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safetypinxtales · 2 months

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400 years | Azriel

summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.

words: 3.2k

warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description

notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍

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Thud.

The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either.

But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel.

The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks.

“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”

Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles.

That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries.

“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.

Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.

It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites.

Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.

You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy.

The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.

It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.

“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes.

“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about?

“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”

The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.

“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”

Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room.

The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic.

Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.

“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands.

Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.

“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”

“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.

“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.

Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…

You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–

“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is that Rhysand?!”

At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you.

The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord.

You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics.

“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!”

The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.

And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….

“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.

The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look.

“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.

His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.

“Oh, please.”

The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.

“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”

Nothing?

From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.

“What? Like you can do better?”

Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.

One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours.

He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.

“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.”

The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa.

No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating.

You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement.

He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…

You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield.

His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours.

“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.

You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”

With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks.

“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away.

With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled.

You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…

You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him.

Let me be your muse.

His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…

Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking.

The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing.

A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother.

The reality?

Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him.

Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.

Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment.

You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers.

You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.

It made it annoyingly hard to focus.

The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped.

“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his.

Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”

400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes.

“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist.

That is a very long time.

Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl.

“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before.

It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong?

You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.”

Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat.

Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye.

The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes.

It took your breath away.

“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head.

His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet.

“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.”

That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face.

“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.

His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.

That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.

There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you.

So dangerously close.

He was your friend.

Right?

“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.”

You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.

“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.

“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”

You froze.

The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.

Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth.

Azriel loved you?

Azriel loved you.

The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his.

The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage.

He was everywhere.

The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible.

You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air.

You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest.

“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness.

He swallowed, “It is.”

“So is mine,” you revealed.

“Yes, I can hear it.”

Oh.

“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out.

Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his.

This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.

His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.

Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.

This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.

It was claiming.

And so you let him claim you.

Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.

A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.

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tags: @missus-shadowsinger

#acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine

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lazybutsmexy · 7 months

Text

Tea

Simón "Ghost" Riley X GN!reader

Warnings: ANGST, hurt no comfort, mayor character death(s).

A/N: is... is this what I chose as my comeback? I'm sorry, I hope to be able to write something fluffy soon.

Read on AO3

"...Ghost?"

"...Yeah?"

Your eyes are locked to the sky. The hues of gray that prelude an autumn shower used to comfort you. Strangely enough, what's most comforting to you at this moment is hearing your Lieutenant's voice answer you back, from somewhere to your left.

"...I have a confession to make."

"...Go on."

You inch your head sideways, trying to peek a glance at his face, but the stiffness of your neck prevent you from doing so. Maybe it's for the best. From the corner of your eye you can see part of his hip and his right leg, over a carpet of dark red that you don't need a creative imagination to think about its nature, or its origin.

You saw him get shot.

"I'm the one that took your last tea bag," you offer, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you'd get so grumpy about it."

A low sigh reaches your ears, and you can catch the hint of an almost imperceptible stutter in his breathing.

"...Never suspected you," he hums, every word calculated as if it could be his last -it may as well be, "you don't drink tea."

"No, I don't," you agree, "but you do." Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth once again, as it has happened for the last few- minutes? Hours? Who knows anymore? "I wanted to surprise you with-... with a cuppa when we got to t-the safehouse..."

You clearly should've followed his example and kept your sentences short, you think as your diaphragm painfully struggles to keep your lungs filled with oxygen.

"...You make shit tea though," he grumbled - now you can clearly hear the wheeze hidden in his breathing.

"... would've made it wi' luv," your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and you try not to think of the amount of time you've gradually lost sensation in your body. Instead, you try to peek at him again as you hear a slow ruffle of movement, and this time an ungloved hand comes to your field of vision.

Open face up. Inviting.

You don't think twice and muster whatever little strength you have in your body to move your left hand closer to his.

If the struggle makes you tear up, you don't care. If your pained whimpers break his heart, he doesn't comment on it.

He just grasps your hand as soon as there's skin-on-skin contact, thankful that there's still warmth on your fingers.

Fading, but still there.

"...Didn't say... I wouldn't drink it."

"...Yer' too kind, sir..." Your ears feel like padded in cotton, but you can still hear yourself. If you had any energy - or air in your lungs - you would laughed at how much you started sounding like Soap. "...'s an hon'r to be wi' you, Lt..."

Several seconds passed in silence, and you think you won't get any more answers, and mentally prepare yourself to close your eyes one last time.

But there's something happening with your hand in his.

One squeeze.

Pause.

Another squeeze.

And a last one.

"... waited too long to tell you," his voice reaches you again, watery and choked up, " hope tis' works..."

Go figure, you still had tears to shed. Or is it the rain droplets finally landing on your skin? You don't know. You don't care.

You try to reciprocate, but can only apply three soft squeezes with the pads of your thumb on the soft muscle between his thumb and index fingers.

The choked up sob you hear is a good guess that he received your reply.

"...'m sleepy," your whisper reaches him, and he mourns the lost time.

He's never void of regrets, isn't he?

"...g'night, luv," he tries to sound warm to you, always.

"...g'night, Simon..."

Oh, how sweet his name sounds, coming from your lips in a whisper.

Taglist: @warenai @queen-of-hearts-lemon-tarts @embers-of-alluring

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#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #gn reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod angst #simon ghost riley angst #... sorry😔

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citruslullabies · 2 months

Note

That last DogDay x reader fic was too cute (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) Would you pretty please do DD with a reader who jumps on CatNap's back to protect him only to be knocked over, and that's when DD finally finds the courage to fight his former best friend? I would appreciate some fluff afterwards 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you!

Btw, your blog's aesthetic is so pretty :3c 🩷

Coming right up!! And awh, thank you! That's so sweet<333

Trigger warnings: blood, descriptions of violence

Requested by: anonymous 🩷

Romantic/platonic?: neutral (not specified)

Category: angst ending with fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): Dogday x reader

Word count: 620

You Saved Me, So I’ll Save You

Finding a friend with so many foes was a rare thing for your situation, but you were lucky enough to have found Dogday. The canine, despite its lack of legs, was loyal and forever in your debt for your kindness. You were his angel, his savior. That's why he never wanted you to get hurt.

But catnap ambushed you two, leaving you to try and defend two smaller beings against one large one with a bigger advantage. He watched in horror as Catnap approached him with eyes so dark and cruel, knowing that his former best friend would be the one to take his life.. or so he had thought. He slowly opened his eyes when he heard a loud cat-like scream echo the abandoned building, looking up to see you on his back while he was trying to get you off like some bull-riding competition.

“Dogday! Quick, get his legs or ankles or just, something-!” You called out desperately, feeling the large cats spine dig into your stomach and chest as you dug your feet into its ribs to try and balance yourself to stay on. Dogday tried to run with his old re-stitched back on legs, but found himself in a predicament.. he couldn't hurt Catnap. He couldn't bring himself to do so, the idea alone made him feel nauseated.

But that feeling quickly disappeared when he saw you fall and hit your head roughly against the ground, causing you to lose consciousness. His eyes widened as he panicked. “ANGEL!” he yelled out as he quickly dove to get to you, lifting your still breathing body up to his as he caressed your head.

“Angel? Angel wake up!” He said, panicking. His eyes only left from your face when he heard the crooning of a feline behind him, as if it was cackling as it moved at your despair. His body acted before his brain did, growling and quickly charging at the monster In front of him. That thing wasn't Catnap, it was a monster. Catnap had died in the hour of joy, a monster being housed inside of his former friend's body instead.

You gained consciousness with blurry vision, feeling bandages being wrapped around your head in various ways as if Dogday didn't know how to properly bandage your wound. He got it to stop bleeding so heavily, but he wanted to cover it quickly. You spoke up hoarsely. “Dogday..?” You asked in a weak wheeze, causing his ears to practically shoot up in relief. He immediately hugged you close and tight. “Oh god.. Angel, I.. I was so worried I thought.. I thought I lost you for a moment!” He said through whimpers and whines.

His fur was matted with blood, specifically around his mouth and paws. But he didn't care about that right now as he snuggled his head against you and held you dearly. You blinked slowly as you remembered what had happened.. before mustering your strength to sit up and hold Dogday close, cradling his head against your chest. You sighed and rubbed his back, smiling warmly at him. “Hey.. hey.. it's okay. I'm okay, see? I'm right here.”

Despite your reassurances, the dog continued to pathetically whine and nuzzle against you as tears fell from his eyes. “I'm so glad you're alive, I don't know what would've happened if I lost you. I don't want to imagine a world without you in it, Angel.” He said softly through sniffles. You carefully scratched behind his ear and felt him relax in your warm touch, your weak eyes filled with relief and adoration as you comforted him with a warm smile.

“I don't want to imagine a world without you in it either, sunshine..”

Thank you for the request!

#smiling critters #dogday x y/n #dogday #dogday x reader #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime

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tervaneula · 1 month

Note

u said leoichi drabble prompt request. consider. one injured and the other protecting them and then the injured one has to calm them down bc 'they're okay, really, promise, rest now'

OKAY SO this fused with a ghost of an idea I've had for a while and it ended up being a bit more serious than the prompt called for and a lot longer than just a drabble. (It's ~1120 words.) CW: blood and injury

Also I made a silly header thing I don't know what to do with, so I'm putting it here since this fic doesn't come with art of its own :'3

“Yui, I’m okay–”

The rabbit turns his head to look at him, furious.

“I heard your shell crack, Leonardo, and I'm not an idiot! Now stay down and let me handle this!”

He falls quiet for a moment before redirecting his glare towards their adversary and then adds a muted, “Please.”

There's no compromising with Yuichi in this state, apparently, and Leonardo stays right where he got crushed between metal claws and the concrete, splayed on the ground next to those very same claws which had gotten swiftly cut from the wrist for their transgressions.

He does roll onto his side to get his body weight off his shell, and yeah, alright, one or more of the old cracks that never healed properly must have split open again. It's tough to breathe and his back feels… His kimono is sticking to his shell and his back feels wet now that he's paying attention, and that. That is not good.

Just his luck to run into a massive mecha wreaking havoc on an otherwise lovely day, huh. He wasn't even supposed to be on patrol and thus is embarrassingly swordless.

Good thing that his date and their resident samurai always carries his.

The slider watches as Yuichi does quick work of the metal hunk's wiring behind its knees, his frighteningly sharp katana slicing through the cables like butter. The mech falls with a ground-shaking rumble, unable to rise again, arm flailing as it tries to catch the rabbit. It's no use, Yuichi is much smaller and faster – and as soon as he reaches the mech's head, it's already rolling. The construct immediately loses power and Yuichi wrenches the windowed hatch in its chest open. Turns out there's no pilot, just a program-operated dashboard, and he makes sure that none of the controls are functional after he's done with them.

Leonardo thinks he could watch Yuichi trash villains all day long, he's practically mesmerised by the strength hidden in that soft frame despite his shell throbbing unpleasantly in tandem with his heartbeat. He sighs, lovestruck.

As his final move, Yuichi thrusts his katana into the heart of the mecha and Leonardo sees a spray of ink-black oil splash all over Yuichi's face and the front of his kimono. It makes him laugh and he realises his mistake too late, his lungs struggling to draw breath again as he finally gets hit with the pain, his body trying to stop him from moving; from causing any more damage. Shit, shit, shit.

He had hoped he wouldn’t need to bother any of his brothers today since he was supposed to spend the whole day with Yuichi but he knows to pick his battles, now. He opens the comm link embedded in his prosthetic, contacting someone who he knows will pick up.

“Che~ello!” comes the cheerful answer in just a few seconds, and Leonardo can't help but smile.

“Mikeyyy, hermano, I'm in a bit of a pickle,” he wheezes, feeling the shift in his little brother's energy as soon as he hears the strain in his voice.

“Leo? Are you okay?”

“Not really, no,” Leonardo grunts. “Got into a scuffle with some big haywire robot– don’t worry, that’s taken care of. I suspect Donnie will want to scrap it for parts. Um. My shell’s– my shell’s cracked though.”

Leonardo can vividly imagine the colour draining from Michelangelo's face and it would be funny if he wasn't acutely aware of a broken shell coming with the very real possibility of his innards turning into outnards.

“I'm calling Draxy. Stay put, I'll get Lee to pick you up.”

“Right,” Leonardo sighs, the line going out just when Yuichi is finally done with the mech and rushing to his side, face haphazardly wiped from oil. His gaze is sharp as he kneels next to him, sweaty and out of breath, and Leonardo thinks he looks like a knight. Or maybe like a samurai of the old, in this case.

“There’s my hero,” he coos before Yuichi can get a word out and the rabbit’s brow furrows.

“Don’t start,” he snaps but his tone softens almost immediately, “I saw you calling someone. It’s bad, isn’t it? It… it looks really bad.”

“Yeeeah, this kimono is definitely ruined,” Leonardo laments, “unless you know how to, gh, get blood out of corduroy? No? Or the obi?”

Yuichi stares.

“A– a shame, really, I did like this one a lot–”

“Leonardo!” Yuichi interrupts him and grabs his bicep, looking two seconds away from crying. Leonardo frowns. He knows he’s getting a little delirious but he was sincerely trying his best to lift his mate’s mood.

“Leon, please, you’re rambling. Is someone coming? Can I do anything?”

“‘m not rambling,” Leonardo grumbles, hissing when he fills his lungs again. “Leo’s coming to get us, Draxy– Draxum will treat the shell. And no, better keep the obi in place until we get to the medbay.”

Yuichi’s shoulders slump and he sighs, most likely relieved that he’s not going to have to figure out how to deal with a cracked shell. Leonardo does not like the lingering worry in Yuichi’s gaze one bit, though, and he offers him a grin. It’s a little shaky but whatever.

“Heeey, bunbun. Listen. This is nothing I haven’t been through before. I’ll be fine.”

Yuichi gives him an honest-to-God kicked-puppy look and Leonardo thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen in his life. He almost tells him so but Yuichi cups his cheek and his forced grin melts away into surprised silence.

“I hate seeing you hurt,” Yuichi murmurs, leaning down to press his forehead against Leonardo’s. The slider’s eyes flutter shut and he lifts his hand to hold onto Yuichi’s wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I mean it. I should’ve been more careful.”

Yuichi huffs and leans away to gently bump their foreheads together.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Maybe, but ’m still sorry. Didn’t want to worry you.”

“You’re an idiot,” Yuichi says, exasperated. “You should know that at this point, I’ll always worry.”

Leonardo grins and this time it’s genuine. Breathing in his partner’s scent is like a balm to him, even if it’s tinged with the bitterness of motor oil, even if his body currently thinks that breathing is overrated. Even if he just got called an idiot by none other than said partner.

“Raincheck on the date?” he mumbles, and finally he gets a chuckle out of the rabbit. Yuichi straightens his back and flicks him on the nose.

“Like you even needed to ask. Idiot.”

Before Leonardo can express his displeasure of being called an idiot for a second time there’s the familiar electric hum of a portal opening behind him, and someone whistles.

“Sheesh, old man. That kimono is definitely ruined.”

#NOT PROOFREAD I had to stop myself because every time I tried to check this over I kept writing MORE and that's just not sustainable #sdfghhsfghjafsfd #anyway these peepaws gay #rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fanfiction #leoichi #peepaw leo #peepaw yuichi #other characters mentioned + a cameo from #rise leo #future leonardo #future leo #samurai rabbit #usagi chronicles #yuichi usagi #usagi yuichi #tervdraws #tervdrabbles

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asuyaka · 4 months

Note

GUESS WHO'S CLASSES ARE FINALLY OVER GIRLIES💃💃

Damn, it's been a heck of a while since I last came back to this blog--

Anyways! I've been following the new JJK episodes(I am not fine and it's all Mahito's fault.), so to put a bandage on his gap in my chest, how about some reverse comfort shot for our boy Yuuji during the Shibuya arc? Heaven knows he's in need of it. The prompt would be that he's having the meltdown/panic attack after regaining control over his body after Sukuna raised hell on the city(along with all the memories that come with it) and his lover finds him crying on the ground and rushes to comfort him and ground him.

I just want my boy to get a hug goddamn it, Gege won't give him any breaks😭

- Sincerely, '🌈' Anon.

★ - 'm honestly haven't watched the new episode yet (prayin' s'the "I'm you." timeline !!) but, 100% agree! 'm boy needs a break !! (gege is cruel (；′⌒`) )

☆ - Itadori Yuuji x Reader!

♡ - 'm sososososo glad t'see you again 🌈 !! 've lowkey been burnin' out, but 'm glad you're here !! <;33 （〃｀ 3′〃）| listenin' to... Skyfall

Good God— you don't know how you're alive right now.

The stench of curses and blood permeated the air, dried blood from curse users and curses stuck your hair to your face; heavy breaths leaving your lips as you looked around for any familiar faces.

Shibuya is in shambles, nothing more and nothing less. Dead civilians and auxiliary managers litter the streets, and several cars and buildings are smashed and flipped on their sides.

"Fuck," you wheeze, holding onto the scar that stretches to two separate sides of your face.

Your ribs are most definitely bruised or broken— there's no doubt about it. Your ankle is a bit sprained and you can't hear anything from your left ear.

You're really looking for Yuuji, you're lovable, and sometimes (a lot of the time) oblivious boyfriend. It's a bit biased, you know. Though Yuuji is at the top of your priority list, you really just want to find anybody who came to Shibuya with Gojo.

An earth-shattering sound makes its way through your ear(s). You turn around sharply, staring in shock as a few inches away from your foot is completely gone.

There's a presence you've felt ever since you woke up and you more or less guessed it was Sukuna.

If you had moved one step ahead, you would've died by what you assumed was Sukuna's domain.

Sukuna.

Your eyes widen as they stare at the crater formed by the King of Curses' domain. There's no way people aren't dead.

Yuuji.

"Oh fuck, Yuuji?!" Your anxiety goes haywire as you force your body to move. Even though every bone in your body aches in pain, pushed to its limit and beyond during the plethora of curses you've fought, you move.

Your heartbeat accelerates as your breaths get shorter. As fast as you run around the perimeter of the crater, you still haven't found Yuuji. Yuuji and his boyish smile every time you get him a gift, Yuuji, and his airy laugh whenever he sees something that manages to get him just right.

Yuuji and, his adorable love for movies, Yuuji, and his bright demeanor, able to make almost anyone fall under his spell.

Yuuji, who you find scratching at the road with tears falling down his eyes, wailing about how he should be the one to die.

It's right then and there, that your heart breaks.

Forgetting about the pain in your body, you rush over to where Yuuji was a heavy exhale, tears brimming your eyes and throbbing pain coursing through your body.

He turns to look at you with eyes that don't look like your boy, that don't look like Yuuji. He looks as if he's seen a ghost —like he didn't expect someone he knew to still be alive.

"You're alive...?" His voice is hoarse like he's dehydrated. It's missing its usual animated tone, his normal light voice, and his smile — fuck his smile.

"Yuuji," You exhale. "Yuuji, you're alive, fuck— you're alive." You get closer, and your body finally collapses on you. You're able to feel the emotions you forced yourself to push down the minute you stepped into the veil encasing Shibuya.

The hurt when you saw people you hold near to your heart die in front of you, the pain every time you felt your bones cracking, or the feeling of your skin stretching to accommodate the wound that was bound to form a scar stretching across your face.

Yuuji backs away from you, his fingers leaving a bloody trail from where you found him scratching at the road. "No! Get away from me— I'll try and kill you too!"

He'll... try and kill you?

Yuuji hangs his head in his arms as he curls into himself, seemingly trying to make his body as small as normal. "I'm nothing but a murderer! No matter what I do— or what I try to do— I just," He interrupts himself with a hiccup, blood mixed with tears leaking from the bottom of his face.

"I can't help anybody! I killed innocent people, I shouldn't be allowed to live!"

Yuuji continues to cry, his bloody fingers gripping his now dirtied pink hair.

Gently, as to not make him pull away from you, your arms wrap around his body. He refuses, trashing in your hold as he begs for you to let go of him, to distance yourself from him in case Sukuna somehow manages to take control again.

"Yuuji." You say softly, letting your coarse arms run through his hair.

He doesn't respond. Though he isn't struggling to move, he still remains unresponsive. "Yuuji, you aren't a monster."

He shakes his head furiously. "I killed them with my own—"

"Sukuna killed them, not you." You mutter softly. Even though you don't know the whole story, you know Yuuji, your Yuuji, would never kill innocent people.

"Yuuji, you aren't a murderer. You aren't a murderer."

Yuuji sobs into your shoulder, his bloody fingers gripping tightly against your shirt. "I'm sorry— I'm sorry!"

You keep your voice soft, softly running through his hair and rubbing circles on his back as well. "It wasn't your fault, 's okay..."

You reassure him, keep telling him that he wasn't a murderer, that he wouldn't kill innocent people on purpose, and little by little you think he's believing you.

"We, we have to go find everyone else," Yuuji says. His voice is drier if that's possible and his eyes feel so sunken, they don't feel like Yuuji. You don't hold that against him, he just went through a traumatic experience and obviously he isn't going to be the same boy you're used to.

Your shoulder is wet, and Yuuji's blood is staining your back. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Yuuji nods. Though it doesn't feel all the way true, it doesn't feel fake either. You press a tiny peck on his cheek, showing him a smile to let him know that he isn't alone.

As long as you were there with him, he'll never be alone.

"Fushiguro is... is [Name] still alive?" Itadori asks, sitting across from Yuta, divided by their makeshift fireplace.

Fushiguro averts his eyes with a guilty look on his face as he shakes his head.

"Oh."

Itadori Yuuji is alone.

He's lost his best friend, Nobara, his mentor (practically his father), Nanamin, Todo lost his technique because of him, and now, he's lost the one person who he truly felt like he could fall back on.

The one person who saw him at his lowest, and somehow brought him back from that.

"Oh."

He's alone.

And he genuinely doesn't know how he can cope without the help of his lover, his [Name].

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megistusdiary · 3 months

Note

ITS BEEN LIKE A WHILE IVE MISSED YOU ERM...

Anyways!! Belated happy new years 🥳

About your latest post...

Vampire kaeya who sneaks you behind the knights of fav hq late at night after his duties to suck your blood mmm yum he tells you to be quiet as he teases you, sinking his fangs into your neck as his fingers slip into your underwear ahshfueihajsis

I MISSED YOU OMG!!! hi <3 and happy belated new years!

i haven't written for kaeya in forever omg, thank you for bringing me this idea 🙏 i love vampires ong

i think i kinda went off a little bit and made something else. idk yall be the judge of it..

vampire kaeya ˚ૢ⋆˚

dom! vampire kaeya x sub!fem (anatomy/pronouns) reader

warnings: smut (mdni), vampire kaeya, obligatory biting and blood, fingering, semi-public sex (in his office), asphyxiation

kaeya's office is dim, lit only by a few remaining candles and the moonlight filtering in through the beautiful windows.

you reach up on your tiptoes to give him a gentle kiss, only to pull away with a soft yelp at the sharp prick of his fangs.

his hand covers your mouth teasingly, fangs glinting in the light. "hush, i spent all that time sneaking you in."

you remove his hand, seeing residual blood from your lip on his skin. "you're a grown man, mister calvalry captain. i doubt anybody would question you bringing me here." you scoff playfully.

"me? bringing a woman to my office after hours? why, that could only be for one thing..." he grins even when you lightly swat at him.

"hmph, little do they know it's just so you can get your late night snack." you roll your eyes at him.

he shrugs, licking the blood off his finger, his eye fluttering shut. "archons, i'm starving." he groans.

he gently pulls you further into his office, sitting at his desk chair and curling you into his lap. you tug away the fabric covering your neck, and he hums in appreciation. he gently kisses your neck in several spots, lingering at your pulse point to feel your heartbeat thrum against his lips.

once he finds the perfect spot to sink his teeth into, he laves his tongue over the skin, softening it up. his hands gently smooth down your thighs and waist, holding you close as your eyelids flutter shut. he feels you grip his jacket, bracing for the pain, and he smiles into your neck.

"you know, it would be quite rude of me to take from you without giving you something, wouldn't it?" he mumbles lowly into your ear, fingers teasingly slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. he hears your soft little gasp, gripping his jacket tighter.

"kaeya-" you sigh as he gently touches your clit over your panties. his finger slides down the material and he smirks.

"all worked up over the thought of me sinking my teeth into you, huh?" he knew the answer, but he liked seeing you get flustered hearing it out loud.

when he slides your panties to the side, your hips buck up. his thumb rubs sweet circles into your clit, the points of his fangs gently poking into your skin. blood bubbled up beneath the little pricking sensations, followed by his tongue licking the trails up before they could run any further.

his fangs only push in deeper when his fingers finally press into you. your neck is throbbing, but your pussy is squeezing his fingers so tightly. he groans softly into you, using his free hand to cover your mouth.

the combined sounds of him feeding on your neck and finger-fucking your cunt have you reeling with embarrassment and delight. the hand on your mouth trails down to your throat.

he pulls away briefly from your shoulder to teasingly squeeze your throat. his fingers are pushing deeper into you with a frightening accuracy. the tips graze your sweet spot inside of you, only intensifying the sensation when your hips try to wiggle away from it.

"feels good, huh?" he asks and you whine, only to have it cut into a breathy squeak. "already told you, sweetheart. gotta be quiet for me."

"everyone would be right then to assume you've brought me here for one thing, huh." you wheeze out, and he laughs.

his thumb presses harder into your clit and he leans down to kiss you instead, capturing all your pretty noises. blood is left on your lips and face, the taste making you wrinkle your nose and his own lips quirk up in amusement.

the pace of his fingers speeds up as he goes back to feeding on your neck. he can tell the moment you're feeling lightheaded, considering it's the same moment you start to practically suffocate his fingers as your hips begin to stutter on their grinding.

he laps up your blood, soothing your neck as he thoroughly fucks you with his hands until you're completely limp and spent on his lap. your head lolls back on his shoulder, looking up at the blood smudged on his fangs. his tongue passes over them, and he grins down at you wickedly.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya x you #genshin x female reader #fem reader #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚#˗ˏˋ꒰ 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴 ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) ꒱#*ੈ✩‧─𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦

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bumblebeesfromvenus · 4 months

Text

Tradition and Love🌹

Leon S. Kennedy x reader

A/N:The third treat for Fi's Christmas Market ☃️ is here! Leon is a huge softie in this (what's new) and it's so wholesome 🥺 I hope you enjoy this one <3

~Fi 🐝

Warnings: tw: Love. First ever L-word, sharing family traditions with our baby <3

Word count: 3.2k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

Your laugh echoed through the hallway of your apartment complex as you stumbled into your home with a very grumpy Leon by your side. The snow on your boots was coming off, landing on the floor.

Leon's face was red, and he muttered unintelligible things under his breath. "I-... I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean to do that!" You wheezed, doubling over and holding your stomach.

The laughter had coaxed tears to fall from your lashline. He only glared at you, making you break into another fit of giggles. You had taken a walk on this snowy day, and you might've dragged Leon down with you, making snow angels. On your way back, you had slipped your hand from his and balled up some snow and aimed it right at his back.

Well, you're aim was terrible and unfortunately for your boyfriend, he turned around in the worst possible moment with a puzzled expression on his face, looking for the warmth of your hand in his.

Before you could stop yourself, you threw the snowball and it hit him square in the face. Your first reaction was shock, slapping your hands over mouth, which quickly turned into full bellied laughter when you saw the way his shoulders slumped and he let out a defeated sigh before shaking the snow off his face.

"I'm sorry, baby, I didn't think you'd turn around." You fanned away your tears, trying not to break into laughter again. "I didn't think you'd come at me with the snowball of death." He grumbled, rubbing his face, hoping to warm it up.

You did feel guilty, extremely so, but there was just something about the look on his face and the way his cheeks and nose looked so cute when they were all blushed from the cold, that made you want to do it again.

"I'll warm ya up." You smiled, taking his face in your hands and stroking his cheeks while pressing kisses to the tip of his nose and the corner of his mouth.

A hum rumbled through his chest as he stood before you, slightly bending over to compensate for your height difference. "Better?"

"Almost." He smirked, gently moving your hands from his face to his neck and holding onto your waist. He brushed his nose with yours before placing a gentle kiss to your lips. "I'm much better now, thank you, sweetheart." He grinned, slipping his hands from you.

"I'm glad. Wouldn't want my boy to be cold, hm?" The way you said it was like honey, like a sweet dusted in sugar. With the purest intentions and that irresistible smile on your face that Leon swore would make him go into cardiac arrest one day.

He hoped you didn't catch the way he froze for a split second before moving on and acting like your words didn't just set aflame a raging fire in his heart. Leon cracked a smile at the warm feeling in his chest. Finally, after all of it, he knew he was cared for and loved.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Later that day, you were lounging on the couch, Leon's head was resting in your lap as you were gently running your fingers through his blonde locks. This would be your first Christmas together. A holiday you cherished and held so close to your heart, you would now spend with your lover. Although, love was really an understatement of what you were feeling for Leon. It went so much deeper than words could describe, rooting its way deep into every crevice of your heart.

"Lee, I thought since this is our first Christmas together, we could share some of our family traditions and do them together? If you want to, of course." You smiled down at him softly, caressing his face when he turned his head to look at you.

"I, uh, I don't really have any." He said with a half-hearted smile. You could see that this affected him deeply. The way he tensed in your hold or how he avoided meeting your gaze. A small frown settled on your lips.

"Well, I'd love to share some of mine with you. And we can always make our own, right?"

He chuckled softly, turning fully on his back. "I guess we can. What are some of these traditions?" He asked softly, taking on of your hands from his hair and gently holding it. He did that quite often, but it never managed to stop butterflies from erupting in the pit of your stomach.

"One of them," you began, still stroking his hair, "is throwing a pomegranate on the ground so it breaks. It's good luck for the new year. It's a pretty simple one, but I'd love to do it with you."

"This is not a trick to trap me in the Underworld with you, is it?" He questioned suspiciously. You let out a laugh, throwing your head back.

"No, silly. I wouldn't need to trick you. You'd come with me willingly." You teased.

"Damn right I would. Can't leave my girl alone in a world full of dead people, can I?"

"My gallant hero." You giggled, making a proud smirk appear on Leon's face.

"Downside, it needs to be on Christmas eve for the luck to work, so you're gonna have to wait a little." You looked down at him with a somewhat sorry expression, telling him about these traditions and then making him wait.

"But, I have another one that we could do today!" You announced with a grin and you swear you saw his eyes light up. Even just a little.

"I'm all ears, sweetheart."

"We always called it a 'Light walk'. As the name suggests, we take a walk around the neighborhoods at night and look at all the lights and decorations that people have set up. It's gonna be even better because it snowed. What do you think?" You pressed a kiss to his knuckles.

"I think,"he started, getting up from his place in your lap and settling down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "that sounds perfect." He ended it with a whisper close to your ear before kissing your cheek. With a wide smile, you cuddled closer to his side.

"Just don't throw a snowball in my face again, alright?"

"I'll think about it." You grinned.

"Minx."

"You love me."

He hummed in response, letting himself fall on top of you. Leon buried his face in your chest. You were tied down. There was no way you would move now. Not that you wanted to.

"And you love me. Which is why you're gonna let me take a nap on my favorite pillow." He mumbled, eyes falling shut. You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"I'll wake you when the lights are on." You whispered lovingly, tracing patters on his back. The two of you sunk into the softness of the couch, enveloped by the warm blanket that was your love.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The sun had set, and you were out and about with Leon. Hand in hand you were walking down the snowy lanes of your neighborhood, illuminated by the plethora of Christmas lights your holiday enthusiastic neighbors had put up. You could see the faintest hint of stars speckled on the indigo night sky, accompanied by the glow of the moon.

"You look beautiful in the moonlight." Leon broke you out of your silence, his voice was soft, and the underlying tone of adoration was hard to miss. "Thank you, baby. So do you." You smiled sweetly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

To say Leon was caught off guard would've been an understatement. He'd never been called beautiful before. He didn't know what to feel. Flattered, shy, embarrassed?

"I- um.. Thank.. you?" He stuttered, his cheeks red. He quickly looked away and cleared his throat.

"No need to be shy. You are pretty. The prettiest, actually."

"Baby-"

"The prettiest of the prettiest." You giggled, seeing him swallow. You couldn't get enough of him like this, the stoic and cold Leon Kennedy was blushing because you called him pretty.

"I think that title goes to you." He smirked. Seemed like he got a hold of his cockiness again. Now, it was your turn to be all flustered.

"Hey, why are you turning this on me-"

"The prettiest girl I've ever seen." He said lowly, his hands stopping you from walking any further as they firmly grabbed your waist. Your eyes widened before a small pout settled on your lips.

"Shut up and watch the lights!" You huffed, still very obviously flustered. Leon laughed before taking a hold of your hand again and continuing your way around the neighborhood.

Some houses had a string of lights or two running along them, others were completely decked in bright, blinking lights and obnoxious inflatable Santas and snowmen. Doors and windows were adorned by green garlands with red ornaments as well as delicate golden decorations.

One of the first houses you'd passed was decorated in every color, cheesy and somewhat tacky decor littered the front yard and the house. A long cable ran across the yard, powering a projector, which made little snowflakes happily dance over the side of the house. "Jesus, those lights are burning holes into my retinas." You complained, holding a hand in front of your eyes to soothe the sting the blue light inflicted on you.

"I think the Santa in swim trunks and a cocktail makes up for it, though." Leon grinned, gesturing to the inflatable Santa that was slightly swaying in the breeze, a pair of sunglasses on his face and a very classic cocktail in a coconut shell in his hand.

"That's not any good if I'm blind, Leon!"

The next house was quite the opposite of the obnoxiously, retina-burning decorated place you'd seen just moments ago. It was so elegantly lit up, very subtle stars and reindeer sculptures were placed in a scene in front of the house. It was eye catching, to the say the least. The homeowner had very obviously put a lot of effort into carefully arranging their decorations. The soft light emitted from the lights cast a golden shimmer on the blanket of snow covering the grass.

There was a big tree as well, dusted in white flakes. A delicate string of lights was wrapped around it, with a beautiful star at the top. A very classic and chic approach to Christmas decorations.

"I like this one. Reminds me of how you decorate." Leon said quietly before cracking a small smile and glancing over the sweet reindeer sculptures. The golden glow looked like a sparkling treasure in his blue eyes. A sea of emotions that was yours to discover. "M'glad you like how I decorate." You smiled softly, admiring his side profile while your arm was hooked into his.

"I like everything you do." Leon had the gentlest look on his face. His brows were pulled together in admiration. He did like how you decorated. It was so you. Regardless, you'd asked for his opinion and thought, which now made it uniquely us as Leon had called it, making your heart skip a beat. Us really had a nice ring to it.

"Look," he pointed to a doe and buck standing next to eachother, "It's us." He chuckled. The two light figures were placed under the shelter of the tree, intwined in an affectionate manner.

"Aw, Leon!" Tiny tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

"That's the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me." You whispered, the smile on your face evident in your voice.

"I can say something even lovelier, you know." Leon spoke softly, his arms holding you against him. "Hm, what?" You asked curiously, hiding your face in his warm chest to hide from the cold. He gently tilted your head up to look at him. Leon was holding you so softly, like you were a delicate glass ornament.

"I love you."

Holy shit. Your eyes widened and your mouth slightly fell agape as you processed what he had said. You hadn't said the dreaded L-word yet. Not in a million years had you expected him to say it first. You could feel your heart swell as if it would jump from your ribcage any second and let itself be cradled in Leon's loving embrace.

You snapped out of your lovestruck trance when you saw him getting antsy. His brows were slightly scrunched together, the corners of his mouth dropped slightly, and he began stroking his thumb over your jaw to distract himself. He was scared shitless.

You weren't saying or doing anything. Was he moving too fast? But he couldn't hold it in anymore, no matter how hard he tried. He had never said this to anyone. Never been this vulnerable around anyone but you. His chest was constricting with anxiety. Leon's thoughts were running amok, conjuring all kinds of different scenarios. Like, what if-

"I love you too."

The heavy Boulder that lay on his chest was shattered by the softness of your voice. He could see the sheen of tears in your eyes and how your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as to not break into a fit of excitement.

Leon let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Without another word, he pulled you flush against his chest and laid his head in the crook of your neck, smiling against your skin.

"I love you. Let's go home." He whispered, pressing a kiss just below your ear.

The snow accompanied the two of you as you walked back to your warm home. Leon pampered you with kisses and sweet murmurs through the rest of the evening, and you held him as he fell asleep, telling him just how much you truly loved him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"Sweetheart, I know this is important to you, but you're holding up the aisle and it's in the middle of the Christmas rush-"

"I almost got it, I swear! I just need to find the perfect one." You mumbled, standing in the produce aisle. Your field of vision was entirely red as you scanned through the piles of pomegranates. It was the 23rd, and you still needed the fruit for tomorrow evening. You had done the remaining holiday shopping days before, but the pomegranate needed to be fresh.

And here you were, biting at the inside of your cheek while being bumped by stressed parents and shopping carts as you tried to pick out the perfect fruit. It needed to be perfect.

"Honey-"

"I almost got it!" You said nervously, glacing over to see the pushing look of your boyfriend and the displeased faces of many holiday-stressed people.

"C'mon, where are you.." you muttered to yourself, eyes flitting over the shiny heaps of fruit. Your gaze landed on a slightly lumpy pomegranate, it looked vaguely like a heart. That's the one, you thought.

This was your perfect. It wasn't about looking for the roundest, most symmetrical or shiny one. It was about the one that spoke to you. It was unique, you liked it. Your hand quickly darted forward and grabbed it before slithering through the crowds of people to get back to Leon.

"Got it!" You announced proudly, showing off the pomegranate to Leon.

"Good. It's perfect." He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. He gently guided you through the store with a hand gently placed on your lower back.

"That grandma behind you was about to jump at your throat." He chuckled.

"She's just jealous I got the best pomegranate."

"I'm sure that's it, Babe."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Leon almost stumbled down the stairs of your apartment building, that's how eagerly your were dragging him with you. You were all cuddled up for the cold, in one hand you held the fruit you had acquired yesterday, and in the other you tightly held his.

"Slow down, Baby." He said, trying not to trip and fall into you.

"It's so exciting, hurry!"

He had to admit, although there was the hazard of falling down the stairs and spending Christmas in the hospital, your unbridled excitement made him smile. He sometimes doubted whether you liked, not loved, him.

He knew you loved him with all that you were, but did you like him as a person? He felt ashamed of those thoughts, he didn't want to doubt you. You were his everything, his world, his light. But the way you were so excited to do this with him made the doubt fizzle away. All you'd do was throw a fruit on the ground, yet you acted like it would be the event of the century.

It made his heart beat stronger, he felt giddy, like a teenager. He never had the chance to have a classic high-school sweethearts romance, but you made your relationship feel exactly like that, and he loved you that much more for it.

The cold hit his face when you stormed out the front door with him in tow. You picked a nice spot, not too secluded but also not too in the way as to not make as big of a mess.

"Alright. Okay. Are you ready?" You asked him, holding out the pomegranate. The puzzled look on his face prompted you to explain further.

"I want you to do it."

"But it's your tradition."

"The person who breaks it gets a little extra luck. I want you to have it." You smiled softly, pressing the fruit into his palm.

He would address the chaos of emotions inside of him later, for he feared if he did now he wouldn't be able to hold back. He was caught off guard. You wanted him to have the extra luck.

You could've kept that to yourself, hell, even if you had told him before he still would've encouraged you to be the one to break it. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to ignore the sting of tears in his eyes. "Are- Are you sure?"

You nodded encouragingly, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze. You pulled your hands away, giving him room to throw the pomegranate, but he gentle grabbed your hand and placed it on the other side of the fruit.

"Together?" He had a hopeful smile on his face.

"Together."

With both of you having a hold of the pomegranate, you threw it on the ground. It hit the concrete and cracked into two halves, some of the seeds spilling out on the ground.

Leon took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you both watched the lights reflect in the crimson flesh of the fruit. The little seeds shimmered like rubies.

"You think we'll have double extra luck now?" Leon smirked. You giggled, squeezing his hand.

"I don't know. I guess we'll have to see just how lucky we get, hm?"

"I couldn't get any luckier." He said softly, pulling you into him and pressing a passionate kiss on your soft lips. They fit perfectly against his, moving in sync. Your arms wrapped around him as he slightly dipped you, making you gasp. He swallowed the sound and could feel you smiling against his lips.

"I love you, Leon."

"I love you ,too, Baby."

The glittery snowflakes cascaded upon the two of you, painting a perfect scene. Your hearts were full, so were your arms. Of eachother, the one you held so dear. The moon and stars shone down on you, sealing your love.

You were filled with warmth and joy, but most importantly, with Tradition and Love.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

I hope you like it, @vampkennedy <3

#bumblebeesfromvenus #FI'S CHRISTMAS MARKET ☆#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy fluff

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sunraies · 1 year

Note

OH I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM I REALLY READ THEM EVERY DAY ITS A ROUTINE TO ME

my request is kook!reader who gets along with Camerons very well. tutores to Wheez, gives her old study notes to Sarah, chit chats with Rose etc. and Rafe is adoring her. but they have some problems lately like Rafe's friends behaviours or Rafe's addiction or something about her idk really. and all these little problems becomes a big one and they finally have a fight. BIG. at Camerons. Wheez worrying, Rose is confused and Sarah is like 'finally, Rafe dont deserve you.' idk end however you want.

actually to me FULL ANGST. but however you want to end it honey. whether fluff or angst i am sure id love it. love you.

Oh my god! You are gotta make me cry 😭😭😭🥰. I love you too x

I hope this does your request justice. I tried to make it angst filled, but I'm such a fluff girl!

Goodbye

Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

Warnings - Angst. Some fluff. Drug, alcohol and addict behaviour.

Your lifelong friendship with Rafe started to break slowly, but when he learns that you are leaving, it hits breaking point.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-**-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You spent as much time at the Cameron's as you did your own home, if not more. Your family lived next door, having moved there when you were young. Being neighbours meant growing up closely together and having Rafe Cameron as a best friend was a rollercoaster.

From the moment you first met Rafe, he adored you. The little blue-eyed boy with a wicked smile didn't know what hit him, literally. One minute, he was pulling your hair, and the next, you were punching him in the stomach. When questioned what happened, neither ratted the other out. It was you and Rafe against the world.

As you grew, you were always there for each other. He was there for you when Hank Harrison broke your heart and you were there for him when his mother left, leaving behind a broken Rafe, a small Sarah and baby Wheezie.

Your lives were tangled and waver together so tightly that you never thought it would break.

It started to fray after senior year. With the pressure of the future, you noticed a change in Rafe.

He had always loved partying hard, the girls and the booze, but no matter how far he took it, it never affected his daily life or how he treated you. You were his VIP guest to every party. It wasn't until he met Barry and a friend in the form of white powder that you had your first small fight.

You had been dancing with Sarah most of the night, having a good time until you became tired. You found Rafe surrounded by people, some you knew like Topper and Kelce but others you didn't. He was trying to convince Topper to take his first bump.

"Rafe," you called over the pounding music. He frowned before giving you a lopsided smile and pulling you into his lap, earning a few glares from the girls sitting around him.

"There's my girl." He grinned and wrapped you in his arms. "I missed you,"

With you, he didn't care if people saw him soft. You were his sweet other half. You brought out the softer side in him. He never admitted it to you, but he was sure he had loved you since the age of 5.

"I have been here all night," you said softly, seeing his pupils blown so wide, broke your heart a little. "I was coming to say goodbye,"

"Goodbye?" He frowned as you ran your hand through his hair, making him sigh. "The party's just started,"

"It's 3am."

"Stay, have some of the good stuff." He offered you a sip of his beer before grabbing a rolled up bill for you.

"Rafe, I don't want that,"

He groaned and loosened his grip on you, rolling his eyes and throwing his head back "Don't be so fucking boring"

"Good night, Rafe," you whispered, moving out of his lap and heading for the door. You heard him calling after you, but you didn't go back.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

The next slightly bigger argument you had was when you and Wheezie found him, drunk and high in the kitchen. You had been over to help Wheeze with her French homework. Being completely flunt, you were the best person to help.

You had gone to the kitchen for snacks, finding Rafe stumbling, slamming cabinet doors as he muttered away to himself. Something about hidden money, that his dad must have a stash hidden in the kitchen.

Ward had stashes in every room of the house, and you were sure of it but never thought of looking into the theory.

"Rafe?" Wheezie asked softly. He span around to her and sighed.

"Have you seen any of the money, dad hides?" He asked but Wheeze shook her head "Fuck"

"Why do you need it?"

"Cause, I fucked up Wheeze" He groaned "I fucked up big time!" He took a swig of the open whiskey bottle from the counter top before offering her some.

"Did you really just offer me, booze?" Wheezie frowned. "I'm 13"

"Shit, god. I'm sorry, Wheeze." He covered his eyes with his hands and groaned again. "I'm so fucked, but I'm gonna fix it"

"Go upstairs, Wheeze. I'll be up in a minute. " You fixed one of her braids, and you watched as she hurried up the stairs before turning back to Rafe.

"What you do this time?" You asked, arms folded as he looked over at you. It was like he had just noticed you were there.

"Why does it have to be something I did?" He asked, frowning as he took a drink again

"Is it Barry again?"

He laughed "No it's not fucking Barry. Just get off my case"

"Rafe, you just told your 13 year old sister, that you need money and offered her whiskey" You pointed out "Now tell me what the fuck the problem is"

He looked you up and down. "My sister. Exactly. It's a family problem. Don't worry yourself over something that isn't your business"

You tried not to take it to heart. He was hiding the fact that he was in trouble by cutting you out. It wasn't the first time he'd been in debt to Barry, but it was the first time he didn't admit it to you.

"Rafe" Wheezie whispered from the door way. She had a small bundle of dollar bills in her hand "Will this help? It's all I've got for now"

She received a small allowance from Ward, something all the Cameron kids had. Being the youngest, she didn't get as much, but she saved it all, claiming she wanted to buy her own first car.

"Shit," Rafe muttered as he suddenly broke down in front of you both.

You hurried over to him and cradled his head to your chest as he sobbed. Poor Wheezie stood helpless as she watched her big brother crumble in your arms.

Later, you found out that all the money Rafe paid Barry back had been stolen by Sarah. You hoped that day would be a wake-up call to make him stop, but it only got worse.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

You hadn't seen Rafe for a few weeks when you sat in the Cameron's kitchen, munching grapes as you sat on the kitchen island, speaking to Rose as she made a pot of coffee.

"I'm so proud of you." She smiled. "I can't believe our girl is going to Paris!"

You smiled back. You had come round to pick up Sarah for a shopping spree and told Rose the news that you had been accepted to a collage in Paris.

"I can't believe it either." You popped a grape in your mouth. "I honestly didn't think I would get in."

"Of course you would. I mean, look at you. They would have been stupid, not too. "

"Not to, what?" Rafe stumbled into the kitchen, his hair messy from sleep as he wore only sweatpants, he smelt strongly of the night before and had a light sweat on his brow, clearing in the middle of a come down.

"Not accept her to their collage." Rose smiled as the kettle boiled.

Rafe nodded and grunted as he grabbed a cup before he paused. "Collage? What fucking collage?"

You had told him a million times that your dream was to go to Paris. Collage was the perfect way to have the chance to live there.

"Paris," Rose answered, slightly oblivious to the tension building in the room. You flinched as Rafe dropped his cup down, harder than needed on the side.

"Paris?"

"Yes, Rafe. Paris, " You muttered. It was meant to be the most exciting news to share with him, but with the way things had been, you hadn't got the chance.

He stared at you as you stared back. He was waiting for the punch line. It had to be a joke. You were leaving him.

"Rose? Have you seen my white Converse?" Wheezie asked as she entered the kitchen before looking between you and Rafe.

"No, honey. Maybe in the sunroom?" Rose suggested before going to look with her.

"Fucking Paris?" Rafe frowned

"Yes, Rafe fucking Paris" You said back, in a even tone.

"So you were just going to up and leave me?"

"No, I told you about this before. Not that I'd been accepted, but I've been wanting to go all year"

Soon, you were yelling at each other so loudly everyone in the house could hear.

"Just fuck off to Paris, then!" He yelled "I don't fucking need you anymore! Always dragging me down!"

"Oh, I'm planning too!" You snapped back. "Sorry to have been such a downer. I'll be gone in no time!"

"Good! I'll be fucking free!"

"So free! Have fun fucking the girl you have up stairs!"

"Wow. Jealous?!"

"Nothing to be jealous of," you said calmly. You never insulted him back before. Normally ending the arguments quickly but this time you were done "Just a drunk, drugged up dickhead"

He stared at you, "Fuck off" He muttered

"That's the plan." You didn't want to leave him behind, but you needed to go after your own future.

"Ready to go?" Sarah asked, looking between you. The looks you were throwing it each were deadly.

"Yeah. I'm done here." You pushed yourself off the island and left Rafe to watch you go, smashing the cup against the countertop after you left.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

You checked your passport, ticket, and flight number three times as you stood with your family and the Camerons, minus Rafe. Everyone hugged you goodbye. You subconsciously glanced around as you had the heavy feeling of something missing.

"You don't need him here," Sarah said softly as she pulled back from a long hug. "I'm sorry, I know you want him here. But you don't need him."

You nodded, knowing she was right. You didn't need the Rafe you'd seen recently, but part of you wished you had your Rafe there.

The one who gave your first kiss when you were worried you would never get one. The one who snuck into your room with your favourite ice cream after punching Hank Harrison and spent hours holding you. The one who checked in on you at parties. The one who took you to prom, claiming he was the only date worthy of you. You knew he'd threatened anyone who tried asking you, but at the time, you didn't care. You had your Rafe.

After a long goodbye and a final call for your flight, you made your way to the gate when you heard him calling your name over the sound of the music in your earphones.

You frowned, turning around slowly as Rafe Cameron ran towards you. He was completely out of breath when he made it to you, but he looked different.

His eyes were clearer, those gorgeous ocean blue again. He smelt of his cologne and not of the night before.

"Don't you dare tell me not to go." As a part of you was happy to see him, another was worried.

He shook his head and gently grabbed your arms. "No, no. I would never"

You raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm going to miss my flight."

"I'll make it quick. I promise." He moved his hands to your cheeks when you didn't move away from his touch.

"What is it?"

"I couldn't let you go without saying goodbye," He whispered before slowly moving closer to you. "I'm so sorry, baby."

You sighed softly and nodded. Your heart rapidly beating in your chest.

"I have to go," you whispered, but you made no move to leave as they announced your flight again.

"I know, I know." He breathed as his lips made contact with yours.

You whimpered against him, unable to control it before deepening the kiss. The airline announcing they were on last check-in broke you apart.

"I love you," He whispered against your lips

"I know, I know." You breathed, pulled back. "I love you too."

"Go on, baby." He smiled, nodding towards your gate as the last few people walked through the doors.

You gave him a quick kiss again before hurrying away. Leaving him to watch you go with a smile on his face.

Just as you were setting your phone to airplane mode, you received a message:

'I'm getting clean. I mean it this time. I love you, I'm sorry I didn't say it before. I promise you, baby. I'll see you in week' Rafe sent a picture of a plane ticket he just purchased.

#rafe cameron #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks #outerbanks fic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron angst #rafe request

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wishluc · 11 months

Note

I love yandre himeko thou what about kafka thou??😍😍

Literally insane about her it's crazy

A Stellaron Hunter has no business in the Space Station, as far as you're aware.

But it's not like you can go anywhere with Kafka's gun under your chin, her pink eyes looking up at you with unabashed interest. The contrasting sensations of cold metal and her burning gaze sends your heart faltering, your mind spinning as you try to come up with a way to escape the situation.

"Now, my dear," Kafka's smooth voice sends shivers down your spine, and she grins, clearly having noticed the effect she has on you and taking great delight in it, "no need to be so rash. Didn't I tell you to stay put?"

You gulp, watching closely as her eyes narrow, "Uhm, Miss…" Your tongue falters mid-sentence, terror tightening its grip on you as Kafka pushes her weapon into your skin, as though to serve as a reminder, "I don't have access to—"

"Shh," she whispers, slowly withdrawing her gun. Just when you thought you could finally relax your tense figure, she swiftly grabs you by the waist and spins you around, slamming your face up against the wall, wrists held behind your back. Your gasp echoes through the room, but Kafka merely chuckles, "My apologies. I need to take certain precautions, as I'm sure you'll understand. Though if we're being honest, I don't mind your fight. It's what I like about you, your resolve, your determination…you're a clever little thing, aren't you?"

"And please, call me Kafka. We have more than enough time to get acquainted with each other, don't we?"

You only manage to wheeze out a few words before Kafka shushes you again, "I don't have—"

"That's perfectly alright," Her voice is still light, her tone airy, like your current predicament was just a normal occurrence for her, "I don't need any of that."

Then, with a steady hand pushing against the small of your back with unexpected force, you feel her other hand dig into your pocket. Your shuffling and twisting do nothing to slow her exploration, as she finally pulls out your ID card (although you couldn't see her, you could swear that she had a triumphant smile on her face).

"[Name]…a researcher, I see? How interesting. How long have you been working here, darling?"

"3 years now," you focus on your trembling fingers, ignoring the way they grazed Kafka's skin whenever you tried to stretch them out.

"Are you interested a change in careers, by any chance? I have a wonderful opportunity for you. Though…" she trails off, as if internally contemplating something, "I wouldn't want any of my companions getting too close to you either…"

You're not sure if her question warrants an answer, especially considering the clear fact that a researcher like you has no place among the criminals of the Stellaron Hunters.

"Or not," she chuckles, "maybe," she brings her lips right to your ear, and you go absolutely still, too afraid to even breathe, and then she lowers her voice, "you'd like to be my pet instead?"

You don't even have the time to process her words before she's laughing to herself, a soft, lovely sound that worms its way into your soul, "just kidding, of course."

You're not sure what to make of this woman, except for the fact that she was probably half-mad. And you were going to be stuck with her longer if nobody came in to help, and who knew what she'd do to you then?

"How about this?" Kafka's grip on your wrists loosens, and she instead goes to hold your shaking fingers, gently squeezing them in her hands, "I have work to do here, unfortunately, so we'll have to part ways. But I promise you that I'll find a way to come see you again, so then…You'll come to greet me, won't you?"

You nod, wordlessly, and she finally steps away, allowing you to turn around and come face-to-face with her. She's smiling, just as dangerous and as beautiful as when you first saw her, her eyes glimmering with something you can only identify as amusement, and she holds, in between gloved fingers, your ID card.

"Good," she looks you over one last time, pocketing the card, "I won't forget, darling. So you keep your end of the deal too, alright?"

You nod again, not trusting yourself to speak, and she begins to walk away, stopping at the door. Her head turns ever so slightly, her piercing gaze directed right at you as she utters her parting words, "I'll see you soon."

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

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lillithhearts · 2 months

Note

hope I'm not a bother but i saw that you wanted someone to sent Lucifer requests so— i'm only giving ideas, don't force yourself to write this if u don't like this idea:3

angst headcanons/one shot (whatever u prefer) with lucifer x fallen angel male! reader (yes, we need more Male readers) who gets hurt by Adam at the fight in the extermination and maybe Lucifer is too late to save him?

Lucifer x Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

I MEANT NICE THINGS😭 but I shall oblige because I love this idea!!

Not Proofread!

Warnings: Injured reader, character death

Song listened to while writing this

↓

You always stood up for what you believed was right, that's how you ended up here; in hell

Defying the rules and boundaries set by heaven and its authority is a crime punishable by Banishment. Forcefully removed from your loved ones, the deafing fall; the change in scenery and people.

The hell that was created for people deemed not worthy for the pearly gates; the place you laid when you first fell; helped up to stand was the very king of Hell himself, Lucifer. Why was he there, why'd he come to help you? You never questioned him about it, maybe because you, too were once an angel; thrown to the wolves by the people who were meant to protect you, perhaps Lucifer related to you or pitied you.

You didn't complain when he took you to his palace; safe from the horrids of "Hell", over the years you grew together and fell into something different, a love story. From that day you swore you'd do anything to protect him and his dreams just as he had protected you.

That's how you got here. Defending your husbands daughters hotel with everything in your might. You grew close with Charlie and decided to assist her; knowing you'd be protecting Your dear husband's precious only daughter; that's why the screams of your name rang in your ears now. Something in your body hurt that's for sure but you can't quite place where, you remember seeing Adam; trying to protect Charlie from the Commander. His Axe and wrath was standing in front of you; the place you currently laid was familiar; the hotel lobby. Now wrecked and crumbled from the terror, you tried to look around. Your wings weren't functioning anymore as you tried to sit up; quickly a loud Yelp pushed past your lips as you finally felt what was hurting you

The angelic spear that had seemingly staked you on the way down. You watched as Adams gaze shifted to Charlie after taking a moment to sneer at you, your blood boiled both at the man and the fact you couldn't do anything to help. The fight between Lucifer and Adam was a blur to you, All you'd remember was that beam of light barely missing you while splitting the hotel you loved in half.

Now you were shaken awake by a face you know all too well, a smile grazed your features as you looked at the man you loved

"Dove! Sweetheart, hey— hey look at me, I'm here okay? We'll get you help"

You weakly wheezed as you heard the panic and fear in his voice that he tried to hide from you, you held onto his arm, weakly placing your hand on his forearm

"yeah Luci, I don't think I'm making this"

the sting in your heart was more painful than any weapon could do as you watched his face change into a feeling of despair. His still demonic eyes are filled with tears as he clutches onto your body; weeps heard from the man as he held you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear to ease the pain you had endured. a shaking hand stroking your messy bloodied hair, the man's heart wretched as he felt you limp in his arms; body growing cold as your chest went down for the last time. He had just found you, and already lost you.

Authors note : IM LIKE.. KINDA BAD AT WRITING ANGST?? I HOPE THIS WAS OKAYY

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #hazbin x reader #adam hazbin hotel

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olichat-reads · 1 year

Text

Mrow | Part Five (finale)

Bakugou x roomate!reader

Summary: back human?? fucking finally??

A/n: WE'RE HERE. THIS IS LAST CHAPTER I PROMISE OH MY GOD. i'm NEVER writing quirks again is what i wanna say because GODDAMN if figuring this shit out wasn't ridiculously hard. i feel more nervous posting this last chapter than all the others combined. hopefully the ending lives up to all the love you guys have given!

🌟

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath-

In..

And out...

-before reopening them.

Yeah, no. Still naked as the day you were born.

"CLOTHES," you screeched in a panic. Scrambling frantically, you grabbed the first thing you could in your proximity, holding onto the tattered cloth to your naked body for dear life, desperate to maintain some semblance of modesty. "BAKUGOU HELP HELP HELP-"

"WHAT THE FUC-" You didn't even have to see him to know he was gaping at you in shock. At the corner of your eye, you caught the villains charging up their attacks, taking aim while both your heads were spinning from the situation at head.

"BAKUGOU HOWITZER IMPACT-POWER SHIELD COMBO!" You yelled, one hand still holding up the too small cloth like a lifeline over your naked self, you steadied your other hand, timing your quirk with Bakugou's.

Bakugou didn't hesitate, having paired up with you enough to go through the motions of your combo moves like its instinct.

One blast from your roomate sent the villains flying back from its impact. The kickback had the air around you whipping, making you squeak as the wind tried to rip the cloth from your death grip while you activated your quirk, creating a power shield to buy you some time to-

"Sunshine?!??" Wow he wasn't even going to pretend to yell at you for telling him what to do. He must really be distracted.

You barely chanced a glance at Bakugou, doing your best to concentrate on keeping your forcefield up. You caught your roomate all but whip his head around to stare at you, eyes almost bugging out of his head as though he couldn't believe the sight before him.

"BAKUGOU MY BIDDIES ARE ACTUALLY OUT RIGHT NOW. WE CAN TALK LA-"

"WH- HAH???? SUNSHINE?????" He all but wheezed out. You wanted to to tell him to save his breath with all the panting he was putting his lungs through but both of you had other priorities.

"BAKUGOU PLEASE," you cried out exasperately. "CLOTHES FIRST. THEN YOU CAN INTERGORATE ME AS IF I ATE THE LAST PUDDING IN THE FRIDGE-"

A beat of silence.

"BITCH I KNEW IT WAS YOU!" The blonde yelled back, recovering quickly, huffing in exertion while he scrambled to get something to cover you up while you kept up your forcefield.

"BOY I'M THE ONLY OTHER PERSON WHO LIVES WITH YOU OF COURSE IT WAS ME-"

"I BLASTED SPARKY OF OFF THE ROOF FOR THAT!" He screeched back, chucking the soft material into your face with enough force to make you stumble a bit, your power shield wavering slightly.

"YOU DID WHAT."

"YOU TOLD ME HE TOOK MY FUCKING PUDDING!!"

"I DID NO SUCH THING. I JUST VERY STRONGLY IMPLIED THAT IT MIGHT BE SOMEONE ELSE BESIDES ME-"

"BITCH IT WAS SO CLEARLY YOU THOUGH-"

"OBVIOUSLY, YOU DUMBASS. I DIDN'T THINK I WAS SO CONVINCING YOU'D THROW DENKI OF OFF A FUCKING ROOF-"

"DON'T DUMBASS ME, DUMBASS!"

You almost deactivated your quirk in favour of a facepalm. You return to human after two weeks of being a cat & the first thing you do is get into a screaming match with your roomate about fucking pudding of all things.

"Okay, SHUT. Take over & cover me for 10 seconds while I get decent & I'll charge you up."

"You get 8 & you're buying me pudding," he bargained with a smirk. The audacity of this man.

"Are you serio- you know what. Fine. Fine!"

With that you leaped out of the way, letting Bakugou cover you. Quickly tugging over the baggy shirt & sweatpants abandoning the tattered cloth.

"Oh my god. Did you actually manage to find your own merch for me to wear right now?" You couldn't help but snort as you held up an oversized black shirt with Ground Zero's signature orange X on the front.

"Fuck off. They were the closest things I could get my hands on. Call it coincidence."

"Doubt."

"Sunshine."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you rushed over to position yourself behind the burly hero.

"Alright, alright. One power up coming up," you gave him the heads up. You brpught up your hands to rest on Bakugou's shoulder blades, ignoring the toned muscle beneath your palms as you focused on directing energy to his arms.

"Thats more like it," Bakugou smirked, feeling the heat return to his palms.

"Alright, Lord Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Better live up to that ridiculously convoluted name of yours."

"Its Ground Zero now & you know it, gaslighting brat."

"Aw but I liked the tongue twister better, you menace to society." Rolling your eyes as you thought back to all the times he used to insist everyone get that absurd hero name right. The entire thing. No shortcuts.

You caught the smirk your partner threw you, paired with that classic murderous glint in his ruby red eyes when he was about to go berserk. Wew, you almost felt bad for the villains who were going to face his wrath as you watched his grin turn predatory.

Then you remembered they had no qualms in hurting furbabies to get their way.

Yeah, no.

"Fuck them up, roomie," you smirked at the thought of serving these villains what they deserve, smiling at the huff of a deadly laugh the explosion hero breathed out.

"Lets give them hell, Sunshine."

🌟

"That will be 6.99," the cashier said robotically, his eyes wide & owlish. You didn't blame him though- you & Bakugou were quite the sight. The two of you were intensely ragged & disheveled from your little villain encounter, though fortunately, neither of you were severely injured- just a couple of light cuts & bruises that would be a bitch to wake up to tomorrow morning.

"Take your fucking pudding," you all but growl at the blonde smirking over your shoulder. Bakugou swiped his pudding of off the counter gleefully, one large hand going to ruffle your head. You pretend to threaten him with a bite, snapping your teeth at the offending hand, making him laugh at your expense.

"Thanks, Sunny."

"Its Sunshine to you," you huffed, stepping out of the store, Bakugou close to your side.

"You've been Sunny for the past 2 weeks. I think its too late for that at this point."

Stopping in your tracks abruptly, you turned to face the blonde, your narrowed eyes meeting amused red ones to pout up at him.

Smug bastard.

Rolling your eyes, you stepped into his personal space, making his shit-eating grin falter slightly, confusion falling over his face. That got a satisfied huff out of you, masking your nerves before you launched forward pouncing onto your roomate & wrapping your arms around his waist. The contact made Bakugou freeze, his entire body tensing up in your hold.

"..whats this for?"

Fuck. Your face felt hot. You didn't let yourself back away though. Instead, you hid yourself away into his chest.

"Nah. I kinda promised myself I'd hug you as thanks when I'm back human. For, well, looking out for me & shit," you mumbled into what was left of his hoodie, nuzzling into the soft fabric. You continued when Bakugou didn't say anything.

"Its weird. I didn't even go anywhere, but I missed you. I guess."

It took a moment, but you soon felt hesitant hands come around your body to return your hug, the reciprocation making you melt into Bakugou's careful hold as he rested his chin on your head.

"I should've known," he started lowly, making your brows furrow at the tone of his voice- something you could only describe as regret. "Even if you looked different, you were still you. From the way you sass me to the way you hiss at me in the mornings. Even- even the way you pretend to bite me after I mess with your head. It was all you. And. I should've seen it," he swallowed.

You pulled back to look at those downcasted red eyes you've grown to love so much, especially after having the oppurtinity to stare into them as much as you wanted with your excuse of being a cat. Slipping your hands into his, you squeezed lightly to make him meet your gaze.

"Bakugou. I was a cat."

"Yeah, but-"

You rolled your eyes fondly at this dumb blonde, not bothering to listen how he should've known, how he didn't do enough.

Instead, you clasped a hand over his mouth to shut him up before he could get even more agitated with himself, leaning forward to lightly press your lips to your own hand, right where his lips would've been without you covering it, letting your eyes flutter shut. Just for a moment.

Pulling away, you looked up at your roomate with a fond smile, not even caring that you had hearts in your eyes from how much adoration you had for him.

God, you were down bad for this man.

You watched Bakugou blinked at you blankly, seemingly frozen in shock as you pulled your hand away from his face, leaving his mouth gaping in surprise.

Heh. You smirked, satisfied at your roomate's flushed face & reddened ears-

Your roomate that your brain has helpfully supplied as so fucking hot the moment you laid eyes on him all those years back in UA.

Your roomate that you had to pretend you weren't completely fangirling over when you two moved in together & eventually started working together on missions, preening at every subtle praise & approval of your idol.

Your roomate that you have grown to recognize as more than just an amazing hero you look up to but also as a friend you adore as his own person- angy pomeranian, mom friend tendecies & all.

Your roomate that you've managed to befriend as more than an ex classmate to someone you trust no just with your life on the field but also with your most vulnerable self, stripped off of your hero status when you're home stress eating cookie dough ice cream at 2 am like the gremlin you are.

Your roomate that you have promptly fallen in love with after he danced with you on the roof that one cold night when he found you up there alone, swaying to a melody lost in the wind- yet vowed to not pursue.

Your roomate that your heart grew fonder for after having seen his soft side during which he cared for you as Sunny- when he sat by you with his gentle fingers in your fur on days you were lost on ways to break the quirk, seemingly atuned to your down days, even while you were cat. All the while working his ass off to find your human self.

Your roomate that is now currently malfunctioning from your actions as you turned around & continued your walk home cooly, proud to have been able to fluster the man who has had a hold on your heart for so long now & blatantly ignoring your own burning face as if your heart wasn't about to keel over from giddiness.

"What- what the fuck was that? I-if you're going to kiss me do it right dammit! Coward! Pussy!" You heard your roomate sputter after you as he jogged ahead to fall back in pace with you, roughly grabbing your hand.

You snorted at his choice of words, readjusting his hold on you but never letting go of his hand.

"The only pussy I am is the one you couldn't say no to the moment I so much as bat my pretty eyes at you. The one you cooed & talked to even through all your complaining about me being a loud little shit. The one you told all about your precious Sunshine you worried about every ni-"

"You're never going to let me live this down are you, brat?" Bakugou winced at how much blackmail you had against him the past 2 weeks he coddled your furry ass.

"And let this knowledge of how much of a softie you are deep down under all that gruff outside go to waste? After all I had to go through? Absolutely not. Mrow, bitch."

🌟

A/n: HELLO ALL OF YOU WHO STUCK AROUND UNTIL THE END. i hope the ending was okay? i scratched all my previous drafts for it & decided on something much more lighthearted because i feel thats what made this series so fun & as lovable as it is. i love you all so fucking much & i hope you enjoyed reading mrow as much as i enjoyed writing it <33 until the next crazy series my brain comes up with <3

Series taglist: @deadpoolsvodka @zbeez-outlet @fixed211 @arael-asuka @sadcookie365 @phrogfungi @trash-heichou-kacchan @sad0ni0n @woodzonesworld @mushi42 @yappydoo @kazxtora @nnubee @chuugarettes @voidsatoru @freakyundercover @momdisappointment @simp4rengoku @yaskna @zane2408 @lynn-writes-things @dinodumbass @jihyuniepark @julietdelamare @captainchrisstan @atrainb @wannabewolf @cupidcole @atsushiki @trashbin-nie @mothmanuwu @skyesayshi @nezykoi @theredtater06 @lanaxians-2 @alextheknight707 @vollkornpraline @misakik28 @carnationhcs @some-ryvant @blubearxy @dangerousluv1 @seokjin-bby @slytherclaw1227 @tjmaxx556 @kuleo26 @answer-the-sirens @stxrrielle @call-me-drartemis @ouch-thats-harsh @coodoritoss @thychuvaluswife @dynakats @naneko-nakooooo @letharue @sleepylittlebarista @moonbinnie0983 @ninashellhole @lovra974 @i-cant-write-for-shit

#mrow #bakugou fluff #bakugou x reader #cat dad!bakugou #oliwrites

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not-goldy · 4 months

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I just know when Jennie hit send on those paris pictures, she and Tae were laughing like evil maniacs. Do tkk really think because they are a loud group and trend Tk just cause they breath next to each other, they will somehow convince people Taennie never happened and Tk is real? The entire world watched Tae & Jennie's dating life get exposed little by little, by a hacker, until they took control of their situation and went public in Paris on their own terms. The whole world is laughing at that cult. So why are Jkks even entertaining Tkk at this point? Its pointless. They are always gonna claim atomix is a private date, even with proof from Atomix it was a OT7 dinner. They will always crop members or their friends to push their ship. Its a TK private date, but all members are there. Its a TK bowling date, but Wooga is there. Its a TK skiing date, but Wooga is there. Its a TK concert date, but Nicole is there with JK for some reason and Jennie off to the side and a wooga too that Tae leaves with. Its a TK vegas date, but Hobi is there. Its a TK house date with an impromptu live, but Hobi is there. Its a TK online gaming date, but Wooga is there and Tae living with one of his Wooga members. It's a TK LA beach & dinner date, but Jimin is right there and seems RM was at that dinner, since he posted a picture. Its a TK hotel date, but other people are there. It's a TK premiere date, but other people are there. Full blown stupidity. My ship is a couple, but they don't spend couple days together, confirmed, but they do spend couple days with others, confirmed. They spend time together, but on couple days, is where they draw the line and don't? Its Tae telling us he was alone and slept through Valentines and a couple weeks later its Jk out on White Day with Jimin for me. Two couple days back to back and NOTHING from your ship. MAKE IT MAKE SENSE.

Also HELLO? Tae had another man living in his apartment. Someone he also is extremely clingy to and all over when he's around him. And MF's act like JK is jealous over Tae. Bitch please. JK don't give a fuck. Tae out here with a girlfriend and another man living at his house and MF's think JK will just be okay with all this? I'm fucking wheezing. The man was doing cartwheels on live singing Jimin songs, the day the Taennie news broke. He is the most unbothered person when it comes to Taennie. So why not leave him out of Tae's business?

Also, Its Jikook taking their first trip alone and together, but that isn't a private trip. It's Jikook together alone on Silver Day in NY, but that's not a date and Jikook in Connecticut, but that's not a private trip. It's Jikook taking a private trip to Japan before enlisting, but that's not a couple trip. It Jikook watching The Avengers with no other members, but that isn't a date. Its Jikook ice skating alone, but that isn't a date. Its Jikook out shopping alone, but that isn't a shopping date. It's Jikook together on White Day eating, but that don't count. Its Jikook together during Chuseok, but again, it doesn't mean anything. Its Jikook together on JK's bday alone (bonus for Tae asking Jimin to come sleep with him, instead of the birthday boy, WHOMP WHOMP) but that also doesn't count. Its Jikook ALONE drinking, bridal twirling and hickey sucking, but that also doesn't count. It's Jikook enlisting ALONE and together. Like get the fuck out of here, your ship will never be in Jikook's league. No one is playing your silly fucking games anymore. You ship isn't real and you can't even argue it without looking like you need a straight jacket at this point. Tae put the final nail in the coffin and Jennie buried y'all, while Jikook walking together over your graves for the next 18 months. Its over and done. Move on. You got 18 months to get your life together.

Cook

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ficthots · 1 year

Text

Thick and Thin

A/N: Okay, I uploaded this once before and it got little to no interaction so I'm trying again after getting quite a few messages with people sharing their love of this fic. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT. DNI if under 18. 18+ content only.

Word Count: 12.9k+

It was straight out of a sitcom. One of the most famous sitcoms to have ever aired. Trying not to collapse in breathless laughter while holding up an extremely heavy mattress, visions of the scene playing in your head, tears streamed down your face. It was effectively wedged between the sharp turn at your front door and the front door itself.

Despite your best attempts to shove it through the opening, it was proving futile to even try. Ross Gellar’s voice echoing Pivot! replayed over and over, forcing you to knock your knees together feeling the sudden urge to release from the continuous laughter from you and your closest friend.

Sliding down the wall just outside your new home, you were wheezing, uncontrollably coughing and trying to catch your breath as she did the same on the other side of the wall. As one of you would finally calm down, the other would scream the phrase and it would happen all over again.

Clutching your stomach you begged her to stop, needing to breathe in order to continue on, knowing he would be coming upstairs shortly and would need inside the apartment. Everyone always spoke of how terrible moving was. How exhausting it was trudging belongings from one spot to another, trying to organize an entirely new space from scratch, the toll it would take.

Except, that wasn’t the case for you and your little group. At all. The day had already been filled with laughter and excitement, not a single complaint dislodging from anyone. The thrill of a new beginning had you giddy from your early morning wake up. It was a new life you were about to start.

Doing it with him made it all the better. Finally having a place to call your own was one thing, but being able to share the space with your better half, the person you loved and adored most in the world, was a feeling you couldn’t describe if you had to. It was the start of your future.

The future you two had spent countless minutes, days, and months dreaming and crafting together. It was happening. A majority of your memories were going to be happening here. The big moments, the mundane moments, and everything in between.

You just needed to get in there first.

His arms were overloaded with boxes, not caring about the questions your small moving crew were going to ask about how the hell he was able to carry those by himself. Leaning to the side, his beaming smile slightly diminished as he took in your frame sitting on the floor, looking over to the front door and seeing the mattress somehow standing straight up on its side, but sticking completely out of the door, not touching the floor at all.

Kneeling down and placing the stack of boxes on the floor, his hands went to his hips and then focused his attention on you. His thumb pointed at the bed as his eyebrows shot up, his hand grabbing your outstretched one and pulling you up. “Need some help?” She screamed pivot from the other side of the wall, causing you to hunch back over in laughter as he rolled his eyes.

“Ah, that’s what’s happening. Move chuckles, I got it,” your hand wiped at your tears, watching as Peter lightly laughed, moving the mattress with ease from the precarious spot and moving it inside.

Going to step over through the front door his worried expression greeted you as he yelled out for you to wait. Placing the bed in your bedroom, he came back to you, an eager smile on his flushed face. Without any hesitation he scooped you into his arms, a surprised yelp leaving you at the motion.

Slapping his shoulder, you shook your head. “No, no, no! You only do this when you’re married,” he shot you an unamused look before setting you back down, motioning with your finger for him to spin around. Hopping onto his back, his hands wedged under your knees, standing and running you two into your new home as laughter flitted from you both.

Running around the small apartment took little to no time before he ran into your room and jumped on the mattress. You caught your breath, eyes slipping closed as a content sigh left your lips. His hand crept onto yours that rested on your torso, linking your fingers together.

Turning your head to look at him, he was propped up with one arm, peering down at you, eyes shimmering in the light streaming through the uncovered window. Using his free hand, he grabbed the baseball cap that sat on his head and turned it around, the bill facing backwards as he leaned down, capturing your lips against his.

“You like it? I know it’s small-” you cut him off, shaking your head as your smile only grew. “It’s absolutely perfect. It’s ours.” Your hand cradled his jaw, letting him lean in to place another chaste kiss on you before you heard a voice call out to you both from the doorway.

“No, none of that right now! We have an entire moving truck parked at the curb with too much furniture to get into this shoebox. Up!” Your mom's hands clapped at you two to follow her, May right on her heels as they talked about where the bed should go to optimize space.

It was early. Too early for anything, but especially for Peter to be up. His nightstand light was on, but dimmed to the lowest setting. The sun was already starting to peek through the curtains, but it was far too early to be up on a Saturday.

His feet came padding back from the bathroom, collapsing on the bed with a small whimper leaving his mouth. Rolling over to fully face him, he quickly attached himself to you. “Did I wake you?” The whiny and gravelly tone that came from him had your eyes fully opening to look at him.

“No, I just sensed something was off because you’re up. Spidey sense is rubbing off on me, sticky,” he hummed in response. Something was most definitely off because he didn’t have a smart remark to dish back out to you. Your hand came up, the back of it landing on his forehead and retreating just as quick.

Peter was burning up. “How long have you been feeling crappy?” He sighed, rolling onto his back and flopping his arm over his eyes, a large pout sitting on his plump lips. “All night,” you sat up, throwing the covers off your frame, feeling the cool morning air sitting in the room.

Barefooted patters echoed in the quiet apartment as you made your way to the bathroom to grab Tylenol, Vaporub, a glass of water, and a cool rag. When you reappeared in the room, the only light still being from his nightstand lamp, you saw he had moved around again.

Your hand went to his lips, pushing the pills through them and putting the glass of water there immediately after. He gulped it down, not realizing hours ago that some water would do him some good. Trying to sit up, your hand pushed back on his forehead to get him to lay back down.

“Babe. Your fever is out of control. Just lay down,” his moans of protest got louder as you picked up one of his feet, slapped a huge hunk of Vaporub on it, and placed a sock over it, repeating the motion for the other one too.

Washing your hands and returning to your shared space, he was sprawled out in the middle of the bed. Both arms extended on either side of him, wrap over his eyes, legs spread wide, covers half on him and half thrown onto the floor. You rolled your eyes.

Didn’t look like you were going to be getting back to bed this morning. Being up before the sun did give you some time to get some chores done that you had been putting off. One load of laundry already in the wash, dishes drying on the disk rack, and still a little time to get a quick stretch in.

As you started, what was a quiet home only occasionally interrupted with a snore from your partner, was abruptly halted when his whimpers filled the room again. “Buggy!” When you heard his weak voice beckon you to him, you walked into the room, pushing his damp hair from his forehead and lightly rubbing your thumb over the warm skin.

“Hey, sticky boy. How you doing?” He could hardly crack an eye in your direction. Mumbling an incoherent response, rolling away from you with whimpers falling from him, and groaning in pain, you reached over his figure, placing the water in front of his face.

Turning his head away from you, you started tipping the glass, making it dribble onto his face. “It’ll stop if you just drink it!” You argued with him, hearing him concede and take the glass to stop himself from drowning. Grabbing the bottle of cold medicine you poured the cap full and watched as he drank it and grimaced, overly gagging at the taste.

He was out within minutes. This was one of the most annoying traits of Peter. You adored the man, loved him more than anything in the world and beyond, but he was the biggest baby when he got sick. Refusing to take medicine, crying and moaning, being completely unable to function on his own.

It drove you mad. It never happened often, only on rare occasions and he would recover quickly, but during it was like fighting an overtired toddler to take a nap. Never listening, doing the opposite of what you would say, pushing you to your limits.

Look, you get it. When you’re sick, you’re miserable. Truly you are. It just didn’t matter what kind of a cold Peter got, it would knock him on his ass and he would milk it for all it was worth.

Deep down, you knew it was his way of making you feel bad for him and wanting to spend more time with you. With the opposition of your schedules it was hard. What he failed to realize is that when he was like this, you wanted little to do with him.

Instead of feeling pity for him, you felt utter annoyance. You could admit though, it was nice when Peter needed you. Given his abilities and who he was, you never really felt like he needed you for anything. Until he was sick.

As you were sitting on the couch, all of these thoughts were rushing through your mind, sighing in defeat at how your heart strings tugged in his direction. Peter needed you. Peter never needed you.

Entering the dimly lit room, your head tilted at the weakened boy sweating through your sheets and comforter. “Hey, sticky.” He peeked an eye open at your towering figure, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you on top of him.

“Where you been, buggy? I’m so sick, need you,” it was mumbled out, barely coherent, sounding stuffed and exhausted. Your hand rubbed his burning skin, putting your hand to his forehead and noticing the temperature was starting to drop.

“I’m here, babe. I’m here.”

The front door slammed behind you both as you ignored his voice calling out your name, continuing into the bedroom to get changed. “Look, all I’m saying is that I don’t appreciate him blatantly flirting with you like that. At a work party no less!” Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to fight off the impending headache.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned to slip your shoes off, placing your jewelry on your nightstand. “For the millionth time, Peter, he was not flirting with me. I don’t know if you think I’m just some-” your brain was running so quickly you tried to settle on a word, “hussy who fawns over all her male coworkers, but that is not me.”

He groaned, large hands enclosing on his face to rub at the skin. “Not once did those words leave my mouth. I would never call you that or even think that. All I’m saying is that you can be overly friendly and men read that wrong.” A humorless laugh fell from you as you shook your head, standing to get out of your dress.

“Okay, so I shouldn’t talk to any man anymore ever because they’re going to read my vibe wrong because apparently I am just galavanting around my office saying, ‘Hey, everyone, I’m friendly, come have sex with me!’, right?” Peter’s hands flew up, looking at you like you were absolutely batshit crazy.

He leaned down to take his shoes off, muttering under his breath as he did. “Can’t say a thing because-” your head whipped around to face him, craning your neck towards him, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

Shaking his head, Peter sat on the edge of the bed, loosening his tie as he did. Walking around your side of the mattress to get to him, he refused to look at you as you approached him. “No, go ahead, Peter. I insist. Do you want me to walk around with a dog collar that says property of Peter? Would that make you feel better? To let men know I’m taken because my word isn’t enough?”

In one beat, Peter had you laid flat on the mattress below him. Your eyes were wide, slightly breathless as you took in his features above you. Both of his hands had your wrists pinned to the bed, the heat of his body resting on yours, your head was swimming.

His cologne he only wore for special occasions drifted through your nose, making your eyelids flutter as he knelt down towards you. Goosebumps erupted on your skin as his voice spoke into your ear, dropping an octave as his warm breath fanned across the heated skin. “You want me to show everyone you’re mine? I’ll do that for you, baby.”

Barely getting another breath sucked in, he had you flipped, face down on the mattress, hands shoving your dress up around your hips. His large hands caressed your ass, one coming down and eliciting a groan from you as it connected to one cheek, surely leaving a large print there.

Peter was wasting no time tonight. When he got in moods like this, where he needed to show you who you belonged to. Of course, you knew he didn’t actually believe that, but you couldn’t fight the desire that would burn low in your belly when he acted like this.

The panties you had on, Peter ripped off your hips, leaving the scraps of fabric by your face. When you tried to turn to look at him, eyes going wide at the shredded material, he didn’t let you. One hand came down, shoving your face back into the bed as he shoved into you with one thrust.

A gust of wind expelled from your lungs at the sudden movement. Setting a punishing pace, still having your face mashed with the mattress, you could hardly catch your breath. The obscene noises that echoed through the room you knew were coming from the slick that was dripping down your thighs.

Standing on the tips of your toes, his pelvis continuously meeting with your ass in a way that you knew would be nothing but bruising. Both of his hands were occupied, one ensuring your posture remained the same, the other holding both of yours bound together, your clit was aching for some friction.

Mumbling like an incoherent idiot, drool dripping down your cheek and chin. “Ba-baby, ple-please,” you were overpowered by your own strong moans, feeling the tip of his cock reach even further in you. His thrust stopped, brushing the messy hair from your face, lightly slapping your cheek to get your attention, speaking in a condescending tone.

“What, baby? What do you need from me?” When you tried to respond, he released you from the confines of his grasp, turning you over to lay on your back. Your legs instantly closed around his waist, ass nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. His hand firmly gripped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Words, baby. You need to tell daddy what you want,” clenching around nothing at the word, you whimpered at the harsh grip he held you with. “Rub my clit, daddy. Please, rub my clit,” his smirk grew at your words, thumb applying light pressure to the bundle of nerves.

Small circles were intricately pressed onto your core. Eyes slipping shut at the utter relief that coursed through you, immediately followed by immense pleasure. He leaned down over you, a looming force, a glint in his eye that showed his domineering side was out to play with you tonight.

“Tell me,” a harsh slap to your clit when you didn’t instantly respond to him. He tsked at your lack of words, moaning instead at the brush of his calloused fingertips dancing on the top of your mound. “Tell me, buggy,” your breath caught in your throat as his fingers coaxed your entrance, replaced by the tip of his cock.

Choking on your response, eyes slamming shut, you fought a battle within yourself. Stop the teasing and fall into pleasure or let him torture you to see how long you could take it. A bead of sweat trickled down your neck, his tongue catching it and savoring the taste before leaving a chaste kiss in its place.

A harsh bite followed. “Be a good girl for daddy. Tell him who owns this pretty cunt of yours,” his eyes fell downcast at the mess between your legs. Your greedy hole trying to pull him further in. Anything to relieve the ache that pulsed.

“Y-you,” his head tilted to the side, ear falling towards your mouth. “Say it again, pretty. Couldn’t hear you,” you fought the urge to slap him and how much he was enjoying this, but swallowed it down, playing into the power trip he craved.

Batting your eyelashes at him, tears mixing with the makeup as it streamed down your cheeks, you kissed the shell of his ear, whispering your response into it, biting the lobe right after. “I belong to you daddy. Always.”

Those words set off a wild animal inside of him that didn’t come out often, ensuring that you would be a sore, exhausted heap the next day. Not getting rest until the first streams of light would dance through the curtains, encasing him in a warm god-like glow that he most definitely deserved.

Long nights always seemed to always fade into long days. Today was one of those days. Being bombarded at work with new projects, being pulled from meeting to meeting, not getting a lunch break, not even getting a chance to check your phone until two hours after your original clock out time to see that Peter had already left for patrol.

On top of that, it was pouring rain. You hated today. All you wanted was your partner's warm embrace and to cuddle while watching tv, but not tonight. No, not tonight. Trekking home, your pants were soaked through as were your feet from the ridiculous amounts of mini lakes that took up every street you walked on.

Expecting to get home to a warm apartment, shower, and change was not in the cards for you today either. Instead, the cold air from outside clung to your home. Shivering at the freezing temperature, it sounded like it was raining. In the house.

“Damn it,” you cursed out, thinking there had to have been a leak somewhere. Your search was stopped quickly when you found the culprit. A wide open bedroom window, leading to an entirely flooded bedroom. Running over to the window and slamming it shut, the floor squelched under the weight of your feet.

Grabbing every towel you owned, every article of Peter’s clothing, you laid them all over the floor, trying to soak up some of the liquid. After changing and sitting on your bed, a scowl on your face, you sat. Waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

The window opened again, a wet Spider-Man entering your home. “Hello, my love!” His mask was removed, a large kiss planted to your cheek, still trying to catch his breath. When his eyes fell downcast, he took in the scene, a bewildered look on his face.

“What happened, bug?” Your eyebrows went up, thumb pointing to the still open window that he had just crawled through. “Look familiar?” His jaw fell slack, moving to quickly shut the window, moving towards you with an apologetic smile gracing his lips.

Those same lips that kissed an exposed inkling of skin between each sentence spoken. “Buggy girl, I am so sorry,” his lips landed on your forearm. “I am an idiot. The biggest idiot to have ever existed,” another to the crook of your elbow. “Please forgive me.” Finishing on your shoulder, landing on your neck, then your jaw, finally landing on your own lips, you melted into him.

“There she is,” he mumbled against you, a laugh escaping as you pinched his side. “You’re cleaning this all up, okay?” He hummed in agreement, arms wrapping around you and pulling you closer to him.

“Of course,” his gloved clad hands slipped under the fabric of your t-shirt, eliciting a gasp from you. “I just have something to do first.”

Checking each of the boxes that came through the door to see what was labeled what, you pointed in the direction of wherever that room was, sending it and its carrier to the correct spot. With the main bedroom mostly finished, you moved towards the restroom.

Sure, it was small and could hardly fit you and the towel rack, but it was enough. When Peter slinked in behind you, pressed directly into your back, his arms wrapped around you.

“First aid kit there?” You held it up, shaking it and then placing it under the sink. “Made sure it was the last thing packed and the first thing out,” he kissed behind your ear then on top of your head. “You’re a genius, buggy.” When a loud banging noise came from the living room, you looked at him through the mirror.

He nodded, instantly knowing what you wanted. “Let me help with that, it can be a bit tricky and slip if you’re not careful,” Peter’s voice rang above everyone else's as he helped your dad lift up the coffee table, placing it in the correct spot.

You smiled to yourself, hearing how well he got along with your parents and best friend. Not that you were ever worried about that, but it was nice. No, you were always worried about other things.

Like getting your superhero boyfriend cleaned up after rough patrol nights.

The crashing noise announced his arrival before he had even fully entered the apartment. You woke up, blinking in the dark to adjust your eyes to see Peter still on the floor. Instantly, you sat up, jumping from the bed and kneeling down with him.

“Peter? Baby, can you look at me?” Panic laced through your words as he finally moved. “Yeah,” he was breathless, pulling the mask from his head, even in the dark you could make out all of the cuts and bruises decorating his face and neck.

You sighed, standing and taking his hand in yours. “I need you to come to the bathroom, baby. I need to work on you in there,” he nodded, groaning as he came to his feet, hunching over as he wrapped an arm around you to be dragged to the bathroom.

Sitting him on the closed toilet lid, the light showed him in a more terrifying matter. He was entirely black and blue, blood dripping from where you weren’t sure. Trying to calm the trembling of your hands down to begin cleaning him up was harder than you would’ve preferred.

His gloved hand came and grabbed yours, flashing a smile to you. “Go to bed, buggy. I can do this,” you shook your head, grabbing the washcloth to begin wiping the blood away. “No. This is my job, I got this,” the soothing motion of Peter’s thumbs rubbing circles into your hip and the quiet he offered while you worked allowed you to move quickly.

In no time at all he was bandaged up to the best of your abilities. You gave a sleepy smile as you put the items away, feeling his eyes follow your every move. “Don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably would die,” his words became more muffled as he pulled you to straddle his lap, nudging his head into the crook of your neck.

Your fingers wrapped in his long locks, arms landing around his neck as you sat. “I know you would. That’s why I’m here,” his nose brushed against your pulse point, a small groan leaving him as your hips slightly moved.

You shook your head as he slowly lifted you up, speaking quietly, scared that if you spoke any louder it would only further harm him. “Sticky, no, babe. You’re too-” he cut you off with a deep kiss, capturing your bottom lip between both of his.

He didn’t let you say anything else as he pulled your panties to the side, fully sheathing himself in you at once. You lowered yourself onto his already achingly hard shaft, accepting him in one go.

It was a reconnecting moment. A chance to show you that he was there, he was alright, and that you were always what he needed to ground him back to the moment. To stop thinking about what was happening in the Spider-Man world. Take notice of what he had here. That was more important to him than anything.

You two climaxed together, feeling his seed leak back out onto him as you fought to catch the shared breath that flew between you both. Lips having not parted once, eyes having remained shut, hands firm on the other to keep calm.

When you rested your forehead against his sweat ridden one, discolored from the strenuous events he had dealt with all evening, you felt his lips land all over your face. From the tip of your nose, to each eyelid, cheeks, eyebrows, anywhere he could. Anything to show the gratitude he felt when you would wake up in the middle of the night to take care of him.

He would never know what he had done to deserve it. You. Now as you stood, taking his hand in yours, you helped him finish undressing. Climbing into the tiny shower together, his arms wrapped around you from behind, silently clinging to you. Not wanting you to go anywhere as the warm water sprayed away the night from you both.

The shower head plunged your body in scorching water, pummeling against your head. Washing away the work day and allowing you to relax. Your partner was in the kitchen currently making you dinner, you had a new book to dive into tonight, it was going to be a great night.

Until you opened your eyes.

An ear shattering scream left your mouth, in your attempt to back up and away from it, you nearly slipped. The bathroom door flew open, crashing into the wall behind it. The shower curtain was ripped open, Peter’s eyes wild with worry.

Immediately grabbing him, dripping wet frame, you didn’t care. You just had to get away from it. “Bug, what’s going on?” His hands searched you for any signs of injury, but when he realized you weren’t hurt, his eyes followed your pointed hand.

“It’s up there!”

His head fell forward, laughing as he nodded. “Alright, alright. I got it,” he stood on the lip of the tub, hands enclosing around the spider, and making sure to keep it away from you, exiting the bathroom to release it.

Within a minute he was back, washing his hands in front of you to ease your anxiety. Still standing outside of the shower, your trembling frame was hesitant. Peter eyed you, a small smirk on his lips. “You good, babe?”

Nodding, he could tell you weren’t being honest. He moved towards you, a small sigh leaving him. “Would you like me to shower with you so you’re not alone in there?” You nodded, waiting for him to undress and get in.

“You first,” he stepped in, turning towards you and helping you back into the warm spray of water. Handing you the removable shower head, Peter pulled you into his grasp. “Always my damsel in distress.”

Your elbow popped back, connecting with his ribs as your lips set into a pout. “Shut up. I am not.” His fingers attacked your sides, shooting laughter into the enclosed space.

Speechless. Entirely and utterly speechless. You were standing in the kitchen, the box sat on the countertop, your parents all beaming at you two. “How? Why?” Was all you could mutter out. Your mom shrugged with a chuckle.

“Those pots and pans you bought were garbage. You would’ve had to replace them within a few months. These will last you a lifetime. Really, they come with that warranty.” The Caraway sets had you unable to move.

After seeing everyone on TikTok rave about these and why they were worth the insane splurge, you didn’t realize you had spoken about them so much and so often that your families would’ve noticed and bought them for you guys as a moving in present.

The creamy white was immaculate and the stainless steel handle felt cool in your hand. You could’ve collapsed right then and there. Eyes fluttering shut, you weren’t sure what to do.

“It’s a gift from all of us.” Setting the pan down as gently as you could, you rushed over to pull Aunt May and your parents into a bone crushing group hug. Peter’s laugh echoed behind you as he picked up the pan, spinning it in his hand with an unimpressed look on his face.

“I just don’t get it.”

It was what you kept repeating over and over in your head. You just didn’t get it. This project had been sitting on your desk for weeks, untouched because you just couldn’t figure it out. It was getting on your absolute last nerve.

You were losing sleep over it, wasting your entire workday by simply staring at it. Unsure what your next move was supposed to be. It was turning you into a zombie. Consuming your thoughts, hardly able to focus on anything else.

It had simply been a shitty day. A shitty week. A shitty month. All stacked on top of each other and to make matters worse, you and Peter were fighting. Over what, you had no idea, but all you knew was that you two were in a stalemate. No one willing to budge on their position to just smooth it over.

Days on end of the same bitter attitudes. Was it your fault? More than likely given how stressed you had been at work, but you really did not have the mental capacity to accept blame and truly apologize.

Entering your home, you had hoped he was going to already be gone for the night. Instead, he was standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner for himself. Which was fine, you weren’t really in the mood to eat too much anyways.

His back faced you the entire time, never turning towards you, not acknowledging you. It was fine. You didn’t want to talk anyways. Emerging from your room, changed into your lounge clothes, you were pissed to find a stain that had been washed in, now permanently there.

Moving around the space, trying not to look his way, you grabbed a bowl and a spoon. Fetching the only cereal you had in the house at the moment and the milk from the fridge, you poured yourself a bowl.

He was watching you from the corner of his eye. Despite how mad at you he was, he had to make sure you were okay. That you were still functioning to some degree, knowing what was happening at work right now. To him, it looked like you were on autopilot. Simply coasting to do what your body needed, but seeing your brain still functioning on overdrive.

Picking up your spoon, you turned to grab a napkin from the counter behind you and in the process you knocked over the gallon of milk. The white contents dripped all over the counter and onto the floor. You didn’t react right away, instead just staring at the mess.

Peter literally had to fight the urge to grab it while it was falling. His mind told him that it would feel better to see you cleaning up the mess you had made. That it was what you deserved after your fight. Did it make sense? Absolutely not, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was for you to feel as irritated and peeved as him.

What he didn't expect to see was you crumpling to the floor into the puddle of milk, sobs echoing in the room. The bowl had tumbled from your hands shattering on the floor as you went down. Cereal and porcelain mixing together.

You didn’t really know what happened. One second you were going for a napkin and the next the contents of it all were all over the counter and floor. Too much to handle at once, your body and brain begging for a break. The cries wracked your body, trembling and shaking as you cried.

The saying goes, don’t cry over spilt milk, but that was exactly what you were doing. Just one thing too many, something was going to have to cascade over at some point. Tonight, it was the milk. Your emotional bank having to withdraw something in order to keep functioning.

At first, Peter thought you had gotten hurt somehow. The realization dawned on him that it was all emotional, no physical pain or injury that he could immediately see. Your tear soaked face met his as he crouched down to your level, throwing yourself on him.

Honestly, he was going for the bowls broken and jagged pieces, but he let you wrap yourself in him. His own arms enclosed around you, hands rubbing your back as he stood you two up. You clung to him as he stood. He picked you up with him, letting you place your legs around his waist.

“Sticky, I’m sorry,” your words hiccuped in the shell of his ear, guilt wracking his body at your apology. “I know, bug, I know.” One of his hands cradled the back of your head, gently moving across the floor to not step in any of the shards. Setting you on the counter, his hands landed on the tops of your thighs as your cries slowly stopped.

Moving them to cup your cheeks, his own thumbs wiping away the stray tears, your breathing trying to even out, he offered a small smile. “I’m-I’m sorry, bu-bug,” your lips were swollen from crying, your nose running and stuffed. You were tripping over your own words, them getting caught in your throat.

He brought your head closer to him, placing a soft kiss to your forehead, your own hands grabbing his wrists, as you started crying again. “You’re alright, buggy girl. I’m sorry. How about I take you to the room, you get changed, and I’ll bring you some toast, yeah?”

You nodded, sniffling as your vision remained blurry. Your hand moved from his wrist to his cheek, a large pout sitting on your lips as you touched his face for the first time in four days. There was nothing worse than fighting with him. Given how stubborn you two were, it was always a recipe for disaster when it came to spats.

“I love you,” you murmured out, watching as his smile took over his face. “I love you, too. How about once you get changed I do something for you?” Hopping off the counter and emerging from your room in a fresh set of clothes, Peter cupped your face in his hands, bringing you to him for the first time all week.

When he pulled back, his smile was still persistent despite your constant stream of tears. “Wanna be Spider-Man?” A wet laugh escaped your throat as he handed you the mask and a web shooter in his open palm.

Slipping it on, the baggy material hung on you as he fixed the web shooter to your wrist. He crouched in front of you, letting you hop on his back as he charged out of the kitchen, running around the small space, allowing you to be Spider-Man. Even for just a bit.

Anything to make you feel better.

“No, that is not what happened, May!” Your stomach ached from the laughter that had been happening all evening. Tears were steadily falling from the corners of your eyes as May told a story about Peter eating a quarter as a child for a magic trick then having a meltdown because Ben had told him it had to come back out someway.

Peter’s face was beat red in embarrassment, the candlelight that lit the room not doing enough to cover the tint. It was the first dinner party you had hosted. Every month was a different place. Sometimes it was held at May’s, other times at your parent’s, your best friend’s apartment, Peter’s best friend’s apartment, or your brother’s place.

This was the first time you had been able to host, finally settled into the apartment and after having found a few tables that you could squish together for the night, you were ready. Having planned a wonderful menu, moving all the furniture to make space, and ensuring there were enough chairs it was exactly what you had hoped.

Standing from your chair to head back to the kitchen and grab another bottle of wine, Peter stood with you, following you into the room. Offering a small, entertained smirk in his direction, his arms caged you in, pinning you to the counter as you joked. “Did the quarter ever come back?”

Rolling his eyes at your question that had you doubling over in laughter, you felt his lips capture yours, having you stand back upright. Your giggles bled into his mouth, the sheer thought of Peter as a child, swallowing a quarter, then promptly bursting into tears afterwards was delighting you.

Pulling back, he narrowed his eyes at you. “Think that’s funny? Huh, do you?” His own chuckles mixed with his words, you nodding almost out of breath again. Shrugging, his shit eating smirk took over his lips as he sighed overdramatically.

“Okay, then. Here’s another magic trick for you,” you barely even blinked before the thwip of webs echoed out into the room, the bottle you had been holding now resting soundly in his hand. You on the other hand were webbed to the counter.

He smiled brightly, a light laugh following. “Now, for the trick. Watch as I disappear!” The door to the kitchen closed as he slipped through it despite your shocked laughter and whisper shouting his name.

Standing there in disbelief, starting to try and free yourself from the confines of the webbing, the door opened again. You stood up straight, acting like you were working on dishes, but you relaxed when you saw Peter enter the kitchen again.

“Like I would leave my damsel in distress,” groaning, you rolled your eyes at the persona you despised. “I am not-” he cut you off, solely focusing on getting you free as he spoke with you in unison, “a damsel and I am not in distress.”

You were biting back a smile at that, smacking his chest when the kitchen door swung open again. “Sweetheart, I asked you for a new knife like an hour ago,” Peter stood up straight covering the webs that decorated your hip and the counter.

Her gaze fell to you two, eyeing you both in suspicion. “Everything okay in here?” You nodded, looking back at the counter that she couldn’t see. “Oh yeah, we’re just getting more bread. We’ll be out in a sec,” she turned on her heel, watching you both in curiosity as you both beamed back at her.

When the door closed, you both focused back to the mess. “Hurry!” His nimble fingers worked fast, giggling as he worked. “I’m trying! Stop moving, you’re making it worse!” You both were giggling like madmen and although your mom couldn’t see what you two were laughing at, she smiled.

Peeking in through the crack, just to make sure you were actually okay, and seeing your head fall back as Peter said something she couldn’t quite make out, but hearing your laughter mix with his.

Nights like these made your heart soar. When everyone was good. When everyone was okay. It was these nights that you would look back on in pure admiration and yearning. For a time that you weren’t sure would happen again.

As you and Peter stood in the kitchen in utter silence, waiting for the phone to ring, you thought back to those nights. Wondering if it would ever happen again. Waiting to hear that everything was alright. That your brother was going to be fine. He had to be fine. He was going to be fine.

Getting a call early that morning from your mom had changed the trajectory of your day. Arriving at work at your normal time, 8:03 am, sitting in your chair, turning your computer on, unpacking your bag. It was regular. Supposed to be like every other day.

You were going to get through your work day, get home at 4:25 that afternoon, make dinner with Peter, he leaves for patrol once the sun goes down, and you spend the rest of the evening watching tv and reading. A normal day.

The phone call at 8:07 that morning threw that all off. Your dad told you that your mom was on a plane to California. That they had gotten news early that morning that your brother had been hit by a drunk driver just hours before. Trying to listen as he told you the latest update on him.

That had been twelve hours ago. Peter didn’t go on patrol that night. You didn’t make dinner together. You ate a bagel that Peter made for you. Only half, him polishing off the other. Sitting at the island with a chair, staring at your screen, waiting for it to light up.

They had been able to hold off on the surgery he needed until your mom got there. That had been five hours ago. Now, you sat waiting. Peter was there the entire time. Knocking knees with you, reading to you, asking for your help with sewing his suit. You had no idea how to sew, but Peter showed you how to that night.

One of the only breaks you had taken that day was the first time you had left the kitchen since getting home. Leaving the restroom, Peter’s loud voice boomed into the apartment, calling out to you. Running into the kitchen and snatching your phone, you immediately answered.

It was like the largest weight you had ever felt being taken from your shoulders. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, a large smile coming across your features as Peter stood, patiently waiting. Hanging up the call with your mom, you turned to face him.

“He’s okay. Great, actually. They said as soon as he was out of surgery he was cracking jokes with the nurses. He’s okay,” Peter’s arms swept you into his embrace as you silently cried into his shoulder. That was your partner.

The man who would drop anything at the drop of a hat to ensure he was going to be there for you when you needed him most. Who would make sure that you were okay. That you were better than okay. That you were the happiest you could be.

He had made that mistake before with someone else and he knew better this time around. He wanted to be the best he could be for you. It was the single most important thing to him. Your utter happiness.

Flopping onto the couch that sat in the empty living room, a loud groan escaping your throat as you did, you could feel the exhaustion of the day seeping into your bones. The sun was already setting below the horizon, dashing in between the various large buildings on either side of your own apartment building. The truck had been unpacked and returned. The entire family gone, leaving you alone in the apartment for the first time.

His head poked out of the door frame from the kitchen, eyes observing you to make sure you were still alive and kicking after the incredibly long day you had just endured. A soft smile played at his lips as he saw you on the verge of sleep on the sofa, sprawled out with no space for him to join.

He would make space.

You didn’t even realize you had shut your eyes, letting the sleep overtake you until you felt arms wrap around you, pulling you up and flipping you. Instead of sinking your weight into the soft and fluffy material of the couch, warmth greeted you and circled around you.

Not even bothering to peek an eye open, you fully relaxed into him, inhaling the cologne that hung to his dirty shirt that normally you would have protested against laying on, but tonight you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The security and comfort he offered with just a single embrace was unmatched, unparalleled. It was the feeling of his calloused palms rubbing against the bare expanse of your arm, occasionally slipping under your shirt to gently run his fingertips along your lower back that let you know it was him. That he was going to be here. That this was now your home. That he would do whatever he needed to to ensure that this would remain your home. Your safe space. Your haven.

The warmth that expelled from you, the gentle rise and fall of your back as your head rested on his chest, the occasional twitch as you fell further into sleep's grasp, was Peter’s anchor. It was your way of letting him know that you would always be there for him. To comfort, to protect, to do anything you could for him.

God knows he would need it. It was what nagged at him. The small voice in the back of his head that would make an appearance once in a blue moon. Peter knew at some point, somewhere down the line something was going to happen. Something that would wreck him, destroy him. Something that you would have to pick up the pieces for, to make him whole again. He didn’t want it to happen. Who would?

But it would happen. And when it does, you would be there. That was your promise. No matter what.

It had been on the news. You couldn’t believe they aired it. Happening live, no one knew it would happen. Spider-Man was there to save the day and make it all better like he always did. Except today.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t save everyone.

This was a conversation that had happened many times before. Getting him to understand that despite his best efforts, there was going to come a day where it would happen.

You just didn’t expect today to be that day.

Pacing around the living room, gnawing on your thumb nail, waiting. Simply waiting for him to finally come home. He needed to come home.

You had turned the news off over two hours ago, unable to hear them talk about it again. Instead, a silly comedy played on the television. Something to dull the screaming voices in your head. The same voices that were at odds with each other. Did you need to go find him or just wait for him to come back?

Two hours, going on three, and then four was too long. Too long to be waiting for him to come home. Slipping your shoes and coat on, you took matters into your own hands. Grabbing your house key and phone, you made your way to the front door.

If he wasn’t going to come home then you were going to go to him. Where was he? You didn’t have the slightest idea, but you would find him. As soon as you pulled the front door open, a dull thud came from behind you.

Whipping around, you saw him standing there, Spider-Man garb forgotten and dressed in regular clothes, he looked exhausted. Letting the door close, you turned and made your way towards him.

“Hey, sticky,” it was spoken as quietly as you could manage. This was uncharted territory between you two, unsure how he was going to act and respond. Anything could have happened, he could have responded in any possible way.

This was not what you expected.

A large smile spread across his face, his cheery attitude partnered with it. He crossed the space, enclosing you in his arms and placing a large kiss on your lips. It shocked you. Out of everything that could have been his emotions and feelings, the cheerful and joyous man that was standing in your living room was not what you expected. Had prepared for.

Your worried facial expression traced him as he walked through the apartment towards the kitchen, coming back just a second later with a bowl of cereal in his hands. “How was your day, baby? Did you get that project done? I know you had that presentation, too.”

He was speaking in between mouthfuls of his bites, collapsing on the couch and lifting one arm to rest on the back, beckoning you to him. Confused, but continuing to tread lightly, you gingerly sat next to him, feeling his arm pull you into his side, a kiss landing on your temple.

The remainder of the night continued in that nature. Like nothing had happened. Staying on the couch watching television, Peter demolishing the remainder of the cereal you had in the apartment, and then going to bed together after he showered.

Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to think twice about, nothing abnormal. Which is why you were so worried.

In the blink of an eye, nearly three weeks had passed since the accident. Peter hadn’t displayed any emotion regarding it at all. You were entirely unsure what to do. Would bringing it up be beneficial? He hadn’t brought it up and you didn’t want to if he didn’t want to talk about it.

Maybe he had already dealt with it and you just weren’t a part of the process. Sure, it was a bit hurtful, but if he handled it, then that was better than nothing.

When four weeks were approaching with Peter not having made a peep about it, you exploded. Sitting on the couch, watching as he discussed what was going to be happening for dinner and what you wanted to do this weekend, carrying on like nothing was wrong.

“Peter?” He hummed, sliding the sock onto his foot, the other between his teeth. When you didn’t respond right away, his eyes darted up to yours, seeing them narrowed in his direction. Irritation and anger was rolling from your figure and into the aura of the room. “Buggy?”

Shaking your head at him, your chin resting on your closed fist, you exhaled a large breath you had been holding in for nearly a month. “Are you okay?” His eyes widened in surprise, a laugh falling from his throat. Nodding in response, he shrugged, still confused as to why you were seemingly so upset.

“I’m alright. Are you okay?” You shrugged, picking the fuzz from the couch. “Honestly, I don’t know.” Peter walked over to where you were seated on the couch, trying to catch your line of vision as your gaze continued staring at the couch cushion. “Baby? What’s going on?”

Sighing, letting your eyes fall onto him, he had a true look of worry on his features. “Peter, you-I just,” you were stumbling over your words trying to figure out how to piece this together in the correct way to truly display how you were feeling.

“Peter, a child died a month ago while you were trying to save him and you couldn’t. You disappeared that night for hours, when you got home it was like nothing had happened. I keep waiting for you, or for something to happen. Like you’re going to break or something and it’s like you’re totally fine.

“If you are, that’s okay. If you worked through it in some way without me that night, that’s okay, too, but I need to hear you say that you’re okay.” When your eyes fell back to him a blank expression sat on his face. Any emotion he had been feeling, gone. His jaw was set, teeth grinding together, but his head dropped.

His hand swiped at his nose, a small sniffle following before he nodded. “I’m fine.” You shook your head, reaching for his hand as he stood. “No, you’re not.” He ripped his hand from yours, a humorless laugh fell from his lips, hands landing on his hips. “Don’t tell me how I’m feeling.”

You shook your head, as you went to speak again Peter spoke up over you. “In fact, there’s a reason why I haven’t talked to you about this. Because I don’t need to. I am fine. I have dealt with this in my own way. Don’t bring it up again.” Brows furrowing at the tone he was speaking to you in, you were taken aback, but were overpowered by the disrespect you felt.

“No. We’re not dropping it. I don't appreciate how you’re talking to me, Peter. I want you to tell me how you dealt with this,” his hands scrubbed at his face, a bewildered expression taking over his eyes. “You don’t need to know. That’s what I’m leaving this at.”

Following him and blocking his way from going back into the kitchen, you peered up at him, anger still prevalent in both of you. “No.” His hair fell into his eyes lightly as his tongue darted out and ran along his bottom lip, hand rubbing harshly at his jaw.

“Yes. Move.” Your arms crossed over your chest. “Not until you tell me how you did this.” It carried on that way for a few minutes before Peter jumped to the ceiling and tried crawling behind you to get passed, but you moved too quickly, blocking any access points for him to leave.

“Peter, knock it off! Just fucking tell me. What the fuck did you do? Is it that bad that you can’t tell me?” You were shouting, mind reeling at all of the possibilities of what he could have done, but when he yelled back, you stopped, staying rooted to your spot.

“I fucking went to Gwen! There, is that what you wanted to happen? Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make you happy?” He tried catching his breath, immediately calming down as he saw your reaction. Tears welled in your eyes, you nodded with a sniffle, chin wobbling as you stared at the far wall.

What you had assumed was just Peter bottling up all of his emotions and hiding from dealing with the situation is what you would have preferred than to what he had just told you. “Bug,” his voice was small, but echoed into the quiet room. Your hand came up to stop him from moving any closer to you.

You turned to face him, finding it entirely too difficult to even look directly at him. “Fuck you.” The seething disdain that accompanied those words, really drove it into him how much he had hurt you. Turning on your heel and going into your room, you grabbed the pillow and blanket, throwing them back into the living room and onto the couch.

Peter’s eyes fell down as he went to grab it and set up what would be his makeshift bed. You snatched it from his grasp before he could reach it, shaking your head. “No. It’s mine. I refuse to sleep in that bed. Not with you.”

Shaking your head, a decision made in a flash, you felt hot tears streaming down your cheeks. “Actually, no.” Walking over to the small entryway table and grabbing your bag, slipping your shoes and coat on, you went to the front door.

When you turned and looked at him, you could see the disappointment and regret living on his face. He knew it was wrong and that was exactly why he had kept it from you for so long. “Do not speak to me. Do not speak to any of my family. I can’t even stand the sight of you right now. Do not even try,” you could see him crumbling as you spoke.

Truly, you had no idea of where you were going to go, but anywhere was better than there. In the fortress of a life you had constructed with him by your side. It felt like it had been tarnished, made of only a facade. Nothing true. In the worst moment of need in his life, instead of turning to the woman he had sworn to craft a life with, he went back to who he had been with before.

It was the worst pain you had ever endured. Wondering if there was something wrong with you. Why you weren’t good enough for him. How he opted to neglect you and your relationship in that way. The stinging sensation of remorse filled your being. Your world was crashing down around you.

He didn’t listen to you. Instead of leaving you alone like how you demanded, you were constantly bombarded with calls and text messages, asking when you were coming home to figure this out. Home.

A singular word that you felt had been built on a set of lies. That he was never ready to move past her. That things with you had just spiraled out of control and he didn’t know how to stop it. When in times of true crisis he would always revert back to her, not you. Not being to him what you had thought. Never having held a single doubt about your relationship together until this moment, but now had you questioning everything. All of it.

Nothing felt real anymore.

A full week had gone by since you had seen or spoken to Peter. Having chosen to stay with your parents, not letting them in on what was actually happening. Just that you needed some space. Some time.

When flowers arrived at your childhood bedroom door, you stared at the vase full of an apology bouquet. Your mom thought it was the sweetest thing in the world. That even though things were bad right now that he was still doing this for you.

A knowing feeling wormed its way into your gut, telling you that he was watching. Somewhere he was spying. To see if you liked them.

Grabbing the vase and walking outside, you lifted the dumpster lid, tossing the perfectly fine arrangement in the trash. Slamming the lid down, you slinked back into your parents home, your mom deadly silent as you walked by.

Questions were swimming in her head and you knew it. Choosing to answer in one fellow swoop of a response you spoke out. “Flowers can’t fix this,” voice raw from the shed tears over the last week, it sounded foreign to your own ears.

Having had enough of sitting in your room, you needed answers. Instead of going to where you knew he waited with baited breath for you, you went elsewhere. The brick home greeted your vision as you strolled to the residence in Queens. Stepping up to the door, you lightly knocked.

Aunt May answered in record speed with a large expulsion of air. “Thank god you’re alright. Peter told me you haven’t spoken in nearly two weeks.” Stepping into the warm embrace of the home, you followed her into the living room.

As she sat with you, you turned and looked at her with tears brimming in your eyes. “I have to ask you a question and I need you to be as honest as you possibly can, okay?” She didn’t like where this was going, taking your hand in her own as she waited to hear what you were going to say next.

“Does Peter love me?” Her jaw fell slack, staring at you in awe. Shocked at how serious you were to even be asking this, tears silently cascading down your cheeks as you hiccuped. “Oh my-honey, of course he does!”

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Just not as much as Gwen, right?” At the mention of her name, May stiffened like a board. “What did he do? You tell me right now or so help me I wi-”cutting her off with a sad smile, you patted her hand. “It doesn’t matter.”

It was the answer you needed. You took your time going back to your shared apartment that night. Taking the scenic route, not wanting to rush into this.

When you opened the door, took your shoes off, and stared at the empty apartment, sadness creeped into you. The home that you two had built, sitting nearly deserted and alone. You sat on your side of the couch, flipped the television on, and sat and waited.

Hours had ticked by, mindlessly watching the screen, not remembering anything of what you had seen. When the window opened to your right, you didn’t turn to look at him. Didn’t want to really see him.

Nearly falling over where he stood, his mask was ripped off his frame, staring a hole into the side of your face. “You-you’re back,” it was spoken out in utter shock, you only briefly nodded in response.

“Not permanently.” Silence. He quickly entered the bedroom and re-emerged dressed in normal attire. Sitting on the coffee table, facing you, waiting for you to say something.

You waited. Waited for the nine minutes that were left on the air time of the show. He could wait. Like how he had made you wait all of that time after the incident. To see if you were an actual part of his life. A functioning part.

When the end credits rolled, you let out a soft sigh and shut the tv off. He didn’t push. Sitting patiently, awaiting anything you were going to say and do.

“I came back to talk.” He nodded, elbows leaning on his knees, fingers linked together. “You showed me everything I needed to know. About where we are. Where we’re going. How we were doing. Obviously not as good as I had thought, but that’s fine.”

He wanted to fight you, but knew better than to speak over you. Not right now. “It’s blaringly obvious that you will never quite love me like how you did or do Gwen.” You hoped you weren’t going to cry, but as the words left your mouth, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

Tears silently left their tracks on your cheeks, staining the skin with their traces as your eyes were downcast. Taking in a deep breath you continued on without a moment of hesitation for him to interrupt. “It kills me. I feel like I’ve given my all, showed you in every possible way that I am your person. That I am here. I thought I was what you needed, but now I can honestly say I don’t know if that’s true.”

Hiccuping through the tears, trying to get your points across, Peter stood from the coffee table and crossed the room with his back to you. His hand landed on the top of his head, tugging on the hair before landing on his hips. A sniffle echoed out in the quiet room as he turned back to face you.

Dejected.

“What-what can I do? I love you. More than I can even describe and I made a mistake. A massive mistake that I can’t take back. Baby, you gotta tell me what to do to fix this.” By the time he had finished he was back in front of you, crouched and taking your cold hands into his warm ones.

Your eyes shut, not wanting to see his skin touching yours, but savoring the feeling of it. “Tell me the truth. About it all.” Your tear filled eyes met his and he nodded with a small shaky exhale of breath.

Removing his hands from yours he rubbed his face before starting, trembling hands coming back to enclose around yours with no fight from the receiving end. “You have to know that I have no feelings for her. Hardly even a friendship, but she was there at the start of it all. When it happened, I-I couldn't come back to you in the state I was. I couldn’t let you see me like that, bug.”

Your brows furrowed at his words, face scrunching up in disbelief. “That makes no sense, Peter.” You weren’t buying it. He was watching you slip further and further away. “I’m supposed to be the rock. The unmovable force that can weather any storm. When-when it happened, I was-wasn’t able to get control of myself.

It was the worst state I had ever been in. I didn’t want you to see me like that. I couldn’t let you. Baby, you’re my everything and I thought I was protecting you.” As he continued to talk, tears fell from both of your eyes, his hands roamed the bare expanse of skin under his palms, trying to soothe you whilst you both shattered before one another.

“It was such a mistake. I regretted it the moment I saw you, bug. I’m so sorry,” your sob caught in your throat, letting him drop his head, kissing a trail up your arms to your neck where he stayed, tears pooling on the skin. “I’m so mad at you, Peter. I’m mad at myself for-for making you think that you couldn’t come to me. I don’t know what else I could’ve done to show you that!”

The tone of your voice lifted with confusion, a small shout escaping you as the emotions overflowed. His shaking head was him trying to show that it wasn’t you. Despite everything it wasn’t you.

“It’s me. I had this connotation in my head that I couldn’t show you that side. I knew you had always told me that when it eventually happened that you would be there. In my head it was never going to happen and when it did, I didn’t want to show you that I was weak in any way. For god’s sake I’m fucking Spider-Man,” your hands cupped his cheeks, peering into the pooling irises that had bloodshot veins surrounding them.

Swirled with pain and anger. Not at you, but at himself for not knowing what to do. For allowing any sense of weakness to happen and never wanting to have shown you that he could break. In his eyes, he couldn’t. Not for you.

“You’re Peter Parker most importantly! A human man who is my partner. I am so sorry if I’ve put these-these pressures on you to make you think that you can only be strong around me, but that is not a partnership. I-I want you to be vulnerable and show me everything there is with you. I love you, Peter. You. Come. To. Me.”

As you finished, he launched himself at you. It had been weeks apart, questioning everything, and although there was still much to figure out in the hours and days ahead, at this moment it didn’t matter. When you had him against you once more, in a messy and miserable way, desperate to have your other half with you again.

Through thick and thin, for better or worse, these were the promises you had made to one another that you knew you two would honor for as long as you had with him by your side. Even when you two were at your lowest, it didn’t matter. It was you two.

Christmas had come so quickly this year. A year of immense struggle between you two. Where Spider-Man had taken over your lives, so much to the point where he couldn’t work. One income to support both of you with occasional photographs sold to the Daily Bugle. It had been rough.

Exhaustion sat deep in both of your bones. Peter’s face was bruised more often than not. Constantly on the mend after dealing with issue after issue. You taking on as much work as you possibly could to make ends meet. It killed him seeing you doing this, even trying to take on a second job.

But for the greater good, this is just how it had to be. For a bit.

Agreeing this year that no gifts would be for the best, just spending time with one another, having a great dinner and watching Christmas films all day long. It was going to be great.

And it was. You two had a wonderful day, enjoyed a delicious dinner that you cooked together, even spent some time on the phone with family and friends. Now, you two were lounging on the sofa, snuggled under a blanket, sipping hot chocolate and enjoying Elf.

Peter was acting jumpy and despite your best efforts to ignore it, you just couldn’t. Giggles flew from you as you poked his side, seeing the smirk take over his face at your actions. “Alright, Parker, I’m biting. What’s going on with you?” In no time at all, he jumped from the couch.

Returning from the bedroom, both of his arms were behind him as he ventured back out to where you sat. “Peter,” you took a beat, staring him down as he sat back on the couch, arms still behind him, “what do you have?”

His nonchalant shrug as his attention focused back on the television gave you time to jump him. Your laughter mixed as he moved his arms to keep whatever it was in his hands out of your reach, pulling it around your body, above your head, back behind his back, just enjoying the true struggle you put up.

When he finally decided you had enough, straddling his waist, your eyes grew misty as the tiny gift bag sat in front of your face. “Merry Christmas, my buggy girl.” Pouting, you lightly grabbed the red bad from his hands, dropping it onto his stomach as you stared down at him.

“Pete, I-I didn’t get you anything,” he cut you off, putting the gift bag in your hands. “Shh, I know you didn’t and I didn’t want you to. You’ve done so much for us this past year, I needed to show you some sort of appreciation.”

Sniffling, you pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, seeing a small jewelry gift box sitting at the bottom. Your hands reached in, feeling the soft box, pulling it out and quickly peeking back at the boy. He looked like a child on Christmas morning. It warmed your soul. Knowing that he wanted to do this for you one way or another.

When you removed the top, a small gasp fell from your lips, eyes welling up again as you took in the earrings. There sat a pair of earrings, books, that had the title of your favorite book on them. It was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given you before.

He lightly nudged you with his knee, causing you to bounce ever so slightly as you tried to peel your eyes away from the gift. “You like them? I found someone on that website you like so much. If not we can always return them and get you some-” you cut him off by wrapping your arms around his neck, smushing your mouth to his.

Feeling his laughter seep into you, shaking your bodies as he did, hands splayed across your back as he held you to him. “They’re amazing, sticky. Really, they’re the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I love you so much.” His hands moved from your back to your face, wiping away the tears.

While nights like that made you realize how much you loved your partner and reminded you that no matter what you two would be there for each other, it was the average nights that had you in total bliss.

The nights when it was just you two, living your daily life, sharing the space of your person. Where you were sat on the couch, reading a novel that you had seen on social media, but despite the raving reviews you just couldn’t get into it. Peter sat opposite of you, reading some book on physics that you would never be able to understand no matter how much he tried to explain it to you.

Deciding that you wanted his attention, you let out a sigh. Peeking over the cover of your book, you saw he hadn’t diverted his attention at all. Going again, this time just a tad louder than the last, his eyes briefly left his own text to glance at you. Ensure you are okay.

When he noticed that you were fine, he continued on. Another, louder sigh escaped your lips, head falling back, but Peter continued to ignore you. Having had enough of it, you crawled over to him, pushing down his book to get his attention to you.

“Pay attention to me,” he rolled his eyes, closing the book and setting it on the coffee table next to you. His hands found home on your waist as you straddled him. Instantly crouching down to meet him, his warm palms slipped under your shirt, greeted by the smooth skin underneath.

Deepening the kiss, you moaned as his hands continued their northern travels, cupping the supple flesh and tweaking your perked nipples. Slow and lazy were the kisses shared, movements basic and comforting, nothing extravagant and perplexing. Home.

Breaths shallow and constant, naked against one another, riding him like it was your second job. Admiring you like the most magnificent species of woman he had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes upon. Captivated by your utter beauty. Eyelids so heavy they could hardly remain open to see who laid beneath you, but you knew the feel of him like it was your second skin.

Hands braced on his chest, chasing your highs, feeling the pull of you to him, your mouths met once again as they slowly washed over you. Nothing so intense that you couldn’t come to mere seconds later, but simply a release for both to enjoy tonight.

These were the nights you adored with him. You could only hope for a lifetime of them together.

Plopping down on the couch with your still far too dirty clothes, boxes stacked as high as the ceiling surrounding you both, you felt the tiredness sitting deep in your bones. You had tried making a dent on them while Peter ran out to grab dinner, but you still had mountains to go.

Hearing the door open, you peeked around the corner to see him making his way in, french fry hanging out of his mouth, hat barely sitting on top of his head, hair a wild mess underneath. “Okay, I figured that since this is our first night here we needed to get something in the area. You know, start trying out the places.”

Humming in response as he took his seat next to you, one large hand landing on your leg as he did, he showed you the takeout bag. “Burger #12?” You read out loud, staring at him with confusion evident in your eyes. He shrugged, removing the contents and handing you one burger from the bag.

“I mean if there are other eleven Burger restaurants they must be doing something right!” You had to agree with him, sinking your teeth into the meat and being enthralled when the delicious tastes washed over your tongue. Moaning, you immediately took another bite, giggling with your mouth full as Peter brought a napkin up to the corner of your mouth, wiping away the stray ketchup.

You two ate and discussed what still needed to be done around the apartment, trying to divide tasks up for the next couple of days before his phone went off on the counter. He stood, surveying the message and groaned.

Rushing to the luggage that sat partially open in the corner of the room, he grabbed the suit, getting changed in the blink of an eye, shooting you a sheepish grin as he finished. “I gotta-” pointing at the open window, you waved him off with a roll of your eyes.

“Go save the world, Spidey. I’ll be here when you get back.” He rushed over to where you still sat on the couch, planting a sloppy kiss on you, before jumping out the window. The thwip of his webs echoing into the night.

Futures were positive bright beams of light. Hope that held together even the darkest times that plagued the world. You couldn’t wait to see yours with the man you loved most.

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