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maryangelex · 8 months

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Home is the Feeling of You

John Price x Reader

Summary: You’re Price’s fiancé back home and it’s been months since you’ve seen him. He’s been on deployment and days have been getting lonelier the more days pass. Until you get home one night from work to a more than pleasant surprise.

Warnings/Tags: civilian!reader, fiancé!reader, creampie, domesticity, domestic!john price, fluff to smut, praise kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, masturbation, (light?) breeding kink, phone sex, spit as lube

A/N: so here’s the anticipated civilian!reader fic! I’m just a simp for this man being a husband or anything domestic about him. Enjoy!!! ;)

You were exhausted from work; feet swollen from being in heels all day, muscles tense and eyes burning with the desperate need to be closed and drifted to sleep. You were on your way home but weren’t too eager to get there, if you were being honest.

Your home felt cold and empty despite your best efforts to make it a cozy abode for you and John. But it was hard to feel the slightest bit of warmth in it whenever he was deployed. He had been gone for months now, you had lost count of how many since every day that passed without him felt like an eternity.

You two tried to keep in contact as much as possible. He called you nearly every day, as best he could; sometimes the calls would last seconds other times you managed to get half an hour with him to vent and catch up.

You felt bad every time you complained about your day, though, since he was in quite literally a battlefield most of his time. But he insisted you told him everything, he loved hearing you complain about mundane things, hearing about what shitty thing your boss did, or about your coworker’s crummy love life. It made him feel closer to you and gave him a sense of home to listen to you talk about your day.

When John would say things like “I miss you, love, I’ll be home in no time” or “I can’t wait to kiss that pretty face”, you couldn’t help but feel a fire kindling in your chest. It made you feel warm inside to hear him say that because you knew it was true; John wasn’t a man who lied, he carried his heart on his sleeve for you.

And when he wasn’t being tender and sweet, telling you how much he missed you and loved you, he’d let you know how desperate and needy he was for you. He’d tell you how the sound of your voice alone made his cock twitch in his pants. How the hand that wasn’t holding the phone had slid down his trousers, slowly stroking himself through his boxers.

You’d press your thighs together, listening to his husky voice become almost a whisper on the phone. His breath audible through the phone, letting out soft needy whimpers and promises about what he’d do to you the second he got home. You’d let yourself indulge and return the favor to him by telling him how you were wearing whatever lacy panties he’d bought you and how you were writhing in your shared bed as you pleasured yourself to the sound of his voice.

Still, those steamy calls between the two of you could only do so much for you. It only momentarily veered the loneliness away. You wanted him in your bed with you, wanted to have him watch football games on the couch, wanted to have date nights with him every Friday again, wanted his presence to warm up your flat and make it a home.

Once you got home the sun had already set. You took the stairs up to your and John’s shared flat, and with a sigh of relief, you pushed the door open. You walked in and closed the door behind you, dropped your keys on the tablet at your entryway, and stepped out of your shoes. Your feet touched the cold floor under you and the sensation drew another content sigh out of you.

You noticed the light in your kitchen was turned on. Maybe you left it on this morning after making breakfast without noticing, you were in a rush after all. As you approached the kitchen you heard the sound of something sizzling in a pan. Your heart skipped a beat, a smile creeping on your face at the realization that John was home. When you saw him there, standing in front of the stove with his back to you, you were filled with glee. Your stomach fluttered like it did the first time you two met when you bumped into him at that bookstore and almost spilled coffee all over him. When you first locked eyes with his, those glimmering blue pools.

He glanced over his shoulder and flashed you a smile before turning back to whatever he was cooking so diligently.

“Welcome home, hun” he greeted “‘m makin’ us dinner since I knew you’d be beat from work”

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Your lips pressed against the muscles on his back, peppering kisses on the center of his spine, his shoulders, the nape of his neck. Your arms travelled up the front of his body, feeling the muscles on his chest and abdomen shift as he moved his hands whilst he cooked. You hugged him tightly, squeezing him as if to make sure he was really standing in front of you. As if the tighter you squeezed the more he materialized in your apartment.

“Not too tight, love, you’re squeezin’ the wind outta me,” he chuckled.

“I just missed you so much, John,” you confessed with another tender kiss to his back.

He hummed in acknowledgment with a smile still stuck to his face. He plated the meal for both of you; salmon and stir fried veggies. You released your arms from him painstakingly and grabbed a couple of wine glasses to pair with your meal. John took your plates to the couch while you brought the wine.

You collapsed down on the couch beside John, releasing another heavy sigh as your muscles sank on the plush material. John had set the plates on your coffee table along with the glasses, and handed you a fork whilst encouraging you with a gentle chuckle and a “Eat up, love.”

You sat up on the couch, turning to look at him. Both of your hands rose up to him and cupped his face lovingly. You looked deeply into his eyes; those eyes that always sucked you in, made you feel safe and loved. He looked at you with so much adoration, like he was silently telling you how happy he was to see you, be home with you. You leaned forward and clashed your lips with his, not pulling back for a minute and savoring the sensation of his lips against yours, how his mustache and beard scratched your soft skin. The two of you held your breath as you held each other with your lips, feeling as if pulling back was not an option. When you finally released each other, you sighed, your foreheads leaning against each other as you rubbed the tip of your nose against his.

“Missed you, hon,” he whispered, giving you another kiss, this one more chaste and playful than the prior one. His hand patted your knee, “C’mon, food’s gettin’ cold and I’m bloody starvin’. ”

You giggled as you both dug in. One of the things you missed the most about John was how well he cooked, his meals were hearty and comforting just like his presence. The two of you enjoyed your food as you caught up with him on everything you hadn’t mentioned in your calls these past few months. John spoke much less given the nature of his work, he much more enjoyed to listen to you, and he did so attentively.

At the end of your meal there was only the wine to sip on as you enjoyed each other’s company. The TV played quietly in the background. You were laying on the couch, your torso reclining on the arm rest as your feet sat on John’s lap next to you. He caressed the smooth skin of your legs with his big hands, gently squeezing the muscles on them every now and then. You nudged him with your foot, silently instructing him to keep up the massage. He took your foot in his hands, they engulfed him completely as he squeezed and rubbed them with his palms and thumbs. You winced at the feeling, making him stop and look at you.

“That alright?” He inquired, you gave him a nod in response.

“Just sore from standing all day”

“Let me take care of it” he grinned, his hands returning to work on your feet. His touch traveled up your leg, arriving at your calf, rubbing the tender muscle and eliciting a groan from you. John was enjoying the sounds he drew from you. His hands were getting more adventurous, sliding up past your knee and kneading at your thick thighs now. You gave him a grin and a cheeky look; he returned it.

“What’s crossing your dirty little mind, sweet girl?”

“Same thing as yours, hun”

His hands rubbed your thighs, putting pressure on them as he grabbed and massaged the bulks of muscle and flesh. You bit your lip as his hand wandered under your skirt. He was enjoying himself seeing your expressions shift and your cheeks flush red as he touched you. You reached one hand over to caress his forearm with your finger tips as he slid his hand further up your inner thigh, and your legs spread slightly as a quiet invitation.

“Needy girl,” he teased.

“C’mere already, John, will ya?” you quipped. John complied with your demand, as if waiting to hear you say it, like he needed your permission. He shifted on the couch, moving the leg in his hands to his other side so he could sit between your legs. He grabbed both of your thighs on each side, lightly sliding you down so you were flush with him. You could feel the bulge in his jeans pressing against your clothed heat. You teased him by rolling your hips against him a bit, to which he responded to with a groan and a squeeze to your thighs.

He bunched up your skirt to reveal your panties. His fingertips tracing the soft material over your hips and pelvis. Your hands rested on each side of your head as you watched him with lustful eyes. Now his hands were grazing over your mons, lowering to the crotch of your panties that was already saturated with your juices. His touch made you blush even more, you were embarrassed by how easily the man could make you wet, as if it was the first time he’s ever touched you.

“My girl’s so eager, look at how wet you are” he grinned, his voice low and sultry. He grabbed the hem of your panties and tugged them down, slowly sliding them past your legs and then discarding them. One of his hands palmed your exposed cunt. You wiggled your hips against it and let out a needy whimper.

“John, don’t tease me” you scolded him in a soft voice, more desperation than anything.

He hummed at your comment, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, while his other hand went back to massaging your thigh. He observed as his fingers worked between your folds, his eyes fixated on your glistening pussy. It made his mouth water at the sight of his fiancé being so needy for him, it made him think how much he really missed having you in his grasp. He placed his hand on your mons, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles around your yearning clit. It made you moan to finally feel his touch on your sensitive bud.

He cursed under his breath at the sound, his cock twitching eagerly in the confines of his jeans. You reached one of your hands to stroke him through the rough fabric, tracing the print of his dick.

“Please, John,” you begged “I want you already”

John chuckled, a hint of mischief behind it. “I know, love, I know…but let me take my time to enjoy you, yeah?”

You pouted but gave him an abiding nod. He took his hand off you, making you whimper and your clit pulsate at the loss. He shifted on the couch again, now kneeling in front of it as he pulled your legs again to face him. You were hanging off the edge of the couch in front of him with your legs draped over each of his shoulders, his face inches from your heat.

“Fuck, I missed this pretty pussy,” his breath fanned against your sensitive cunt, and you were so desperate for him to devour you already.

He stuck his tongue out and licked a stipe up your pussy, the taste of you making him moan and roll his eyes back. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh full of relief. Your hands pulled your skirt higher to watch him savor you. He lapped at your pussy, tongue flat licking from your hole to your clit. His hands gripped your thighs as they closed around his head. Your eyes would not break from the sight of him eating you out like it was his last meal on earth.

His lips closed around your swollen clit and sucked on it, making the muscles on your thighs twitch and a whimper fall from your lips. He alternated between encapsulating your clit in his mouth and licking tight circles over it with the pointed tip of his tongue. He was making you a mess of moans and whimpers as your hands clutched the material of your skirt.

He reached his arms under your thighs and over your pelvis; one splayed out and held you still while the other spread your lips apart, exposing your clit fully for him to once again abuse it with his mouth. His lips wrapped around it, sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves, making your eyes roll back and your hands fly to his hair, releasing a moan with his name attached to it.

You received a moan into your pussy from him in return. He latched his mouth onto your clit, lips sucking and massaging it. His hands now gripped your hips, grinding them against his face as he clung his mouth onto your pussy.

You felt your orgasm pooling in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes were so far into the back of your skull you were seeing stars. Your mouth chanted John’s name loudly like a prayer for salvation, pleading him to let you cum.

He nodded his head in unison with your hips as he licked your pussy, tongue giving special attention to your clit. He whimpered into it in desperation to feel you cum all over his face.

“C’mon baby I know you’re close, be good and cum for me” he mumbled against your cunt, practically begging you.

The grip on his hair was unrelenting, your back arching off the couch and hips slamming into his mouth. Your orgasm surged within you, ready to erupt like a volcano of pleasure. You missed him so fucking much. He knew exactly how to please, always has. You rode his face as you came, your hot liquid leaking out of you and onto his face, coating his beard in it. You were twitching in his grip, your hips stilling and mouth agape as a choked out moan emerged from you.

John’s grip on your hips was literally bruising and you couldn’t be happier to have a reminder of his return home later. He slowed down, lapping at your vulva and kissing your soaked pussy, making sure to savor every bit of you.

He looked up at you, sitting straight up with your legs on his shoulders, his eyes gazing at you lovingly as you still panted and came off your high.

“You’re gonna give me one more, right love?” He said peppering sloppy kisses in your inner thigh. You nodded your head drunkenly. He reached up to your skirt, finally pulling it off you, as you worked on unbuttoning your blouse as best you could with your clumsy, shaky hands. But John was too impatient; he clutched the fabric and tore the buttons apart with ease like he was tearing a piece of paper. He chuckled at your surprised expression, he knew he’d get an earful from you later when you weren’t too hazy to scold him.

“I’ll get you a new one, sweetheart,” he said as his hands found your breasts, massaging them before unclipping your bra and tossing it away. He stood up in front of you now, your legs around his hips, and he took in the sight of his soon-to-be-wife all flustered and naked for him. That body he admired so much, that soft supple skin he loved to bite and caress, those perfect breasts and that pretty pussy that loved his cock so much.

He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged down his boxers, cock springing out free and swollen. The sight of it made your pussy flutter, ready to take him in finally. You were aching for him, already felt yourself aroused and ready for another orgasm from him.

He cupped your mouth in one of his hands, silently instructing you to spit on it for him, to which you complied. He brought the hand to his cock, pumping it a few times and lubricating it with the spit you provided for him. He aligned his fat tip with your entrance, slowly pushing it in at a burning pace. You moaned at the sensation, it had been too long since you had taken in John's impressive size and you were not as accustomed to it. You had almost forgotten how fucking good it felt to have his full length in you up to the hilt.

He cursed under his breath, "Fuckin' 'ell, love, I missed how good your pussy takes my cock", his hand briefly caressed your cheek when the base of his cock was flush against your pussy. His hands gripped under your thighs, his knees were on the edge of the couch and he folded you into a mating press position. His cock was buried impossibly deep inside of you, you could feel him in your cervix.

John began to move at a slow pace, his cock sliding in and out of you slowly, making obscene squelching noises that echoed throughout your apartment. "S'tight and wet f'me, darling", he mumbled. He gradually picked up the pace, his hands held onto the back of the couch while yours held your own legs up and open for him.

His pace became harsher and faster, pulling moans from the two of you. His balls slapped against your ass as he thrust into you, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix making you almost scream with pleasure.

"Ah, John..." you started, barely able to gather words to say as you looked at his face with wide eyes, your pupils blown, "J-John, you fuck me so good...I missed how good you fuck me"

Your words made him feral, making him pound into you. He watched your expression hungrily; lips parted shining with drool, cheeks bright red and burning, and your pretty eyes glossy with lust as they looked up at him.

"Fuck, baby, fuck..." he groaned as he leaned back, sitting up straight and grabbing your waist, slamming you against his cock as you held your legs open for him still "wanna see you with a big round belly under your pretty white dress... wanna fill you up with my cum, sweet girl"

He pressed a hand against your abdomen, "Feel that? y'like feelin' my cock inside you?" The pressure of his hand mixed with his words and relentless pounding made you mewl, your throat hoarse from all the noises John was drawing out of you.

"Y-yeah, John, feels s'good," you whimpered watching his dick bulge within you. You felt another orgasm surging like a wave in your stomach, your walls pulsated and clenched around John's throbbing cock. He felt you close, he knew you were about to cum when your cunt gripped his length relentlessly. He brought two fingers up to his mouth and wet them, then placed them on your pussy, rubbing circles rhythmically with every thrust.

"Cum for me, darling, cum around my cock," he said breathlessly, his eyes fixated on your face as he fucked you and rubbed your swollen bud.

You were euphoric, the overstimulation pushing you over the edge. A couple of more thrusts and attention to your clit and you were gone. Your legs twitched and your body convulsed as you came, gripping John's cock with your walls tightly. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes.

It took everything in John to not let himself cum right then and there, the feeling of your walls constricting him almost pushed him over the edge with you. But he had other plans; he withdrew his cock from you briefly as he took you in his arm effortlessly, flipping the two of you around. You were shocked and puzzled at the quickness of it, now you were sitting on John's lap all fucked out and out of breath. He had you straddle him and you hold up yourself the best you could, with whatever strength your muscles had.

"J-John, please, I-I can't" you begged, holding onto him and already feeling his tip against your tender entrance again.

"Shh, s'alright, hon, you can do it, I know you can," he cooed, his lips against your ear as he slipped his cock back into you, "just can't get enough o' you"

He held you with one arm firmly around your waist and his other hand gripping your ass, his lips kissing your neck and coaxing you with praises and encouragement as he sunk you down on his cock. You moaned at the intrusion, you were so sensitive it was maddening. Your body was limp as you rested on him, arms lax around his shoulders.

You shut your eyes and let him fuck himself into you, letting him overtake your sense once again. He pounded up into you, holding you in place as his hips thrust up into your abused cunt. You were a mess of moans and whines as he chased his own high.

He was grunting and cursing under his breath, "My pretty fuckin' wife, my girl...takin' my cock so well...bein' a good girl lettin' me fuck you senseless." He was close, his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. He hoisted your body up, grabbing your hair to make you look at him. You were cockdrunk, out of your mind, but you felt a third orgasm about to hit you like a truck again. John admired your dazed expression, his blue eyes now black with pleasure, he panted exhaustedly and full of desperation to empty his balls in you, fill you up like he said.

He took your face in his hand and clashed your lips together, moaning into your mouth as his hips stilled and the sensation of his cum flooding your insides made you cum with him. Both of you moaning into each other's mouths, your cheeks once again saturated with more tears. You pulled away from each other, panting out of breath with your sweaty foreheads resting against each other. You felt John's hot cum travel out of you between your legs. The hand that gripped your hair now softened, patting the crown of your head and smoothing out your hair. He looked into your eyes, admiring your post-orgasm face, basking in your beauty and in the afterglow of his own orgasm.

You smiled at him breathlessly, exhaustion all over your expression, you kissed him once more, this time more tenderly, putting all the love for him that filled your heart into your kiss. You pulled away and cupped his face, the two of you held each other, sweaty bodies against each other.

"Welcome home, John."

A/N: y'all... i did not intend for this to be so long again!!! but if you loved it and made it this far, let me know!!! thnx for reading ;)

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anantaru · 1 year

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— sleeping over for the first time

including scaramouche, heizou, kazuha, xiao x gn! reader

genre: fluff, they‘re nervous, kissing, loads of cuddling

— scaramouche

with absolute certainty, the moment you had asked scaramouche if you could sleep over at his place for the first time, his mind threatened to black out in front of your eyes.

obviously in your relationship, things were destined to be quite behind time, it was important for the both of you to take things slow and without rush so no one would end up feeling overwhelmed.

as luck would have it, it was clear you both were ready to take it a further level up.

naturally, it was one thing to meet each other and go on a date, but another to sleep over and spend the night, most importantly, wake up encircled in your arms the following day.

so for quite a while, it rattled an undeniable horror in his unruly thoughts, clearly scaramouche desired to have all ready and set for you but how was he possibly supposed to sleep while you're next to him?

what if the awkwardness would suddenly become so overbearing that one of you would die off suffocation?

mindlessly rehearsing the lines he had set in his brain, you at last, had come to sleep over at his place with his arms already greeting you.

"this is my bed, if you don't fancy it that's on you."

primarily calm, he had now turned back to his usual self, scaramouche found comfort in just being himself and he was thoroughly filled with joy that you did not mind his sense of wording.

"it looks very comfortable, i love it." he took in a second to indulge in your small compliment before snapping himself back to reality. "if you say so."

after a nice dinner the both of you shared, night already approached with you getting ready to sleep.

followed by putting on your sleeping garments, scaramouche and you lowered your bodies into the comfortable cushions together.

the contrast between your slightly nervous, but still composed being and him absolutely not knowing what to do with himself was somewhat hilarious in your eyes.

he could be especially adorable whenever he got flustered by small things like that, might remind him sometimes that that‘s one of the things that made you fall for him in the first place.

taking matters into your own hand, you slowly drew yourself to his body before cautiously looping one arm over his body to rest your head close to him.

scaramouche lightly flinched at your touch, just a bit, it took him off guard but he did not complain, in truth he was delighted that it was you who took the first step because he was sure he wouldn't be able to move a muscle all night.

breathing out relaxingly through your mouth, you voiced your last words to your boyfriend.

"goodnight kuni." to add to it, you made sure to leave a small but memorable kiss on his soft cheek before gathering yourself back on his cold chest.

barely, he was barely able to say anything back. But you sure oughta give him some slack for not saying anything snarky back, at this point he was more nervous than you were.

how do you seem so calm when he's literally dying next to you?

he very much rambled on about this in silence as he turned his body towards your own at last, to of course, embrace you back and get on with this.

his hand was until now shaking but gingerly stilled completely upon placing it on your warm hips.

"goodnight to you too."

— heizou

ah, well, you're mistakenly aware of your boyfriend and his infamous tendencies of being bold in your relationship.

lets say, the both of you shared a nice date together, strolling through the ever so ravishing inazuma city, hand in hand, before he decided to walk you home at last— as heizou tends to do quite often.

by the end of it you beckoned him to come inside for a couple more rounds of cuddling and sweet talks about your days.

but especially after all of that, heizou will become quite tired, he'd rub his blurry eyes ever so often and hug himself closer to your chest before just blurting it out to you.

"i'm sleeping here tonight, okay? okay."

his words were hazy and low now, they broke a little towards the end by how drowsy he had gotten, with that it was only a matter of time before he was fully gone.

"aren't you uncomfortable like this?"

it's as if he didn't even need an answer from you as well, heizou was extra sleepy and wasn't capable of moving a muscle, even if you denied his request, you'd be the one who’d have to walk him home instead.

his whole play with you was a hot take, but you did not mind. Clearly your relationship was very much fresh but it was going to happen sooner or later before you'd sleep over at his place, or vice versa.

especially since you preferred to sleep in your own bed, it was a lot more comfortable for you.

mindlessly, you slipped out of his grasp before he whined for you to come back. You rolled your eyes at him and struggled to piece the words he had thrown towards you together, at this point your boyfriend was simply muttering nonsense to himself.

the most important necessity in your eyes was to get a few extra blankets, in truth, you were quite nervous about all of this but the excitement deep within you took over.

the connection you shared with heizou was already strong on its own but to share a bed with him and wake up the next day was something deemed as romantically intimate in the beginning of each relationship.

before throwing a blanket over your boyfriend, you quickly slipped out of your clothes to put the garments you were sleeping in on, strolling back at last.

frankly then, you got a glance of heizou grimacing a loving grin at you through his sleepy face.

swiftly his arms flew up in the air towards your body to motion you back at him, whining like a puppy when you of course, obliged to his pleas.

"finally, i thought you'd never come back to me."

who knew heizou could be so dramatic when he was sleepy? "i was barely gone." at the last giggle, you closed your eyes to slumber away, this time with your boyfriend by your side.

heizou‘s natural body heat melted into you and at this, you felt secured, safe and were certainly ready to fall asleep.

— kazuha

as were most situations with your boyfriend kazuha, this too, was the result of a spontaneous effect taking place.

he truly couldn't keep his hands off you, they'd either have to be entangled with your own or carefully clasped around the entirety of your body.

after all, kazuha wanted you to be snug and warm at all times, ever so often rubbing calming circles on your back while you were telling him all about yet another boring day which somehow sounded exciting to him.

you see, kazuha was a great listener, and there was nothing he treasured more than you fully trusting him and talking about whatever crossed your mind.

so he figured, maybe, he should just ask if you want to sleep over tonight? it was already appeared to be quite the night, the scent of rain was laced around the cold air and he didn't want you to catch a cold either.

"what do you think of the idea to sleeping over at my place?"

he approached you slowly, noticeably he took baby steps to voice his question, whispering it against the shell of your ear while you were still locked in his sweet embrace.

"sure, if it's really fine by you."

deep within your core, you had anticipated this for a fine while, so you're naturally excited to finally fill a new sense of innocent intimacy in your relationship.

at this, you can be sure about it that kazuha will prepare everything himself, he wants you to feel just like home and doesn‘t require any help from you.

because you, in his heart, were his home so obviously he desired to awaken the same emotion in you. If his place became like a second secure home to you, he'd be more than delighted and filled with sheer bliss.

the thought alone of having his arms around you while dozing off to sleep together made his heart swell heavily, bubbling with excitement.

all the greater was the experience as he got back with an extra pair of blankets and a soft pillow, gently placing it where it belonged before draping the cover over your bodies.

"come here."

the next gesture of his was easy to decipher, kazuha wanted you near and spread his arms apart so you could properly find a homely spot to sleep on, embracing him back.

"are you comfortable?" he gingerly kissed your forehead, once, twice, before lowering his head to meet your glowing eyes, "i am."

the soft hums of his voice were relaxing like a silent sea on a calm night, helping you doze off.

furthermore, the once nervous emotion had soon gone missing and the anticipation of waking up next to your boyfriend the following day had you fancy all the future memories greeting you.

— xiao

it was clear as day that xiao was exceedingly more anxious and nervous than you were.

on top of that he wasn't certain on why he'd become so tense at something so ordinary than sharing a bed with each other.

of course, he wasn't the most experienced in the relationship department, but his mind would still spin uncontrollably within his lost thoughts.

at one particular point xiao's muscles would become so stiff, you'd actually have to ask him again if he was okay with you sleeping over tonight.

to add to his already embarrassing display, he now had to make sure he isn't scaring you off.

"of course you can stay, why wouldn't you?"

coughing right after answering, xiao repeated the same sentence in a much lighter, smoother voice.

"just asking, i want you to be comfortable."

you're certainly no stranger to your boyfriends personality, but unexpectedly to you, he did agree on spending the night together.

you could've bet on it that he would simply switch topics, which of course, wouldn't be a problem either.

"i‘m always comfortable with you by my side."

with someone as xiao, patience was key, you were ready to wait as much as needed for him to warm up to all of this, after all he hadn't encountered relationships like this before, meaning you were his first in many things.

xiao wasn't showing any signs of real emotions anymore, he simply laid flat and waited for you to be done in the bathroom.

you gradually lowered yourself to the snuggly bed afterwards with xiao sharply watching your every move.

from there on, you scooted closer to place your arm on him so he could lay his head on your chest, if he so desired it, you would never force anything on him.

"goodnight xiao, sleep well."

knowing full on well that xiao could become quite embarrassed by you simply looking at him, you closed your tired eyes and appeared to have been dozing off, not fully but almost.

it was then when he slipped himself towards you, closing the gap of your bodies to nuzzle himself in your chest, just a tiny bit, so featherlight he was almost unable to be perceived if it wasn't for his warm breath coating your collarbones.

tired of his own jagged breathing, he bit back his lip to force himself to calm his nerves before letting go of his tender muscles.

as his lips were carefully grazing over your tender skin— not to mention how he thought you were already long sleeping, he added a quick kiss on your collarbone.

you could discern that particular motion of his as a way to show worship and appreciation towards you.

obviously xiao was never full asleep, he honestly couldn't be, even if he tried.

if there was something to happen he had to be full on awake and face the so called enemies and protect you in the process.

but being directly confronted with a newly found emotion like this surely was scary at first, not because he was scared of you, but because he did not encounter a situation like this before.

at one point he debated what was harder to pass, a bloodthirsty fight or this.

yet for you, the fact that he had shown you slight factors of his own vulnerability was surreal, after all, there was nothing better than xiao showing you the undying trust he held towards your person.

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modrntravlr · 5 months

Text

i drew curtains closed - alec hardy

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

cw: vague references to sex (like the vaguest) during literal showering together

summary: When Alec finds out you've been sick after not seeing you for a few days, he takes a step back from work to comfort you and nurse you back to health.

Title from The Great War by Taylor Swift

wc: 3.1K

In all honesty, Alec had been planning on paying a visit to your flat that evening since he woke up that morning. He had spent yet another late night at the station, swearing he was close to a break and would come across something he had missed if he only put in a couple more hours of reviewing the statements he and Miller had taken so far. It was by no means unusual behaviour from him, but since you two had started seeing each other, he tried his best not to go more than a day without taking a break to see you, even if it meant just grabbing a quick lunch together, and if he didn’t get to see you today, it would’ve been his third full day away from you. Just like he did every morning, he sent you a message, this time ending it with the promise of seeing you that evening, even if it meant showing up at your doorstep long after the sun had gone down. He knew it was unfair to you, being put on the back burner simply because he was in the midst of one of his unhealthy work obsessions.

As far as Alec was concerned, the morning passed by as normal as any other morning would. He got ready for work as quickly as his body would allow him to, and set off back to the station, after only a couple hours of sleep, where he met up with Miller and the rest of his team, debriefing them on his findings from the night before and calling out assignments. He and Miller would be out most of the day, poking around every crevice of the small town that they could find, leaving no stone unturned. Also like most mornings, he kept his phone in his coat pocket, never taking it out knowing that any calls or messages from his team would come through Miller. It wasn’t until they finally decided to take a break to grab some lunch that he gave his phone a thought, pulling it out to see if he had received any calls or messages from either you or perhaps Daisy. Like most days, there had been nothing from Daisy–she only seemed to reach out to him when she wanted something, or had gotten into a fight with her mother, pleading for him to side with her and tell Tess that she was being unreasonable, even though she knows he’d never contradict her parenting decisions. Unlike most days, however, there hadn’t been a reply from you to his message that he had sent that morning, nor had there been a missed call or voicemail. Despite being a bit unusual, Alec didn’t give too much thought to it, quickly deciding you must have slept in late and had to rush off to work, or maybe your work day had just been busy, leaving you with no time to check your phone or fashion a response. He returned his phone back to its usual space in his coat after sending another short message letting you know he still had every intention of seeing you that evening.

The afternoon had been just as normal as the morning. Some people from his team had come across a witness that they had initially missed, and they without hesitation went to the station and gave Alec their official statement. With a success like that and eager to see you, he sent his team home early with the promise of a hard day’s work tomorrow before returning to his office to finish up the last of the urgent paperwork regarding the witness statement and tidying his desk. When all work was accounted for and all sensitive documents filed away under lock and key, not to be surveyed until he returned to them in the morning, he left the station. As he got into his car, allowing the engine to warm up and tossing his coat into the passenger seat, he once again pulled out his phone, this time finding a message from Daisy asking if he could please convince Tess to give her permission to go to a concert that weekend with some friends from school, to which he replied he was not in objection to, however her mother, as always, had the final say. To not have heard from you for one morning was one thing, but to not have received a reply well into the afternoon was certainly another, and certainly not something you’d have done under any normal circumstances. Alec would’ve been lying if he had said the first thing that ran through his head wasn’t that you were more upset by his neglect of you over the previous few days than you had let on to, leading you to now ignore him, but the thought left him nearly as fast as it had come. He knew for a fact he was no stranger to bottling up his true feelings, refusing to communicate, but he also knew that you certainly were not the type. The two of you hardly ever had any arguments or miscommunications, but that was all attributed to the fact that you insisted on making your feelings, wants, and needs known, thus forcing him to make an attempt at getting into the habit of doing the same. He was sure that if you truly had been so upset by his absence, you would have told him before it got to the point of feeling the need to ignore him, meaning your silence had to be the result of something being very, very wrong.

He wasted no more time once coming to his conclusion, and drove as fast as the traffic allowed him, not even bothering to stop at his own home first to change clothes into something more casual and comfortable. When he finally arrived, he found your car parked outside in its usual spot, although not unusual for the time of day, as you were usually out of work by this particular time. He jogged up the steps to the front door, knocking, and calling out your name, announcing his arrival, only to receive no response. You’d not yet given him a key to your flat, but the two of you had been seeing each other long enough that he knew where the spare key was hidden, and on many occasions, and with your general consent, he had let himself in while you were both out and at home. He waited a moment before knocking again, and when he was met with silence once more, he decided to retrieve the spare key. Your flat was nearly always tidy, hardly ever a thing out of place, but when he walked in, it seemed eerily even more put together than usual, almost as though not a thing had been touched since the last time he had come over. He called out your name into the silence once more as he began to move around the flat, finding no sign that you had sat on the settee, or turned on the telly, or even grabbed a snack from the kitchen upon arriving home from work. Finally, he worked his way over to the bedroom, where the door was open, but barely a crack, gently pushing the opening wide enough to allow him to look inside, and saying your name, almost whispering. It was finally here that he found you in bed, underneath the covers and fast asleep. He walked in quietly and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching up with his hands to brush the stray hairs away from your face and patting them down into place. You were here, safe in bed, and breathing.

He sat there for a moment, gently caressing the parts of your hair and cheek not being obscured by the blankets that had seemingly been tucked all the way up to your chin, and since shifted upwards. He tried his best not to disturb you, but eventually you began to stir and soon woke up. Not even a little bit startled by his presence, you groggily mumbled something incoherent, leaning into his hand which hadn’t left your face.

“Hello, darling,” he cooed, continuing his movements only now in your hair. He was met with a groan and mumble once again. “Sorry I haven’t been by in a while, but I’m here now,” he finished. Eyes still droopy with sleep, you blankly stared at him through half closed eyelids. His face took on a worried look, and as he was about to ask if you were alright, you suddenly turned over, letting out a dry cough into your pillow, trying to shake it to no avail for much too long for Alec’s taste. He stood up, announcing he would get you a glass of water before leaving the room in a hurry and returning a few moments later, at which point your coughing had stopped. He helped you sit up properly before handing you the glass giving you a moment's silence to drink and recover from the fit. When you were satisfied, you dropped the half-emptied glass down onto the bedside table, hoarsely forcing out a thanks, trying not to trigger another coughing fit.

“Oh, darling, are you feeling alright?” he asked, returning to his previous spot on the bed.

You shook your head no in reply, before beginning to talk again. “I’ve been feeling a bit off the past couple days now, but it was worse this morning when I woke up. I had to call in sick,” you explained with a raspy voice, painful and strained from the sore throat you’d had all day. He reached out with his hand, taking yours as he began to rub circles into the back of it with his thumb. Staring down, and intently at the touch, he frowned, before speaking. “I should’ve been here,” he nearly whispered, voice dripping with sorrow. “There was nothing you could’ve done,” you offered, tightening your own grip on his hand.

He stood up eventually, and after having been informed of your symptoms, made his way towards the bathroom, pulling pill bottles out of the cupboard, as well as refilling the glass of water. A headache, which had been one of the worser symptoms, prompted him to pull the blinds closed, and shut the drapes before switching off the overhead lights, which he had turned on when he first walked into the room. Once the pills had been taken, and you were laying back down under the covers, he made his way back to the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry. He had never really learned how to properly cook, and never really felt the need to, but in that moment, as he realised he would have to make due with a can of soup that required nothing more than being heated on the stove, he wished he had learned, if only to be able to make you a proper one. Leaving the soup to heat up in the kitchen, he returned to the bedroom, and opened up the wardrobe, as quietly as it allowed, so as not to disturb you. He didn’t occupy much space in your flat yet, not that he occupied much space in his own home apart from work related documents and files and evidence, but he did have a small section in your wardrobe that was home to a few changes of clothes, although you left plenty of room for him if he ever wanted to add more to it. He silently slipped out of the suit he had been wearing all day and into his more comfortable clothes before returning to the kitchen to see to the soup.

He prepared a small tray with a bowl of the soup along with some soda crackers he had found while he had been looking through the pantry. Alec Hardy was the last man on Earth who would be caught in bed before the sun went down, but tray in hand, he cautiously slid onto the bed, careful not to spill anything before handing it over to you as he tucked himself under the covers and pressed up against your side, wrapping his arm around you. You ate the soup, grateful that Alec had prepared it for you, as he cooed at you, still apologising for his absence, and promising he’d stay with you through the night, occasionally helping himself to a soda cracker or a spoonful of soup as well. When you’d had enough, he returned the tray back to the kitchen before returning to his own spot in bed, this time with the promise of sleep on both of your minds. It was early in the evening, but he had only slept a couple of hours the previous night, and in all honesty he truly was exhausted after pushing himself to the brink over the past few days. If your body was insistent on getting some more rest, he figured he might as well sleep for a bit as well.

The two of you had lulled into an easy sleep, and awoke a few hours later, the winter sun having already set. The medicine and the soup had eased the symptoms a bit, but you definitely weren’t anywhere near back to normal just yet. Feeling better rested himself, Alec on the other hand was ready to jump back into his work, body and mind already conditioned to run on minimal hours of sleep at a time, but he’d be damned if he left your side anytime before he absolutely had to go into the station to meet his team in the morning. “I feel much better now thanks to the soup, I hadn’t had food in all day,” you whispered, still laying in bed, curled into his chest. “I think I need a shower now though, I didn’t have much energy for that today either and I haven’t had one since I got home from work yesterday,” you continued, making a slight half-hearted effort to move away from him. He stood up then, holding his hand out to you as you soon followed after him. Hand still in his, and with a quizzical look on your face, he led you to the bathroom, letting go of your hand to make his way towards the shower, turning the water on. When he turned back around, he reached for the hem of your shirt, hand resting on it with a questioning look on his face awaiting your approval to continue. When you didn’t protest, he continued, pulling your shirt and remaining clothes off of you, with gentleness and care before repeating his ministrations on himself.

Fully undressed and under the warm spray of the water, Alec, considerate as ever, massaged your scalp, working your scented shampoo through the roots of your hair as you relaxed into the heat radiating through the room from the hot water. When your hair was clean and the water had washed away the shampoo, he took to a washcloth, rubbing slow and gentle circles over your skin. Alec wasn’t a greedy man, you had learned early in the relationship. He loved and appreciated every inch of you, worshipping it when given the opportunity to, but in moments like these, any lingering touches his hands may have made left behind only warmth and comfort, never once begging for something more, something you probably couldn’t and wouldn’t give him in your ill state, something he would never dare ask or expect you to give him in it. When he had finished working his way down your body, and as the warm water was beginning to turn cold, he gave you a moment more under the water to rinse away the remaining soap before quickly and carelessly cleaning himself off. Unlike you, he had showered that morning before returning back to the station, but he had no interest in taking a moment to relax into the warmth. He did what he had to do to be decent and presentably clean, but he took it no further than that apart from the times when in health, you had been the one to coax him into a shower or bath, taking time to thoroughly massage the knots out of his muscles and work over-priced, fragranced soaps into his hair and skin that he otherwise would have never thought to use himself.

When he finished cleaning himself, he shut off the water, quickly reaching for your bath towel and wrapping it around your dripping frame, hoping to shield your skin from the cold air before reaching for a towel of his own to wrap around his waist. He abandoned his focus on his own towel soon after, instead focusing on drying you off first, patting away the remaining water still dripping from your hair and down your skin. Not until you were both content did he hastily repeat his actions on his own body, eventually leading you back out to the bedroom, sitting you down at the foot of the bed. For the second time that evening, he made his way over to your wardrobe, this time pulling out a set of clothes from your own section and passing them over to you, allowing you to dress yourself while he did the same for himself. He returned to the bathroom, hanging the towels to dry and grabbing your hairbrush off the counter before once again going back into the bedroom joining you on the bed. Brush in hand, he beckoned you over to him, and you allowed him to settle you in front of himself, back towards him before he slowly and gently began to work the brush through your hair, beginning at the ends before making his way up to the roots. You hummed and sighed in content, sinus now feeling much more clear after the hot shower. When he was happy with his work, he placed the hair brush down onto the bed side table, moving back to lean against the head of the bed, pulling you along with him. Adjusting both you and himself, he pulled the covers up around the two of you as he held you against him, half clinging to his side and half on top of him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into his embrace, burying yourself into him.

“For what?”

“Taking care of me,” you replied. He didn’t reply, choosing instead to plant a kiss into your hair.

#—︎ my posts ☕️#fanfic #alec hardy #alec hardy x reader #broadchurch #david tennant

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florencemtrash · 8 months

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Hummingbird: Chapter Five

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Warnings: Violence and injuries

You blinked back into your apartment at the end of your nightly patrol, swearing out loud as you began the arduous process of peeling your suit off your sweaty body. Bruises in all stages of healing littered your body like a Pollock painting - purple, blue, yellow, and pink marks spreading up and down your skin like they were living creatures.

You sighed in front of the bathroom mirror, waiting for the shower water to heat up enough to loosen your tight muscles, and twisted your body, looking and pulling at the marred skin.

Miguel wouldn’t be too happy about this… not that he would ever have a reason to look at you naked. The thought alone made you blush furiously.

Miles had been away touring colleges across the Northeast and left you with the task of managing his Spider-duties. It hadn’t been so terrible the first two nights - the minor criminals of New York City were hardly prepared to handle anyone with your powers (like the armed robber who was shocked beyond measure to find his gun had disappeared from his hand). The following nights not so much. Word had gone around that Spider-Man was MIA and criminals minor and major jumped at the chance to unleash their plans. Coffee and spite fueled you through the following week, but there was only so much coffee you could consume in a day after averaging 2 hours of sleep a night.

You would have asked Miguel and the others for help, but there was a strict no interference policy when it came to non-anomalies. Sure, Miguel would have bent the rules for you, but it wasn’t anything you felt comfortable with. Everyone knew he treated you with a special care that sometimes warmed your heart and sometimes set you on edge - always visiting you in the med bay for the most minor of injuries, finding some excuse to track you down in Spidey HQ when you visited, and even going so far as to ask the cooks to add a special edition item onto the regular menu after you’d gushed about it to him at lunch (Peter was the one to tell you).

It also didn’t escape your notice that he kept you from the most dangerous missions, or waited until the last second to call you in for help.

Terco idiota.

You groaned when you stepped into the steaming shower, grateful for the hot water that ran rivers down your back and swept away the exhaustion the night had brought. When you were finally clean and comfortable in your pajamas you sank onto the floor in your living room, pulling the battered and familiar sketchbook forward on the coffee table. One of the many benefits to being an honorary Spider-Person was that the physical exhaustion of superhero duties helped quiet your mind enough to consistently finish your art projects. And every alternate dimension you visited opened up a whole new world of creative possibilities - quite literally. Still… you’d caught yourself drawing the same thing (or rather person) over and over again recently.

You worked for a couple of hours, one ear honed in on the stolen police radio propped up on your tv stand alongside your suit. Mercifully, even criminals needed sleep and you drew uninterrupted until the first rays of dawn started to spill over New York, skyscrapers casting long spindly shadows over the grid.

When morning came you finally dragged yourself into bed for a few hours of blissful sleep leaving behind the soft images of Miguel littered on the coffee table. One day he’d just entered your life and never left, slowly invading every corner of your mind until a week without him felt like a shoe that didn’t fit.

Miguel’s eyes flickered over to you when you blinked into existence beside him, empanada in one hand and a water bottle in the other. His heartbeat picked up, then slowed down, relaxing into the newer, steadier pace of life that you brought him.

“¡Buenos díaaaaaas!” You said in a sleepy singsong voice, dropping the empanada into his lap and jumping on the desk. It wasn’t uncommon for you to stop by his office and make sure he was eating regular meals, although sometimes you would just blink food onto his desk with a post-it note affectionately commanding “Come, pendejo” whenever you visited Spidey-HQ.

“You look tired.” Miguel said, smiling softly as you took your usual spot. He allowed himself to sink into his chair, gazing at you with a love neither of you had the courage to talk about yet.

“So do you.”

“Yes, but I always look tired.” He said with a slight quirk of his lips. You made a little hmmmph sound in agreement, taking a deep sip of your drink.

“Miles is away so I’ve taken on his patrol shifts. I don’t know how you Spider-people manage to do this AND still have full time jobs. I feel like I’m barely keeping up.”

Miguel perked up. You hadn’t told him that you were expanding your superhero duties in Miles’s absence.

“When will he be back?” His eyes focused on you, taking in the faint bags beneath your eyes and the droop of your shoulders with concern. He stood up and moved closer to you, leaning down on arms that bracketed your crossed legs. The smell of coffee and cream was bitter and sweet in the space between you, mixing with Miguel’s own spiced cologne. It warmed you up from the inside out until you wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in his arms.

“Next Sunday.” You groaned and settled for leaning your forehead on his shoulder as you tried to ignore the pounding of your heart, “It’s probably a good thing. If he ends up leaving New York for school, I’ll have to pick up his duties.”

The stolen look of adoration he gave you was replaced by one of confusion and surprise. He’d forgotten that Miles would be graduating next year and going to college.

A New York City without Spider-Man seemed so… wrong. Across countless universes it was always New York City, or some version of it, and Spider-Man. NYC and Spider-Man, Spider-Man and NYC.

You sat patiently, waiting for Miguel to shuffle through his thoughts like he always did, carefully organizing them with the precision and practice of a scientist.

“I could… I could help out if you ever needed it.” He murmured softly, leaning into you and finding comfort in your closeness.

You jerked up so quickly you nearly smacked into his nose, “Did I just hear the Miguel O’Hara suggest breaking protocol?” You teased, poking at his firm chest.

“Well, I-” Miguel lost his words and his cool, color faintly brushing against the tan of his cheeks. He liked having you sit so close to him, no trace of wariness in sight. In the months you’d gotten to know and work with one another you’d learned to grow around each other as tightly as two plants climbing a garden trellis until he didn’t know where he started and you ended.

Memories, painful and sharp, slammed into him - the last kiss he’d given his wife before he ruined everything. The look of terror on Gabriella’s face before she splintered into nothing. And here he was again, jumping at the chance for a future with someone he didn’t deserve. Had he learned nothing after losing everything?

“No,” He shook his head, “You’re right. It was a stupid idea.” He said stoically and stepped away.

“Hey,” You whispered, grabbing his hands when he pulled back. He was entering that dark place again. He hardly talked about his old life except as a warning to Spider-Society members. He believed he was a walking, talking cautionary tale - nothing more than a sense of duty kept him from spiraling down into a sea of terrible memories that would tear him apart.

“It wasn’t stupid. It just means you care.” You said, and felt some relief when Miguel squeezed your hand back, “I can handle it, Miguel. I promise. You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.”

Miguel’s breath caught in his throat. He knew you meant it jokingly but the words still hit a sore spot.

He didn’t want you to go. If he had control over the powers that governed the multiverse he would ask that you stay with him here forever. He would court you properly instead of dancing around the issue of your growing feelings for one another. He would hug you and kiss you and ask you to spend the nights with him…

Al carajo. He swore and gave into one of his safer desires.

Without warning he closed the distance between you two, slipping into the space between your legs and pulling you against his chest in a bone crushing hug. It was the most contact you’d had with each other since the collider explosion. You melted into his touch, gripping him almost as tightly and getting lost in the smell of coffee and cinnamon.

“I’d like to have you around if that’s alright.” He said softly into the crown of your hair.

You smiled, “Yeah. That’s alright with me.”

“Hey Miss Y/n?” You jolted awake at your desk where you’d drifted off during free period.

Miles smiled apologetically from the door with Gwen at his back who waved and grinned at you.

Oh thank god he was back. You thought to yourself, running a hand through your hair to fix it.

“You know you’re allowed to call me by my first name, right?” You said with a stretch of your back - the sound mimicked a glow stick so much you were surprised you didn’t begin to shine with neon light.

“Yeah, but it’s weird to call an old person by their first name.”

Gwen smirked at Miles as he dropped his bag off at an empty desk.

“Old?!” You said incredulously, “Miles, how old do you think I am?”

He froze like a cat that had just knocked over a glass cup, “Uh…….”

“Oh this should be good,” Gwen quipped, sinking into a chair and propping her feet up on the back of Miles’s chair.

“I-I mean,” Miles stuttered, “Like forty-”

“FORTY?!”

“Thir-Thirty-Thirty-three?” He stumbled over his words, heat rising into his cheeks and coloring them a deep plum.

“I’m twenty-eight!” You said, throwing your hands up dramatically.

“Whoops.” Gwen chuckled. You tipped your head back and laughed, momentarily forgetting the last two weeks of crime-fighting exhaustion.

“How were the college tours? I want to hear everything. Was Princeton all you hoped for?” You leaned forward in your seat, propping your chin up on woven fingers.

“Princeton was fantastic!” Miles said, dragging his chair over to sit closer to your desk, much to Gwen’s chagrin as she lost her footrest, “It looks like something out of a Harry Potter movie. And their engineering building was just-” Miles continued to gush over the schools he’d seen, pulling up photos on his phone of Princeton, Harvard, Columbia, Brown, URI, BU, Northeastern, and a slew of others.

You hung onto his every word, his excitement so infectious that even Gwen abandoned her spot to share Miles’s seat and hear the stories she’d no doubt heard before.

“I loved Berklee,” Gwen jumped in, pointing out a photo of her and Miles smiling in front of their admissions building.

You tilted your head to the side, “You visited colleges in this universe?”

She blushed, “Miles’s parents let me tag along for part of the trip so I had to pretend like I was looking at colleges myself.”

“That makes sense.” You said, noting their closeness and the stolen glances they shared when they thought you weren’t paying attention. “Well, I’m glad the trip was a success!”

“I actually wanted to ask you something, Miss Y/n.” Miles said nervously, straightening up in his chair, “Would you be willing to write me a recommendation letter? I know you’re busy and all but-”

“Say less!” You said with a glowing smile.

“Really?!” He brightened up.

“Of course! Who else would be better suited to the task than me?! I mean, probably someone with more writing experience, but I would be happy to do it.”

“Thank you so much!” He quickly pulled out a resume from his backpack and a list of schools he was planning to apply to, sliding them across the desk with relief now that the anxiety of asking had fallen off his shoulders.

The three of you dove into a conversation about college (you had MUCH wisdom to bestow upon them… art college had taught you many lessons), Spider-duties, and life in general. At the close of the school day, Gwen followed you home, a regular occurrence after you’d offered up your apartment for her to crash in whenever she visited your dimension. She always had a change of clothes folded in your dresser and a toothbrush in your bathroom.

You groaned when you were shaken awake from a deep sleep. Gwen hung upside down from your ceiling already in her spider-suit, pink-tipped hair tickling your nose.

“What-what the- JODER!” you shouted, blinking off the bed and landing on the floor with a groan. There were still moments where you didn’t have complete control over your powers. “¡Carajo!” You hissed in pain and picked yourself off the floor, “Gwen, what the hell?”

“Anomaly in Times Square. Miles is already there and needs backup.”

Shit shit shit. You slapped yourself awake and scrambled to grab your newly mended suit from the closet.

“What are we dealing with?” You shouted as you ran out of your bedroom, slapping on your watch and hearing Miles’s voice ring out from it.

“Dude’s sparkling like a firecracker on Chinese New Years!” His panicked cries rang out, “He’s going after-” Miles’s voice cut out after a strike in the chest fried his watch.

From your apartment window you could see the lights of the New York skyline flicker and crackle like tv static.

“You ready, Gwen?” You asked, holding out a hand.

Gwen ignored the hand and jumped onto your back, wrapping her lean arms around you for dear life, “Oh god I hate this so much.” She said, squeezing her eyes as you teleported them all the way to Times Square.

It was always harder blinking with a passenger in tow. The collider explosion had changed you on a molecular level in such a way that blinking through space felt as natural as passing through a doorway… for others not so much. Traveling across New York City with Gwen felt like dragging a thick strand of yarn through a tiny needle.

Bright lights exploded out of billboard signs, cascading over you in a burning rain of color. You threw an arm around Gwen as she reoriented herself, pushing her down behind a flipped cop car as a bolt of electricity sailed past your ear crackling with heat and energy.

“You don’t remember me do you, Spider-Man? Not important enough for you?” A voice boomed out, tinged with the power you felt during thunderstorms.

“For the third time, I have literally never met you in my entire life!”

“You’ll remember me. They’ll ALL remember me when I’ve taken everything from them.”

“Shit.” You and Gwen said in unison before leaping into the fray.

You made quick work blinking the few people who remained huddled in buildings and under rubble to safety a block away.

“Sorry, sorry. Sorry!” You apologized as people dropped to the floor after being blinked, unused to the feeling of teleportation.

The lights blinded you constantly, blue electricity zipping across the ground like animals on the hunt. You teleported across Times Square, narrowly dodging lightning strikes that raised the hair on your head and arms and teleporting buses, cars, and concrete over the man’s head. He kept up with your attacks, jumping to safety or simply blowing the vehicles up with his power.

Maybe this was what having a Spidey-sense is like? You thought to yourself as you knocked Miles out of the way of a well aimed strike, using the taste of metal in the air as a sign that he was powering up.

A bolt caught you in the chest, sending you crackling through the air. You landed in a smoking heap by the gutter, groaning as your watch smarted and burned on your wrist. You wrenched it off with pain shooting up the side of your ribs.

So much for calling for backup. You swore inwardly as Gwen cried out, tossing her own smoking watch onto the ground as she picked her way out of the rubble of broken billboard screens. There would be no calling Miguel until this was over and done with… if you ever got a chance to call him. The safety net you’d always had fell away from your feet, leaving you buzzing with anxiety.

“Throw the cage!” You screamed at Gwen. She jumped and arched through the air, throwing a device no larger than a coin and watching it stick to the ground beneath the man’s feet.

He thrummed with the energy of New York City’s power grid, drinking it in through his skin like a sponge. The shield sprang to life, closing in on him with precision and accuracy. You let yourself breathe a sigh of relief as he quietly looked at his new cage. The high strung buzz of power in the air dissipated, no longer called to him from behind the holographic barriers.

The man quietly pulled off his hood, revealing blue skin cracked with the movement of electricity shooting through his veins like blood.

“Wait, NO!” Miles shouted, “It’s not going to work!”

“You really think this can hold me?” He grinned, white eyes haunting, “Think again.”

He pressed the palms of his hands against the barrier and you all watched in horror as it blew apart in his hands.

“SHIT!” Miles yelled, throwing his hands up to block the light that exploded outward.

You ducked down behind an overturned bus, feeling the sharp pricks of debris falling down on your back and singeing the fabric.

Times Square was once again alight with electricity and light, and the electric man stood at the center of it all, drawing in power and watching with delight as block after block of neighborhoods went pitch black. Helicopters flew overhead, spotlights zigzagging over the ground. You watched, powerless as he aimed one finger at a helicopter and shot it down to the ground. Miles and Gwen lept into action, working in tandem to weave a net strong enough to catch it as you continued to distract the villain. But you were slowing down, exhaustion creeping into your bones.

Another shot to the shoulder slammed you into a brick wall, body flickering in and out of existence as you struggled to blink yourself away. You fell to the ground in a crumple of limbs.

A boot pressed down between your shoulder blades, heavy and bruising. You screamed when a burning hand grabbed you by the back of your suit and hoisted you into the air. Blue eyes, cold and unfeeling bore into your own.

“You didn’t need to get involved.” He said, his hands beginning to light up dangerously. “I’m sorry this has to happen. But you’re not going to stop me. No one is going to stop me.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” You said through gritted teeth.

Every dimension was different and every dimension left its mark on its inhabitants like a key to a home or a postal code. It was how the Go Home Machine was able to send people back where they belonged.

“You think you could ever do that?... I think you could.” Hobie had said about the Go Home Machine. You’d scoffed and brushed it off at the time but… there was no time like the present.

You squeezed your eyes shut and grabbed a hold of his arm.

You drew on every inch of your power, searching throughout the multiverse for something that felt like home to this person until…

You got a match.

“What-what are you doing? WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You opened your eyes and gasped. The man’s body was slowly breaking apart like the static on old distorted TVs. He tried to get away from you, struggling against your iron grip as you held on for dear life, pouring your power into the action of forcing an unwilling person across the multiverse.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Dimension.” You growled, finding yourself back on solid ground as his legs went, then his lower torso. His face and arm were the last to go, mouth frozen in a silent scream, leaving you clutching empty air.

Miles and Gwen gawked at you from twenty feet away as the lights of the city slowly shuddered back to life, a stillness and unnatural quiet falling down on the city that never sleeps.

Your knees buckled beneath you and they shouted your name.

The last thing you saw were the blurry outlines of Miles and Gwen running towards you before your head hit the ground and the world went black.

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

_________

Author's note: Annnnnnnd here's Chapter Five! Thank you all for reading and sticking with me and my chaotic posting schedule. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @geraskier-thots @howabouticallyou @sweetheartlizzie07 @dont-mind-me27 @omg-edzia-stuff @sarcastically-defensive17 @trouble-sistar @saltyluminaryvoid @lunablue001 @sadslasher13 @yas-v @thel0v3hashira143 @trishuh8 @vague-flying-shape @tiana76 @dinuxia-bhm @mxtokko @devilsrose666@natbratty @zettoaizawa-shusband @dorck26 @notasadgirlipromise @niyanispunk @thecraziestcrayon @athenxt @imnotyourbcbe @jannajuju @lunamoonbby @elle-19 @aces148 @sseleniaa @elaineiswithyou-blog @summerli-u @rattlethemskulls @sunseekerlove @bubbabobabubbles @loonalockley @aleombre @littlelilies@07-bilin @nerdalicios @insanely-creative-things @enby-rising @nataliahemsworth @coralineyouareinterribledanger @louderfortheback @damnzelsoul @enheduannasposts @bontensbabygirl @mynameiswilliamblake

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x wife reader #miles morales #gwen stacy #peter b parker #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel o'hara x you #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse

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honeybeefae · 11 months

Note

oooo forbidden love with eris or azriel? maybe even a triangle 👀

Out of the Woods (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

BINGO: FORBIDDEN LOVE

(I ended up going with Eris bc this idea literally is so much fun plus I’ve got so many Azriel requests! This request didn’t specify if it was NSFW or SFW so I just went for SFW! This literally came to life as I was writing it and I want to continue it SO bad so pls let me know if you guys would be interested lmao)

WARNINGS: Fighting, talks of death, a little gore in terms of blood

You had been coming to these woods ever since you had first seen him chasing after your assailants. What he was doing in the mortal realm you didn’t know nor care but you were grateful he was there that day. He had seen them drag you into the woods, ready to do unspeakable things, until each one of them suddenly burst into flames redder than you had ever seen.

One by one they dropped dead and you stood there, terrified, as the red hair fae emerged from the shadows. He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen and while you should have run or screamed or even fought, you just gazed at him.

He stopped a few feet away from you, his amber eyes focused on your breathing as you opened your mouth and whispered, “Thank you.”

It was the last thing he had expected you to say and it took him a minute to recover, a small smile turning his lips despite the image he was trying to portray. You drew in a sharp breath when he stepped into your personal space, bending down until he was at eye level.

“Run.”

The single word made your heart jump and instinct took over, breaking you from the spell as you turned on your heel and ran back to your village. You kept glancing over your shoulder, making sure he wasn’t following and didn’t stop until you were in your bedroom with the door closed. It felt like your heart was about to burst from your chest as you scurried under the covers like a child.

As the adrenaline wore off and the night grew darker you started to drift off to sleep despite yourself, your eyes slowly closing until you dreamed about the man in the forest. You could’ve sworn you felt something touch your cheek that night, the smell of embers and pine wrapping around you like a blanket.

—--------------------

You didn’t go into the forest for several days, feigning sickness or pain whenever your father would ask you to go forage before the winter. The excuses worked for a while until he put his foot down, yelling at you that you needed to go out or risk starvation.

This time you wore a cloak and had a dagger sheathed in your belt, the empty basket swaying from side to side as you went to the small berry patch close to the thickets and river. You felt tense the entire time, constantly looking over your shoulder, and just as you felt you could relax as you stood you felt eyes on you.

He was staring at you from the other side of the river, taking in your shocked expression before vanishing into thin air. You didn’t stick around to see where he went, turning to run back home only to smack into something solid.

Not something…someone.

“What are you doing in the forest again by yourself?” The man asked, his voice low as he captured your wrist in his hand when you tried to run. “I thought I told you to run.”

Your mouth was dry as you opened and closed it, your pulse fluttering under his fingertips as you struggled briefly to break away. His touch was warm, warmer than the average human, and it made your skin tingle in a weird way.

“Answer me, human.” He sneered, lacking the patience that a man his age probably should have. You knew the fae were practically immortal and given how he looked a few years older than you, he had to have been around for a while.

“I-I had to come to get food for my family.” You stutter, clearing your throat from how hoarse it sounded. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be asking those questions.” He responded while glancing at your wrist in his hand. “This forest is too dangerous for someone like you to be in. There are wolves and foxes and evil men waiting to snatch you up.”

“Lucky you killed one of those three for me then, isn’t it?” You said boldly, your eyes widening when you realized you hadn’t filtered that thought from coming out of your mouth. Immediately your cheeks heated and you looked away, pulling once more.

He let you go, smirking when you stumbled back and fell on your ass. You scurried back a few paces when he crouched down to watch you more closely.

“Don’t come into these woods again, do you understand? It is not safe and I’m not going to go out of my way to save you.” He stated, offering his hand for you to take. You glanced at it and then his face, your eyes narrowing in suspicion before he grew tired of your antics and pulled you up himself.

He looked you over one more time, catching the dagger on your hips as it caught the afternoon sun. “And make sure you know how to use that or you might as well beat someone off with a stick.”

As he turned to go back from wherever he came from you found yourself calling for him, voice tight as you asked, “What is your name?”

The fae man stopped but didn’t turn around, debating on what he should say before he turned his head to the left slightly. You could make out his profile, the bridge of his nose, and his pointed ear as he said, “Eris.”

You watched as he disappeared once again, your heart thrumming as you stood there for a moment digesting what had just happened. Eris. His name was Eris. The name sounded weird in your head and yet it was all you could think about on your walk home, testing it on your tongue until you arrived at your doorstep.

Night quickly fell as you washed the fruit and finished your daily chores, bidding your family goodnight and making your way back to your bed. The smell from your dreams was still present, especially by your bed, and you fell asleep once more to the face of the fae, of Eris.

Only this time you dreamt of him in a forest of red and yellow.

—--------------------------

The next time you went into the woods was when your village was under attack by the soldiers of Hybern. They were ransacking every home, every family, and taking whatever they wanted. You had heard the screams of women, men, and children as great fires suddenly lit up the sky.

Your family was trying to gather their most precious belongings but by the time they were ready to run it was too late. Three large men burst inside, their entire aura reeking of evil as they took in your small abode. Without warning you saw your father grab his sword off the wall and hurl it at the tallest soldier blocking the door, watching as it sank into his arm.

He let out a roar of rage and your father screamed at you all to run, his stance brave. You and your mother and brother took the opportunity and sprinted out into the street, feeling the other soldiers hot on your heels. You decided to turn the opposite way and head towards the forest, your head screaming at you as both men followed you.

You were breathing hard as you tried your best to see in the dark, crying out as branches and thorns scraped across your skin. Blood was running down your arms by the time you got to the river and when you turned to look behind you, you realized they were no longer there.

Badum. Badum. Badum.

Seconds were passing by agonizingly slow as you waited with bated breath, sweat making your skin sticky as your head whipped around furiously for any sign of them. A twig snapped behind you and you didn’t have time to brace yourself as a heavy body slammed into you, knocking you onto the forest floor and stealing the very breath from your lungs.

“Stupid bitch thinks she can outrun us.” The soldier laughed, pinning your arms above your head as he glared at you with hatred. “Let’s see how far you can run when I’ve got my c-”

Before he can finish the sentence a ring of fire wraps around his throat and squeezes until his head is severed from his body. Warm blood covers your nightgown as you stare in terror, your vocal cords unable to move as the other Hybern soldier meets the same fate.

Soft footsteps head in your direction and you close your eyes tightly, not wanting to see whoever was going to kill you until you felt the familiar tingle of Eris’s hands wrapping around your body. He lifts you into his arms without a word and looks around, making sure no one is left before vanishing with you held tightly against him.

You felt like you were falling as he appeared in front of a cabin, a small candle lit in the window as he walked through the front door and shut it behind him. He wordlessly walked over to the bathroom and turned on the tap, setting you gingerly on the floor.

He tested the water with his rest and when satisfied, poured some soap into it until bubbles started to appear. You had your knees drawn up to your chest, watching him while he strode over to you and picked you up again. Eris made easy work of your nightgown, ripping it down the middle with just a few fingers and putting you into the water.

Both of your hands came up to cover your chest as he submerged you in warmth, looking at your nightgown with disgust before burning it in his grasp. You blinked rapidly, watching the ash fall to the floor, before turning your eyes to his.

“You came for me.” You whispered hoarsely. “You killed those men…for me.”

“I told you to stay out of the forest.” He snapped, a deep frown settled on his face. “I told you the dangers but you didn’t listen, you refused to listen. Do you know what could have happened to you if I wasn’t there?”

You did know. You wouldn’t be here with a strange fae man named Eris. You wouldn’t be in a warm bath in a grand cabin. You would probably be dead, along with the rest of your family and your village.

The thought of your family had tears falling down your cheeks and into the bath, tiny ripples disturbing the water under the bubbles. You hoped they had escaped, found somewhere to hide, and your father…

A soft sob had your shoulders shaking as you turned your back to Eris, bringing your knees in once more and resting your face between them. Everything you knew, everyone you knew, it was all up in flames. Literally.

Minutes passed by without a word spoken and you had thought he had left you alone until you heard him shuffle behind you and sigh. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It’s not what you need right now. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Why do you care so much?” You mumbled, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You barely know me. You’re a fae, I’m a human. What game are you playing here?”

“I’m not playing a game.” Eris defended, watching as you angle your head to look at him. “I swear.”

“Then why save me? Why bring me here? I thought you hated our kind.” You were misdirecting your anger at the man who saved your life but you couldn’t help it, you wanted something to make sense in your life. “Am I a servant to you? Are you going to keep me trapped here for the rest of my life?”

“If I wanted a servant I could have easily found anyone so watch your tone.” Eris suddenly stood, his eyes hot with anger. “Is this how you are thanking me for saving your life? By questioning my decisions? Would you rather I take you back to those terrible men, to that terrible life?”

“I just want an answer!” You scream back, standing up and staring him down. You didn’t care that you were naked, you didn’t care that this man could kill you with a snap of his fingers. He owed you a damn explanation. “Just tell me why!”

Eris’s jaw twitched while his nostrils flared, his fists curling at his side briefly before relaxing. He took a deep breath and turned around and grabbed a towel, tossing it in your direction.

“I don’t have to explain myself to a human.” He said, pausing in the doorframe. “Dry off, get dressed, and come out here when you’re done.”

He shut the door before you could respond but you still let out a scream of frustration, stomping your foot like a child as you gripped the towel firmly. You stared at where he had just been, willing him to come back, before letting your shoulders sag in defeat.

Whatever he was going to do, whatever compelled him to save you, you obviously weren’t going to find out tonight. This communication between the two of you shouldn’t have even started in the first place, it was forbidden and yet here you were.

Stuck in a cabin with Eris…your new home for the time being.

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quillsareswords · 1 year

Text

Soft as Snow

DAMIAN WAYNE X READER

SUMMARY: You and Damian finally get to enjoy a Chistmas in your new home.

A/N: Merry late Christmas and happy holidays! I meant to do a writing week along side this, but things got kind of crazy. This was actually part of a Secret Santa I participated in with some other writers here on Tumblr! I drew @unmotivatedwrit3r! Hope you like it bb :)

Other participants: @citrinesparkles @birdy-bat-writes @glorified-red

WARNINGS: language

MASTER LIST in BIO

DECEMBER 5TH

He hadn't expected you home until this evening, but your shoes are sitting beside the landing table, beneath the coat hooks, when he gets home. "Beloved?" he calls, hanging his peacoat beside yours.

"Kitchen!"

He follows the sound of your voice down the entry hall. He habitually glances into the living room on his way past. Your canvas shopping totes are set on the coffee table, shades of red and green peeking out from inside. He recalls you commenting this morning that you'd stop for groceries on your way home. He should've expected this.

You're standing in front of the coffee machine when he rounds the doorway. In front of you, stacks of mugs. You smile brightly at him. "Hey! You're home early."

He peers into the cupboard as he sidles up beside you. You've pulled every mug from the shelves; all shapes and sizes spread and stacked between the wall and the edge of the counter. He hadn't realized there were so many. "So are you."

You shrug, setting the last of them—a white mug with some vulgar phrase written in cursive—among the rest. "I finished up sooner than I thought, so I got groceries."

He snakes an arm around your waist, rolls his eyes knowingly. "Let me guess: you went to get groceries, but got distracted and walked away with a new collection of trinkets."

A wry smile. You reach into the closest bag. A red, green, and white monstrosity spotted in flat black deer outlines. "Christmas mugs don't count as trinkets. Obviously."

He hums mocking agreeance. "Right. Of course not, dearest." He glances over his shoulder for emphasis, "I assume those are also definitely not trinkets?"

You smile brightly. "Nope. They're Christmas decorations. Definitely essential."

DECEMBER 11TH

He tries so hard not to wake you. You'd been busy all day, then gone to bed late because you wanted to see him off for his nightly patrol. You idiot.

It's not like he doesn't appreciate it. His night always starts off on the wrong foot when he doesn't get a kiss from you beforehand. (It's just bad luck, at this point.) Even so, it's not a good enough reason for you to stay up.

He won't argue about it again. He won the argument about you waiting up for him to get back; he doesn't like his odds for getting you to bed at a decent time.

He sneaks around the house carefully, guided only by the light of the Christmas tree and the night lights always glowing in the hallways. He pins his arm to his chest and swerves through the living room, the kitchen. If not getting blood on your carpet was a sport, he'd win the Olympics. Between you and Alfred, he's pretty sure he could get stabbed and leave no evidence in an entirely white room.

Luckily, it's only a few minor cuts that are dribbling crimson through his suit. All he needs is a few butterfly stitches and some bandage for the worse graze on his forearm.

Unluckily, he realizes a little too late that the First-Aid kit in the kitchen has not yet been restocked. Which means the only fully stocked kit is the big one…in the master bathroom. The one on the other side of his bed. Your bed. Where you're sleeping. Damn it.

He's a professionally trained assassin. He's a goddamn ninja, literally. He can sneak up on any person, into any building. You have no formal training. He once witnessed you sleep through an actual earthquake. Somehow, he always wakes you up.

Not this time. This time, he will not wake you up.

The Christmas lights wound around your potted plants light his way. He picks across the bedroom, around a pile of the day's clothes, across the rug. He steps over a stray Amazon box. Reminds himself to pick it up later. He's four feet from the door. Victory is close at hand.

"Damian?"

You're joking. When he turns, you're propping yourself up in bed, scrubbing sleep out of your eye. How! He didn't make a single sound!

"You gonna take that off before bed, or..?"

He sighs, tiredly. "I'm not going to bed yet. Go back to sleep, I won't be long." He whispers, still steps lightly, even if there's no point. He steps close, rests the rough palm of his glove on your cheek, and presses his lips against your temple. "I promise. Go to sleep."

You hum, still half asleep. "What're you doin'?" You reach up absently, always wanting touch, always seeking him out. Your fingers brush up his arm, and then, wide awake– "You're bleeding. Why are you bleeding?"

He shakes his head, smoothing a thumb along your cheekbone. "It's only a cut. Nothing to worry about."

Of course, you won't accept this as an answer. He can't convince you to get back into bed once you clamber out from under the blankets, so he follows you into the bathroom and sits on the edge of the bathtub.

You only use the light over sink, leaving the room just light enough to see. The dim lighting echoes the early hours somehow. Neither of you say much, directions aside. It'stoo early for much conversation. You smooth white straps over the minor cuts, a patch on a scrape up his cheek, carefully wind the gause around his arm.

When he's no longer dripping blood on the tile, you go and get a clean set of pajamas while he peels off the uniform and dumps it into the tub. Then, you both shuffle back to the warmth of the bed like moths to flame.

Despite the bandage, his arm is still a comfort when wrapped around you.

DECEMBER 14TH

"What are you…doing?"

He looks up from his hands, eyes wide, confused. "I'm– I'm wrapping gifts?"

You cock your head to one side. You squint. "Oh. That's a box?"

He blinks once. Twice. "Of course it's a box. What are you talking about?"

Your face twists like you're not sure if you should laugh or not. "Baby. Look at it."

He looks back down at the bundle of scotch tape and green wrapping paper. Sure, it doesn't follow every crisp line, and some of those straps of tape are way too long, and when did that corner get torn off? Oh, it's stuck to that piece of tape. Or is that a different corner?

"Have you ever wrapped a gift before?" You ask slowly, tentatively. You only now realize that maybe you really shouldn't be laughing, if he's never wrapped a present before. He'll take it mockingly, answer defensively, close himself off to save himself the embarrassment.

His nostrils flare as he stares down at it. "No," he says pointedly. "I don't usually have the time. Pennyworth wrapped them. If I did have time, I used a gift bag."

You nod, sly little smile working its way across your face. "Makes sense. Is that why everything you give me is small?"

He blows out a surprised noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. He finally looks up at you again. "You've never complained before. We both know I'm awfully skilled with all sorts of things; the size never matters."

You roll your eyes. "Oh, sure. Do you want me to show you how to wrap it or not?"

He chuckles, steps aside, gestures that he's made room for you.

You step in beside him, in front of the dining room table. In typical Damian Wayne fashion, the workspace is perfectly organized; scissors and tape set neatly on your right, a roll of shiny green wrapping paper on your left, the lumpy mystery package in the middle.

He lays one hand on the table beside the scissors, leans on it, and props his other hand on his hip. "Please, show me the magical ways of gift wrapping."

So, you do. You carefully salvage what you can, flatten it, trim it, tape it down. You smooth the edges crisp around the Amazon box. You explain it as you go, even though you know he could watch you do it once and copy it step for step.

He watches you closely. First, your hands. He really did want you to teach him how you get the gifts under the tree to look so nice. But, he's a weak man at heart when anything concerns you. You always get this look on your face when you're working with your hands. It appears when you fold laundry and wash dishes, too. He catches himself looking at you instead of your instructions.

DECEMBER 20TH

"That is definitely my sweater."

"No, it isn't." You have a really bad poker face. Your eyes sparkle too much.

He crosses his arms, mindful of the cut, still tender on the outside of his arm. "I bought that last year. At your suggestion, if memory serves."

"I don't know what you're talking about." You upend the hot paper bag in your hand, spilling popcorn into a festive plastic bowl. "This was in my closet."

"We share a closet."

You wave your hand dismissively. "Potato, pa-tot-oh." You sprinkle on some salt and hold the bowl out for him.

He takes it in one hand and waits for the next item. "I don't mind. You know I don't. I do wish you would admit that it's mine."

You scoff, dumping a box of holiday chocolates into a matching bowl. "Why on earth would I do that?"

He doesn't answer right away, waits until you glance over at him. "Because I like it when you wear my clothes."

Your facade washes away under the tides of a grin you can't contain. You turn away instead, pretending to put all your focus on the candy bowl.

He and his stupid sweet face. He shouldn't be allowed to wear sweaters or smile like that. He smiles at you all the time, much to your joy, but every once in a great while, when the mood catches him right, he gives you this world-healing, puppy-yipping, kitten-soft smile that makes you feel like you're floating. It should be illegal. He should at least give you a warning.

You decide the fluttering in your chest is a little too much for two o'clock in the afternoon, snowstorm or not, so you change the subject. "What movie should we start with?"

He takes the cue, he lets you do it; but he keeps staring at you like you like you're the only thing in the house worth looking at. "You decide. You're the better judge."

DECEMBER 25th

It's been twenty-two minutes since you woke up. You've been killing time, between your phone and the morning newscast on the television across from the bed, but now you're getting suspicious.

He'd been far too excited for any man who wakes up before sunrise. Christmas Day could be an exception, you suppose—fathers and guardians springing out of bed to watch their children rip open gifts. But Damian? You've never seen him so lit up before lunch.

Stay in bed, he'd said, the moment you rolled over for a kiss. You did get one, but he leapt out of bed so soon after that you wondered if you should be offended. You should probably explain that be right back usually doesn't mean a half-hour.

At minute thirty, you debating going and checking on him. You can hear noise, if you strain your hearing over the news anchor. Sizzling? Clanking, definitely. Clinking.

Footsteps in the hallway. The door knob rattles. Alfred the Cat perks up by your feet. Muffled swearing. Not in English, but you know the tone.

"Do you…want help?"

"No," he replies quickly. "Stay in bed."

You prop yourself up against the pillows and cross your arms. "Don't have to tell me twice."

There's a long pause behind the bedroom door, before the knob turns and the door swings open. You're pretty sure you see a socked foot reel back out of sight.

And then, he appears. Despite the brightly colored fleece pajama pants that match the shirt you slept in, he's still all poise and grace with a tray in his hands. He looks awfully proud of himself, like a cat prancing around with a fat mouse in its mouth, green eyes glittering.

You laugh incredulously. "What is that?"

He practically struts around to your side of the bed, sets the tray across your lap. "Breakfast, my darling."

Sure enough, there's enough food to feed you, he, the cat, and the news anchor. Two mugs of coffee, a stack of Christmas tree shaped pancakes, a platter of scrambled eggs, and a bowl of fruit-chunk-filled yogurt.

He takes your stunned silence as an opportunity to crawl over your legs and settle back down on his side of the bed.

"What– Why?" You're still laughing, grinning ear to ear. "I mean, this looks delicious, but why?"

He's smiling, too. "Well," he sighs, "I knew you were excited about Christmas, especially for dinner." Dinner, which was supposed to be held at Wayne Manor tonight, but had to be canceled to accommodate the weather, which decided to cover every side-street in two feet of snow and every major road in ice. "So I decided to…make up for it, I suppose."

#damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne blurb #quillschristmasparty #2022batfamsecretsanta

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unluckiestmember · 1 year

Text

Intimate Moments (Arcane Edition)

Summary: The most intimate and emotional moment during sex you’ve had with the main Arcane characters!

Characters: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Viktor and Silco

Warning: NSFW for sexual themes and suggestive themes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: A compilation from my last account and one of my personal favorite imagines/headcanons. Enjoy!

Jinx

It was your first time having sex with her. She didn’t really know what she was doing, but Jinx being Jinx, dived head first. Literally. She thinks she’s seen and been to heaven when she’s between your legs. The feeling of her on you in such a position made you moan out her name.

Not Jinx. But Powder.

Jinx stares up at you and you already know you made a mistake. No one calls her Powder, not even Silco! Unless you have a death wish, you should keep that name out of your mouth!

You stare down at her blue eyes expecting a scowl or a roar! But you were shocked when she whispered to you,

“Say it... Say it again.”

So you say it. “Powder.”

“Say it again.”

“Powder.”

“Please say it again.”

“Powder...”

You experience the best orgasm in your life, having the loose cannon below pleasure you like there was no tomorrow. She let her tongue work wonders and picked up her pace, taking in all of you in her mouth. When you came, Jinx cleaned you up and even pleasured you a little more, causing your eyes to roll back in eternal bliss.

She could tell you were finished for now so she pulled herself up to cuddle into your side. It took you a minute until you realized she cried to sleep. Not tears of anger or sorrow. But of joy.

Ever since, you are the only one who can call her Powder.

Vi is a wild animal in bed.

She’ll throw you down and waste no time to fuck your brains out for simple pleasure.

But one day, during a steamy make out session, you stopped to kiss down on her bandaged knuckles.

She’s taken a back for a minute.

Why would you do that?

You keep kissing on her knuckles without a care in the world. “Stop it,” She told you, trying her best to pull away from you. But you hold her softly. “Y/N, stop it...” She keeps fighting back for a minute, but eventually stops.

The brute breaks in your arms. How could you do that? How could you love someone who’s ruined so many lives with those fists of hers? It was impossible, wasn’t it? But you told her the answer to her worries and questions with a single glance into her gray eyes.

‘No.’

That night, you two had sex as usual, but this was more personal. More intimate. Vi took more gentle strokes and eased into picking up her speed and slamming harder on you.

She screams and moans your name like a prayer, countlessly says she loves you, feeling like any moment you will disappear. Though the way your hands relaxed on her hips and drew circles along her waist said otherwise.

The two of you came together before sleeping in each other’s arms. She could get used to sensual sex like that…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Innocent little Caitlyn.

Why are there barely any headcanons for Caitlyn? I-

Caitlyn was a classy woman, so sex was never really on her mind. It still wasn’t when you guys started dating. But you both knew you had to get things over with eventually. So one evening, Caitlyn dragged you to her room to try it.

The both of you were super awkward, especially the female enforcer. She would always ask in between actions “Are you okay? Is this right? Should it be the other way?” Bless her soul.

All around, everything was going well.

Until it was time to get naked. When it came her turn to feel pleasure, she didn’t do anything.

She hung her head low to the ground almost in disappointment. She stared down at her body. Thoughts lingered in her head; ‘What if I’m not beautiful to Y/N? What if I make a fool out of myself?’

Before she could ask herself any more questions, you rid her of her worries with sweet kisses. With every piece of clothing thrown on the floor, you whisper out, “You’re so precious. You look like an angel. Oh, I love you so much.”

You almost broke her down with every kiss you placed to mark her body. Your lips graced on her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her chest and finally her core. Oh, you loved everything about her.

You started to eat her, licking inside her folds at an average pace and flicking your tongue on her clit.

In a matter of seconds, her hands are lost in your hair, pushing your head closer to her to feel all of your tongue inside of her. Her moans clouded the room long after she came in your mouth. Pulling up, you both had lust in your eyes and could tell the night was still young…

Let’s just say she eventually screamed your name to the heavens long into the night and she realized two things; Sex with you was the best! And she was beautiful.

Ekko

Ekko has always been a bit of a wild boy when it came to having sex with you. It’s why you two were together to begin with.

He can be playful some nights, chuckling with you when he messes up something. Rough when he just really wants you. And romantic when you just need to know he cares about you.

One night the two of you were just having the time of your lives. He was slamming into you from behind, groaning out, “You like that, huh? Yeah, go ahead and scream my name, baby.” And boy did you love it.

Just feeling him stretch you out and pound deeper and faster in you was like euphoria. You found yourself screaming at the top of your lungs, “Ah, yes! Right there! Fuck, I love you, Ekko!”

You didn’t want it to stop, but soon the movement had slowed and the grip on your thighs loosened. You felt your body turning now to face the leader of the firelights panting down at you. “You love me,” He questioned, his brown eyes glistening in the moonlight full of hesitant awe.

Did you say you loved him? You never told him because you were scared of getting attached. He was the leader of a cause and lived in Zaun. Any minute he could be taken from you, so you tried not to get attached. Yet you said you loved him, whether it be out of lust or love wasn’t important. You said the sacred three words to him.

In that moment, you were sure as he began to stroke inside of you again, you didn’t see a warrior. You saw your boyfriend, your best friend, your everything.

He must have seen that in you too because he started to dig deeper in you, continuously hitting your g-spot with smooth strokes. His arms wrapped around you tightly, groaning at the feeling of a climax approaching him.

Together in a sea of utter pleasure, the both of you came together before relaxing in each other’s embrace under the shine of the midnight moon.

You slept well that night in his arms, letting him hold onto you with the mindset of if he let you go, you wouldn’t come back.

No matter what, after that day, you both say I love you at least once a day.

Viktor

My everything next to Jinx.

You and Viktor have been partners for a long time in Piltover, working on projects together when he wasn’t accompanied by Jayce. Though you two never started to officially date because hexcore was more important, even if deep down you two wanted to become an item.

Well, the thing about humans is that they don’t know how precious people are until they almost lose them.

Viktor found himself having a particularly horrible week; The hexcore may have fixed him, but took away a close friend. He may have almost stopped an incoming war, but he ended up losing some close allies due to the bombing on the council’s headquarters.

He had thought he lost you when the city went into lockdown due to the commotion. Thank the gods he found you that night safe and sound at your home.

Thank the gods he was safe too.

That following night, the two of you met one another at your home, where he knocked on your door. Your eyes connected with his amber eyes, and you were sure they screamed one thing; ‘I need you’.

In a matter of seconds, you two synchronized like gears to slam each others’ lips onto one another. Moving in rhythm, bodies danced through the dimly lit house towards your bedroom, where the scientist pushed you down on your comforter and wasted no time to rid himself of your clothes.

You did the same, though you found it cute and amusing that he was apologizing for his ‘inappropriate’ actions. You showed it was okay when you slammed your lips onto his again and felt yourself yearning for him.

You two grinded on each other, letting your lower bodies explore one another through groans and moans. The entire night, you two were one. Nothing else mattered when you found Viktor cumming inside of you and placing your hand gently onto your cheek.

You two stared at one another desperately before you heard the man speak in his native tongue, “я люблю тебя так сильно.”

You never questioned what that meant, but when you two started dating, he made it an effort to always tell you “I love you so much.”

Silco

As long as you’ve been dating the crime lord of Zaun, you knew damn well that Silco was not an emotional guy. No one has ever seen him let out his feelings to people, not even Jinx.

If he did ever give into his emotions, it would be out of anger, but never out of love.

He only ever saw sex as something done to relieve stress, kind of like you. You were his bitch anyways, nothing more.

That’s why he would always fuck your brains out, slamming his cock inside of you through your mouth or lower end with one goal in mind; To forget about the world and please himself for once in his god awful life.

However, one evening when he was railing deep inside of you on your desk, something was different to say the least. He wasn’t fucking you like a mad man. He wasn’t calling you degrading names and growling like an animal. Instead, his strokes were sensual and careful.

That was new. Was he sick? It’s not that you didn’t enjoy it. But why was he doing this?

You reach up to touch his face where his scar was and the man had froze up. You wanted to ask what the hell was going on. Where was the man who would pound you senseless?

Instead of being given an answer, his orange and blue eyes just pierced down at you before he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Through those eyes, you had seen the man you once knew. A man who was calculating, but somewhat compassionate. A man who just wanted the best for him and his brother. A man once had big dreams he wanted to accomplish with you by his side.

He always said that naïve brat was gone, but you always knew he was in there. That’s why you had no issue with this new version of him. It’s why you never batted an eye at his scarred eye. As a matter of fact, you adored it. You adored him.

With the feeling of your lips crashing slowly into his, Silco began to fuck you as usual. His strokes only picked up after a moment of your moans colliding in your mouth.

Before you knew it, he came hard and deep inside of you, making you scream out his name before relaxing a bit. Now panting hard on his desk, you stared up at Silco, finding him panting along with you. He eventually pulled away to sit in his chair.

You don’t know why he apologized or what happened that night, but from that day forward, Silco was more open to showing his appreciation for you…

Arcane requests are currently open! :D

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, be safe and have a good day! <3

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lorei-writes · 1 month

Note

Congratulations Lorei!! 🥳

Can I request for Masamune + touch [fluff] please?

Hehe thank you! 💕

Thank YOU for dropping! <3

»All the things we choose to share«

Masamune x Reader Fluff ~700 words Content Warnings: none

Snow Monster

White felt padded the skies above Oshu province, frozen winds having sneaked under the coat of impenetrable clouds. Snow never shied away from this land, bestowing it with its forward affections until everything was safely tucked in, warmed up under the freezing blanket and lulled to sleep by the melodically cracking ice. Winter, simply put, fell like a night.

You pulled the blanket up to your very nose. There was no light there in the room and so not a spark dared disprove your theory about your toes having already abandoned their place on your feet. You rubbed your legs against each other, tangled them further into the covers… kicked something that was both upsetting and calming, nebulously defying any logic you could muster up.

“Ouch.”

You pulled the covers over your face. Was it a snow monster? Did it come to get you, to gnaw on you with its frosty jaws? You shuddered, realising that the last moments of your life would never be reflected back at you and would instead die in the depths of literal charcoal eyes, the poking of its long daikon nose…

“Kitten.”

… provided that it had a daikon nose.

“Kitten, you’re cute when you’re all bundled up, but I still need some blankets.”

“Then get some more.”

“Those are all we’ve got here.” Masamune pulled at the covers. “C’mere, I’ll warm you right up.”

You embraced your cocoon with renewed vigour… and you were tumbled and you were turned, together with your entire world, a large mass of sorts entering into your orbit and forcing you to make your landing in its arms. You glared at Masamune, his breath tickling your ear as he laughed, his amusement an earthquake shaking you and your convictions down to the very core.

“You’re too cold,” you grumbled under your breath, nevertheless furthering the unsealing of your containment to welcome him into your kingdom of not-quite-freezing. And he betrayed you. Immediately. “Too cold!”

Masamune ran his hands across your back, chill seeping through the gaps between the fibres of your yukata and piercing your skin, each tap of his finger, the slightest tremor of his, a needle delivered to your spine. Hairs at the back of your neck rose. Little different from a startled cat, you grabbed his clothes, clawed at them with your bare hands… near sunk your nails into him, the loosely tied sash doing a poor job at holding his robe closed. Heat raising from Masamune’s skin enveloped you and, in turn, you froze.

“Told you,” he chuckled, so very smug you were near thankful you couldn’t see his face in the dark. However, your pout was also rendered powerless; the most you could do was touch him back.

Masamune drew in a sharp breath.

The first snow at the cusp of autumn, the tips of your fingers fell upon his chest, your frost melting over his skin, flowing down his sides like summer rain. You pressed your palms against him, as firm as you could be, and let them run up to his shoulders, to gently trace the old scarred over wound. The gunshot never sounded, however, the drumming in his chest drowning out any chilling memories. You nuzzled against his neck, letting the life boiling in his veins reassure you that he truly was there.

And he dared touch you again.

Masamune dared touch you, but while you basked in his warmth, he too must have been nourished by yours. His hands were scorching as they pulled you closer still, embraced you so completely you lost the sense of where you ended and he began. You sighed in contentment.

“Couldn’t have let me just come under the blanket instantly, hm?” he murmured into your hair.

“Nope. It was a just punishment.”

“A just punishment for what?”

“For not wearing a scarf while on a walk.”

Masamune burst out in laughter. He refrained from commenting, instead letting his still mildly frigid lips press against your forehead. Cradled in his arms, you got lots in a blizzard of dreams, each warmer than the previous one.

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @the12thnightproject @oda-princess @tele86 @rinaririr @cheese-ception @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260 @starlitmanor-network

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

#answered #chasing-storm-s #masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series

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joelslegalwhre · 2 years

Text

l'll be right by your side

pairing⁀➷ lando norris x fem!reader

word count⁀➷ 600 more or less

summary⁀➷ “I know you're hurting but that's alright. Because even the strongest people, they feel weak sometimes"

warnings⁀➷ breakup, crying, use of nickname (cupcacke), female reader, fluff, use of y/n, pining maybe?

a/n⁀➷ (as always, tell me if I missed a warning pls) This is based on a song I found on TikTok a while ago before the original song was released. (it’s by jonah kagen & ryan mack)

It was a relationship that would last forever. Your one true love. At least that was what you thought.

"It just isn't the same between us anymore. I don't… feel the same." you looked at him, your heart felt heavy. You knew what he was going to say, yet you asked him, "What do you mean?" your voice nearly on the edge of breaking apart.

"I'm breaking up with you , y/n." he said. You felt the tears building up in your eyes but you refused to cry in front of him. You knew that if you opened your mouth right now, you wouldn't be able to hold the tears back.

So you just nodded. You couldn't believe it, you didn't want to.

He felt like your love story.

And when he left, it felt like he took your heart with him too.

Not thinking, you just put on your shoes and a hoodie.

The tears were now streaming down your face. You knew where you wanted to go and it was as if you knew it was going to be alright the moment you would arrive.

The night was silent, you felt the cold night air wrapping itself around you like a blanket. It wasn't a log walk but on your way, you felt like you were coming closer to your safe place with every step you took.

You knocked on the door and hit the bell twice. A signal you always did, 'showing' it was you. You heard someone literally running towards the door and then, seconds after you knocked, the door opened.

"Cupcake.." Lando saw your tears and stopped in his tracks. He didn't say anything he just took your hand and dragged you in. While he closed the door you had already made your way to the couch. Lando took a blanket and wrapped it around you.

"You don't have to talk. It's alright,” he soothed you, “I know you're hurting. You are one of the strongest people know, but even the strongest people feel weak sometimes.” His warm hand, much larger than yours, drew circles your back.

“It's alright, shh." he said and you cuddled up to his chest.

"He... he broke up with me." You almost whispered. Tears were now running down you cheeks again, Lando wiped them away with his hands and stroked your hair. You couldn't hold it in and you knew you didn't have to. You were safe. You felt safe. And so you cried.

"Thank you." you said, still sobbing. He was everything you needed, he was your safe place. "Cupcake, you know that when you need me l'll be right by your side. Forever."

If you only knew.

You were laying on the couch for some time until you stopped crying. It was like when you were little. When you fell off your bike and scraped up your knee, when you didn't get invited to the birthday party in Kindergarten. Lando has always been there for you.

Ever since you could think. He saved you ever since you could think.

"He is an idiot for not wanting to be with you." he said with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

You glanced up at him, a small smile on your lips. "You save me every time, you know? I'd be lost without you."

Lando smiled at you and gave you a kiss on your hairline. "I promise, lil try to make your days a little brighter, Cupcake. And when you need me I will be right by your side." he whispered. From time to time, he placed a soft kiss on your head, just like he did before.

Your eyelids felt heavy and just before you couldn’t fight it anymore you heard Lando’s voice, barely above a whisper, so quiet you thought you just imagined it. “I love you.”

And when you laid there, cuddled up in Lando's arms drifting off to sleep, you realized that your love story wasn't finished.

It had just begun.

༄ Don't copy, translate or republish any of my works on any app or other platform please. I only post my work on Tumblr and Wattpad.

Reposts are always appreciated, they really make my day🧡

#mywork #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x f!reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula one #mclaren formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula1 #f1 x y/n #mclaren f1 #f1 imagine #joelslegalwhre's masterlist

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stxrmylxve · 11 months

Note

First: I'm sorry, I know you just stated an event and I've been sending a bunch of requests, so PLEASE take your time and put off anything you need to! Never feel obligated to fulfill a request if you've got other stuff going on, I promise I'm understanding of the fact that we all have lives and other things going on in them.

Second: Apologizing a second time, because I decided to send this one in (I had it saved in my drafts and was going to scrap it) because I got really sad and needed some comedy.

Kazutora, Mikey, Chifuyu, Baji, Kokonoi, and Draken with an S/O who playfully runs away from them when they're about the be questioned regarding pranks being pulled on them (I.E. hiding Draken's tools in unusual places, putting sticky notes on their clothes with funny messages that make others giggle, drawing cat whiskers on Chifuyu with washable markers but while he sleeps) S/O be like: "Wha? WHO DID THAT? Uh-uh, not me, NO sir! Innocent till proven guilty," and if they chase S/O: "AAAAAH IT WASN'T MEEEE!"

A/N: sorry for the late answer, life hit and holy fuck it is unnecessarily stressful sometimes huh?

Kazutora:

What you did: Left a funny note on the back of his shirt

okay kazutora wants a good start back in life, and when people start laughing at him it makes him a little suspicious again

he has no clue what he is wearing half the time, muchless cares to looks for a message

…why do i feel like he might get a little mad?

in private, ofc

he would rant about it to you for a good while and it is hard to keep your composure

“…you wrote it on my back?”

… he chases you for hours, beware.

Mikey:

What you did: Didn’t give him a flag on his food

you’re his flag person, how could you forget a flag for him?!

throws a damn tantrum and calls up draken so that he will come to bring the flag for him

”you don’t have my flag? …why.?”

he gets so sad oml

“I just forgot it, that’s all. It’s in my bag at home…”

he glares at you for a good day or so (or more)

Chifuyu:

What you did: Drew a cat in sharpie on his chest

chifuyu shows his chest at meetings. okay that sounds weird. he goes on rants and for some reason breaks out his chest and wabam, there is a huge cat face he didn’t know about on full display

mikey has to stiffle a laugh since this is an official meeting, but chifuyu flat out leaves

”did you seriously draw on my chest last night?”

”me? noooo, I would never. Hey i gotta go walk peke j outside to go swimming, i gotta go-“

poor baby

Baji:

What you did: Hid his favorite hairbrush

this man is a DIVA and will FIGHT for his hairbrush

anyways, hr gets so pissed and reminds me of inosuke randomly yelling

”WHO THE FUCK TOOK MY HAIRBRUSH”

… you’re the only one in the house. obviously it was you. duh.

he questions you day in and out trying to solve the ‘mystery’, but when it shows up mysteriously the next day, he tackles you again for questioning

no literally, tackles you onto the bed and asks you sm 💀

Koko:

What you did: stored a wad of cash for tonight’s dinner/shopping elsewhere

he doesn’t really care until you throw a fake fit saying how much you had been looking forward to paying in cash for your stuff

then he perked up, but got nervous instead

he often misplaces things, but never his money. thought it wad a robbery and checked the cameras, only to find you snooping around

he is fine w it though, he even plays along and acts dumb

”you know i saw you on the cameras, right?”

”me? no. that was my.. sister, koko. we looks identical heh.”

Draken:

What you did: ‘Accidentally’ misplaced a few of his tools

you can not be playing games the man is on a TIME CRUNCH

he flips the whole shop upside down before you rush in to stop with panic

”baby it was just a prank! they’re over there.” you usher him to a corner where everything was neatly places, and a huge sigh escapes his lips

not only was everything there instead of robbed, it was all still organized neatly enough to his liking

he has a different approach and pecks your lips with a small ‘thanks’ before going back to work

a total mystery 💁‍♀️

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spreadyovrwings · 7 months

Text

64 Oslo Square

"Companion' Middle English. From Old French ‘compaignon', literally 'one who breaks bread with another.

Strapped for cash, John gets a job at a bakery as their new delivery boy. Juggling school and Queen and work is exhausting, but it's more than worth it. It's worth it because of you.

Warnings for this chapter: self… induced… smut…. and some more flirting

Chapter Eight

John leaned his weary body up against the door to his room after it clicked shut behind him. His digs had never felt more empty, more dark or unwelcoming.

The last of the day’s light was still filtering in through his tiny, square window, alighting on the scratchy old carpet and highlighting a pile of textbooks he’d forgotten to put away the night before.

With a sigh, John flung his bags down on the floor, then carefully propped up his bass in the corner of the room. He let his fingertips drag along the spine of its leather case, a sort of thank you for helping him play so well tonight. It had become a ritual, though John would rather die than admit that, to himself or to anyone else.

His stomach growled, a dog pawing at the back door, waiting impatiently to be let in. John thought about making some dinner but it was late, he didn’t want to disturb the others as he crashed around in the kitchen. A cup of tea could have been a reasonable substitute, but the process (another usually calming, nostalgic ritual) seemed exhausting and tedious. He just wanted to sleep.

Luckily, John had a good amount of leftover food from the bakery stashed away. He grabbed a couple of the white boxes from his shelf and dragged open their satiny scarlet ribbons. You’d saved him again.

Chewing gratefully on a flaky croissant, John flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. He was so tired, they stung at first and he had to blink a couple of times so push away the pain.

He polished off the croissant, flicking his fingers over the side of the bed to get rid of any remaining pastry crumbs. He already felt a little better.

John drew in a long breath then slowly released it again, until all the muscles in his body had finally unwound and he had sunk further into the mattress.

“You sure you won’t come in? The sofa’s got your name on it. Or, you know…”

John opened his eyes and stared blankly up at his low, beige ceiling.

How could he have been so stupid. You had stood on your doorstep, asking him, plain as day, if he wanted to stay the night, and just when it mattered most, he’d chickened out.

“You were such a good boy for me.”

John groaned. What a moron. He turned and pressed his face into the pillow. Maybe if he pushed hard enough, he’d get lucky and suffocate.

He could still feel your soft skin against his palm. John found himself curling his hand around the ghost of your cheek, his eyes closing as he pictured you gazing up at him, smiling, always smiling.

“They need you, New Boy.”

“Don’t you need me?”

“I want you, that’s different.”

You got all shy after you said that. John didn’t think he’d ever seen you look so bashful. You wanted him. He knew it. And, God, he wanted you too.

It was late. He had an exam in the morning. He was still hungry and dehydrated after the show. He’d said ‘no’ to you like an idiot. He really shouldn’t do anything but sleep.

John unbuckled his belt with one hand.

He closed his eyes and pictured you laying beside him, the what-would-have-been if he hadn’t been such a colossal git. With a soft, relieved groan, he forced his hand down the front of his trousers, just as the you he’d conjured in his head kissed him hard enough to bruise.

Not too far away, you were also staring at the ceiling. Try as you might, you couldn’t sleep. You’d eaten late, you’d stayed up too long, you had a million things to worry about - you’d almost managed to convince yourself these were the reasons you couldn’t drop off. Almost.

With a sigh, you turned over onto your side.

You could still feel John’s big hands in yours. You loved those hands. Skilled in electronics and an expert at the bass. He’d probably play with you just as well, if not better.

You sighed dolefully.

Maybe if you’d been more insistent, if you’d asked again and maybe been more obvious about what you wanted, John would’ve followed you home and you wouldn’t be lying here, alone, pressing your thighs together and trying to ignore the ache between them.

You stared at the wall. You stared and stared and stared, willing sleep to claim you. Behind your closed eyes, images of John on stage awaited you, daring you to do something about how delicious he looked that night.

“Oh, fuck it.”

You stuck two fingers in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them, the way you’d been picturing John doing ever since his trick with the ring. His lovely, funny mouth. You’d give anything to have it between your legs right now.

Whispering softly to yourself, you closed your eyes and imagined how it might’ve started, what you might’ve done if you’d been brave enough to entice him in properly, and all the while you gently coaxed at your swollen clit

You’d have to sit in his lap again. You’d simply die if you didn't get the chance to do that again soon. John had felt so small beneath you but so warm and sturdy too. You could wrap his hair around your fingers as you lazily kissed him, whispering sweetly against his lips as he gasped and rocked his hips against yours.

So close to each other, you seemed to be sharing one breath, you imagined yourself breaking away to mouth down his neck, sinking your teeth in here, sucking a dark mark there, until John was whining and struggling to sit still.

His face burning, John pictured you under him, your arms wrapped around his middle, your lovely hands pressing into his back and keeping him close as you moaned into his mouth. He wanted to make you feel so good, just wanted to make you see how much he cared about you with his lips, his hands, his teeth and his tongue.

But it didn’t seem right. His very limited experience (and magazines he would rather die than you ever find out he read) were a guide, but those girls weren’t you. For some reason, John knew this wasn’t how it would go and something in the back of his head was telling him to flip the situation.

You, with your champagne smile and daggerish words. You weren’t going to let anyone push you around, especially not him, especially not when it came to sex. You’d back him up against the wall and push your knee between his thighs, your hands on his hips, squeezing tight as you whispered awful, naughty things against his lips that made his knees buckle.

John wriggled out of his trousers and pants, so desperate he didn’t even bother pushing them both all the way down. He raised his hand to his face, dragged his tongue across his palm, and immediately wrapped his hand around his cock again, squeezing and tugging desperately as he imagined you pushing him flat on his back and smiling down at him.

He moved his free hand so that it rested up by his head, just where he knew you’d place it, and tried to imagine your fingers wrapped tight around his wrist, your nails just beginning to sink into his skin.

“Fuck…” John hissed between his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck- John…”

Your face flushed. You hadn’t meant for his name to slip out. But God, it felt good. It felt right. It felt perfect.

You drew your knee up then let it flop to the side, giving you better access, and all the while you thought about John’s lovely hands pushing your thighs apart so that he could bury his face between them.

“God, you’re so good, you’re so good…” you muttered to yourself, finding your own praises and moans turned you on even more as you rubbed at your clit.

Pictures flooded through your head. You couldn't settle on just one for very long. John’s tongue pressing inside you, his pretty mouth falling open as you slipped your hand around his throat and squeezed gently, the look in those clever grey eyes as he rocked his hips into yours. It was all so much, too much, and even though you felt a flash of guilt for thinking about John like that, it was soon drowned out by the soft little moans and grunts you knew he’d make as you sank down onto him and rode him within an inch of his life.

Sweat beaded John’s forehead as he twisted his wrist in just the right way, thumbing at the slit of his cock just to tease himself. His bottom lip clamped between his teeth, he fucked his hand, his eyes squeezing shut as warmth began to pool in the pit of his stomach.

It had been so long since he’d been able to get himself off. The stress of uni, coming home exhausted after gigs, never having much time on his own, it meant it had been weeks since he’d been able to touch himself like this. And now he had a million ideas he’d never allowed himself to entertain before, ideas about you.

Your knees pressing into his sides as you straddled him, the way you’d moan softly as you looked down at him, approving, studying him like you did your recipes, your lovely eyes switching back and forth across his face, his chest, his stomach - now much softer than when he started - and down and down and down.

John groaned, letting his wrist go limp as his hand slipped up and down his cock. He kept trying not to let his hips leave the bed, but it was too much, soon his back was arching like the girls in his magazines.

“Come on, sweet boy…” Your voice, so real he could almost believe you were murmuring by his ear, was soft and sweet and oh so in control. “Are you gonna cum for me, honey? Gonna cum just from being inside me at last?”

John bit his lip harder, trying not to make a sound, but the growing pressure pooling below his navel made it almost impossible. The hand he’d laid by his head made its way into his tangled hair, still damp with sweat from the gig. John wrapped his curls around his fingers and tugged, hard, a move that made him let out an embarrassingly reedy groan.

“That’s it, good boy. Good boy… You look so perfect like this, Johnny. Could cum just from watching you touch yourself. Come on, pretty boy, let me hear you…”

You were so wet, you could hear your fingers as they worked. It made your cheeks prickle. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had made you feel like this, so desperate and single-minded.

All you could think about was John, how he’d look beneath you, how he’d whine and gasp as you rode him, his hands up above his head, his pretty chest rising and falling raggedly as he tried to catch his breath, his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat.

You knew he’d let you do anything you wanted. You knew he’d beg you to touch him, to look at him, to take him to places he didn’t think were possible, and wouldn’t stop until you were finished with him. Such a smart, enthusiastic boy.

You could picture him sitting up against the headboard, his face pressed between your breasts as you rocked your hips, his hands gripping your hips, your arse, as he mouthed at your flushed skin, leaving trails of kisses and bites and saliva in his wake.

He’d turn up at rehearsals the next day, covered from head to toe in love bites and bite marks, a map of your lips, and he’d wear them all with pride.

John huffed sharply through his nose, his eyes rolling back as he fucked his hand.

Come on, come on, come on, so close, so close, so close…

He pulled at his hair again, just as something began to tighten in his lower belly, and John’s back arched off the bed again, his eyes rolling shut as he whispered to himself.

“Please, please, please… Fuck- Ah!”

He came moaning your name, his mouth hanging open as pleasure rolled through his body. He bent double, folded like a deckchair, the hardest he’d ever cum in his life. John’s hips jerked out of rhythm but he didn’t stop moving his hand, because he knew you wouldn’t. He didn’t stop until it started to ache.

John let his body flop back onto the bed, completely spent. He’d never made that much noise before. He just prayed his neighbours hadn’t heard him.

Across the city, your fingers were starting to cramp but, determined, you kept your pace.

Always so obedient. Always so eager to do well. And not for just anyone, for you. Oh, you’d seen the way John preened every time you paid him the littlest compliment, how he beamed with pride whenever you were sweet to him and how eager he seemed to reassure you that you could do anything you wanted to him.

“You’re in charge, Captain.”

Maybe you could learn to like the nickname.

And maybe it wouldn’t take much convincing to get John to let you have him, his lovely hair strewn across the pillow, his back back arching off the bed as you slipped inside him. God, how he’d bounce and roll his hips, his moans rising higher and higher as he begged you to fuck him harder.

“Fu- Johnnn…”

The band across your belly snapped, and you came moaning the delivery boy’s name.

Exhausted, you let your body sink into the bed. Already, you could feel sleep beginning to overwhelm you. You just about had the wherewithal to pull your hand from the front of your pants before you turned over and fell right asleep, your body still pulsing and your mind still buzzing with the thought of John’s whines of pleasure, and the way his hands had felt in yours as he walked you home.

The next morning, you danced around the bakery’s shop floor, wiggling your hips and kicking up your heels as you tugged tables and their accompanying chairs into place. It did occur to you why you might’ve been in such a good mood but you chose to ignore that.

Cold, morning sunshine flooded in as you placed some of the goods you’d baked that morning in the window, then the rest behind the display counter. All the while, you sang along with the radio, waggling your head to T-Rex and smiling to yourself.

The world seemed at ease, just for a moment.

“Well, she ain't no witch and I love the way she twitch, uh-huh. I'm her two-penny prince and I give her hot love, uh-huh…”

A sharp knock at the door made you look up. It was about quarter past five, the bakery wouldn’t be open for more than an hour, so you immediately went into defensive mode. Thankfully, you recognised the face pressed up against the glass.

“Roger?”

You opened the door.

John’s drummer almost fell into the shop but he caught himself well.

“Alright, Bakery Girl?”

Roger grinned, wide and youthful, and clearly unaffected by the early hour. He was bundled up in a warm jacket, his shoulders drawn right up to his ears as he glanced over your shoulder into the dark, empty bakery.

You had to smile. This boy was even easier to read than John.

“I’m good, I’m good, yeah. It’s a nice mornin’, innit?” You nodded over your shoulder. “D’you wanna cuppa to take to work with you?”

Roger accepted your offer so eagerly, he almost tripped over his own feet getting through the door.

“You’re in a good mood,” he said, perching on one of the tables you’d set out.

You realised you were still humming to yourself. Try as you might, you couldn’t force down your smile.

“Just- You know.” You shrugged, trying not to look too sheepish. “How’s the market?”

“It’s fun! Hard but… We’re surviving. Barely make enough money to eat but it’s a good laugh.”

He spoke with such brevity, the soft corners of his pretty mouth tugged back into a toothy smile. Still, his words struck you. Roger and Freddie seemed so happy, so at ease in themselves, that you’d hardly believe they were struggling. You made a conscious decision to add them to your list of scrawny, ridiculous boys who needed looking after.

“Well, that’s all that matters, I s’pose,” you said, forcing a smile.

If Roger noticed your worry, he didn’t show it. He was too busy eyeing up the cakes and pastries behind the glass display case.

“Fred’s got this mate in Chiswick says he’s got a ton of swimwear and things for us. It’ll be summer soon, people’ll want stuff like that. Then maybe we can rent a bigger patch in the market. Maybe start selling LPs as well.”

“That’s the dream then, eh?”

“Oh, no,” Roger raised his head, his pretty eyes wide and soft in the low light. “No, the dream is… Walking out of EMI with a contract and my best mates… The whole world and our whole lives out in front of us. That’s the dream. Me and my mates, working together and seeing the world. I want to make things, you know? Be useful. Help people. Help someone.”

He couldn’t know it, but Roger had single-handedly unwound all your worries about your future with John. The way he spoke about it, it seemed so easy, like he was talking about any other job, and the warmth in his voice… Roger really believed it would happen for them. They were going to make it. Maybe you didn’t have to focus your energy on a plan you’d devised years ago. Maybe you could afford to have the same faith Roger did.

“Well,” you said, smiling too now. “When you put it like that.”

Roger sighed with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders.

“It’s just a dream, Bakery Girl. But that’s all I’ve got.”

“What about John? What’s his dream?”

“Something a lot more pedestrian, I think.” Roger raised his eyebrows. “You probably factor in somewhere.”

Face burning, you turned away to make his tea.

“Shu’ up.”

“Ahh, you know I’m right. I reckon he still thinks he’s gonna end up working in some lab or drawing up blueprints, or somethin’. We’re working on an album, you know. But I think he still thinks it’s just a laugh.”

“But it’s not?”

Roger smiled but his bright eyes, blue as the sea he grew up by, were serious and certain.

“No.”

You twisted your mouth.

“Rockstar or genius scientist.”

“I know. Leave some for the rest of us.”

You both took a moment to marvel at John’s seemingly unlimited potential. Then Roger smiled.

“Has he asked you out yet? I’ve been coaching him. Trying to make him act for once in his bloody life. Grab the bull by the horns.” He waved a hand. “So to speak.”

It proved too difficult to hide your smile, so you gave up trying. Instead, you passed him two steaming paper cups and warned him that they were still too hot to drink from just yet.

While the tea steeped, you set about putting together his breakfast.

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “I could ask him out.”

“Oh, I’d love to watch that.” Roger laughed and shook his head. “He’s great, isn’t he. I really like him. Most people just…”

He made an ineffectual sound and waved his hand again. It seemed Roger too had had his fair share of people letting him down, sadly just by being fundamentally people.

You followed his hand as it came to rest by his thigh again. His fingertips were bandaged. John’s fingers had felt a little coarse the few rare, wonderful times he’d brushed them against your skin. These boys wounded themselves, altered themselves for what they loved. You thought of your own scarred, roughened hands. There was a kinship there you never could have imagined.

“But John’s great. Always there when you need him. Brian bores me half to death most of the time but John’s clever in a nice way. You don’t feel like you’re being quizzed ‘n’ tested when you’re with him. You’re just… With him.”

Roger had the faraway look of someone realising just how lucky he was. You knew he wasn’t just talking up his friend, he really believed every word. You’d never seen someone so proud or so fond of his friends.

“Anyway, he’s a pain in my arse too, don’t get me wrong. But he’s great.”

Beaming, you passed Roger a bag filled with pastries, and a carrier for his and Freddie’s morning cuppas.

“I think so too.”

“New Boy!”

The shout was so sudden, John almost fell off his bike. He gripped the handles tight, wobbling dangerously as he stuck out his heels and dragged himself to a slow and graceless stop.

It was late in the afternoon. John had just finished his last round of deliveries and was looking forward to spending the rest of his day with you, helping out in the kitchen, and trying not to think about kissing you - the usual day to day.

You were standing in the bakery’s doorway, smiling so broadly, orbiting astronauts could probably see it. You were keeping the door propped open with one hand, the other was outstretched towards him.

“Mickey’s ‘ere! And he brought the baby!”

Before he knew it, John had been ushered inside. Your lovely hands switched dizzyingly between his hips and the small of his back as you guided him to the kitchen, where Mickey was waiting with a tiny bundle of pink cloth gathered up in his enormous arms.

“Oh, Mick…” John couldn’t help beaming as he leaned in to take a closer look. “She’s lovely.”

There had been photos posted up by the phone for weeks now, of little Dot just a few hours old, waving one tiny hand at the camera. You’d put up a few more recent pictures of Mickey and his family just the other day, all of the Caines squashed together to fit in frame. Nothing compared to seeing something so small and beautiful in person for the first time.

“She’s a righ’ terror,” Mickey beamed down at his little girl. “Drives her mother insane. An’ her old dad. Reckon she’s gonna be singer with the way she goes on. Maybe she could front your band one day, Johnny Boy.”

“She’d give Freddie a run for his money, I bet.”

John held out one finger and brushed it delicately across the back of one of Dot’s tiny fists.

“So, who does she look like more, d’you reckon? You or Rita?” he asked.

You snorted.

“You’re ‘avin a laugh. She’s perfect. She’s all Rita.”

“Ahhh, she’s got my charm. And my devilish good looks.”

Mickey finally tore his gaze away from his little girl to smile at John.

“Do you wanna hold her?”

“Me? Are you sure? I’ve never really…”

“Don’t be daft. C’mon, you’re part of the family now.”

With careful instructions on how to position his arms, Mickey gently passed Dot over, settling her against John’s chest.

The baby made a soft sound of disapproval, she never liked being far from her father’s warm, broad chest, but she soon settled. Her eyes closed, Dot sighed softly and went right back to sleep.

“There. You see?” Mickey patted John’s shoulder with a hand the size of a bear’s paw. “You’re a natural, mate. Won’t be long till you’ve got a few of your own.”

It took all John’s strength not to glance at you.

“She’s amazing, Mickey.”

John smiled as he ever so gently began to sway from side to side, trying to remember how his parents had soothed his little sister when she was just a baby.

He only looked up when he felt your hand on his arm. You were looking down at Dot, smiling gently, but your warm touch, the way your fingers pressed into him, that was a secret, just for the two of you.

“She’s so perfect. Shame you didn’t name her after me but…” You grinned. “Hang on, I have to take a photo. Stay right there, don’t move.”

John watched you go. He didn’t tear his gaze away until the door up to your flat had clicked shut behind you.

It was strange, but he already missed you. Just being near you set his whole body at ease. He could think clearer, his heart kept a regular pace, at least, until you smiled at him, or touched him, or looked in his general direction. When you were gone, it all came rushing back, like the pressure in the room had changed. He’d never needed to be near someone before.

John caught Mickey smiling at him and turned his attention back to the baby in his arms, hoping he didn’t look as he felt, like a love struck idiot who couldn’t concentrate whenever you weren’t around, let alone when you were.

“So,” Mickey was grinning now, much to John’s chagrin. “How’s things with you and the Captain?”

“They’re good.” John kept his eyes down, hoping in vain that it would obscure how red his face was getting. “We’ve been seeing quite a lot of each other but… No official date yet.”

“So you’re not goin’ together?”

John grimaced.

“I haven’t really asked her properly. It’s my fault,” he said sheepishly.

Dot began to fuss in John’s arms. She raised one of her little fists in the air, as if she too disapproved of his cowardliness.

Mickey reached over. John thought he might want to take his little girl back but he just brushed one finger across her clenched fist and whispered to her sweetly. Dot settled again, a look of contentment on her angelic face.

“She’s like her dad. Never ‘appy unless she’s complainin’.” Mickey smiled fondly. “So what’s keeping you? Last time I saw you, seemed like things were movin’ along a bit.”

“They were. They have.”

John thought about the night before, how soft and open your eyes had been as you gazed up at him. He had held your face, your hands, practically admitted everything he felt for you, and you’d smiled and said you wanted him too. God, why hadn’t he kissed you?

Because, John thought, because he was afraid. Even after everything you’d said, everything you’d done together, he was terrified that you didn’t actually care about him, and this was all a roll of the dice that would end with him losing the first place he’d felt safe in years, and a second family he didn’t want to ever say goodbye to. And he could lose you too. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” John said quietly. “Not like that?”

Mickey shrugged, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“She does.”

John huffed.

“She thinks I’m useless.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She thinks I’m quiet and funny-looking-”

“She thinks the world of you, you muppet-”

“And too skinny.”

“She loves you!”

The words hung in the air, like dust after a building collapses, crawling and curling their way through the kitchen, until they had filled John’s eyes, his lungs, his mind.

He blinked, heart sore, begging Mickey not to make fun of him with just a look. But Mickey nodded earnestly as he tucked Dot’s blanket under her back, as if promising her, or perhaps on her, that he would never joke about something so serious.

“She adores you, mate,” he said, just before the door opened again and you came bounding through, camera in hand.

“Okay, hold still. Say cheese!”

John tried his best to lower his head so that he and Dot would be in frame together without disturbing her. He felt Mickey wrap an arm around his shoulders and realised he was smiling without having to be told.

The camera clicked, flashed, then whirred as it spat out the polaroid.

“That’s one for the album,” you said as you stared at the photo, waiting for it to develop. “Shame Glad isn’t here. Where is she?”

Mickey scoffed.

“She ‘avin’ lunch with his nibs.”

“Well then,” You placed your free hand on your hip. “I’d say that’s lunch then, boys.”

You didn’t flip back the sign on the door. John tried not to look too surprised, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen you pass off an opportunity to keep the bakery open. Money was tight, this place was your whole world, you had a lot invested in 64 Oslo Square.

Perhaps you’d simply grown tired of working yourself to exhaustion when Gladys couldn’t even be bothered to show up. Perhaps it didn’t feel right to work when there was such an important visitor. John didn’t care what had driven this decision. He was just pleased to see you take some time for yourself. You’d more than earned an afternoon in the sun with your family.

You took John’s hand and led him across the road to the chippy, where you handed over loaves of bread, sweet pastries, and cups of tea in return for three bags of chips, cod for Mickey and a battered sausage for you and John. Michael’s Fish Bar had been kicking about for almost as long as the bakery; this bartering system had existed for far longer than you’d worked at 64 Oslo Square.

After dishing everything out, you pressed a plate into John’s hands and led him out through the kitchen doorway to the alley. You sat down together, side by side on the top step, your knees touching, and happily tucked into salty, hot chips that burnt the tongue and soothed the soul.

“So what’re you reading at the moment?” John asked, after a few minutes of comfortable silence had passed.

Beside you, Dot gurgled in her pram. You hadn’t had much experience around children, especially babies as tiny as her, but you knew enough to gingerly push the buggy’s back wheel with the toe of your shoe, gently rocking her back into her dreams.

“Oh, nothing at the moment. Been too busy,” you said through a mouthful of chips. “You got any recommendations?”

“Uni is so intense right now, all my suggestions would be written by Seymour Hammond.”

“Right,” you said, bewildered. “No, yeah. He’s fab.”

John picked up another chip and stared at it. He was chewing on his bottom lip, tugging the skin between his incisors as he thought.

You watched, mesmerised.

“You know, when I first moved here, I hated London. The smell, the crowds…”

“The price of fish and chips.”

That made John smile. He stopped worrying his lip and finally popped the chip into his mouth.

“But when I’m here, I see it.”

“See what?”

“Home, I suppose. This place feels like home. Or it’s starting to, at least. Does that make sense?”

In the ocean of your heart, something was stirring. Towering waves of fondness, warmth, and something you were beginning to seriously suspect might be love, rose up, crested, then broke, washing over your heart again and again, gently but firmly, undeniably.

“I think you’re a bit mental but… Yeah, it makes sense.”

You glanced over your shoulder. Mickey was on the phone to his wife, letting her know he’d be home soon and asking if she needed him to pick up anything on his way. You and John were alone.

You shrugged.

“Maybe it’s Gladys’ tea.”

John snorted.

“Or the free food.”

“Or the good company.”

“You do tend to make things a bit brighter, I’ve found.”

John looked at you, really looked at you. Gone were the days when he could hardly hold your gaze. Long gone. He had the most beautiful eyes you’d ever seen.

“I don’t fancy your drummer,” you said, cheeks beginning to burn at how abrupt you’d sounded.

John’s eyebrows pulled together, his nose wrinkling.

“I didn’t-”

“I know you think I do. He’s nice but he’s not my type.”

John didn’t look convinced but he was still smiling.

“I thought you liked pretty boys.”

“I do.” Heart pounding, you turned your body towards his. “Pretty boys with pretty hair and lovely eyes, cute noses and a funny mouth.”

“My mouth isn’t funny.”

“Then why are you smiling?” You grinned. “Very presumptuous of you, by the way, John.”

Pink dusted his cheeks. It was such a lovely sight, you could barely resist brushing your fingertips along the path laid out for you, across his cheek, down his neck, to his chest and beyond.

Then he moved, turning his body in towards yours, so now your knees were pressed against his upper leg. John was so tense, you could practically feel the muscles in his thigh jump at your touch.

He lowered his head, as if to whisper in your ear, but his eyes never left yours.

“Call it a theory,” John said. “One I’ve been mulling over for a while.”

You watched, hardly daring to breathe, as he leaned in closer. Your fingers itched to wrap around the collar of his shirt and pull him in, but the thought of moving right now seemed impossible.

“And have you managed to mull up a hypothesis?”

“Oh, definitely,” John’s eyes dropped to your mouth. “Trust me, I’ve had lots of thoughts about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m having one right now, actually.”

You wanted to respond with something clever. You wanted to take the next step in this dance you’d fallen into. You wanted to see if you could make John’s ears go as red as his cheeks. But you couldn’t think of anything to say. You couldn’t think at all.

You felt your hand move without your say so. It slipped over his knee and found a home on John’s thigh, keeping him close, keeping yourself grounded.

He was looking at you so intently, you could hardly breathe. Sunbeams filtered into the alley, light particles that had travelled hundreds of thousands of miles, just to get tangled in John’s lovely hair. The shadow cast by his aquiline nose, the tiny smile at the corner of his brilliant mouth, the softness of his gaze. How could you resist?

“John…”

Your heart was aching in your chest, pressing against your ribs, pushing you forward towards him. You had to draw in a breath to try and ease the pressure in your chest, but it shuddered through, and there was no way John couldn’t have noticed.

He smiled, sweet and reassuring, as he bent his head, murmuring your name under his breath.

Footsteps behind you made you straighten up. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d closed your eyes.

“‘Scuse me, lovebirds,” Mickey barged between you carrying two enormous black rubbish bags. “Bin man comes at seven.”

You weren’t violent by nature, but suddenly the idea of knocking Mickey’s lights out and shoving him into a dustbin seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea.

John looked about as mortified as you felt. But he was still enticingly close. He hadn't moved away.

You were still squeezing his thigh. Part of your brain screamed at you to take your hand back, to apologise and pretend like it had never happened. But there was another voice, braver, softer, that told you it was alright, to just trust yourself, to trust John, and to never, ever let him go.

“John, I-”

The bakery door opened. You turned your head in the direction of the sound, frowning quizzically. That was odd, you thought, you’d definitely locked it.

Then you heard Gladys’ voice. She was calling out for you. Something twisted in your chest, though you couldn’t be sure why.

Squeezing John’s thigh reassuringly, you gave him a quick smile.

“Don’t move,” you said firmly, then scrambled to your feet before he could say any more.

You didn’t look back as you hurried through the kitchen. If you did, you feared you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from grabbing his face and having another go at kissing him senseless.

Heart still hammering, you made your way into the bakery where Gladys was standing in the centre of the shop floor. She looked pale, her usually lively eyes dull and almost unseeing.

For a moment, you worried that she was angry with you for shutting the shop. You tried to summon a smile, your hands automatically reaching out to make her a cup of tea.

“Gladys! I thought you were-” You cleared your throat, your mind still spinning from the dark, soft look in John’s eyes as he leaned in to kiss you. “Doesn’t matter. Mick’s here and he brought the little’un!”

“Where is everyone?”

Gladys’ voice was hollow. She was gripping a slip of paper in her hands so tightly, you could see it was beginning to tear.

“They’re outside having a fag. Well, Mickey’s having a fag and John’s got chips. We just stopped for a late lunch.”

When she didn’t say anything, you frowned.

“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

“He’s taken it.”

“Taken..?” You shook your head, trying to ignore the sickening, churning dread in the pit of your belly. “Who, Glad? What’s going on?”

“Alastair,” she whispered the name like it was bad luck. And perhaps it was. “He’s taken the bakery.”

Time slowed, choked, before finally falling to its knees. An age passed. Civilisations came and went. Stars burned and died. And all you could do was stare. The bakery had never been so silent.

“What are you talking about?” you asked once you’d found your voice again, hoarse and reedy as it was.

Gladys’ face crumpled like the paper in her hands.

“I shouldn't have. I know I shouldn't have but he- The way he explained things, it… He had me change the names on the deeds. It felt like a good idea at the- It’s his. It’s all his.”

Tears filled Gladys’ eyes.

“It’s gone, love. It's gone. Alastair owns the bakery.

Master List

#john deacon #queen #john deacon x reader #john deacon reader #john deacon fic #john deacon smut #smut #john deacon x you

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readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure · 2 years

Text

An Unexpected Taste of Love: Chapter Six

Pairing: Darkling x Female Reader

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: You are a servant at the Grand Palace, but when a threat to the Second Army’s General leads to the King assigning him a taster, you are forced into a new role that just may be the starting point for a whole new journey.

Author’s note: I haven’t read the books but there may be a couple of small references to them that I have picked up from other sources (other fics, the grishaverse wiki, etc). Other than that, this fic is solely based on the TV show version of the Darkling.

Warnings: Near death experience, The Darkling is his own warning

Addition chapter note: According to the Grishaverse wiki, nichyevo is Ravkan for “nothing”.

And now the angst begins!

———————————————————

< Chapter Five | Masterlist | Chapter Seven >

The arrival of the Sun Summoner caused quite the commotion in the Little Palace. And for good reason. Finally there was real hope of a literal light at the end of the tunnel Ravka had been stuck in for centuries. And with the threat of the West separating, many were saying it could not have happened at a better time.

For you, though, the timing could not have been worse. You of course shared everyone’s joy and hope, but it was tainted somewhat by impatience and anxiety. For the past few days, all you had thought about was the kiss you had shared with Aleksander, and you had anxiously waited for him to return so you could talk with him about it and find out just what it meant for the two of you. But from the moment he had returned, he had been busy or surrounded by people, making it impossible for you to get a moment alone.

You understood the reasons why of course; you knew just how important this Sun Summoner, Alina Starkov, was… but as the day turned into night, your anxieties started to get the better of you. They even started to make you think that Aleksander was avoiding being alone with you on purpose.

You weren’t surprised when you weren’t summoned to his rooms that night. And you weren’t surprised when sleep just wouldn’t come to you. You spent the whole night tossing and turning until, finally, you gave up and decided to go for a very early breakfast.

The kitchens were empty when you got there, so you got to prepare and eat your meal in peace. Being so early, you even got the last bit of honey left in the servants’ rations to go with your oats. You were cleaning your bowl when Nathaniel, one of the servers, came in. It was clear he was preparing someone else’s meal… and you were pretty sure you knew whose it was.

‘You’re up early,’ he said as he rummaged through the food cupboards.

You hummed. ‘Couldn’t sleep. You must be on early morning breakfast duty.’

Nathaniel nodded. ‘Drew the short straw. I’m just glad the General prefers a simple breakfast.’

Bingo. And if Aleksander was having his meal before the sun came up, then he would most likely be in his rooms. This was your chance for a moment alone with him. A moment to talk.

‘I can take it to him if you like,’ you offered. ‘I have to test it anyway, and I’m here already. No point us both going.’

Nathaniel set the cutlery on the tray and sent you a grateful smile. ‘That would be amazing. Thank you. It’s going to be a busy day.’

You hummed in agreement and took the tray. Nathaniel had already returned to the food cupboards, sorting things and preparing for when the rest of the palace woke up wanting their meals. You quietly left him to it, your mind already working a mile a minute as you tried to think of what you would say to Aleksander.

The walk to his rooms seemed shorter than usual, and by the time you were knocking on his door, you still had no idea how to broach the subject of the kiss.

‘Come in,’ he called, and you took a slow breath before you entered the room. Maybe you would get lucky and he would be just as eager to talk about it as you were.

Aleksander was pacing the room, already dressed in his kefta and ready for the day. His eyebrows rose in surprise for a moment when he saw you, but he quickly schooled his features. ‘You can put it on the table,’ he said, nodding at the tray in your hands. His standoffishness had you pausing; he hadn’t spoken to you in such a detached way since your first day as his taster.

Not a great sign.

Still, you did as he said without complaint, and did your duty as taster. Every now and then Aleksander would look at you, but his expression remained unchanged. You wouldn’t go as far as to call it cold… but it was definitely distant. Maybe even a little impatient.

‘So,’ you said, trying not to sound as awkward as you felt. ‘Big day.’

Aleksander nodded but didn’t speak.

‘Do you think she’ll do all right?’ you asked, obviously referring to the Sun Summoner.

‘She’ll impress the King. I’ll make sure of it.’

This time it was you who nodded without saying anything. For a moment, you reconsidered bringing up the kiss. Aleksander obviously had other things on his mind and you didn’t want to make things harder for him… but you had to know.

‘Aleksander,’ you started, forcing yourself to look up at him. You were so nervous you were sure you were going to rip your sleeves with the way you were picking at them. ‘I know this isn’t the best time, but can we talk about what happened? The night before you left, I mean.’

Aleksander sighed, finally showing a bit of emotion. ‘I suppose we must,’ he said. His words did not fill you with hope.

When it was apparent that he wasn’t going to be the one to start the conversation, you gathered up your courage and asked the question that had burning within you for days.

‘What happens now? I know a proper relationship won’t be easy. It may not even be possible… but we kissed. That has to mean something for us. Doesn’t it? Even if it’s just mutual attraction.’

Aleksander turned away from you, leaning both hands on the map table in front of him. You only caught a glimpse of his expression, but it almost looked pained.

‘No,’ he said.

You blinked a couple of times, thrown by his short reply. ‘No?’

‘No, it doesn’t have to mean something. It was just a kiss. I was merely caught up in the moment. I’m sorry if you felt it was more.’

You had never had your heart broken before, but you were pretty sure this was what it felt like. Waves of sadness, disappointment, and embarrassment washed over you so fast that it felt like you were drowning. Tears pricked at your eyes but you held them back, not wanting to humiliate yourself further.

‘R-right. Of course. Sorry, I… I have to go.’ You didn’t wait for him to dismiss you, you just walked as quickly as you could towards the door.

You were almost out the room when Aleksander called your name. There was something in his voice that tugged at your heart, and your legs stopped despite yourself. But you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t.

‘I really am sorry,’ he said.

You believed him, but it was of little consolation. You weren’t angry with Aleksander. You couldn’t even blame him. Of course he didn’t have feelings for you. Powerful generals did not fall in love with lowly servants.

You felt like a fool for thinking otherwise.

----

Aleksander didn’t call on you to taste his lunch, and it wasn’t until that evening that you found out why. A brief summons to the Grand Palace gave you your answers. It seemed that Aleksander had told the King that the threat to his life had passed and, as the King put it, he didn’t need you anymore, so you had been reassigned.

Somehow, that hurt even more than hearing Aleksander say the kiss had meant nothing.

And you couldn’t even go back to your old room and your old duties in the Grand Palace where you wouldn’t be constantly reminded of Aleksander and could maybe get past this horrible feeling. The King had given the go ahead for Alina Starkov’s training and had made it clear that she was to be protected at all costs. Why send someone new to be her taster when you had so conveniently been made available?

So, come dinnertime, you once again stood at the back of the Little Palace dining hall, waiting for meals to be served. You spotted Alina easily, all you had to do was follow everybody’s curious glances.

Perhaps in another life, another time, you would have been honoured to protect the Sun Summoner – to do your duty to help your country however you could – but at that moment, all you felt was fear and heartache. All you could think about was how the poison had burned your throat a few weeks ago, and how Aleksander was no longer there to save you if it happened again.

Would he even care enough to save you if he was there? You hated yourself for questioning it, but the King’s words kept ringing in your head.

He doesn’t need you anymore.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts, that you didn’t even notice when the meals were being brought out, and you only just made it to Alina in time to stop her taking a bite.

‘Sorry, miss,’ you said, pulling her plate out of her reach. ‘I have to test it first to make sure it’s safe.’ You were a little harried from the rush over, but at least that hid your anxiety as you cut away a tiny piece of perfectly cooked meat.

It must have been a special dish, celebrating the start of Alina’s training.

‘And you have an otkazat'sya taster,’ said one of the women sitting next to Alina in awe. ‘They're normally reserved for the Royal Family. Even General Kirigan didn’t get one until actual threats were made against him.’

You bit back your grimace at being spoken about like you weren’t there and instead focussed on counting down the minute long wait to know if the food was poisoned. You didn’t feel any pain yet, but you knew that not all poisons worked the same. Some were slower.

‘Are you being punished for something?’ asked Alina, and it took you a second to realise she was talking to you. There was a kindness and worry in her eyes that had you relaxing a little.

‘Sometimes it feels like it,’ you said with a sad smile. You put down your fork and pushed the plate back to Alina. ‘It should be fine to eat. It’s very nice.’

‘Don't get used to this,’ the Grisha next to Alina told her. ‘General Kirigan insists that we eat peasant fare to keep us humble.’ The roll of her eyes and the haughty tone of her voice told you that it wasn’t working.

Still, you had a lifetime of ignoring those who looked down on you and the other “peasants”, so you did your best not to let her attitude bother you and instead focussed on your next task.

Your hands shook as you reached for Alina’s drink, memories flashing through your mind. Memories of pain and the certainty that you were going to die. Memories of Aleksander’s hand in yours and his worried shouts as he called for a Healer.

Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to sip the drink.

You almost cried in relief when nothing happened.

Job done, you were just about to get up and leave when Ivan’s voice sounded across the room. He was reading the day’s messages from the warfront, so you remained seated, not wanting to be disrespectful.

Ivan’s voice got angrier as he read out how many lives had been lost. He lowered the paper and glared in Alina’s direction. ‘The Fjerdans will be no match against a unified Ravka. Why are you here eating figs? You should be training every waking moment to tear down the Fold.’

Alina looked down at her lap, embarrassed and ashamed, and something in you snapped. You could already tell that Alina was not only a kind person, but one whom didn’t often get the chance for luxuries such as the figs on her plate; you weren’t going to sit there and let someone make her feel guilty for it. Not after the day you had had.

Jaw set, you stood and turned to glare at Ivan. ‘And how do you expect her to train if she is not well fed and rested?’ you asked, just shy of shouting. ‘She can hardly tear down the Fold if she exhausts herself to death.’

There were a couple of small gasps around the room, from Grisha and servants alike. You had to admit, you were a little shocked at your actions too, but there were only so many things you could handle in one day, and you had reached your limit.

To his credit, Ivan did not take long to recover from your outburst. ‘You dare speak back,’ he seethed, fists clenched around the paper he was still holding. ‘You are nichyevo.’

‘Ivan!’

Aleksander’s voice made you jump, and you whipped your head around to see him standing at the doorway, eyes hard and fixed on his second in command. ‘A word, please.’

Ivan sent you one more hateful look before he left the room. Before following, Aleksander glanced your way. You gave him a small but grateful smile, hope bubbling in your chest. He hadn’t totally abandoned you after all.

But then his eyes drifted past you and your face fell as you turned to see Alina giving him the same smile. It struck you then that maybe it wasn’t you he was there for.

#the darkling x reader #the darkling #darkling x reader #darkling x female reader #darkling x you #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader

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drinkthehalo · 2 months

Text

I saw the Boy Witch again last night.

It was the first time I'd seen Jordan Morley in the role since 2011, and the 13th anniversary of the opening of Sleep No More NYC.

It was magical. Jordan moves like a witch. Little movements of the hands, ways of floating through the space, supernatural.

Jordan finds so many moments of connection.

In May (?) 2011, Jordan's Witch drew me to sit with them at a little table in the lobby dining room, put a little milagro on a red string around my neck, and whispered, "Wear this always. It will protect you." (My memory of this is fuzzy, and I have other memories from this time that couldn't have been accurate, but I think this one is real.) I put the milagro on my bedroom mirror - it was a little hand - and it remained there for ten years, until I moved in 2021. Other trinkets came and went, but that one stayed, along with other milagros from Boy Witches, until they stopped giving them out a couple years later.

Why did I keep it there for so long? That moment of connection had been so beautiful. I knew it was a performance, I knew it wasn't "real," I knew it happened to whoever was in the right place at the right time multiple times per night. And yet somehow, in that brief moment, it had been so deeply moving and meaningful.

I felt it again last night. For the first time since my son was born, my back didn't hurt. I floated through the space like walking on air, like I was 13 years younger.

I've puzzled for so many years about why I am so drawn to the Boy Witch. Often I'd feel ashamed, wondering if it was something prurient, if I was just coming back to be flirted with by an attractive person who gets naked.

It came to me last night though, what's really going on. The Boy Witch is reaching out for connection. With these little moments of fun, and play, and teasing, and then these moments of great longing, of extended eye contact, of tears, of hugs.

He is a character who is cloaked in darkness, narratively an omen of tragedy and death, literally cloaked in the dark shadows of the McKittrick, and yet he reaches out through that darkness, always trying to find human connection. Last night I felt in those moments that he was seeing me as the Porter, as that embodiment of his lost love and humanity.

(Maybe the tragedy of the character is that he can never truly maintain the connection, that the tears aren't real, that those moments are ephemeral, that one moment he looks deep into your eyes and the next moment he spurns you. (Although I take the Boy Witch/Porter's recent NYE wedding as canon!))

What a miracle that this performer I've never spoken to outside of the show, and never thought I'd see in the role again, could reach out through the darkness of 13 years and create such beautiful moments of connection again.

#sleep no more #boy witch

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judjira · 1 year

Text

subway shenanigans

AN: this one's pretty funny HAHA i think i did a pretty good job with this one, also it kinda tempted me to make like an smau-style drabble?? idk how to do that but hey it sounds cool HAHA

pairing: dahyun/samotzu apartment au wc: 3871

One bright and beautiful sunny afternoon, when the birds were chirping at their brightest, when there was naught but a cloud in the sky, when the autumn breeze blew wonderfully, Dahyun woke up on the subway.

It wasn’t an odd occurrence, usually she dozed off on the subway anyway, thankfully for only a couple of minutes. It shouldn’t have been any different today.

In fact, there wasn’t anything different about today, except for the fact that maybe Dahyun just got a little less sleep than intended last night, too busy studying for an exam she had in the morning.

But, the exam was over, class was done for the day, and Dahyun could go home and surrender herself to sweet slumber.

Yawning as the train doors opened, she shuffled through the entering passengers, not unlike a zombie.

She swiped her card on the turnstile, muffling another yawn. Around her, the commuting hour had well and truly begun, with droves of people scrambling to get on the train.

With a sigh, she walked up the stairs that exited the subway.

And promptly froze in place.

This…was not the exit by her neighborhood.

Dahyun looked left. An unfamiliar road with cars zooming past her.

Dahyun looked right. A strange skyscraper she’d never even seen before.

Quickly opening her phone and scrolling through, Dahyun let out a thoughtful hum.

She was in a completely different city.

Checking the balance on her metrocard was a bit of a sobering experience, considering she had literally used up all of her credits to get to where she was.

And she couldn’t load up on any credits because she’d left her debit card at home, thinking she wouldn’t spend today.

That meant no spare change or bills either, all of them used for her lunch at the university.

“Well.” Dahyun muttered.

She was well and truly stranded.

-----

Me: hey jeong?

angelbaby 😇💙: yeah?

Me: uh im stuck in another city

angelbaby 😇💙: wat

-----

“Hm…my Lady is later than usual today.”

Sana tapped her foot on the subway floor. The resounding clack of her heels drew attention to her, but not moreso than her clothing.

Indeed, Sana dressed as she used to, in a velveteen black dress, with red lacing, edges, and bodice. A black bonnet adorned her head, similarly with red highlights. A red purse hung from her elbow, and to top it off, she held a black and crimson parasol in her hand, above her head. Even though she was underground, she could never be too safe.

Her ensemble drew looks from the surrounding commuters, a rather outdated but lovely look. But that wasn’t the only thing out of the ordinary.

“Lady Hirai…has she ever been this late before?”

By her side, a large black wolf whined, expressing uncertainty. A wide berth surrounded Momo, but not out of fear. The clicks of cameras going off was quite audible, but Momo paid no mind to it, instead shaking her head.

“Oh dear. I thought not.”

Suddenly, a ringing erupted from her purse, causing Sana to yelp slightly. Momo could only yip in return.

“…my word.”

Reaching into her purse, Sana took out a slim, piece of metal, her manicured fingers trembling slightly with every ring the metal made.

Her finger swiped, rather hesitantly, on the side of the metal that lit up.

“G-Greetings…this is Lady Minatozaki Sana. How do you do?”

“Sana, that’s cute every single time, but you know you don’t have to do that, right? You can just say hello.”

Until now, the wonders of the modern world never ceased to amaze. Sana’s cheeks colored as she spoke into the phone at an odd angle.

“My Lady…I just…it seems odd to be using this…cellular phone. I cannot see who I’m talking to.”

“Open your camera, silly.”

“M-my what?”

Sana yelped once more as the phone’s screen lit up, Momo cocking her head in confusion.

In the next instant, Dahyun’s face shone on the phone, wide but sleepy smile on her face.

“M-My Lady?”

“It’s the camera feature, Satang! If you press the camera button, I can see you too!”

Eyes squinting like an elderly person trying to configure a smartphone (which she one hundred percent was), Sana eventually managed to press the button, her eyes widening in delight.

“Oh! Hello, my Lady!”

Momo barked, tail wagging as Sana awkwardly lowered the camera to Momo’s level.

“Oh, you’re both there! Hi! Aw, you two look so cute.”

Panting excitedly, Momo licked the screen, causing a number of things to flash on the phone.

“Ack! Lady Hirai! Please don’t do that, the device is sensitive to water!”

Pulling the phone away from Momo’s disappointed whine, Sana cleared her throat.

“Ahem. My Lady, where might you be? It is past your usual hour of arrival.”

“Ah yeah, about that…I’m kind of…stranded.”

Sana blinked.

“Stranded?”

“Yeah, I’m about…two cities over. The one day our subway system’s on time, huh?”

“But…can you not just take the rail going back?”

“Yeeaaaah…I used up all my credits going here, and my debit card’s at home. Got no money on me either. How unlucky.”

“Oh dear.”

“No worries, though! You can just head back home, get some money from Jeong, then get over to me!”

Sana was forced to process all this in a few seconds.

“O-oh, um…I see."

“Yep! No worries! Oh, but um…try not to let the other girls know, alright? Especially Tzu, I’d hate to see what she’d do to the trains if she found out what happened.”

“I…um, my Lady?”

“Just keep a low profile! I’ve already texted Jeong, she’ll know how much to give you! Then, you just gotta buy a ticket going here, then we can buy a ticket for both of us, going back home!”

“Uh…alright, I—”

“You got all that?”

Sana glanced towards Momo, eyes flitting rather uncertainly. Momo could only yip in reassurance.

“I…yes. I understand, my Lady.”

“Alright, cool! Uh…not that I’m afraid or anything, but do you think you can come before it’s dark? College girl alone after dark…not so reassuring, haha.”

Sana’s eyes widened, only realizing now the importance of her task. Her Lady was in danger, in a foreign city with no one around to help. And only Sana (and Momo) could help her.

Sana could not fail.

“I will not let you down, my Lady.”

“Great! I’m counting on you, Satang! See you soon! I love you!”

The phone’s screen turned dark, indicating the call had ended.

Sana stuffed the phone into her purse, a visage of determination dawning on her face. She would not let her Lady down.

“Come, Lady Hirai. We must rescue our Lady posthaste.”

“Arf!”

-----

angelbaby 😇💙: got the money! gave it to the dahyun protection squad™

angelbaby 😇💙: minus jihyo cus she’s out rn

Me: nice!! thank u very much jeong

angelbaby 😇💙: yep! they left already, you’ll be home in no time

Me: wait

Me: did u tell tzu too?

angelbaby 😇💙: uh yeah? she’s part of the squad™

Me: fuck

angelbaby 😇💙: what’s wrong?

Me: jeong, its tzuyu

Me: remember the last time i got lost?

angelbaby 😇💙: oh

angelbaby 😇💙: oh fuck

Me: oh fuck indeed

angelbaby 😇💙: well, it can’t be that bad, can it?

-----

Where did things go wrong?

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but if you’d like to order a ticket, you can do so by the ticket machine. This stall’s for customer service.”

“I should smite you where you stand, mortal.”

Her Lady had only asked a few things from her, and Sana couldn’t even follow up on that.

“Ma’am, that is a threat, and I could call security on you for that.”

“Oh, it is indeed a threat. Father shall have you judged most vindictively.”

Don’t let Tzuyu know, she said. Keep a low profile, she said.

“Security? There’s another crazy lady here.”

“Crazy? You foolish, insignificant, worthless—”

“Ma’am, please follow us.”

“Unhand me! I should destroy this whole subway for misleading Kim Dahyun into—”

“Ma’am, please don’t force us. Just come quietly, and we’ll talk about this in a—”

“No! I am a Seraph! I demand to be treated as such!”

Oh dear.

“Lady Chou, I think it best if you were to just follow as these folks would wish you to.”

A stunned silence hung over this area of the subway, everyone’s attention turned to the beautiful, nobly dressed, and dazzling lady in heels.

And the wolf by her side.

“Bark!”

Tzuyu, eyes still somewhat angry, glanced at Sana.

“Minatozaki Sana, these men—”

“—are only trying to do their job. As are we, yes?”

Sana smiled, pleasantly, at the angel who had now halted in her place, looking around at the guards who were now sweating trying to pull at the seemingly young lady who refused to move.

Tzuyu finally relaxed, drawing a sigh of relief from Sana.

“…very well.”

That was the last Sana saw of Tzuyu (for now) as she was begrudgingly ushered off by a herd of guards that kept a five-foot distance away from her.

“I’m terribly sorry for that inconvenience, my friend can be rather…excitable.”

The subway worker at the counter sighed.

“Not to worry, ma’am. We get people like that every now and then. Now, what can I help you with?”

Sana inwardly shuddered. Now came the hard part.

“I would like a ticket to this city, please.”

The worker raised an eyebrow.

“That’s pretty far for this time of day.”

Sana stiffened, posturing up and holding her parasol at an angle.

“My business is my own.”

“Alright, alright. It’s my job to check these kinds of things, you understand. Especially with what happened with your friend.”

Sana chose not to answer that, instead keeping quiet. Inside, she was shuddering quite so. What was it with humans nowadays and their pervasive questions and nature?

“Here are your tickets, ma’am. Oh, and um…we don’t allow dogs that big on the train.”

The worker gestured to Momo, who was sniffing at some newspaper that was left on the ground.

“O-Oh?”

“Yeah, it might bother some other commuters. Even if your dog is pretty cute.”

At that, Momo’s head tilted up to the counter, tilting in confusion. The worker gushed.

“Aw.”

“I assure you, sir, she is very well domesticated, and she would not hurt a fly.”

Momo let out a yip of offense at the description.

“Regardless, ma’am, I have to insist.”

Sana inwardly cursed. She couldn’t just leave Momo here, who knows what could happen to her?

(In truth, Sana’s legs just shook at the thought of being alone in a train and having to suffer small talk with other commuters.)

“B-but, sir…”

In the next instant, all Sana heard was a deep growling that dropped her stomach to the floor.

Turning to Momo, Sana clenched up, as Momo’s silver eyes gleamed dangerously at the worker, deep and gritty growl raising the goosebumps on her neck.

And the worker’s, too.

“Ack…um, I meant…sure! Y-yeah, you can take your dog with you!”

And the next moment, Momo was back to panting excitedly, silver eyes gleaming with a rather apt satisfaction.

“…my thanks, then.”

Sana’s fingers snatched at the ticket, rushing off to the trains before anyone could say another word.

So much for low profile.

-----

Me: so

Me: why am i receiving a call from subway security

Me: saying that i need to come get a distressed young woman of whom i am listed as an emergency contact

angelbaby 😇💙: wow that’s pretty weird

angelbaby 😇💙: haha

Me: jeong pls

angelbaby 😇💙: okay okay, i’m sorry

angelbaby 😇💙: but at least the worst has passed, right?

Me: they just texted

Me: she’s disappeared

angelbaby 😇💙: …

angelbaby 😇💙: i swear to father i am going to murder that angel

-----

Yes, it was true.

Sana was guilty.

Of the most heinous crime imaginable.

“I am sorry, Lady Hirai.”

She spoke with such sorrow, one could only imagine that it was necessary, what she did.

But no, it was only out of self-preservation.

Sana was a selfish, cruel being.

And she deserved every bit of punishment for it.

With one last mournful glance towards Momo, she covered her face.

Momo let out a devastating howl at the treachery.

Never. Never would she forgive Sana for this slight against her.

And as a hand descended towards her face, Momo accepted her fate.

“Puppy!”

“She’s so big!”

“Her fur is so fluffy!”

“Now, now, children. One at a time.”

Momo let out another sorrowful whine as a child pressed their face against her fur.

“Big doggie!”

Holding tightly onto a metal rod affixed to the floor, Sana swallowed another gulp as the train hit another bumpy rail.

These confounded things were too bumpy, and every shake of the rail cabin had Sana fearing for her life, her skin turning shades paler than it already was.

These things were a deathtrap. And her Lady rode these everyday?

No wonder humans were so sturdy.

She winced at another of Momo’s whines, as another child grasped at her tail.

“Fluffy!”

Guilt wracked at her heart for giving Momo up to the children that occupied the train car before them.

She had to, otherwise, she would be forced to entertain their questions about her, and children were…

Well, they were a different beast entirely.

“Forgive me, Lady Hirai.”

With one last glance towards Momo’s silent suffering, Sana squeezed her eyes shut, praying that the train ride would soon end.

-----

Me: woah

angelbaby 😇💙: what’s up?

Me: there’s a lady talking to me

angelbaby 😇💙: really?

Me: yeah shes super pretty

angelbaby 😇💙: why not ask her out?

Me: bc im sleepy and i wanna go home jeong

Me: and im already dating like eight of u

Me: thats already a lot of effort

Me: and u guys r a handful

angelbaby 😇💙: 😔

Me: i dont mind

Me: u know i love taking care of yall

angelbaby 😇💙: 🥰

Me: also i think this woman isnt human so i would rly appreciate it if samotzu got here faster

angelbaby 😇💙: ???

-----

They finally made it. The same subway station their Lady had gotten off on.

Now, all they had to do was find her.

“Lady Hirai, do you think you could…”

Momo turned her head away, sniffing haughtily. Sana slumped.

“I already apologized, Lady Hirai. I had no other choice.”

Sana could only frown at the way Momo stayed at least 5 feet away from her. She sighed. Guess she expected this, anyhow.

“Even if you are mad at me, Lady Hirai, our Lady needs our help. And we can find her much faster if you use your sense of smell.”

Sana could use her abilities, yes, but she detested using them. Especially since she would have to use them to smell her Lady’s blood. And she wouldn’t want to lose control.

Momo, thankfully, acquiesced. She sniffed, rather reluctantly.

Her Lady had to be close by. It was getting close to dark, and who knew what horrors in the dark could get to her, without any of her tenants by her side.

Momo padded up the stairs that left the subway, and Sana followed in turn, being careful to prop up the parasol she had in hand.

As they rose the steps, the sunset gleamed over the skyscrapers of the foreign city, casting shadows over the street they exited onto.

Sana couldn’t help but gasp in amazement.

Human structures and cities in this age were so advanced, it was hard not to look on in wonder as Sana did, her eyes following the gleam of every window of every building on every street she saw. Towering over her, they were magnificent in their stature.

“Arf!”

Sana blinked out of her reverie, to see Momo rounding the corner of an alley by the subway exit. She quickly made haste to join her.

Only to feel her blood chill as her eyes laid on the scene.

“Oh, you go to this university? That’s crazy, me too!”

“Really? Wow, it’s a small world. What course did you graduate from?”

“Applied Physics and Material Sciences!”

The Lady of the Sanctuary was being harassed by a strange lady.

Sana tensed at the same time Momo started growling, but it seemed that the Lady didn’t notice.

“Oh, sheesh, that’s a quota course, isn’t it?”

The woman, tall in high heels and dressed in a blazer and slacks, pressed glasses up the bridge of her nose, chuckling.

“Yeah, I got in on a director’s list scholarship.”

“Wow, you must be really smart.”

How dare this woman take advantage of the Lady’s socially acceptable people skills?

Sana felt her fangs bare, restricting herself from snarling out loud. Instead, she cleared her throat, and the Lady finally turned to her, eyes brightening.

“Oh, Satang, Momoring! You’re here!”

Momo, ever the more relaxed, immediately stopped snarling, instead trotting over to the Lady with a bright gleam in her eyes and tail wagging.

“Oh, a dog! How cute!”

The strange woman crouched down, beckoning Momo over, but to no avail, as the wolf’s attention was solely on the Lady.

“We came…as soon as we could, my Lady.”

Eyes still glancing distrustfully at the woman, Sana allowed a smile to grace her features. The visage of her Lady smiling at her would never fail to bring her joy.

“Cool. I’m pretty tired already. Oh, thanks for keeping me company!”

The Lady smiled towards the woman, only to have the woman politely bow in return.

“It was my pleasure. It’s not every day I get a conversation as enlightening as this.”

“Thanks anyway, Ms. Kang.”

“Just Seulgi, please. Ms. Kang makes me fee old.

The aforementioned ‘Seulgi’ turned her smile to Sana, lips only mysteriously curving up further.

“Is this your friend?”

Sana took that opportunity to step forward, eyes narrowing at the stranger.

“Indeed. My name is Minatozaki Sana.”

The woman’s eyes widened immeasurably, and for some reason, so did her smile. Briskly walking over to her, she grabbed Sana’s hand.

If it were any other moment, Sana would have lashed out, fangs bared and hands ready to kill.

But this woman simply shook her hand. With quite the amount of force.

“What an honor it is to meet you, Lady Minatozaki. I’ve heard many things!”

Momo simply tilted her head, mirroring Sana’s confusion.

“Then this must be Lady Hirai! Oh, what a wonderful coincidence!”

Seulgi grinned with no small amount of amusement, turning to the Lady with vigor.

“These are your tenants, then? Oh, how wonderful!”

The confusion seemed to be apparent on Sana’s face, turning from the Lady to Seulgi interchangably, since Seulgi could only grin at Sana reassuredly.

“Not to worry, Lady Minatozaki. I have been watching over Dahyun ever since I felt her exit the subway. You have my word she is unharmed!”

The Lady took that time to step forward and put a hand on Seulgi’s shoulder gently.

“Thank you, Ms. Kang, but Sana here’s a little…jittery with strangers.”

Sana couldn’t help but agree, as Seulgi’s grip on her hand was now beginning to ache.

“Oh, where are my manners?”

Seulgi let go of Sana’s hand to bow, once towards Sana, once towards Momo. As she finished, she flashed both of them a great big smile.

“My true name is Callisto. I watch over this area of the city, along with a few of my own.”

The name sounded Greek, yet it rang no bells in Sana’s mind. Until the Lady decided to help her.

“She’s a shapeshifter, like Chaeng. Also a constellation, somehow, but what matters is I’m safe.”

Looking between Seulgi’s everglowing grin and the Lady’s weary smile, Sana could not be more confused.

But then, this was the Lady. And nothing ever normal happened to her.

With Momo’s best attempt at a shrug in wolf form, Sana resigned herself to her confusion. Her fangs receded, instead gracing Seulgi with an uncertain smile.

“…you have my thanks then, Lady Kang.”

Seulgi nodded, her head shaking so fast it could have popped off.

“Of course! Anything for the Sanctuary. Perhaps, you might like to visit our own? It’s not as safe, and our wards aren’t as specialized, but—”

Oh dear. This was what Sana feared this whole time on this journey.

Conversation.

Thankfully, the Lady decided to intervene.

“Thank you, Ms. Kang, but maybe another time? We’re quite tired from today.”

Seulgi did not seem deterred by the rebuttal.

“Of course! Let me know when you do want to pass by, though! Our haven’s always welcome to the Lady of the Sanctuary and her tenants!”

Finally, comfort flooded back into Sana’s system as she felt the Lady’s hand slip into her own, fingers interlacing naturally with hers.

“Thanks again, Ms. Kang. We’ll see you around.”

The shapeshifter waved her hand excitedly, glasses on the verge of falling off of her face.

Momo padded to their side as they turned to leave.

“Whew. Extroverts. Can’t stand them.”

Sana could not help but agree.

“How was the subway?”

Terrible. Disastrous. Horrid. Never again.

Momo didn’t need to hear Sana say anything to shudder terribly, still glaring at Sana out of the side of her eye.

“It was…fine, my Lady.”

Thankfully, Dahyun didn’t seem to catch on, instead smiling and squeezing Sana’s hand, to which Sana let out a quick sigh of relief.

“That’s great. Let’s go home?”

This was quite the adventure. Not to say that Sana would have ever liked to experience it again, but knowing that she had done her job, braved the subway system, talked to strangers, and rescued her Lady from darkness was enough for her to be satisfied.

“We shall.”

Yet, there was still something she couldn’t help but feel like she forgot—

The flapping of wings.

“Kim Dahyun!”

“Oh, hello there!”

“Who are you?!”

“Oh, my name’s Kang Seulgi, I’m an IT specialist in—”

“Are you the one who kept Kim Dahyun here against her will?!”

“Me? Oh, I don’t think so, I was merely keeping her company as your companions were—”

“This is unacceptable! This city is far too large to navigate!”

“Oh, well, if you look at the subway maps, then I’m sure you can find—”

“Curse the blasted subway!”

“Oh my, you’re getting quite bright, that hurts my eyes a little bit—”

Sana sighed.

No, there was no such thing as a normal day as a tenant of the apartment.

-----

Me: otw home now

angelbaby 😇💙: yaaaay

Me: whats the account for the apartment again

angelbaby 😇💙: why?

Me: tzu kind of blew up a subway station

Me: no one got hurt thankfully

Me: but we kind of have to pay for damages

angelbaby 😇💙: …

angelbaby 😇💙: how much

Me: uh

Me: i think its better if i tell you in person

angelbaby 😇💙: …

angelbaby 😇💙: tell tzuyu she’s not getting any hugs or kisses tonight

Me: okay yeah that did it shes quiet and rly sad now

angelbaby 😇💙: good

Me: do i get hugs and kisses

angelbaby 😇💙: normally i’d say yes, but i told you to go to sleep early last night and you didn’t, so no

Me: ):

angelbaby 😇💙: maybe just one

Me: (:

#ask #apartment au #dahyun x sana #saida #dahyun x momo #dahmo #dahyun x tzuyu #datzu #twice fic #twice fanfic

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