. Don’t worry about it. You want me to come get you? ‘Cuz I can.” He checked his digital watch, decked out in a Star Wars theme, “I can right now, if you-”

“It’s fine. I love going out with you, but I really don’t wanna deal with motion sickness today. I just had lunch too. No offense!” Another yawn rang over the phone, hitching into a squeal at the end. Peter didn’t realize he was smiling so big until his cheeks started to hurt, “I’ll just drive over. Sound good?”

Peter rolled his eyes, sarcastically groaning. He threw his head back into the sofa cushions, playing up his fake frustrations.

“Auuuuuuugh! But that’ll take years.” He dragged a hand down his face, pulling his cheeks under his fingertips, “Is this ‘cuz you blew chunks last time?? You know that doesn’t bother me, right? Everyone does it, babe.”

You made a noise of disgust. Something like an eugh , “Please, don’t remind me. That sucked so much. Yeah, no, I’d rather not. I really need a break from it.” You sighed again. Kind of a bummer, but he could deal.

“It’s whatever you want, I guess. So, when are you gonna head out?” Peter asked, sitting up on the sofa and putting the controller aside.

He bounced a leg at rapid speed, his knee moving in a flesh tone blur of motion. Less from agitation, more due to anticipation.

“I’ll leave soon. Just give me a few minutes. Think you can wait?” You chuckled in that sweet, quirky way again. The melody gave Peter butterflies. Ignoring the fluttering in his belly, he pushed himself off the couch. Grabbing the base of the Garfield phone, Peter cradled the lil guy in an arm. He figured he may as well get dressed, and freshen up before you arrived, “It’s so cold today. I haven’t even gotten out of bed yet! I’m still bundled up in my undies. Got your jacket on too. You left a Game n Watch in the pocket, by the way. I didn’t even know they still made those!”

“Yeah. I totally called that one. Get up already, ya slacker.” Peter joked trapping the phone between his cheek and shoulder again. He scratched his bare chest. His fingertips grazed the sparse covering of white hairs there. Yawning, he nodded, “Okay. Okay. Okay. Sure, just-”

Something about your last statement finally clicked in Peter’s brain. He rapidly blinked, shaking his head fast enough to give himself whiplash. Peter did a quadruple take.

“Подожди (wait)! Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, waiiiiiit …hold on a sec.” He narrowed his eyes, “Say that again?”

“Say what again? The part about the Game n Watch?” You asked, and Peter’s brows furrowed.

“N-Nah. The…did you just…have you been lyin’ around in your underwear this whole time?”

“Uh, yeah? Why? Is this revolutionary information?” You chuckled.

“In my jacket? Like, I didn’t hear that wrong? What’d you like…sleep in it ‘er somethin’?” Peter arched a silver brow, pressing the phone handset closer to his cheek. As if doing so might somehow help him hear you more clearly.

It really wasn’t that big of a deal either way. You borrowed his jackets all the time. Peter never thought anything of it before this conversation. Aside from the fact that - when you did return them, he loved the sweet scent you left behind. The smell of your perfume, with the added bonus of your natural pheromones…

Ебать (Fuck)! Why was he even thinking about this? The two of you had such a casual thing goin’ on. But now, Peter thought of you in a different light. Something friskier. Not that he meant to. Maybe killer boredom + cute friend = horny speedster. Or perhaps the planets aligned in some totally off-the-wall way.

Whatever the case, Peter’s mind raced on autopilot. He pictured the way you might look right now. In your room, spread across your bed in nothing but your underwear and - Ебена мать (Holy shit) - his jacket. With your long legs bare, your knees bumping together as you squeezed your thighs shut. Tummy exposed. And your tits-

Woooooooah there! Slow down, casanova! Peter shouldn’t be…nah, he really shouldn’t be wondering what your breasts looked like. Ppfffbbbbt …’kay, so, maybe in the past he thought about it once or twice. But what dude wouldn't contemplate the hidden mystery of a pal's titties sometimes, ah?

“Well, so what if I did? That doesn’t weird you out, does it?” You asked, a careful waver in your voice.

“Uhhhh…nahhh, babe. Just…” Peter shifted in place, rerouting his thoughts, “Just…got one hell of an image in my head. Might’ve pictured you like that for no particular reason at all.”

Lucky for him, you didn’t seem to think anything of his confession.

“Not much to imagine…” You replied. Сомнительно (Doubtful).

“I mean…pffbbbttt…sure, yeah. Maybe not.” Peter awkwardly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. His voice dropped, a little more hushed, “Unless…you’re wearin’ some really cute panties over there.” Again, he laughed, rushing out a quick, “I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m kiddin’. I’m totally messin’. Just bustin’ your balls, babe.”

Except…he sorta wasn’t. Peter found himself oh-so curious. Twisting the phone's orange wire around his finger, he anticipated your reaction. Anxious you might think him weird for pushing things too far. Never had the two of you charted this kind of territory. It was a minefield, with a 95% chance neither one would make it out unscathed.

“I guess? I think they’re kind of cute.” You added, innocent as ever. Awesome. You weren’t peeved at him, at least. Peter brought the phone to his chest, exhaling an anxious breath to calm his racing heart. When he put the phone to his ear again, he figured you’d moved on. But your cadence shifted. To test the boundaries of your friendship, you teased, “They’re pretty small on me, though.”

Ah. Ah. Интересно. Очень интересно (Interesting. Very interesting). What an unexpected but totally wicked development. Peter lowered himself slowly onto the couch, setting the phone's base on the side table. He eased backwards into the cushions, and tightened his twisting of the phone wire. Swallowing hard, Peter found he had difficulty focusing. Especially with his imagination running so goddamn wild.

“Yeah? …How small is pretty small?” He dared to ask.

Long seconds of silence ticked by at the pace of a narcoleptic sloth. If Peter weren’t so eager to hear what you had to say, he may have torn his hair out. Over the line, you laughed.

“Small enough they barely cover my ass? Why are you so curious all of a sudden?” You cooed.

Peter fluttered his inky eyes, nibbling chapped skin on his lip. Fuzzy pink swarmed the rest of his face, as his mind conjured images of you so effortlessly. Clear as day. Heat stirred to life in his groin, and Peter pictured the way your plush cheeks might hold in tight painties. His breath hitched.

“I-uh…” Peter felt the heat in his cheeks creep down his neck, flustered at lightspeed, “Just thinkin’...maybe you should do somethin’ about that?” He gritted his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. What a lame response, “Черт возьми (damn it)!” He huffed under his breath, too quiet for you to hear.

Toying with this newly discovered sexual tension, Peter humorously asked-

“Sooooooo…what color?”

You giggled into the receiver, airy and light. His body registered the noise somewhere , down south of his belly. He wondered if you were as flustered as him. And the visual of your bashful face and shy smile had his heartbeat ramping up to mach 10.

“What? A-Are you for real asking me…oh my god, dude!” Your giggles turned into goofy snorts. Which he found so endearing. Once you composed yourself, you spoke again. Though, your tone came off as more flirtatious, “If you really wanna know so bad…then fine. They’re black. Lacy. With a little bow on the front.”

Дерьмо (Shit)...

His silver brows soared high, disappearing under his bangs. Paying little attention to his instinctive actions, Peter guided his free hand between his thighs. Inwardly, he told himself he was only adjusting his uncomfortable hard-on. ‘Cuz it’d be totally weird if he did anything else…right? Best to ignore the movement of his thumb, as it absentmindedly circled his bulge.

“Huh…that’s so…” Peter blinked, clearing his throat and masking his nerves with a chuckle, “‘Kay, I’ll be up front with you, babe. That sounds cute as hell. Very nice.”

“Really? Oh, please, Peter. They’d be cute on anybody.” You scoffed.

“Uh huh…” He smirked, dropping his tone even lower, “‘Cept, now that I’m really thinkin’ about it? I’m bettin’ they look criminally cute on you.” Peter lazily smirked.

You laughed, breathless like you ran a thousand miles, “Wh-...what are we even doing right now? Seriously, why am I talking to you about my-” The uneasiness in your voice bled through the line.

Your concern was for good reason. Nevertheless, Peter interrupted you mid-sentence.

“Easy there, chuckles. We’re just chatting. Nothin’ too unusual, right? We’ve had some seriously raunchy conversations before. Remember? That time I got laid on a golf course? You told me about that time some dude shot a load in your eye. What’s the difference, anyway?” Peter grimaced, as he recalled your story from eons ago.

You giggled yet again, “Peter, you know damn well what the difference is!” You clarified with a sigh, still playful. The phone wire went slack around his finger, as Peter second guessed himself. He parted his lips, on the cusp of apologizing. Bringing one hand up to the phone, he held it loosely. Your sugary voice chimed again, “I’m kinda wondering, though…what would you think if I told you I’m topless right now?”

His grip compressed around the handset.

“Topless, huh?” Peter cast a quick glance at his hard-on, twitching painfully under his boxers. His mind jumped straight to sinful places again. Peter thought about what your tits probably look like, embraced in his jacket. Nipples hard, grazing the inner-lining. He swallowed, “What’re you tryna tell me? You gonna drive over here in nothin’ but that?” Peter quipped.

A more sultry laugh melted through the receiver. Peter trembled, as your smooth voice coaxed him like a tempting song. His free palm squeezed his bulge, putting pressure to his length over fabric. Peter’s brows turned inward, and he fluttered his eyes shut.

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad, if it wasn’t so cold outside. It’s freezing today. I don’t know how you can run as fast as you do when the weather’s like this.” Your tone disguised itself with lighthearted innocence again, “It’s not any warmer in my room either. My nipples could cut glass. They’re, like, soooo hard.”

Peter adjusted himself on the sofa, giving the swell of his bulge another teasing squeeze.

“ Ты маленькая соблазнительница (you little temptress)...” His hot breath fanned the phone.

“I love it when you talk like that…” You replied, “Even if I have no idea what you’re saying. It sounds really hot, to be totally honest.”

“Oh, yeah?” Peter teased his lip with his teeth, speaking in a more flirtatious voice; buttery smooth, “ Я забыл вынести мусор (I forgot to take out the trash)...” For added effect - just to embarrass you more - he tacked on a husky moan.

Peter made himself blush, as the sound came out far more pornagraphic than he intended. The rasp of his voice scraped through the line in a hushed, “ Oh, yeah, baby. ”

The erotic tension you felt from his teasing was palpable, even over the phone. Peter could sense the shift in the way you gasped. So faint, so shy, so cute.

“Oh…oh, wow...uhm…” You tried concealing your bashfulness with more of those candy coated giggles. But Peter could practically hear the blood racing to your cheeks, “What’s that mean? Something good, I hope.”

Peter bit his tongue, lips turning in a cheeky grin.

“It means you’re really turnin’ me on…”

Another hesitant pause fell between the two of you, before you scoffed.

“Oh my god, no it doesn’t! I can hear you laughing!” You griped, snickering along with Peter. A few more tension heavy beats pulsed over the line. You spoke again, “Hey…I’m sorry. Can I put things on pause for a sec? I just wanted to ask…are you okay with this?”

“Are you?” Peter gently asked, giving you ample time to think about it.

“I don’t know…maybe…” You whispered, “Isn’t this, like, super weird for you?”

“I mean…suuuuuuure. It’s totally weird. If you kept goin', I wouldn't be into it...at all...” He bullied you with a playful edge, hoping you could read the flirtatious undertone in his voice.

“Ohhhhh…you wouldn't be?” Judging by the saucy lilt in your voice, you most definitely caught on, “You know what would be even weirder?”

Peter adjusted on the sofa again. Getting comfortable, he laid on his back. His taut legs stretched across the cushions, and Peter propped his head on the couch’s arm.

“Whazzat? Enlighten me, babe. I’m listenin’. You got my full attention.” He teased.

“Your full attention, huh? I must be doing something right.” You snickered, “So…you know how I said I love it when you talk…like that?” Your voice wavered, “What I really meant was-uhm…when you do that on the phone…it makes me kind of horny.”

His brown hues burst open, wider than ever. Peter’s pupils dilated, expanding as far as the universe itself. He swallowed again, his mouth falling open. Your filthy confession set his arousal ablaze, making his dick twitch. As heated desire took over, Peter couldn’t restrain himself. He snuck his fingers under the waistband of his boxers, fingertips gliding over silver hairs. A small piece of him almost felt guilty for doing so.

“It does, huh? Хорошо знать (Good to know).” Peter whispered, tenderly grasping his shaft.

You made a naughty squeak of a noise in response, “Y-Yeah, Peter, I’m serious. You really have to stop doing that.”

“Почему (Why)? Are you soakin’ yourself over it? Gettin’ a lil wet? It’s cool. You can tell me…” Peter heckled, expelling a breath as he gave his dick a single tug.

“Oh, I bet you wanna know all about that, huh? You’re so bad, Quickie...” You teased, clicking your tongue.

Peter’s ears burned, turning pink as he took in the coquettish nature of your voice. Scoffing, he feigned his indignance.

“What?! Hey, nah nah nah! You started this! Это несправедливо, черт возьми (it’s not fair. Dammit)!” Peter laughed, carefree with you as always, “You can’t seriously drop a bombshell like that and expect me not to-”

“Not to come running?” You hummed, sweet tempered, “I’m just messing with you, baby. But since we’re on the topic…I made such a mess of these little panties. Just from listening to your voice.”

Peter couldn’t even pretend he didn’t like the sound of ‘baby’ on your tongue.

“Oh, man…anything but the panties…” He joked, “You should-uh…you should save yourself some trouble. Y’know…take ‘em off, maybe? Might be more comfortable.” Peter hinted, playing nonchalant, “Just tryna be a good friend. Give you some advice. You should for sure take it.”

“But I’m already so cold…” You whimpered, “Your jacket’s so warm. Smells good too. Really good. But it’s not enough to keep me covered.” You spoke with flirtatious innocence, and Peter played along.

“No harm done, принцесса (princess). I’ll warm you up if you need me to.” He reassured, sweet talking you over the phone, “Ты думаешь, что я не позабочусь о тебе? (Do you think I won't take care of you)?" Peter mumbled again. He listened to your sickly sweet laughs, before asking, “So…do you get like this every time we talk on the phone?”

“Mmmm…maybe.” You hummed, “What if I said yes?” You shuffled around again, and Peter’s mind jumped elsewhere. He imagined you shed yourself of damp, black lace. Leaving you wanton and needy in nothing but his jacket, “You know…we’ve been talking about me a lot this whole time. You wanna tell me what you’re wearing? I don’t really have a visual.”

“Oh…me?” Your request caught Peter off guard.

“Yeah, you. Who else, blockhead?” You playfully quipped, smoothing your voice to say, “You don’t have to be shy. I just wanna know, so I can think about taking it off of you.”

Peter didn’t know he could blush this much. Puffing a bashful laugh, he looked down at his body. Mostly nude and toned enough. He had his x-gene to thank for his pecs and hard abs. A fluffy bouquet of silver hairs peeked out from his boxers. Underneath, his dick throbbed, pressing eagerly into fabric.

“Uhm…I’m not wearin’ a lot? Nothin’ special. Just some black, boxer briefs, I guess. Wait, no-” Peter lifted a foot, his lips curling in a goofy smile, “Got my Star Wars socks on too.”

A sensual moan graced his ears, “That’s so hot.” You softly whined, “Star Wars socks? Peter, just take me now.”

Despite the fact you were totally messing with him, that playful comment made his chest tight.

“Nothing else though?” You pressed.

“Nnnnnnnnnnope.” He drew out the word, popping the P, “Just the-uh…yeah. Boxers ‘n sexy socks. Not much to take off.”

“And you’re pretty fit, aren’t you? You always looked really jacked to me, so-” You said.

Peter cocked a brow, snickering to cover his embarrassment.

“Wooooahhh…you been checkin’ me out, babe?” He asked, darting his dark hues across his athletic bod. Peter flexed an arm, “Sure, I guess I’m in decent shape.” He found he couldn’t dismiss your compliments. Peter looked good, and he knew it. But he preferred hearing it from you, “Hey, you wanna know somethin’, like, way crazy?”

“This? What we’re doing right now is so crazy, right?” You laughed, sounding as bashful as him.

Peter snickered, “True. Truuuue. But, uh…” He shrank in his spot on the couch, pressing the vibrant handset closer into his cheek. Pre-cum seeped through his boxers, as Peter tugged his dick steady and slow. Careful not to stimulate himself too much yet. He dropped his voice to a hushed rasp, “I’m kinda in the same spot you are right now. If you-uh…if you catch my drift.”

The two of you knew each other for a long time. Several years, in fact. But never once did Peter think he’d hear his closest pal say-

“Ohhhh. Are you hard right now, baby?”

Oh. Yeah, this buddy-buddy friendship was in major trouble. Doomed to crash and burn. As soon as the words fell from your lips, spoken in your honeyed voice; Peter’s breath hitched in his throat. He sank his teeth so hard into his lip, he almost broke skin.

“Y-Yeah. Since you-uh…started talkin’ about your panties. I’m sorry, babe. Just been kinda bored and worked up all day.” He sheepishly chuckled.

“You poor baby…” You coddled him over the phone. And while he should’ve been embarrassed, Peter had no problem with you talking like that, “Can I ask how big you are?”

Peter stalled for a moment, before pulling the front of his boxers down. His hardness flopped against his belly, pulsating and ruddy from his teasing. Taking his aching length in his hand, he rubbed the underside with his thumb.

“You mean my dick? It’s-uhhhh…like six, maybe seven inches almost?” He squeezed his cock, milking beads of pre-cum, “But size doesn’t matter, yeah? It’s the motion of the ocean, babe.”

“Noooooo, baby. You’re so perfect. Wish I could see how good you look like that…” You cooed over the phone.

Your kindly words and airy tone made the veins in his dick throb with electric heat. Peter clutched his cock tight, pumping the velvet skin a touch faster. Giving himself just a simple taste of relief. His stomach clenched, hardening his abs.

“Не так идеально, как ты выглядишь (Not as perfect as you look)...” Peter muttered, drawing in a shallow breath, “Babe, I gotta tell ya, I’m really feelin’ this. I’m so into you right now. W-Want you to keep talkin’ like-uh...”

His imagination took his depravity to the next level. Now, Peter thought about joining you in your room. He wondered how soft and smooth your skin would feel. Supple and hot under his fingertips. What might you look like writhing under him, whimpering as he played with you? As he teased you? Man, you were both so screwed.

“Never thought dirty talking with me would turn you on so much…” You giggled.

Peter secured the handset between his cheek and shoulder. With both hands free, he raised his palm to his lips. He drew a long stripe with his tongue, bringing his damp hand to his cock. The slick lubrication pulled a gentle moan from his throat.

“M-Maybe a little bit. Ебать (Fuck), maybe a lot.” Peter groaned, labored in his breathing, “Can you - Ебать (fuck) - you wanna do somethin’ for me? Just a little favor between friends? S’all I’m askin’, baby.”

“Anything you want, Peter.” You mewled.

“Can you- mmmmohgod -” Peter choked up. He almost chickened out, but pushed himself to ask, “Can you touch yourself for me? Please? Пожалуйста, моя маленькая принцесса (Please, my little princess)...” His foreign whispers weaved pretty whimpers from your lips.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that, if you want me to. But you have to do the same for me too. It’s only fair, right? Equal exchange?” You whispered, acting playful again.

Peter breathed a guilty chuckle, “Uhm…yeahhhhh…about that…”

You softly gasped, “Have you been-”

“Playin’ with my dick this whole time? Maybe.” Peter admitted. His thumb caught another pearl of pre, spreading the slickness over his sensitive head, “But I’m not, like, totally jerkin’ it yet…” He lied, pressing you to encourage him.

“Oh, you’re not, huh? What are you doing then?” You asked, “Are you being a bad boy, Pietro?” The abrupt drop of his given name shocked him into silence.

Peter felt his groin tighten, and an exhilarating rush electrified his nerves. For the thousandth time, you giggled. And for the thousandth time, Peter’s heart leapt. Dumbfounded, he gathered his composure and played along again.

“Y-Yeah. So bad. You gotta help me, babe. I’m just-...I’m so hard. Don’t think I can stop myself if you keep talkin’ like that.”

Through the receiver, Peter’s ears caught wind of a needy mewl. He gripped his cock hard, guiding his fist in firmer strokes. His legs quivered, and the heels of his Star Wars socks slid across the couch.

“Does it feel good when you touch your pretty cock like that, sweetheart?” You cooed.

Peter almost went straight into cardiac arrest. He jolted in place, feeling his cock stiffen in his grasp.

“Святой трах (Holy fuck)..." Peter suffocated on his own groans. For an instant, his words failed him, “Uhmmm…hah…wow-uh…Ебать (fuck). Feels good, yeah. Don’t think it’s enough. I need-...uhm…I want-uh…”

“Yeah? What do you want, baby. It’s okay.” You spoke so sugary sweet again.

“I-...Я просто хочу увидеть тебя (I just want to see you)...” Peter’s veins tingled under his touch, as he tugged his dick with more urgency, “Shit! I-...how come I never knew you could be like this-” And to Peter’s ultimate humiliation, he whimpered your name. Along with another whiny, “ Ебать (Fuck). ”

“Like what?” Your coy voice teased him over the line.

“I dunno…so-uh…so damn nasty.” He joked, and even through the phone; he knew he had you flustered again.

“I guess we all have our secrets, hmm? Tell me more, Pietro. When you touch yourself like that. With those big, strong hands…how’s it feel?” You asked, driving him to keep going.

Peter snorted a laugh, “Strong hands? What??” His endearing playfulness took a backseat, as he grunted into the receiver, “God…feels like my strong hand’s not enough. Мне реально тебе нужно прямо сейчас. Нужна так сильно (I really need you right now. I need you so much).” His voice fell to a whisper. Pumping his slick, crimson cock through his fist, he breathlessly pleaded, “Talk to me, baby. Please. Tell me-ohhh…tell me what you’re doin’ over there.”

You squealed a sultry giggle, further igniting Peter’s pleasured frenzy. He squirmed in his spot on the sofa, forcing himself to stay put. Battling the forces of the universe, it was all Peter could do not to race to your room. Just to spread your legs and hump you like a speedy bunny.

“Mmmm…I’m just doing what you asked me to…I’m being so good for you right now.” You whimpered.

“Oh. Okay…uhm…far out. Uh…wanna gimme the steamy details?” He heckled again, fumbling his words in his nervousness, “Please, don’t hold off on me, baby.”

“I’m…” Your precious voice wavered, teeming with awkwardness as your confidence dwindled, “I’m playing with my little pussy. Just for you. And I’m so wet. I can’t stop thinking about your hands…so big…”

“Боже мой (my god).” Peter muttered. Combating impatience brought upon by his genes, he willed himself to take things slow. His strokes became steady and teasing, as he edged his aching cock, “Holy shit, babe. Yeah? Keep goin’...”

You moaned soft squeals into the receiver, “I want you so bad, Quickie. Please, baby, don’t make me beg. Can you touch this little pussy for me? Please? Your fingers are so big. I don’t think they’d fit all at once. It’s been a while, and I’m so tight.” Your naughty voice pleaded.

“God, I wanna touch you so bad. Я хочу прикоснуться к этой сладкой киске (I want to touch that sweet pussy).” Peter’s impatience got the better of him, and he quickly gave in. He grasped his cock hard, wringing himself fast enough to make his balls bounce. Creasing his brows, he groaned, “Ohhh..What’re you tryna to do to me, babe? Talkin’ about how tight you are…Ебать…”

“But I ammmm.” You whined again, “I’m squeezing my tiny fingers so tight. It’s so soft and hot for you. Bet it’d feel really good if you stretched me. With your fingers, with your cock - fuck, Pietro. I just need you, baby.”

“Please, baby, oh, please? Wanna be inside you. Wanna feel you. I promise I won’t go too fast. Я обещаю (I promise).” Peter whimpered. But as you mewled again, another forceful wave of carnal heat crashed over Peter. In a quieter tone, he choked, “Нет, я могу. Я пойду так быстро (No, I can. I’ll go so fast).”

“Pietro, you can go as fast as you want, baby. I won’t stop you.” You pleaded, your broken voice so kittenish and wanton, “F-Fuck. I’m rubbing my clit. So sensitive. Thinking about you. Thinking about your mouth on me.”

“Ебать!!” Peter moaned through clenched teeth. His self control rapidly abandoned him. Speedily rutting his sore cock through the squeeze of his fist, his body refused to slow down, “Говоря о скорости (Speaking of speed)...” Peter craned his neck back, raising a hand to keep the handset to his ear, “You gotta stop makin’ all those cute noises, baby. Please…I can’t-”

As surges of horny pleasure circulated through his body, Peter thought of you again. He imagined you on your bed, caged under him between his arms. In his daydreams, he kissed you intimately, touching your pretty, naked body. Peter wanted to feel how wet you were for himself. And hell, the danger of pushing your friendship past its limits made you more tempting. Such a lewd, risky thought pushed him closer to the edge of something righteous.

“Baby, I wanna see you. Can I? Can I see you stroke that thick cock? Would you let me? Ohh, fuck, Pietro.” You whimpered. And your noises were so shamelessly lecherous, you could’ve made a pornstar blush, “Can I kiss it, please? Can I kiss your big cock?” You whimpered.

“О боже мой, пожалуйста (Oh my god, please)!” Peter choked, every word hitching in his throat, “Baby…babe, you can’t do this. Ya really can’t be-” He laughed lazily, his dark eyes falling half lidded. His cock throbbed, bright red and turning purple at the tip. He rutted in a speedy blur, “Stop. Stop. Stop. I’m gonna…babe, I’m gonna bust-” He slurred.

You squealed his name as loudly as your hushed voice would allow. And Peter swore he could hear the slick sound of your fingers. As they played with your pretty, little cunt.

“I’m gonna cum, baby. Please cum with me. Please? Pietro, OH~!”

“я кончаю, я кончаю (I’m cumming, I’m cumming)! ‘M Gonna-” Peter’s moans seeped through the receiver, his wet lips parting and mouth hanging open.

His swollen cock erupted in white-hot jets, coating his pecs and belly. With all his muscles tensed, Peter’s legs trembled. He rode out those lusty waves in tandem with you. The pleasure of orgasm sounded leagues more intense on your side. You took longer to cruise through it, whimpering and moaning Peter’s name. As you did, Peter basked in his momentary afterglow. Keeping the phone pressed to his ear, his head resting on the arm of the sofa; he listened to you with a smirk on his lips. At the end of your journey in ecstasy, your moans turned into flustered giggles.

Peter's thoughts reeled him in again. Imagining you, looking so sheepish and fine in his jacket. Now, he desperately wanted the real deal. To see you in all your post-nut glory. Mere seconds later, his sore cock pulsed to life again. As his hardness squirmed on his belly, Peter breathed another sigh.

On his end, you heard nothing but silence. You kept calling his name, your tired voice infused with anxiety.

“Uhm…Peter? Hey…are you there?” You asked.

And he didn't say a single word more.

#peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #txt #im terrified this is like...not as decent as my usual but whatever !!

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