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idyllic-affections · 9 months

Text

achilles heel.

summary. the ninth harbinger takes on an... unexpected responsibility.

trigger & content warnings. references to poverty, [name] is a thief (at first), slightly ooc pantalone in some parts.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, slight angst, hurt/comfort. pantalone & child/young teen!reader, arlecchino & child/young teen!reader. 3.4k words. they/them pronouns for reader. this fic is divided into six drabble-like sections.

author's thoughts. inspired by a silly conversation @aroacenezha and i had. i dad-ify this man a little too much but you know what? i will keep doing it idc he's so dad-able. this post is structured differently than my usual content but i think it's kind of cool!!!

i. an unexpected guest ♡

Of all the possible unexpected things that could await the Regrator in his Snezhnaya residence—one of them, at least; the amount of properties he owned was certainly more than what one could count on both hands—this was... most definitely among one of the more shocking.

He was speechless, really.

"Please do humor me. How did you manage to get in?"

Of all the unexpected things that could await the Regrator in his his home, in his office of all places... thievery in and of itself wasn't unexpected; rather, it was the fact that standing in front of him was undoubtedly a child no older than fourteen. Not only that, but additionally the fact that they were actually standing in his office. They had not been caught. A child, no older than fourteen, possessed more skill than all of the others in the past who had made poor attempts to steal from him.

"You need better security"—they shrugged, making him somewhat annoyed at their nonchalance—"I really thought it would be hard to rob the richest man on Teyvat. It was harder to rob Lady Ningguang. I actually had to abandon that job, you know? Couldn't get to the Jade Chamber."

Again, he was left absolutely speechless.

Being compared to Ningguang made a bitter taste settle in his mouth. He made a mental note to drastically improve the quality of his security.

"You..."

"What? It's not my fault all of your agents are incompetent."

They weren't wrong, he supposed. His agents surely could do better at their jobs. Their smugness still irritated him, though. "Do you routinely rob the wealthy?"

They scoffed. "You all are hoarding wealth that should never have been yours in the first place. Archons forbid I steal from wicked people who couldn't possibly care less about anyone but themselves... Get over yourself. Seriously."

He genuinely couldn't tell if they had no sense of danger or if they simply had that sheer amount of audacity by nature. Though, admittedly, he did have to respect the fact that they managed to sneak in completely undetected. If not for his sudden appearance, they most likely would have gotten away with it. Their audacity did irk him a little, but... that was also something he had to respect. It was impressive in its own right. No average Snezhnayan child would so much as dream of talking to a Harbinger the way they did oh-so effortlessly

It did occur to him, however, that they did not look well-off; they were not the average Snezhnayan child.

Their hair looked as if it had been haphazardly and unevenly chopped off so that it was too short to become tangled (he did recall doing such a thing himself—at the lowest point in his life, taking care of his hair was a useless endeavor, solely because it did not help better his chances of survival). They were clothed decently enough in layers adequately thick to keep themselves from freezing which, indeed, was also something he understood on a nauseously personal level.

Most of the mora he managed to earn in his unfortunate youth was invested in... not freezing to death. Through them, he was forced to once again acknowledge his past, a past he endeavored to forget about because it made him feel pathetic.

...Or maybe it made him feel like an impostor in his wealth?

What kind of sick twist of fate had the Archons cursed him with, forcing him to think about such trivial things?

He should punish them. He should arrest them. He should send them off to Dottore and never spare them another thought ever again, even, but... somehow, he didn't want to. Much as he may have acted as if he couldn't possibly know why, he did.

The brat reminded him sickeningly of himself.

"Where do you think you're going?"

They were half out of his window when he called out to them, having taken advantage of his pondering.

"To sell what I've taken?"

He almost rolled his eyes. Almost, but didn't. That would have been immature and inelegant of him. "Come here."

They would have just left, but truthfully, it would not have been a smart move on their behalf. The only reason they had not yet been caught and apprehended was simply because no-one had spotted them in the first place. Not a single one of their 'victims' had managed to catch a glimpse of them. Now that a Harbinger had seen them...

They figured it was in their best interests to avoid being pursued by anyone with that much power, especially by someone like Pantalone. A man with that much political influence was dangerous.

"Show me what it is that you've taken."

They did.

A letter opener, a few picture frames... Nothing significant or extremely expensive (though, to them, anything at all from his office would likely be of high value), which is what left Pantalone completely perplexed. He honestly hadn't even noticed that anything was missing from his office when he had first entered.

Perhaps that was what made them so skilled, combined with their capacity to avoid being seen.

"Out of everything you could have taken," he mused, "you chose... these inconsequential items?"

"They're inconsequential to you, maybe. To me and to my buyers, things like this are worth a ton. Whether I'll actually be given what is owed is... uh. More or less likely. I don't know, I just— can I leave yet?"

"Not so fast, dear." He smiled, tilting his head slightly. They thought he somewhat resembled a fox.

"...What? Are you seriously going to arrest me for something so little?"

"Nothing of the sort. In fact... I have a proposal of sorts for you."

ii. the proposal in question. ♡

"You know, when someone says something ominous like 'I have a proposal for you'," they began, twirling a defiant strand of their now neat hair—which the Harbinger had... shockingly, taken upon himself to cut properly rather than paying someone else to do it—around their finger, "they generally don't mean... all this."

"Don't be difficult." He pinched their cheek like a scolding (or affectionate, but the nature of his gesture was debatable, given the fact that he tended to hide his thoughts behind a skilled mask of eerie calmness that they could only imagine took years to perfect) grandparent might. "Let the tailor take your measurements."

"Ugh... fine. I don't even see why I'm doing this," they murmured, gingerly raising their arms when the tailor politely prompted them to.

"Oh? Did I not say? My apologies. I intend for you to become a permanent resident of my household."

Silence.

"...So you're adopting me."

"That is one way to look at it, yes."

"Oh. I was... um." They paused, blinking a few times as if in an attempt to dispel the bewilderment they felt. "I was kidding. I didn't expect that response."

He only smiled.

They wondered if they would ever learn to understand that ambiguous smile.

iii. another unexpected guest ♡

Between teaching the newest member of his house noble etiquette, conversational skills, and other important skills they would need to master, Pantalone had grown unexpectedly fond of the little orphan he took in.

He should have been annoyed by how often they questioned his authority, by how unruly they were...

Of course, he wasn't. It was endearing and even refreshing in its own way—when was the last time anyone had dared to speak so freely and honestly and daringly to him? The respect rooted in fear that his status as a Harbinger gave him became dull after a while.

It really shouldn't have surprised him that he had become so fond of the little one who did not fear speaking in the most unfiltered way to him.

However... he did wonder if his fondness was causing him to spoil them just a little too much.

"...What is that?"

They grinned brightly. In their arms, a small arctic fox sat contentedly, strangely unbothered by the fact that a random child decided to pick it up and bring it home. It seemed to snuggle further into them and their warmth, in fact.

"It's an arctic fox!"

"My dear, that is a wild animal."

"And?"

Silence. Pantalone was the first to break it:

"I have the ability to acquire any animal you so desire of only the highest pedigree," he began, "the best available on the market—of course, assuming it could survive in an extreme climate such as this one—and yet, you chose to bring home a little street fox?"

They pouted, lower lip jutting out in an exceedingly childish way that he would have chided them for had it not just been himself, them, and the various Fatui guards stationed around (who all knew far better than to say anything about whatever they saw or heard within their Lord's residence) present. "Don't be mean. I came from the street too, you know... look at her! Look at this little creature! Say hi."

If it had been anyone else demanding such childish things of him, he would be appalled... but he supposed since it was them, he could tolerate it. He leaned down slightly.

"Hello."

Much to his apparent surprise, the fox barked back at him, to which they giggled.

"Soo, can I keep her?"

The silence returned for a brief second. Then, the Harbinger sighed deeply—it was undoubtedly comparable to the kind of sigh an exasperated parent might let out. As if he wasn't already going grey enough without this child around...

He caved to their whims regardless.

He was encouraging a bad habit, yes, but they looked so happy with that little fox. He could only hope that, in the future, they would not bring home any other wild animals.

"Very well, but I expect you to learn how to take care of her properly, otherwise I will be forced to let her go."

iv. old habits die hard.

The first event they ever had to attend with the Regrator was an annual event hosted by the Tsaritsa herself.

Much as they weren't exactly... keen on going, Pantalone insisted—he had claimed it was for publicity's sake. The public would favor him more if he was seen as the caretaker of a child. They supposed they couldn't really argue with that, but the thought of being used as a device to build public rapport was uncomfortable at best and nauseating at worst.

(He was very adamant on reassuring them that he didn't take them in solely for such a shallow reason. Though... he still did not tell them why exactly it was that he chose to take them in, which admittedly did make them doubt the sincerity of his words.

They decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, given how kind he tended to be with them.)

They absolutely hated being surrounded by so many pompous rich people who only ever turned a blind eye to the struggling of every low-income family in Snezhnaya. How these people could live with themselves, hoarding the majority of the wealth of an entire nation, they would never know nor understand.

(What made Pantalone any different, they sometimes wondered?)

However...

They were all viable targets, even including the other Harbingers present.

Columbina... there was nothing they could steal off of her without getting caught, and the idea of making a scene, especially one involving the third Harbinger herself, made their stomach churn anxiously. She was not an option.

Dottore... stealing off of him was unwise. They wondered if Pantalone would lose favor in them if they did. The Doctor, like the Damselette, was not an option, despite the many things they could take off his person without him ever knowing that something was missing (probably; they weren't truly sure if they'd like to test that theory).

Arlecchino... her silver hairclip was awfully pretty. Surely she wouldn't miss it? She didn't like the Regrator much anyways, so—

"Dear."

"Oh. Um." They cleared their throat, embarrassedly looking anywhere but at him. They tried their best not to pick at the threads of their sleeves. "Sorry. Force of habit."

He hummed, gloved hand raising up to rub reassuring circles on their back. The bubbling anxiety and discomfort in their chest subsided slightly.

"Come along. There is nothing to be afraid of, and please... do not take anything off of anyone. Leave the Knave and the other Harbingers be."

Of course, upon passing Arlecchino, they did end up stealing her hairclip regardless.

Though annoyed, she said nothing of it, because even though their audacity to steal something from a Harbinger at an event such as that one agitated her beyond belief...

It seemed to make them happy, and she didn't see them take anything from anyone else the entire night. She decided that she would let it slide just this one time.

(She also took it upon herself to secure it in their hair—which had grown longer and healthier ever since the Ninth took them in—after the event, claiming that it was a gift from her...

...And that, if they knew what was good for them, they would not dare to pull another foolish stunt like that ever again.)

v. achilles heel.

"What is it that plagues your mind?"

"Huh?" They blinked, sitting up a little straighter in their place on one of the soft sofas in the Ninth's personal library. Most of their time was spent in there, absorbing all the knowledge that they didn't have access to earlier on in their life. "What do you mean?"

"You've been withdrawn lately," Pantalone said, approaching them slowly as if they were some kind of skittish animal. He tenderly caressed their cheek upon seeing no signs of discomfort. "Have I done something to drive you away?"

"...No," they admitted quietly, looking outside of the large window and watching the snow fall. It looked... peaceful, but they knew from experience what it was really like out there. They gnawed on their lower lip, searching for a way to word their concerns without sounding ungrateful. "I just... ugh, it's nothing. I don't know. I don't know how to say it without it sounding... bad."

He raised an eyebrow. His hand moved away from their face, now stroking their hair calmingly. "You speak to me so freely all the time. Why the sudden change of heart, hm?"

He did have a point there. They never once thought twice about the way they spoke to him up until that point.

A sigh left their lips, and they shifted their gaze to meet his.

The way their eyes glistened with the sheen of unshed, frustrated tears made Pantalone feel a sort of fatherly protectiveness that he wasn't sure he should have been able to feel, and yet... their expression flipped some kind of switch in him.

"Why did you take me in?"

"I—"

"Wait, I'm not done," they interrupted. He went quiet. "What benefit do I provide to you? What kind of rich guy sees a random orphaned thief and decides to take them in? Who does that? No rich person I've met before you, that's for sure. People like you don't care about those of us barely scraping by in poor conditions, so why—"

If it were anyone else Pantalone was speaking to, his tone would have been harsh and commanding, but... that was how it always had been with them. They could get away with things that others could not. They were always shown a side of him that others were not. Perhaps that made them the Regrator's one single Achilles heel, and if that were the case? So be it.

"Stop. Listen."

His tone came out very gently. It was more akin to a comforting hush than a demand. He kneeled down to their height—never once had they seen him voluntarily get so close to the ground. Most nobles didn't, and yet, here he was. With his ungloved knuckles, he wiped away the tears that they hadn't even noticed were beginning to fall.

"I was you once, little one."

"I don't believe you," they sniffled.

"You should. I was not born into this life. My bloodline is not noble and my birth name holds no significance," he mused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind their ear. "I also used to steal from people, you know."

Their hair fell over their shoulders, to which they quickly raised a hand to the back of their head. The clip—once belonging to Arlecchino—was gone, now settled in their caretaker's open palm.

"H— huh?!"

"Admittedly, I haven't done so in quite some time, so what you saw just then was moreso the skills I've learned as a Harbinger than my thievery skills."

He kindly secured their hair back once again.

"Ah... I never would have guessed."

"That is the point." He nodded, going on to tease: "You do very much remind me of the younger version of myself... you have quite the awful amount of attitude, though. I was never so difficult."

They huffed, patting their face dry with their palms, to which he chuckled.

"Hmph, I doubt that. I'll bet you were worse than I am."

"Whatever you say, dearest."

He was, but he had no plans of telling them that, of course.

vi. enrollment.

"My orphans seem to like you, [Name]."

They smiled up at Arlecchino from their place on the ground, one of the much younger children sleeping against their thigh. Their hand absently toyed with the child's hair in a manner that seemed akin to that of a loving older sibling. "I like to think they do. They're lucky, then, because I happen to quite like them, too!"

The ghost of a smile graced her lips at that.

"You know," she mused calmly, placing a firm hand on their head. They squeaked slightly at the force behind her display of affection. "You are publicly viewed as the Regrator's child."

"What?!" they gasped, a mix between shocked and embarrassed. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but... "Wait, people are saying that? Actually?"

"They are," she confirmed, "but I mention this for one very particular reason: do you know how to defend yourself, [Name]?"

"Somewhat, but not entirely," they admitted. "I learned a lot in my time... um, wandering, shall we call it..? Anyway. I can defend myself, but not really well. Not at all well enough for the place I've found myself in, I think."

She nodded in understanding at that.

"Have you considered enrolling in the House of Hearth?"

"I've thought about it. Would I even qualify, though..? I'm technically not an orphan..."

"No, but consider it a favor from me. You would get an education of equal rigor to Snezhnayan private schools, as well as learning how to protect yourself."

"...You would do that for me, Arle?"

Her cheeks tinted red at that, and she groaned, lightly pushing them away by the head. They giggled at her annoyance.

"Don't call me that"—she coughed into her fist, trying her best to mask the good-natured embarrassment such a nickname caused her—"but... I would. You need to learn how to handle yourself."

She then got on one knee, meeting their gaze with intensity that made them a bit nervous. Both her hands sat firmly on their shoulders.

"What you need to understand, however, is that you will automatically be drafted into the Fatui at your graduation. I do not believe that the Regrator would let you out of his sight at your young age, so you needn't worry about being separated from him, but... you will be exposed to wicked things."

"...But I need to do this for my safety, right?"

"You don't 'need' to do anything," she clarified. "I would advise it, though. You are an annoying little brat, but I—as well as the Ninth—would loathe to see anything happen to you."

"Well... I don't mind enrolling."

"Oh?"

"I really don't mind," they repeated, offering her a pensive smile. "I've already seen pretty rough things, and, I mean... I know what you all do for a living. I'm not oblivious, Arlecchino. Any kid born and raised in Snezhnaya would know."

"I didn't think so," she assured. "No, I never once believed you to be oblivious... that much, I agree with. Childhood innocence does not thrive in this nation."

"You're right. It doesn't."

A comfortable silence settled for a moment. Arlecchino's battle-hardened hands were a calming force upon their shoulders.

"...Soo, how exactly are we planning on convincing Pantalone to let this happen?"

"Ah." She went quiet. "...That is the question."

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! taglist: @m1shapanda, @kaichuuu, @zeldadou, @aroacenezha (aka the beloved moot who inspired this fic. say "thank you maji" everyone 🫶🫶🫶🫶 /hj /lh)

#aphelion writes 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #pantalone x reader #arlecchino x reader #platonic fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers x reader

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shellshocklove · 1 year

Text

conversation | peter parker

pairing: college!peter parker x college!female!reader

summary: peter parker is in the friendzone. and it sucks. especially when the girl he’s in love with is dating his best friend. smack dab in the middle of a bad situation peter struggles to keep his feelings at bay when the girl of his dreams comes to him for advice about her failing relationship.

warnings: i guess post!nwh, swearing, cheating, peter pining for reader, everyone being a bad guy, smut 18+ (minors dni!!!), unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4.1k

a/n: um my first peter fic! it’s based on the song conversation by joni mitchell. listen to it, or don’t, i’m not your mother. i said i was going to stop posting writing, but i have “i must create or i’ll go crazy” disease so... (i’m still not a writer)

main masterlist / ao3

She comes to him for conversation, for comfort, for consultation. But Peter wished she came to him for something else.

He remembers the first time he saw you. How he’d thought his heart had stopped for a second, forgetting how to do its most basic function. How could someone look so effortlessly beautiful? How could a voice sound so sweet while asking such a mundane question?

“Is this seat taken?”.

“N-n-no!” he’d manage to stutter out, his cheeks flushed red and completely taken aback by the fact that you were talking to him. You’d given him a playful smile before seating yourself next to him.

Did he believe in love at first sight? Yes, after seeing you for the first time, Peter started to think he did.

Meeting you in a chemistry class, Peter thought, must be the universe’s take on a bad joke, because… you two had chemistry. Everything just felt so easy when he hung out with you. His smile always wide, cheeks hurting. Conversation flowing freely, or engulfed in a silence, that was always comfortable. The only thing though, even though you two had chemistry, you weren’t any good at it. Actually, you were barely passing.

And that’s how your time began. Sharing sodas after class, in a rundown diner, over chemistry homework. You’d seen how Peter had gotten straight A’s on all his tests, and one day you’d carefully asked if he would be so kind as to help you. Those were the actual words you’d used. If Peter would be so kind. As if he wouldn’t have done anything you’d ask without a second thought. Okay, maybe not anything. He doesn’t think he’d murder someone if you asked… or maybe… if you were in danger and it was the only way–

“Peter!” you laughed, waving your hand in front of his face, “Are you even listening to me?”.

“Huh!?” he hummed, a familiar warmth spreading through his cheeks as your laugh rang through his ears.

“You zoned out a little,” you said, scrunching up your nose. Oh god he loved when you did that– you looked so cute.

“Oh! S-sorry” he stuttered out, still embarrassed that you’d caught him daydreaming, “What were you saying?”.

“Ehm… just forget it” you looked away, waving your hand, “It was just something Harry did again”.

His name coming from your mouth felt like a bucket of ice-cold water over Peter’s head. Harry Osborn, your boyfriend, and Peter’s roommate.

As much as Peter loved Harry, he didn’t treat you well. This was usually how your conversations during your study dates would go, once it was clear that after a few hours of studying, you were done with chemistry for the day.

You’d usually bring up small things that Harry had done that hurt you or annoyed you. And Peter would be tasked with giving you advice, or comfort, or consolation. You always apologized after, for bringing Harry up in conversation, but Peter always brushed it off telling you it was fine. But it wasn’t. It always reminded him about his own failures. How if he hadn’t been such a pussy at Betty’s party, all those months ago, and told you how he felt, this wouldn’t just be a study date, but a real date. The problem was just that Harry had beat him to it that night. In Harry’s defense, he didn’t know about Peter’s feelings about you. No one did.

You’d disappeared at some point in the night, and Peter figured you’d gone home. Turns out you did go home, but not to your own apartment, but to Peter’s and Harry’s instead. A fact Peter didn’t know until the morning after when he’d bumped into you in the kitchen, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight of you in nothing but Harry’s shirt.

Peter’s dreams weren’t completely crushed at that moment. He still harbored hope for you. Harry was quite the whore (Harry’s own words by the way, not Peter’s), and this wasn’t the first time Peter ran into one of his hook-ups in the kitchen after a night out. In Peter’s mind this was only a one-night stand. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Not soon after, you started showing up at the penthouse, not to hang out with Peter, but with Harry instead.

Peter tried his best to not be disappointed when you came over. But the tiny spark of hope he had about one day calling you his, soon fizzled out and died. Every time he saw you and Harry kissing, holding hands; he knew nothing would ever happen between the two of you.

Trying to forget you, he started busying himself with classes and patrol, seeing you less and less. He’d run into you sometimes when you were visiting Harry. Only a short “Hello” leaving Peter’s lips as he’d retire to his room before Harry could see how much Peter wanted you.

Back in his room, Peter would convince himself that you and Harry being together was the best thing for you. If you were with Peter, he’d only end up hurting you. You deserve the very best, and Peter knew he would never be good enough. He was a fucking mess most of the time. He was always late to things, never on time, he couldn’t afford to treat you to nice things like Harry did, and his double life could make you a target, which was the last thing he wanted.

Peter kept his distance the best he could, but as time went on it got harder and harder to convince himself that Harry treated you the way Peter thought you deserved. Peter knew Harry wasn’t being honest with you, and it killed him to keep his mouth shut. The bubbling anger simmering under the surface every time he’d see a girl who wasn’t you, slip out of Harry’s bedroom. Then like a curse, a few moments later, his enhanced hearing enabled him to eavesdrop on yours’ and Harry’s conversations on the phone. Harry would always apologize for being too busy to come over and hang out. And with the softest voice, you’d let Harry off the hook every time. Leaving the penthouse, to go on patrol after nights like that, Peter admitted, his punches hit a little harder.

Your relationship tasted especially bitter in Peter’s mouth whenever Harry would throw parties at the penthouse. A hand over your shoulder or around your waist, never leaving your side, showing you off like you were a prized possession and not a human being. Was this the final straw for Peter? Seeing yet another way Harry didn’t treat you as well as he should; that had made him not want to make up an excuse, like he normally would, when you’d ask him if he wanted to study at the diner.

Peter had kept his distance from you for the last six months. Tried to stay in his lane. To turn the other eye. To fold his feelings for you in on itself like a piece of paper so many times he hoped they’d disappear. But one look at you again, sitting across from him at your regular booth at the diner, and his origami-ed feelings had sprung up again like a blooming flower in spring.

“I just really wanted to see him, you know? I’ve been so stressed about this chemistry exam– that I know I’m gonna fail by the way, and work’s been kicking my ass– and I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend… but he canceled on me three times this week”.

Or maybe the final straw, for Peter, was the way your whole body deflated in front of him. Peter could feel his heart break in real time watching you turn your head away, hiding the wobble of your bottom lip. And the worst part of it all was that Peter knew why Harry had canceled on you. He’d been over at someone else’s place. But Peter knew he couldn’t tell you that.

Carefully he reached out his hand, brushing it over the back of yours as you rested it on the table. “I’m sure Harry’s just been busy! I know he’s got his exams in a few weeks, and he hasn’t been home as much lately” Peter said, trying his best to make you feel better.

You watched your hands for a moment, how Peter brushed his hand over yours trying to sooth you the best he could. Then you turned your hand, wrapping it around his in a gentle hold. The soft touch of your warm hand, making Peter stop breathing for a second.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “you’re probably right, Peter”. You tried your best to smile, but Peter could see your sorrow written all over your face, breaking Peter’s heart even more.

“You’re a good friend Peter!” you started, “I’m so sorry for always talking about Harry, but it’s just that you know him so well, so it’s easier to talk about him with you– and you always manage to say the right thing to make me feel better” you looked down at your intertwining hands.

“It’s almost scary how easily you can make me feel better Peter– it’s like you have superpowers or something” you said, a chuckle escaping your lips.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you about my superpowers?” Peter quipped, trying his best to cheer you up even more. A smile spread across your face as you shook your head.

“My powers are actually being very good at chemistry– AND knowing how to make my friend who’s failing her chemistry class feel better”.

A giggle left your lips at Peter’s joke as you let out a sarcastic “haha, very funny”, playing along.

If only you knew though. How he wished that this mess could be fixed with his actual superpowers. How he wished he could just put on the suit and save you from Harry. How he wished he could free you.

Landing safely on the rooftop of Harry’s penthouse, Peter looked around for his backpack he’d hid with his clothes. He’d managed to hide his double life from Harry so far, and he planned on it staying that way, which meant changing in and out of his suit crouched behind a rooftop vent, every day.

He was back earlier than usual, cutting tonight’s patrol short as it had turned out to be a quiet night. He’d stopped a man stealing a lady’s purse, and after he’d helped a man, who he was 90% sure had dementia, find his way back to his apartment. After that he’d just swung around the city for a few hours. At sunset he’d found a good spot at the top of this new skyscraper they were building downtown. His feet dangled off the scaffolding as he watched the sky turn every shade of pink and orange, before the sun dipped below the horizon.

Back home, on the roof, Peter felt the soft touch of the spring night against his naked skin. He quickly changed out of his suit before stuffing it back into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder before he headed towards the rooftop door. With a light bounce in his step, Peter made his way down the stairs, his head filled with thoughts about all the studying he needed to do before his exam next week. Slipping through the front door he’s so distracted by his own thoughts he almost doesn’t hear it. The sounds of muffled moans accompanied by Harry’s bedpost hitting the wall.

But he does hear it, and images of how sad you’d looked earlier at the diner start flickering through Peter’s head. Before any rational thoughts can stop him, he’s fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He’s had enough. His fingers work on their own accord, pulling up your contact.

Peter hi, um are you at the penthouse right now?

He knew you weren’t, but he figured this was the best way to bring it up. Taking long strides across the floor, he made his way towards his bedroom door. Why did he suddenly feel like he needed to hide?

He passed through his bedroom door while he slipped his backpack off his shoulder. Not even ten seconds later his phone buzzed in his hands with your reply. He sat down quickly on his bed, one leg bouncing in an anxious rhythm, as he read your reply.

You no? i’m at home why?

Peter i think you should come over there’s a girl with harry in his room

Did this make him a bad person Peter asked himself as he watched the three dotted bubble appear and then disappear. Was this just him acting out of his own selfishness? Letting the devil on his shoulder whisper in his ear and guide his hand? Or did it make him a hero? Saving you from a toxic relationship?

You i’m coming over.

The sound of your footsteps echoed down the streets, mixing with Peter’s calls of your name as he practically jogged behind you trying to catch up to you.

“Peter” you sighed, “just please go back home”.

“No!” he finally caught up to you, grabbing a hold of your wrist, pulling it a little, making you slow down.

“I don’t think you should be alone right now”.

Your face was blank, the only sign of any emotion coming from your restless eyes dancing across his face. He couldn’t decipher what you were thinking. You were angry of course. You were furious only minutes ago when you stormed out the door with both Harry and Peter at your heel.

Harry had spoken his sorry sentences. Telling you it wasn’t what it looked like. Begging for your forgiveness. But he was only kidding himself trying to convince you it wasn’t what it looked like, that he hadn’t cheated on you, when you’d literally caught him with his dick inside another woman.

Harry stayed behind in the lobby, probably thinking it wasn’t worth it to go after you into the spring night, in only his robe. Just as Peter were about to rush after you Harry spoke up,

“If you go after her you’re dead to me!”.

The venomous bite to Harry’s tone stopped Peter dead in his tracks.

“I know you fucking told her” Harry accused, “If you go after her I’m kicking you out– I NEVER want to see you again”.

But standing here, out on the streets of New York at midnight, holding your hand Peter knew he’d made the right decision.

“Ok” you said it so softly Peter didn't think he’d even hear it if his hearing wasn’t enhanced.

“Ok” he repeated.

You pulled your hand away, a knife twisting in Peter’s heart, and started walking. You didn’t say a single word on the way back to your apartment. Peter imagined you were hurt, but you weren’t crying, and Peter didn’t know if that scared him or comforted him.

Safely back inside your apartment you didn’t even acknowledge his presence as you threw your jacket off by the door. Then you walked down the hallway, taking a right at the end, to where he assumed your living room must be. Peter had never actually been in your apartment before.

He followed you down the hallway, after neatly hanging both his and your jacket on your coat rack. He found you on the floor by your couch, your back resting against the front, holding your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as soft sobs escaped you.

“I’m sorry you had to find out like that” Peter apologized, sitting down next to you on your carpet. A feeling like his only purpose in life was to comfort you, overcame him. So, he wrapped a hand around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. You leaned in closer to his body, your hands shifting from hugging yourself, to hugging Peter tightly.

“No, this was exactly how I needed to find out” you sobbed, “I needed to see it with my own eyes, or I wouldn’t have believed it”.

Peter let you cry until there weren't any tears left to cry, cooing you and whispering all the most reassuring words he could muster up past midnight.

“I don’t know why it hurts so bad… I think deep down I always knew he wasn’t being honest with me– he always kept me guessing” you said. No, Peter thought, he kept you down.

Before Peter could say anything, you lifted your head from his chest, a big wet spot on his t-shirt left in your wake. You looked him right in the eye, and Peter could feel a budding warmth of red covering the apples of his cheeks.

“Please Peter” you pleaded, moving your face closer, the closest it’s ever been to his. Your right hand traveled to cup his hot cheeks, pulling him even closer to your face. So close he felt your breath tickle his skin while you spoke,

“You always make me feel better– it’s your superpower, remember? Please make me feel better”.

Closing his eyes, Peter knew he couldn’t deny you, his heart screamed out for you. This was everything he wanted, was it not? With a shuddering breath and a heart beating out of his chest, he closed the space between you, brushing his lips over yours.

Your other hand cupped his other cheek, pulling him even closer to your body, letting out a small whimper as you kissed him back. Peter felt like his head was spinning. He didn’t know where he ended, and you began.

Then it all became a bit of a blur. His hands found your waist as you climbed onto his lap, brushing your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Your hand left his cheek to toy with his hair, and Peter just about moaned into your mouth. He needed more of you, and with the way you were grinding down on his growing bulge, he knew you did too.

Warmth flooded his body wherever you touched him, and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of you. When your hand left his hair, he just about sighed with disappointment, until he realized how you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt. Raising his hands, he helped you pull it off him. Absentmindedly, you threw it away, before your eyes fell to his chest, quickly scanning over his muscles before they traveled up to his face, where they looked into his soul. Half a second later you pulled him in for another heated kiss.

His hands fell to your ass, helping you grind down on him. Fuck, he was properly hard now, his cock straining against his jeans. With every brush of your core against his cock you whimpered into his mouth, making Peter almost feel lightheaded. You were so pretty. Your lips tasted like raspberries, and under his hands your skin was softer than velvet.

“Take off your pants please” you pleaded against his skin as you started pressing soft kisses down along his jaw and neck.

His hands raced to unbutton his jeans. You pulled away from his neck, staggering to your feet on wobbly legs, making a whine leaving Peter’s lips. Over him you started pulling on your pants, dragging them down your legs along with your panties in one go. Mesmerized by your silhouette, Peter almost forgot what he was doing. You quickly sat down beside him, fingers coming up to hook around the waistband of Peter’s jeans. Then you started pulling them down to his mid-thigh along with his boxers. Peter almost forgot to breathe as you freed his aching cock.

When you climbed onto his lap, Peter’s brain started working again. His hands fell to your ass, steadying you as you got comfortable on his lap.

“D-did you want me to…” Peter trailed off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say. Instead, he showed you. His right hand rubber over your ass and hip before his fingers brushed over your clit. You mewled at the contact, your eyes closing before you shook your head.

“No, no I just want you– I need you, Peter”.

Fuck, Peter thought. He’d dreamt of hearing you tell him you wanted him, for months. And now it wasn’t a dream anymore.

“O-okay” he stuttered, reaching a hand between your bodies, grabbing at his shaft in a rough hold. With his other hand he helped guide your hips to hover over his tip, sliding it back and forth over your slit, and lining it up with your opening. He could feel how wet and desperate you were, coating his cock in your arousal.

With a hand resting on his shoulder, you slowly sat down on his cock. First slipping the tip in, before your walls swallowed the rest of him, taking him fully inside. A choked moan fell from Peter’s lips as he savored the feeling of your velvet pulsing walls around him. Rocking your hips back and forth, your puffy clit rubbing up against his pelvis, as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, gaping around words you couldn’t get out.

“Shit” you panted, “You’re so deep”.

“Yeah” Peter breathed out, head falling back against the couch, “You feel me in your tummy?”.

“Fuck,” you lifted your hips, slowly starting to move, “y-yes, I d-do”.

Looking up at you, as you moved over him, Peter thought you looked like an angel. The way your ceiling light lit up the back of your head, Peter was sure you were wearing a halo.

Your rhythm increased and soon you were bouncing in his lap. Your breathy moans falling from your lips, the wet noises coming from where you were connected, and the way you were starting to clench around him, were making the tension in Peter’s stomach grow. Knitting his eyebrows together, Peter didn’t know how much longer he was going to last.

Scared he’d finish before you, his fingers found your clit, pressing down in tight circles. Under the touch of his fingers you almost jumped, while a shuddering breath left your lips. Then Peter felt himself start to get desperate, meeting your bounces with a thrusting of his hip, pushing his throbbing cock even further inside you.

Every brush of his fingers over your clit, coincided with a thrust of his hips, and soon he felt your wall flutter around him. He could feel how your wetness ran down his shaft and down his balls, and he knew you were as close to the edge of ecstasy as he was. His fingers never let up on your clit, and soon you clenched around him so hard he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Fuck,” Peter spat, “I’m gonna cum”.

“I–Inside” you moaned, “You can come inside– it’s okay”.

Your words pushed him over the edge, making him come hard inside you with a grunt. He didn’t slow down his fingers on your clit, and the feeling of him filling you up and the brush of his fingers, must’ve pushed you over the edge. Half a second later your hips stilled as Peter felt the frantic pulses of your orgasm milking his cock.

The feeling of you riding out your orgasm on his sensitive cock, clenching down on him as your body shook with aftershocks, it was almost too much, too intense for Peter. His breath came out in hard pants, and his body felt hot to the touch.

Peter didn’t know how much time passed as you both came down from your highs. It could have been three seconds or three hours. All Peter knew was that with you, he lost all sense of time. But this moment of bliss must come to an end. Everything is temporary, and someone must be the first to pull away.

On wobbling legs, you slid off his lap, sitting down next to him on the floor. You leaned back, grabbing your panties off the couch. Peter averted his eyes. The act was somehow too intimate to watch, even after what you two had just done. Instead, he busied himself with pulling his pants back over his ass, and tucking himself away, as a silence fell over the both of you. It felt heavy, loaded with questions he didn’t know if he wanted an answer too. After a few minutes a whisper left Peter’s lips, breaking the silence,

“I think I might be homeless”.

You didn’t answer right away, but Peter could hear your breathing change multiple times, like you were going to say something,

“I’m sorry”.

tagging some mutuals (this is so embarrassing): @hollandweather, @luciwritesstuff, @userholland, @t-lostinworlds, @silkscream, @sparklingsin, @logangarfield, @justapurrcat, @tomdutch, @devotion, @lnmp89, @mayal0pez, @melodicheauxxo-writes,

...

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x y/n #spider man x reader #spider man #tom holland #peter parker smut #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfiction #spider man smut #spider man fanfiction #mcu!peter x reader #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #*writing

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silverzoomies · 9 months

Text

Screwball

peter maximoff x reader smut

warnings: smut, slow burn, kissing, hand jobs, loss of virginity, temperature play, mutant reader, ice powers, porn with plot, clunky writing

word count: 14,151

a/n: im so late posting this. i meant to finish this one like a month ago. but it's already september !! and a heatwave fic seems so out of season !! oh well !! i hope someone out there enjoys this. i went through hell tryin' to finish it. but i'm pretty happy with the way it panned out,,

apologies for the usual: clunky writing, slow as fuck execution, potentially ooc dialogue, etc etc etc kbgsjbdghsoiheg

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Westchester, New York had never seen such a record breaking heat wave.

And in all his reckless, fast paced years up to the ripe age of thirty, neither had Peter.

His fragmented memory is jam packed. Cluttered with disorganized checklists of every place he’s ever been. Not that he’s bragging or anything. But Peter’s basically seen the entire world, and then some. If one were to count those gnarly, X-Men space missions. He’d gone places no non-mutant could ever conceivably dream of reaching. From the deathly cold peak of Mount Everest, to the blistering sands of the Sahara desert itself.

Even with all that collected experience, Peter’s a hundred percent sure; he’s never faced summertime heat as insanely lethal as this.

Okay, sure. Maybe declaring Westchester as hotter than the Sahara might be a bit of a stretch. But to Peter’s credit, this heat wave is dangerous enough to warrant a citywide advisory. Which, in layman’s terms, means: don’t get ballsy. Unless you wanna end up fryin’ like an egg on the sidewalk.

The weather outside is so grisly, in fact, the X-Men themselves had to call their latest mission quits. Imagine that! Crazy, right? A fierce team of mutant heroes, capable of taking on behemoth sized sentinels. And even they didn’t dare another second in the heat.

Peter detached himself from the concept of religion ages ago. But thank the mysterious powers above, whoever they may be. Because he was legit two seconds away from collapsing to the ground, in a boiled heap of skin and bone.

He stumbles off the X-jet on wobbly legs. And no joke, Peter swears his muscles have somehow melted into jelly. It’s supremely embarrassing, the way he struggles to keep up with the team as they move ahead. They all stop before going upstairs, waiting to reconvene with Xavier. Organized in a careless, half circle; the X-Men look as though they’ve returned from an Olympic marathon. Their bodies exhausted, and blanketed in buckets of sweat.

Naturally, on account of Peter’s super dope, mutant genes; his body functioned at a nonstop rate of super sonic speed. As a repercussion, his average body temperature burned leagues hotter than any non-mutant’s. It wasn’t abnormal for Peter to dread the tormenting heat of the summer season.

In the blazing eye of a dangerous heat wave, swarming the city like an apocalyptic storm; Peter’s absolutely certain – like, for sure, he’s teetering on the brink of death. A miserable, stewing-in-your-own-sweat kinda death. Leave it to Logan to recite the eulogy at Peter’s funeral. No doubt, Wolvie would have nothing but positive things to say about Peter after he died. Most definitely.

Peter might be a teensy bit freaked out actually. Since he had no idea he was even capable of experiencing heat exhaustion. It almost makes him paranoid. Like a hypochondriac with a chest ache. In an attempt to force his recovery, Peter chugs through exactly thirteen bottles of dollar store water in a flash. The source of his stash? A stainless steel, mini fridge in Hank’s lab.

He knows Hank’s gonna be totally peeved when he finds the fridge raided clean. But Peter doesn’t bother worrying about that right now. Instead, he makes a mental reminder: Water bottles. An IOU. One he’ll probably forget about within the next two seconds. And never get around to fulfilling.

Professor Chucksters is talking, but Peter can’t find it in himself to listen to a single word. Whatever momentous info the ol’ baldy drops, flies a thousand miles over his feverish head. Peter cranes his neck back in overheated agony, lazily chugging Hank’s last remaining bottle of crisp, cold water. The smooth bite of that cold down Peter’s throat makes him exhale with relief through his nose.

Halfway through, he stops to shower his head in the rest. Letting chilly droplets rain down over his silver hair. Sharp tingles erupt down his neck and across his shoulders. Peter shudders, humming in delight to himself.

Oh. Shit. Wait…

Peter then comes to the regrettable realization that, in a heatwave so hazardous; water is a necessity to be shared.

No shit, blockhead.

Now, mind you, Peter isn’t known for his forethought. He’s pretty overzealous. Had he taken time to stop and think for a hot sec…yeah. Sure. Maybe he should’ve been more mindful of his suffering teammates. Oopsie daisies.

Much like a careless dog, Peter shakes off the cold drops soaking his hair. Sprinkles of water splash all around him, with Jubilee caught in the line of fire. She jumps in place with an abrupt, but silent exclamation of ‘ew!’ Shooting Peter a look of burning fury. Damp strands of Peter’s hair fan over his eyes. He runs his fingers slowly through them to give his forehead some air.

Maybe Peter’s a little delusional. Because he swears on his life he catches a red tint in Jubilee’s cheeks. She scoffs, like she can’t stand his bullshit. He throws her a wink. A beat later, she smiles and rolls her eyes.

Peter smirks. Lucky for him, his speedster charm has yet to fizzle out.

The team waits patiently for their opportune moment to flee. It’s obvious they’re all pretty antsy. Probably since they’re dying to change into something lighter. Better fitted for Satan’s city wide celebration of hellfire and brimstone. Anything but the jumpsuits, at least. But that’s just a hunch.

In Peter’s own personal opinion? The most ideal scenario would be to strut around naked, in nothing at all. Sounds awesome, right? Freedom from the suffocation of needless threads! However, societal standards and modern customs definitely wouldn’t allow such debauchery. Not to mention, Peter isn’t super keen on the idea of peeping his teammates in their birthday suits.

Except for Raven, maybe. He never gets tired of looking at those scales. All that blue. Nice.

Oh. And…you. Frankly, Peter’s willing to risk it all just to catch a glimpse of you in the buff.

He swallows a thick lump forming in his throat, sneaking a lightning fast glance in your direction. Observing you with a gawking gaze, Peter ignores the way his heartbeat kicks up to roadrunner speed. Faster than fast. Like, cartoonishly fast. It’s ridiculous.

You’re completely impervious to any heatwave debuffs. Lucky lucky. Standing there without a care in the world, you listen attentively to professor Charlie Brown’s ramblings. Since you’re so distracted, Peter lets his speedy eyes shamelessly wander. Trailing down the glittering, icy blue of your jumpsuit. Uniquely personalized to coincide with your wintry gimmick.

Which doesn’t at all explain why it’s so inappropriately skin tight.

Peter feels himself choke on his next breath. But he’s quick to blame it on the weather. Yeah. It’s just the heat that’s stifling him. Nothing else. Get real, dude.

The sparkling material of your suit hugs your figure a little too perfectly. Complementing every irresistible curve. Peter always thought you looked so ludicrously fine in that suit. If not way, way, way too distracting. Sometimes, he found it ultra hard – ignoring any euphemisms – to maintain focus during missions. Usually because your frosty ass came twinkling in his peripheral, throwing off his mojo.

But let’s chalk Peter’s lack of focus up to his chronic ADD instead, ‘kay?

Heck. Maybe it wasn’t the ADD’s fault. At least, not entirely. Like, cut the bullshit for a sec. Peter doesn’t have a lot of sexual experience. He’s never gone any further than a dozen heated sessions of heavy petting. And from time to time, though he hates to admit it; it haunts him. The way he’s so suppressed. Overflowing with pent-up desire.

Thirty years old and still a virgin? Clock’s ticking, Quickie. No wonder he can’t take his hungry eyes off your body.

Speaking of your body.

Damn, is it hot in here? Or is it just you?

It’s most definitely not you.

Your body naturally radiates a refreshing aura of frigidity. It’s no coincidence, the way your teammates linger so closely in your proximity. Peter can’t really blame them for doing so. You’re the human equivalent of an icebox. Even a touch of your finger could turn the entire X-mansion into a winter wonderland. Part of him wonders why you haven’t done so already. Since you’d be sparing everyone the infernal anguish of this awful heat wave.

Maybe you’re just as absentminded as he is.

Anyway, right about now, Peter desperately yearns to be a long lost tub of neapolitan. Stuffed deep inside your metaphorical freezer.

Which…sounds way dirtier than intended.

Fuck. Alright. Moving on.

Tugging at the collar of his jumpsuit, Peter fights to catch his breath. The fierce heat from outside has somehow seeped its way into the X-Men’s base of operations. Almost like an act of god. Or more like a punishment, maybe.

In desperate need of relief, Peter looks to you once more. He finds himself struck with an ingenious, lightbulb moment then.

A blink, and he bolts, appearing directly behind you. A faint gust of wind flutters your hair. But the breeze fails to even make you flinch. Peter isn’t the least bit subtle with his actions, as he presses his burning body a little too closely into your back. And hoooooooooooooo mama! The sweet relief of your icy presence is so worth any consequences, should they arise.

You whip your head around suddenly, giving Peter a weird look and a once over. He can’t really blame you for staring at him like that. Sure, you’re both teammates. Even family, one might argue. You’re both fighting for the same cause. But you haven’t built an inseparable bond with Peter or anything.

Honestly, he’d be totally down if you did. But that’s neither here nor there.

Peter always thought you were pretty damn cool. In more ways than one, if your glacial mutation was included in the mix. If he were more honest with himself, he would’ve acknowledged his dumb, boyish crush on you an entire ice-age ago. Oh well.

He’s still too much of an awkward spaz for his own good sometimes.

You seem…confused. Staring at Peter as if silently asking him a question. If he had to guess, it’s probably something along the lines of – what the hell do you think you’re doing, you handsome scoundrel? Peter exchanges your puzzled look with an uneasy smile. Dramatically, he fans himself with a hand. Hoping you get the hint, he pokes his tongue out to playfully express his suffocating torment.

Thankfully, you pick up what he’s putting down. As you turn back around, you giggle cutely. Peter breathes an alleviating sigh. He’s left to bask in the glory of your wintry aura. So freeing, and so, so cold. He could kiss you as a thanks, if only you’d let him. But you’ve already directed your attention to Xavier’s painfully long lecture.

Wait. Seriously, how long was this talk supposed to last? It feels like a million years at this point and-

Peter checks the Star Trek watch on his wrist. It’s only been…five minutes. Huh.

The gathering of ye olde X-council draws to a close. At long last! Xavier wraps up his spiel of heroic efforts , world peace , and wonderful work everyone. Bla bla bla. Don’t get Peter wrong. He harbors a lot of respect for the guy. Any other day, and he would’ve found those words somewhat awe inspiring. If not the slightest bit misguided.

But today? Professor, dude, now’s not the time to be preaching words of wisdom. Your nerd club’s literally cooking from the inside out. Give it a rest.

The team wastes no time. As soon as Chuck’s given the go-ahead, they’re gone. High-tailing it upstairs as fast as their tired legs can go. Which isn’t all that fast. At least, not by Peter’s standards. But he’s hella impressed with the enthusiasm.

Unlike everyone else, you move at a frustratingly slow pace. Walking behind you feels akin to waiting too long in a DMV line. Something Peter’s never had to do a single day in his life. And he’s not about to start now. It’s monotonous, and borderline infuriating. But his heightened impatience is probably just another consequence of this outrageous heat.

You take your sweet ass time – and holy moly, did you have a sweet ass – as you ascend to the first floor of the X-mansion. Peter follows after you like a lost puppy, not too far behind. On your way to – presumably – your room, you climb another, dreaded flight of stairs. And since when were stairs a hindrance to a speedster like Peter? He’s never once felt winded making a simple ascent like this. Ever.

Peter’s growing more and more restless. His skin feels sticky and uncomfortable under his jumpsuit, but he can’t rush home to grab a change of clothes. He’s unwilling to risk a race through whatever hellscape lies in waiting outside. No matter how little time it takes him. Not while his lungs are cooking to a crisp.

He aches for the touch of your icy hands. Plain and simple. Nothing to it. Nothing sexual. No strings attached.

Unless…you had a preference for strings. Peter would tie them around his wrists and move like a marionette puppet if you asked. Shit, you want a whole show? Bring out the dancing Muppets.

Midway through your ascent, Peter appears in front of you. He stops you suddenly, leaning casually with his hand against the wooden railing. His other hand rests on his hip. Lamely, he forces himself to act as naturally as he can. Which is virtually impossible, considering the circumstances. But even so, Peter throws you his signature grin and nods his head.

Be cool, dude. Be cool. Ease into it. Just try not to think about how you’re literally baking to death here.

His overheated exhaustion is impossible to miss. Even a dense chimp in a blindfold could sense something’s off about him. The quick rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a dead give away. Revealing how labored his breathing really is. Trickles of sweat race in a tense competition down Peter’s temples. Warm heat pools in his cheeks, and his skin appears ghostly pale.

That…might be the reason you gaze at him like you’re worried sick. As if you’ve seen a haunting, silverette ghost. Peter looks like he’ll pass out sometime within the next five minutes. Realistically, he should probably seek medical attention immediately. But he fakes his aloof casualness anyway.

“Heyyyyy, what’s the haps? Where’re you headed in such a rush, Screwball?” Peter asks, somewhat condescending.

“Screwball?” You narrow your eyes, puzzled, “Oh, y’know, my room probably? I might take a nap. Why?” You laugh despite your confusion, crossing your arms. Fixing Peter with a look that only suggests one thing: suspicion.

Fair enough.

He nods, rapidly tapping his fingers on the railing.

“Cool. Coooooool. I can dig it. Nothin’ wrong with that. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna spend a summer afternoon like this lazin’ around in bed, amiright?”

Good. Nice and easy. Peter should probably stop there, and speak no further. But his hazy, addled mind works on autopilot. The words race past his lips faster than he can keep up.

“It’s hot as hell today too. So, you could totally sprawl out butt ass naked and-”

Too late.

“...Yeah?” Based on your expression alone, Peter knows he’s made a total ass of himself. By some miracle, you don’t deck him with an icy fist of freezing fury. Not that you seemed the violent type to begin with.

“Wait, no-” He abruptly pauses to try and make sense of his thoughts. A stifling heat in the air swarms his head, drowning Peter in hot molasses, “Oh. Gah! What the hell am I even saying? Sorry, that was-uh…that was totally weird, right? Uh, lemme start over-uhm-”

Peter clears his throat, masking his mortification with his speedster charm. Super popular with the ladies. Tested on the battlefield of life and approved. A five star rating. No need to question why he still hasn’t managed to get laid, like ever.

“Sooooooooo…anyway. Y’wanna hang out?” He asks, cheesing a dorky grin.

“You never ask me to hang out with you. But today, of all days…that’s when you do? Everything’s closed, Peter. Y’know, because of the heat advisory? I mean, clearly…you look like you know.” You gesture to Peter himself.

A sweaty sheen coats his skin. He really should’ve taken a cold shower in the communal washrooms. At least before confronting you like this. Man, he really screwed this up. If this interaction falls flat, Peter’s just gonna bail. Maybe he’ll try and stuff himself in that mini fridge of Hank’s. He’d be way better off there. Until Beastie finds him, anyway.

“Uh, yeah? Pffft …no duh. I knew that. But, so what? Just ‘cuz there’s some lame stuff happening outside. That doesn’t mean we can’t do somethin’ totally cool inside. Know what I mean?” Simple and subtle.

“Hm…” You think on his offer for a moment. But it feels like he's aged another thirty years by the time you reply, “At least let me change first, okay? You probably should too! I know you gotta be burnin’ up in that jumpsuit, sweetheart!”

A dopey smile plays on Peter’s lips, pressing into his dimples.

So…sweetheart, eh? That’s a new one.

Politely, you push past Peter to make your way up the remaining stairs. Without any forethought or plan of action, he cuts you off again. He slides across the floor into your visual radius, worn sneakers squeaking along polished wood. Wait…why’s he losing his balance?? Peter doesn’t usually lose his balance. Shit.

Ah. he’s lightheaded now. Great.

You’re close enough that Peter can feel the tempting coldness radiating off your body. Oh, man. If only you’d envelop him in your frosty arms completely. You could even lay on top of him like a blanket of snow post avalanche. Anything. Please. Peter is so beyond desperate to beat the heat, he’d let you pelt him with a flurry of snowballs. At least then, he wouldn’t feel a spark away from igniting into flames.

Staring at him with an impatient look, you tilt your head and furrow your brows. Awkwardly, Peter shifts on his feet. Thick humidity overflows his lungs, close to bursting with the force of an atomic bomb. Breathing is near impossible at this point. Peter may as well bite the silver bullet, before he finally kicks the bucket.

Godspeed, or however the saying goes.

“Hi…sorry. Okay-uh…hear me out, please?” He begs. Peter brings his hands together in front of him like he’s praying at the altar, “This is gonna sound weird. Like, next-level weird. Yer probably gonna think I’m a huge creep. And I’m not tryna freak you out ‘er anything. ‘kay? Like, I totally get it if yer not down for this. ‘Cuz, y’know, we’re not really all that close. Plus, you probably have other stuff you’d rather be doin’ than helpin’ out some loser like me, but-” Peter rapidly stammers over his words.

Way to go, ponyboy. Graceful as ever.

Holding out a small hand to politely silence Peter, you utter his name in the sweetest tone he’s ever heard. Hushed, soft, and so gentle. Your voice is the equivalent of candy to his eardrums. He kinda really digs the way you sound when you talk. So courteous and nice all the time.

Be still, his palpitating heart. Seriously. Calm down. Or he’s literally gonna die.

“Peter?”

“Uhyeahwhat?” He stammers again.

“Are you…okay? You’re sweating like crazy. You look like you’re gonna pass out, dude.”

Peter throws you an ‘ok’ sign with a hand, his grin sluggish.

“Peachy keen, baby.”

He swears with every fiber of his sweltering soul that calling you ‘baby’ made you blush. But, y’know, since he’s a little bit doubtful, he might have to test that theory again. Just to be a hundred percent sure. Break out the ol’ chalkboard and sketch some x’s and o’s like a scientific diagram. Top of the line research. He’s the leading psychoanalyst in speedster charisma.

“You sure about that?” You ask, arching a brow, holding an easygoing smile.

Taking a few steps closer, you bless Peter with your emanating chill. He doesn’t at all expect you to raise your hand. Peter swallows a thick, blistering lump in his throat. Frozen in place, he watches in slow motion as you bring the tips of your frosty fingers to his chest. Brisk, winter cold spreads in fractals of frost over his jumpsuit.

Freezing heaven on scorching earth. It’s sorta…poetic, in a way. Peter blinks rapidly, caught in a mind-altering daze for a beat or two. Your touch really is like a miracle cure, alleviating that stifling thickness suffocating his lungs.

“W-Wow. Okay.” He chokes awkwardly, cheeks flushing. His skin tingles under his jumpsuit, “Wow. That’s cool. Literally cool.”

“Peter?”

“Mmmmmmhmmm?” He hums, slouching his shoulders. Peter shamelessly relaxes under your wintry touch.

“You’re suffering in this heat, aren’t you? You need me to help you out?”

Stupidly, like a colossal, doofus dumbass, he shakes his head. You’re offering the exact thing Peter came to you for. A golden opportunity. He’s really hit the jackpot now. All he has to do is face the music, and admit it. Just be honest. Say it, doofus!

“Huh? Naaahhhh! Pffft …why would-...hey, I told ya! I’m juuuust peachy, Screwball! Don’t gotta worry about me!”

Hanging in the air by a delicate string, is a tension Peter’s too stunned to identify. Taking another step closer, the swell of your breasts meets his chest. The hand you’ve placed over his speedy heart trails tantalizingly slow, up to Peter’s flushed cheek. His dark eyes flutter closed, and he almost falls face first into your touch.

“I can take care of you, y'know? I really don’t mind, honey. It wouldn’t be an issue.” Your soft voice exudes genuine compassion. The sweet, gentle attention burns his skin to a boiling point, his veins melting underneath.

That unidentifiable tension in the air permeates, thicker than summertime heat. Despite the relieving cold you’ve given him to bask in; Peter finds it even more difficult to breathe. It confuses him, the way you act so nice and considerate. And now? He’s melting entirely.

Literally. No dramatizations. Peter can feel his damp skin drooping slowly off his bones.

He’s already close enough to death as is. What’s with the tenderness and affection, huh? Were you going out of your way to make sure he dies faster? Have some humanity, for Geddy’s sake. Jeez.

“I-uh…I…” Peter stutters, at a loss for words, “I wouldn’t wanna put you out like that, but…uh…”

“Alright. Whatever you say.” You steadily pull your hand from Peter’s face, “Offer’s still on the table, though!”

Wait. Wait. Wait. Why are you pulling away? No, no, no! You can’t pull away! Not yet! Come on!

All at once, the soothing cold you’ve gifted Peter disappears. No thanks to the steaming fever brought upon by his overheated, speedster body. He nearly whines at the loss, pulling his lip between his teeth to stifle any embarrassing noises.

It takes Peter only a millisecond to give in. With a slower reaction time than usual – not really all that slow, from an outside perspective – he darts his hand out in a flash. Peter lightly grabs your wrist, stopping you from retracting your hand any further.

“Wait-” Peter groans, acting hasty. Frustrated with his own awkwardness, he rolls his eyes, “...I’m…I’m literally dyin’ here, okay? Like, no joke. I think my heart might actually explode. And I…kinda can’t breathe right now? So, uhm…can you just, like, touch me? Just a little bit? But not-” He panics suddenly, eyes widening, “N-Not like-...not in a weird way, I swear!”

He almost tacks on a suggestive ‘unless you really want to,’ but decides against it. Better not, lest he dig himself into a deeper hole. So far under the Earth’s surface, he’ll come out the other side. Not a bad idea, actually. Maybe it’s cooler over there.

“And I’ll totally make it up to you. I promise. Pinky swear. Cross my heart, hope I don’t die of heat stroke.” He insists.

You giggle again, cute as can be. It’s not the least bit condescending either, thankfully. Peter feels the weight of a billion megatons finally lift off his shoulders. With a nod, you take his hand in yours. A surprisingly intimate gesture, since the two of you have never done anything quite like this before. Hell, you’ve never spent time with each other one-on-one outside of the X-Men.

“C’mon, you silly goose.” You lightheartedly joke.

Your affection catches Peter off guard. Not that he’s got a problem with it. No siree. In fact, his heart might’ve skipped a few beats. A lazy smile plays at his lips, as you guide Peter down the hall to your room in your usual, slow stride.

Oh, sweet, frosty sanctuary calls.

As soon as Peter steps inside, you quickly close the door behind you. Feeling somewhat out of place in the unfamiliarity of your space, Peter distracts himself with the posters on your walls. He casts quick glances over the silly knick-knacks occupying your desk and dressers. Turns out, your room has a lot of personality. Neat.

He overhears a faint click suddenly. Whipping around to find you locking the door, Peter narrows his eyes in thought.

Huh.

Maybe he’s overthinking. Probably. But doesn’t locking the door like that suggest some…implications? Then again, Peter could be looking at this in all the wrong ways. Like, okay, if he were being realistic? More than likely, you didn’t wanna risk someone walking in. Not while you got handsy with one of your teammates in your room. Totally reasonable, he thinks.

But then-

Leaning your back against the door, you steadily unzip your glittering suit. Pulling the tiny, snowflake zipper down just enough to expose the swell of – Oh, hellllloooooooooo snowy cleavage. Where in the world have you been all his life? Peter has to refrain from whistling.

Okay. You totally did that on purpose, didn’t you? That was completely intentional. And Peter’s definitely not reading too far into things. He’s most unequivocally not letting his attraction to you affect his perception of a simple gesture. Not at all.

He can’t control his lingering gaze. Peter’s droopy eyes follow the slow movement of your hand, his mouth falling agape in a heat-exhausted stupor. Somewhere around him, he can barely make out your voice. But it’s muffled. All noise. Akin to a teacher from a Peanuts cartoon. Bwah Bwah Bwah Bwah.

Peter blinks.

“Huh? Sorry…you say somethin’?” It’s a failed attempt at a recovery. Peter taps his temple, “Gotta couple screws loose in here right now. Y’know, heat’s kinda gettin’ to me.”

You arch a brow, gazing at Peter like you see right through his bullshit. And yeah, he’s gonna go ahead and bet you probably do.

“Uh huh?” You scoff, giggling, “I asked if you’d be more comfortable on the bed, doofus.”

Moving closer to your bed, you bend over to adjust the fuckload of plushies resting on the blankets. Wow. Check that out. It’s like a Toys R Us threw up. A colorful mess of too many plushies for Peter to count. There’s barely any space to lie down, even if he wanted to.

Doing a quick double take, he glances between you, and your occupied bed. Peter sways where he stands, light headed from heat exhaustion. His brows shoot up in unexpected surprise. He whistles through a suggestive grin.

“Waiiiit, seriously?” Peter huffs a charming laugh, “Wow. Didn’t peg you for the direct type, Screwball. Y’wanna take me out to dinner and a movie first?”

“Dinner and a movie? I dunno, Peter. You’re askin’ for a lot.” You giggle again, acting nonchalant. You make your way around the room to a record player on a corner shelf. Neatly organized vinyls are aligned meticulously next to it. As you poke through your collection, you continue, “But sure. Fuck it, right? Why not! What movie?”

Distracted, as he usually is, Peter glances curiously around your room. Framed photos, postcards, and letters adorn your walls. Pinned carefully in place. Some of the photos, he suspects, are of your family. Others, more than likely friends. There’s even a few group photos of the X-Men together, bringing a fond smile to his face.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah?

Wait. Shit. You’re talking again. And Peter totally missed whatever you said.

“Huh?” Peter darts his head in your direction, watching with half lidded eyes as you set up the record player.

“Dude.” You roll your eyes affectionately, chuckling, “I said, is it hot in here, by the way? Just wondering. Since I can’t really tell.”

“Oh-” Peter exaggerates a sigh, “It’s really bad, babe. Like, sooo bad. I’m definitely gonna die if you don’t come over here and put those icebox hands on me, like, right now. Seriously.” He snickers, falling limply backwards into your bed.

Several plushies bounce with the impact of his weight. Some tumble onto the floor. Others topple onto Peter himself, but he leaves them be. He clutches a Beatles Blue Meanie plush to his chest. Breathing in quick, muggy breaths. Peter finds he’s even more consumed by the record-breaking heat. It’s a miracle he hasn’t disintegrated into a pile of ash by now.

“Howard the Duck.” Peter adds, staring at the ceiling in cloudy thought. He twirls the Blue Meanie in his hands.

“Pffft…what?” You laugh, “What are you even-”

“That’s the movie I wanna see. When you take me out? I wanna watch Howard the Duck. Oh! And I want popcorn too. Can’t watch a movie without popcorn. But it’s gotta be one of the big ones. With extra butter. And some candy-”

“ When I take you out. C’mon, really? Dude, didn’t critics totally pan that movie? I swear, I saw that in the paper just recently! It’s such an awful movie, Peter!”

“Uh, yeah? And so what? That’s kinda what makes it the ultimate date move, babe. Check it out – we could have the most awesome time makin’ fun of it.” Peter throws his head back further into your bed, peering at you from upside down, “Ooooh! Did you hear about the duck boobs scene? No joke. I kid you not. It’s got duck titties.”

A mellow tune slowly encompasses the quiet, muggy space of your room. Peter instantly recognizes it from the first few beats alone. Obscured by Clouds. Pink Floyd. …Cool. Peter’s pretty fond of that album himself. It’s not necessarily his favorite, per se. But it’s awesome enough. And it’s perfectly fitting for the mood of sweltering, summertime vibes too, he thinks.

“I didn’t until now.” You sarcastically scoff. Meandering towards Peter on your bed, “Spoilers, dude.”

He brings his head up to look at you. Spreading himself out, Peter knocks more of your poor plushies to the floor. Carelessly, he drops the Blue Meanie plush. Letting him fall to his ultimate demise. Au revoir, his blueness.

“Right. My bad.” He snickers. After a beat, Peter adds, “I love this album, by the way. It’s a nice vibe.”

In your eyes, he must look a lot like a beached starfish. Sprawled out and helpless. Drying to death in the heat of the summertime sun. Peter has his long legs hanging loosely off the edge of your bed. Moving in between those spread legs, you carefully climb onto the bed. Your knee stops just short of his crotch. As you inch yourself further over his body, Peter’s eyes widen. He blinks slowly, feeling hot beads of sweat roll down his temples.

“I know you do.” You grin down at him with a warm gaze. Peter’s lungs threaten to shrink into nothingness.

“Y-You do? Huh…no shit?” He appears put off, raising a silver brow, “How’d you know?”

You shrug, keeping your grin, “Guess I pay more attention to you than you think, hmm?” Perched over Peter with a palm to the sheets, you brush the silver bangs out of his eyes, “You got any limits?”

Peter blinks again, dumbfounded.

“Lim-...uh, what now?”

“Limits, y’know. Like, where am I free to touch? Anything you’re not comfortable with?”

“Oh. Uh…you can…touch me anywhere? It’s whatever yer comfortable with. Yer the one doin’ me a favor here.” he gazes at you with an unsure, sleepy eyed look. Nervously nibbling his lip, tasting the salt of his sweat, “Do you-uh…do you do this kinda thing a lot? Fer…other people?”

“Nope.” You blink down at him with that genuine, sweet smile again. Shrugging, “Just you.”

A subtle aura of addictive cold radiates from your body like a light. Peter can feel the faintest hint of it as you move in close. It teases him, promising sweet relief from the merciless summer heat. With his lips parted, Peter stares longingly into your eyes. His smile reveals a glimpse of his front teeth, as he snickers in disbelief.

“Uh huh. Alright. See, now I know fer sure yer just messin’ with me.” He bashfully laughs.

“Not yet I’m not.” You throw him a coy wink. Innocently, you ask, “Where do you want me?”

Which could so easily be misconstrued. Dammit.

Yeah. So, this one’s definitely on him. Peter’s inexperienced, sexually charged instincts immediately jump somewhere totally depraved. He’s a little ashamed of that fact. But hey, who’s the one climbing over him on their bed? Who’s the one fluttering those pretty lashes? Giving him those flirtatious smiles. Come on. Really? No wonder he’s lost his mind in the gutter.

Where do you want me?

Peter’s dark eyes immediately dart to his crotch for less than a second. But it happens so fast, he doesn’t doubt you missed it.

“Uhhhhh…I dunno. I didn’t…I didn’t really think about it? But, you cou- HHHHHHhnnnnnnnaaaaaaa-”

Frigid cold invades the exposed skin of Peter’s neck, as you press your hand gently there. A tiny thumb brushes his adam’s apple. Shivering, Peter bunches his shoulders. Tingling chills surge across his body.

“That’s good. That’s g-great. Awesome. Totally awesome. Thanks. Thank you.” He chokes in a rush, instantly melting into your icy touch.

Relaxing his body in your bed, Peter’s head falls loosely back. He breathes a long sigh of relief, his mouth falling open in a dopey smile. His eyes flutter closed as he laughs. Steadily then, your hand travels lower. Grazing frosty fingertips over his chest. Your fingers soon find the zipper of his jumpsuit, and you tug it down a little further.

That heavy tension from earlier grows a thousand times more distracting. For whatever reason, the mellow melody of Pink Floyd’s ‘When You’re In’ only seems to heighten said tension. Almost like it’s setting a certain kinda…steamy mood.

Did Peter wake up in some cheesy, VHS porno? He’s definitely living the plot of one.

Peter flutters his eyes open, met with the sight of you on your knees over him. Your gaze appearing heavy, focused intently on your task. You nibble your lip in thought, looking fine as hell while doing so. Pressing your small palm to his chest, you finally grace him with glorious cold again. Right over the sweaty abomination for a shirt he wore under his jumpsuit. He’s almost embarrassed that you’re even touching it.

Using your glacial gift, you manifest more coolness. Allowing it to spread all over Peter’s body. He sucks in a harsh breath, freeing his lungs from their heated asphyxiation.

There it is. Sweet, icy sanctuary, at long last.

“Ohhhhhhhh …” Peter groans, “Nice.”

His adam’s apple bobs in his throat, his veins straining under his skin. Digging your nails firmly into his chest, you manifest snowy trails of glittering frost. The biting cold nips at his skin over the fabric of his shirt. Like walking chest first into an arctic glacier.

“Is this helping you much at all?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

“You have nooooooooo idea, babe.” Peter breathes a grateful sigh, “This is, like, so amazing. Thanks. I owe ya one.”

“Nah. Don’t worry about it.”

Your freezing hand meets Peter’s sweaty forehead, pressing into his skin. Like you’re checking his temperature with the gentleness of a mother’s touch. Humming to the music, you card your cold fingers through his damp locks. Firmly massaging Peter’s scalp.

Peter lets his eyes drift shut again. His mouth falling open out of his control. Leaving his hair, you bring your attention back to his body. Watching him carefully for any sign to stop, you tug the wet, frost nipped fabric of his shirt. Bunching it up over his neck, exposing his broad chest.

He shoots an eye open, fixing you with a curious look. Feeling hot skin under your soft palms, you slide your hands over his raised pecs. Your fingers gliding in a touch as delicate as powdered snow. It sends sharp chills down his spine. A sensation he’s quickly finding extremely addictive and all too pleasant.

Instantaneously, something clicks in Peter’s brain.

A beat, and your touch goes from relieving, to downright pleasurable. Even sort of…arousing. Peter immediately reacts, arching his back in an abrupt jolt. He laughs his surprise through a broken moan, tossing his head back for the umpteenth time.

“O-Oh, fuck.” He chokes, loud enough to disturb whoever occupies the room next door.

Peter’s so righteously fucked now. Because he really shouldn’t be as turned on by this as he is. It’s just…he’s so boiling hot. Miserable as hell. And not only are you finally breaking him free of hellfire’s tyranny. But you’re also touching him sorta intimately. Peter’s really not immune to attention like this. Especially not from a stone fox he’s super attracted to.

His nipples harden under your frigid spell, perky against the tips of your fingers. Peter hisses, whimpering another moan without meaning to. Your only response is to giggle. Curiously, you tilt your head. Quickly taking notice of the way Peter’s noises have changed in pitch.

They’re more like moans of ecstasy now. Because, well, they sorta are. Whoops.

Lowering your hips, you suddenly move to rest on Peter’s lap. Just to give your knees some much needed rest. His hammering heart threatens to burst straight through his ribcage. Rising from the bed onto his elbows, Peter tries to protest.

“Wait! Wait, don’t sit- hoooohhhh.” A throaty groan slips off his tongue.

The full weight of your lower half drops onto his lap. Right over the stiff hard-on in his jumpsuit, doing little to hide itself. Your ass is so outrageously cold against his crotch and… oh, fuck. That’s so perfect. Peter groans again through a shuddering breath. Limply, he lowers himself onto his back. Hoping to conceal his shame, he brings his hands to his face.

Except, there’s no denying his obvious desire anymore.

“Auuuuugh.” Peter curses himself, “Shit. I am seriously so, so sorry-” Your name plays on his tongue in a desperate, apologetic tone, “I-I really…I dunno why I’m so-uh…I’m not usually-”

“Hey, don’t worry! It’s okay. Believe me, I don’t mind…”

Gosh. There you go again, doing that thing. The thing where you act so unexpectedly understanding in the face of an awkward situation. But even then, Peter can hear your smooth voice waver. Despite all you try to hide, he can tell. You’re just as nervous as he is, but ultimately better at masking it.

He doesn’t see it, but you gaze down at him rather suggestively. A fresh, newfound sense of lust lingers in your eyes. Raking your nails teasingly down his chest, you draw numbing streaks of snow, making him wince. The frost manifests seamlessly from your fingers, tickling Peter’s ever burning skin. It melts instantly, leaving beaded droplets.

“Does it really feel good when I touch you like this, pretty boy?” You tease, that waver in your voice barely leaking through again.

Wooooah. Okay. Okay. Hold up. Rewind. What?

Peter isn’t hearing you wrong this time. He couldn’t be. It’s impossible to misread the dirty tease in your tone. In the blink of an eye – rapid fire speed – the blood pooling in his cheeks vacates straight to his dick. Peter’s cock twitches, pulsating under his jumpsuit – under you – and shamefully unveiling just how horny he really is.

The high-speed boom boom boom of Peter’s heart skids to a deafening halt. His exhausted lungs finally collapse. Squeezing out his final remnants of life. If someone were to hook him up to an EKG, he surely would’ve flat-lined. Sayonara, suckers. This foolhardy speedster’s at the end of his road.

But…what’s this?! Peter’s still alive and breathing? Who could’ve predicted such a phenomenon??

He lowers his hands from his flushed face, peering over the tips of his fingers. His black coffee eyes blown exceptionally wide.

“Woah. Hold on now. What?” Peter snorts. He shakes himself free of total shock, frantically nodding, “Uh, yeah? It feels…really fuckin’ awesome, to tell you the truth.”

“Mhm?” You hum a sensual vibration, biting your lip, “Mind if I try something bold then?”

Peter arches a curious brow. You’re kind of a little minx, aren’t you?

“Literally? You can do whatever you want with me, babe. I’m all yours.” He heaves an exasperated laugh.

A smirk dawns your pretty lips, and you shimmy backwards over Peter’s lap. Until the bulging swell of his hardness lies before you, squirming under his jumpsuit. Teasing him, you drag your biting touch down to his crotch. Euphoric cold dances across his pelvis. You stop short of his hard-on, and Peter draws in a ragged breath.

“Awww…feelin’ a little stiff, sweetheart?” You coo in a sultry sound. Peter feels his blood pressure drop to a life-threatening degree, “Let me help you out.”

Testing the metaphorical, frozen waters; you bring your frigid palm over his bulge. You watch Peter for any sign to retract your hand, fixing him with an intense look. But to your surprise, his cock doesn’t soften under your frosty touch. Not like one would expect. Oh, no. The opposite happens, in fact.

“Mmmmhh…oh my god.” He moans, his front teeth clamping hard into his lip. Jolting in response to his own sensitivity, he rolls his hips into your small hand, “Please…”

You squeeze the thick length of him as well as you can over his jumpsuit, applying more pressure. Awkwardly stroking his dick with your wintry tipped fingers. The bleak touch you cast sends chills racing through Peter’s veins, and sharp pleasure rises in his groin.

“F-Fer the record, by the way, this is not how I expected this to go.” Peter shivers, breathlessly chuckling.

“Oh, no?” You mutter, climbing over Peter on your knees. Glacial breath ghosts his lips. You lean in close, giving his cock another firm squeeze, “Hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Fuuuuuuck no, baby. Not a chance.” Peter groans his reply, lifting his hips. Yearning for more of your gratifying chill. Another wintry wave of cold seizes through his groin, and Peter’s eyes roll back, “Holy shit. That’s it.”

Peter finds himself a little conflicted. His brown hues can’t decide if they wanna gaze into your own, or stare longingly at your lips. In the past, Peter thought about those same lips more often than he’d admit. But to be so up close and personal with them like this…

“I’m not even gonna lie to you, Screwball. I really wanna kiss you right now.” Peter admits defeat. Even in your polar proximity, humiliation burns his cheeks with the force of hellfire.

Knitting your brows, you narrow your eyes. And for a painfully long instant, Peter thinks he’s finally fucked up. As if confessing his desire to kiss you was somehow a step too far over the line.

Is there even a line left between the two of you anymore? Or did you both trip over it the moment you gave him ‘fuck me’ eyes?

You lean in a touch closer, quietly chuckling. Cold puffs of air fan over his lips, a needle-thin space away.

“You’re so silly, y’know that? Why do you keep callin’ me Screwball?” You ask, placing a tantalizing kiss to the corner of his lips. Like the touch of a delicate snowflake, “You make it sound like you think I’m crazy.”

“Well, okay, first of all, you gotta be some kinda crazy. ‘Specially if yer screwin’ around with me.” Peter jokes. He’s beyond winded under the teasing brush of your soft lips, “S-Second of all, it’s an ice cream thing. You ever-uhm…stop by an ice cream truck before?”

Why’s he even doing this? Making casual conversation like it’s a date at the diner. Peter half expects you to pull away. Since this is the least sexiest thing he could be doing. Amazingly, you remain where you are. Trailing kisses across Peter’s cheek, down to his ear. Leaving feather-light sparkles of frost in your wake. Still, they melt within seconds.

“Yeah. Of course I have. So?” You mumble.

He tenses as goosebumps descend down his neck. The tight grip you have on his dick doesn’t let up. Any words Peter planned on saying seem completely lost on him now.

“Uhhhh…Screwball’s the little…it’s got the-uh…gumballs at the bottom. It’s, like, a cone-”

Righteous work, casanova.

“Right. And I’m Screwball because…?”

Damn you, little minx! You know why. The answer’s totally obvious. There’s no way you’re that dense. Nah. You’re just so set on teasing Peter, tempting him to nervously ramble. Like you find his embarrassment…humorous or whatever. Pfffbbtt …

“You messin’ with me? It’s ‘cuz it’s ice cream, yeah? No duh. And ice is, like, yer thing, babe. I dunno. It made more sense in my head.” Peter laughs in spite of himself, “Listen…can I please kiss you? Before I make even more of an ass outta myself?”

In this position, Peter can’t kiss you. Even though it’s all he can think about. You’re too busy mouthing at his neck, grazing his skin with your teeth. Fondling his cock in freezing strokes, making him whine under his breath.

Up until this very moment, Peter’s hands remained mostly still. He’d dig his fingernails into your blankets, as the pleasure of freezer burn simmered in his pelvis. But he held himself back from ever really touching you. Since this little interaction wasn’t supposed to end up like this to begin with.

But now? Well…shit.

You knead at his junk like you’re making biscuits, flicking your icy tongue across the skin of his neck. Eliciting another husky whine from deep in his throat. Peter’s pretty sure, judging by your forwardness; you wouldn’t mind so much if he touched you just a little, right? Like, you totally wouldn’t protest if he brought his large hand to the back of your head, would you?

He threads his fingers through your soft hair, tugging your head back gently. Pulling you from his neck, just so he can meet your wanton eyes again. There’s a single second of hesitation, as both of Peter’s hands claim your cheeks. That second seems to stretch for what feels like an hour, while Peter memorizes the features of your face. His racing, speedster heart leaps at the sight.

He swiftly pulls you down for a kiss. It’s clumsy as all get out. Initially, anyway. But if there’s one thing he can actually pride himself on? At the very least, he’s had a lot of experience with canoodling. Kissing you comes as naturally to Peter as running does. His skillful lips and tongue guide yours effortlessly. Coercing you into a heated makeout session. Against his own, your lips are frosty cold. Like drinking crisp water straight from a chilled glass.

Or…it’s more like he’s lapping his tongue across some kind of…slushy ice cream. Like…a Screwball cone, maybe?

No?

Fuck it. Whatever. The only difference is, you don’t taste anything like cherry. You taste like you. And Peter would argue that’s almost better. Almost. Cherry’s pretty hard to beat. It’s a tough competition.

As you fall victim to his bitchin’ makeout skills, Peter indulges himself. He touches you the way he’s dreamed since forever and a day. His hands glide thick fingers down your chilly body. Feeling every glittering facet of your suit under his fingertips. Meeting the curves of your hips, he squeezes them firmly.

“Mmmmm…this is awesome.” Peter breathes, “This is really fuckin’ awesome.” He hums into your lips, stifling a moan by kissing you again. You stroke his clothed cock a little faster, and he chokes, “O-Oh…yer so awesome. Fuck.”

“You’re really awesome yourself. But I’ve always thought that about you.” You titter, nuzzling his nose so tenderly, “The others on the team? Yeah. They’re alright. But you? Peter, you’re the coolest.” You admit with a bashful smile. After locking him in one more, passionate smooch, you pull away, “Sexy too.”

“W-Wait, really? Are you bein’ serious right now?” Peter asks, stupefied. He furrows his brows. Another beat, and he forces himself to smirk proudly, “I-I mean…well, yeah. Pssshh …of course. Why wouldn’t you think that? I’m the bomb, baby.”

Peter keeps his hands on your hips, feeling your ravishing curves. Stroking them with his thumbs. They fit so perfectly in his grasp. And Goddamn, Peter doesn’t ever wanna let go. Mark his words. Right here, right now. He’ll glue his hands to you forever if he has to.

Lowering your ass over his crotch, you keep your erotic gaze focused on his. Your intense eye contact never seems to break for even a moment. Pressing into the exposed, damp skin of his chest, you brace your freezing hands over Peter’s pecs. A filthy moan teases your lips, as you roll your gorgeous hips forward and back. Grinding into his needy bulge.

Oh.

This is happening now. Fuck yeah.

Peter squirms in place, tightening his hold on your hips. His nails tear at the tiny sequins of your jumpsuit, digging into the sparkling material. It’s such a needlessly skin tight thing, for fuck’s sake. Criminally skin tight, even. How did Xavier ever greenlight that? Peter can see the tempting outline of your pussy in it, deliciously rolling into his clothed cock. His mouth waters at the sight. Lifting his hips off the bed, he meets your slow thrusts.

“Ohhhhh. Oh, what the fuck-” He moans an octave louder.

A strangled sound catches in his throat, and you’re quick to shush him the moment it frees itself.

“Pietro, honey, you gotta be quiet, okay?”

Hushed moans pour from your parted lips as you speak his given name. Peter’s completely bushwhacked at the mention of it. Since no one ever – excluding his mom, in her more frustrated moods – uses that name. A tickling flutter erupts with a burst in his belly. He almost creams himself at the sound of that name in your voice.

“Come on. Be good for me. You can be good for me. Can’t you, baby?” You plead. Moving your hips in a painfully slow, steady rhythm.

“Fuuuuuuuck. Babe, please-” Peter begs, “Faster? Faster, please. Yer killin’ me."

Your sharp nails sink into his bare chest, manifesting more glassy shards of frost. Winter cold seizes Peter’s body entirely, infecting him with frostbite’s kiss. Peter knits his brows tightly, his dark eyes mesmerized with your every movement. The freezing solace permeating from your pussy proves a little too overwhelming. As sharp, pinpricks of cold rush through his veins; it all morphs into carnal heat.

His muscles quickly tighten, every inch of him tensing in an instant.

“Wait wait wait! Fuck!” Peter whimpers in desperation, a flurry of moans erupting from his throat. His rock hard cock twitches, pulsating under you as he cums. Leaking thick streams of his seed into his boxers and jumpsuit, “F-Fuck! I’m sorry, baby! Ohhhhh god! I’m so sorry.”

As far as Peter knows, you have no clue he’s a virgin. Until now, he was content with that. He hadn’t planned on announcing it anytime soon. In hindsight, it’s pretty fucking embarrassing how easily he comes undone. All from a little dry humping, no less.

Yeah. You’re bound to figure it out sooner or later. Yikes.

Sticky, white pearls of his cum seep through his jumpsuit, staining the material. Your erotic motions slow to a stop, once you notice the streaks sticking to your clothed cunt. Tilting your head, you raise a brow. A delicate blush swarms your neck and ears, as you stare down at Peter with genuine surprise. He tilts his head back shamefully, sighing.

“D-Did you just-” You hesitate to continue. Wintry fingertips trace over his bare chest, “Damn, Quickie, that was fast.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Peter sighs again, bringing his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, “Dammit.”

He squeezes his eyes shut tight, feeling blistering warmth rapidly return. Taunting him with the promise of death by suffocation all over again. Before he finally succumbs to it, you crawl over him. Knees braced on either side of his body.

“I’m…god, I’m really fuckin’ sorry about that.” Peter awkwardly stammers, “I-I just…fuck! Yer just so-”

You shush him, chuckling, “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. That was so, sooooooo hot. Really hot, if I’m being honest.”

By virtue of his blessed genes, Peter takes very little time to recover. And hell, you make it an impossible feat not to chub up all over again. Your arctic tongue intertwines with his hotter one, as you meet him in another sloppy kiss. Cold hands grasp his cheeks, quickly sliding through his hair. Dragging your nails across Peter’s scalp, you kiss him with more urgency.

Peter sneaks his hands to your juicy ass, warm palms feeling at your plush booty cheeks. He gives one of them a light, playful smack. Drawing out a squeak from you, Peter giggles into your mouthy kisses. He’s distracted enough, he almost doesn’t notice you tugging the zipper of his jumpsuit.

“C’mon, get this thing off already.” You pull the zipper down even further, murmuring through frantic kisses, “Before you die of heat stroke in my bed.”

With a hmph , Peter nods his head, “Hey, if it’s life ‘er death? Guess I’ve got no choice then, huh?” He replies, fabricating his confidence, “Just a sec.”

Peter sits up fully on your bed, his feet absentmindedly kicking a few plushies on the floor. You slide off the bed entirely. Stepping back to give Peter the space he needs. From your perspective, the removal of his sweaty jumpsuit takes less than a second. But from Peter’s own POV, it’s a thousand years before he finally pulls himself out of his clothes. Clumsily, he peels his sticky limbs free.

“Fuckin’ shit-” He curses, struggling to free one of his ankles once he’s done.

He hadn’t noticed it before, but a faint air of raw cold filters through the space of your room. With his body free of stifling clothing; Peter can finally embrace that coolness in full. It bites sharply at his skin, making him shudder. Peter inhales a slow, deep breath just to feel it all

“Oh, wow! It feels damn good in here, Screwball! Like, woahhh! I feel like I’ve been sweatin’ my balls off this whole time until now.” He says.

“That’s the most charming thing you’ve said all day.” You sarcastically chime. And he snorts.

Peter promptly rids himself of his sweat soaked shirt, aching to feel more frigid air on his skin. He tosses the drenched fabric to the floor. Left in his cum stained boxers, Peter shifts uncomfortably on your bed. Self consciously, he gazes at you with a doe eyed look. He twiddles his thumbs in his lap.

“Sooooooo…uh…a-are you gonna take off yer-uhm…” Peter gives you a once over, gesturing to your jumpsuit.

He lets his long, sturdy legs hang off the side of your bed. Watching as you take slow steps backwards, pulling that tiny, snowflake zipper of yours. Dragging it all the way down. A mischievous spark twinkles in your eye, and Peter’s heart skips a thousand beats. Even though you’re trying your best to be sexy, you’re still just as clumsy as he was.

Which somehow, ultimately makes you even sexier to him.

You peel your limbs out of your glittering jumpsuit. Revealing the underwear beneath, fitting your body in all the right ways. Peter’s adam’s apple bobs, his eyes flitting up and down your curvaceous form. Drinking in the image of you almost completely bare.

“Holy shit.” Peter mumbles, leaning back and bracing his hands on your bed.

You’re giggling again. Blessing his ears with a precious sound he’s grown to adore over the last…however long it’s been since you invited him in. Peter can’t really remember. It’s impossible to hold any sense of rational thought while watching you like this. Especially when you pull off everything except your little, lace panties. Freeing your-

Whoaaaaaaa, mama.

There they are. In all their beautiful, freezing glory. Your icy cold knockers bounce freely. And with a flawlessly executed jiggle, too. If Peter had a sign, he'd rate them a perfect ten.

The skin of your breasts is heavenly soft, dusted in a faint motif of frosty snowflakes. Nipples perky.

Peter's wondered about those suckers for ages. And you most definitely don't disappoint. He whistles, his eyes flying open. Black pupils dilating like drops of heavy ink. No matter how hard he tries, he can't tear his gaze away from those bouncy beauties.

"Damn, Screwball…" Peter grins, shaking his head, "Yer a smokeshow, babe."

Subconsciously, he palms his hardening dick over his boxer briefs. Momentarily grimacing at the texture of drying cum in the fabric. His focused gaze lingers a little too long on your totally righteous titties. You're talking again. Speaking words in that sweet voice, though they go unheard.

Bwah bwah bwah bwah!

You must have given up on trying. He barely sees you coming, as you collide your lips with his again. Shocking him out of his boob-induced daze. The moment you're in close enough range, he reaches out to touch you. Burning hot palms fondle your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples. Furrowing your brows, you squeal into his mouth.

"Your hands-" You whine, "Your hands are so hot. It's like you're on fire." And Peter chuckles a heated breath in response.

"See? And that's why we're here. Gotta beat the heat somehow, eh?" He says, his hands playing with your frosty titties. Silken and cold on his skin.

Sinking to the floor, you lower yourself onto your knees. Peter knows without an ounce of doubt; your poor knees have to be aching like hell right about now. Yet, you persist. He scoots a little further at the edge of your bed, allowing you to ease yourself between his spread legs. With one less layer of clothing in the way of your touch, the coolness feels even more crisp and harsh over his cock.

“God, you’re so pretty…” He mumbles.

Peter stares down at you in awe, curling his fingers into the sheets. Biting your lip with an impish grin, you ease his boxers off completely. As your glimmering eyes meet the full length of his cock, you're instantly enamored. His dick, colored a scarlet hue and pulsing with thick veins, bounces over a silver bush of hair.

You haven't even touched him directly yet. But Peter can already feel that freezing aura easing in close. Swiping your tongue across your plush lips, you gaze at Peter's dick like your hunger hasn't been satiated in weeks.

No words are spoken between you both. As one of your hands treads carefully. Barely touching his thickness with your fingers. You stroke him in slow, but firm motions at first. Peter arches his back in shock, the cold like electricity rushing through his veins. Arctic temperatures rapidly pump his body full of adrenaline.

Maybe that’s why he’s so into this. Being a speedster, he’s always been addicted to the rush of exhilaration.

“Ohhh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Peter moans.

Your strokes slide up to the swollen, purple-ish head of his cock. Squeezing tightly. But the tip is too outrageously sensitive. A simple, icy cold tug of it gets Peter practically seizing. White light flashes through his vision. And just like that, he’s going totally mental. He jumps with an abrupt jerk, his body vibrating.

Peter whimpers in quick gasps, “Ah! N-Not the tip, baby! Not the tip!”

You make a quick retreat, sliding your hand down to the thick base of his length. Pumping his vascular cock in a frosty fist. He can feel his blood vessels constricting with every motion. Cold creeps under his skin, bringing with it a burning sensation. Peter’s groin tightens, and his moans turn to pleading whimpers.

With a cheshire grin, you flutter your lashes over a naughty gaze. Leaning forward, you tease the smooth length of his cock with your lips. Kitten licking a vein with the tip of your tongue.

“W-Wait! Hold on, Screwball! Fuck-” One of Peter’s hands finds your head, clutching strands of your hair between his fingers, “It’s too much, baby! I can’t-”

A long, chilling swipe of your tongue brings momentary crystals of ice. Igniting the burn along his skin. Peter never thought himself a masochist. But this freaky, frosty jerk-off session has somehow completely rewired his brain chemistry. Pain never felt so good.

In all your wickedness, little minx, you refuse to heed Peter’s warning. Your mouth engulfs the scorching heat of his cock. Surrounding him in a crisp, cold shroud. Bringing upon him a vengeance of the bleakest kind. Like a frostbitten hug, sending shockwaves of pleasure fluttering through his bones. Peter’s breathing quickens.

“Ah! FUCK! Gonna fuckin-...I’m fuckin’ cumming, baby! Sorry, sorry, sorr-” He falters over broken whines.

Acting on impulse like the total spaz he is, Peter panics. Tugging your head from his cock so he doesn’t bust a load in your mouth. He lags a few seconds behind. Late again, as per usual.

Peter accidentally showers your precious lips in his cum. Painting your face in hot, messy strands of it. He writhes in place, sluggishly rocking his hips forward. The spurting tip of his dick kisses your lips, the length bouncing with every eruption of thick, sticky heat.

For a second time in a row, he’s blown his load prematurely. Impressive, in a really lame way. But, hey, even if Peter feels a little bad for glossing you in his cum. He’s gotta admit, you look drop dead gorgeous like this.

Peter quickly snaps out of his post-nut daze, his eyes dancing across your decorated face.

Ah. Actually, now that he’s thinking somewhat clearly again…it’s a little gross. He fumbles over an onslaught of apologies. Reaching to the floor for his discarded shirt without thinking, he wipes your face clean of his nut.

Wait. Fuck. Why’d he use his shirt? Shit. Get it together, Quickie!

As always, you’re just as chill about this as you have been everything else, “That wasn’t so bad. But thanks. Sorry about your shirt, though.” You giggle. But all Peter does is shamefully laugh in response.

You’re perceptive enough to catch onto his sudden hesitance. He tenses, avoiding your pretty eyes. Bouncing a nervous leg at the speed of a rabbit’s kicks. Twice now, you’ve seen him finish way too early. And though he knows in his heart you wouldn’t judge him for his lack of experience; a small part of him fears the worst.

He really likes you, actually. It’d hurt like hell if you thought less of him over something so trivial.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” You ask. Playful, but still concerned.

Peter’s heart aches in the presence of your gentle nature. Swallowing his pride, he opts to confess. And if you think him pathetic for being a thirty year old virgin? Fuck it. He’s betting Hank’s mini fridge is still vacant.

You’re resting on your knees in between his legs, tracing feather-light, frosty patterns into his thigh. Peter’s skin swiftly erupts in goosebumps again, his body never accustomed to your arctic touch. Taking a deep breath, he drops his head forward.

“I…gotta be honest with ya about somethin’. I’ts-...” Peter cuts himself off with a sigh, burying his face in his hands, “I’m kind of…a virgin. Y’know, if you couldn’t already tell. I just…didn’t wanna say anything.”

“Pfffttt …” You puff in disbelief, like you’re assuming he’s messing with you. But Peter blinks, staring down into your eyes with a look that tells you he’s all business, “You’re serious? But, Peter, no offense? I’m really surprised! You always seemed like such a player. Like, you flirt with literally everyone.”

Peter stares at you in silence. He shakes his head, brows furrowed. A timid grin curling into his lips.

“I guess? I talk a big game, yeah. And I’ve made out with a lotta girls. Screwed around a few times. But…nah. I’ve never-uh…actually, really screwed. I dunno if the timing was never right or what, but…” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance. Despite fighting an internal war of crippling shame.

“Well, we’ll just have to remedy this then, won’t we?” Your hand rises to his chin, thumb tenderly stroking rough, silver stubble.

His eyes fly open, cheeks swarming a bright red. A beat, and Peter’s dick already twitches to life again at the prospect of your offer. However, despite his body’s insatiable desire, he waves his hands and shakes his head.

“N-No! No, babe! Listen, you don’t have to. I really wasn’t implyin’ anything when I said…uh…it’s just…I-I’ve never told anyone. That's all!”

“It’s fine! I said I would take care of you, didn’t I?”

He swallows, caught off guard by your choice of words. ‘Take care of you.’ His brows raise high, and the cartoonishly fast pounding of his heart returns. Fluttering in his chest, hiking up to sonic speed. Peter opens his mouth to protest, to remind you that you shouldn’t feel pressured into stealing his v-card.

But you’re already pushing yourself off the floor, climbing over Peter on your bed. With your icy hand to his chest, you guide him down onto his back. He gazes up at you with an uncertain, but lustful look in his dark eyes. In spite of the significantly cooler temperature of your room; Peter’s entire body breaks out in a humid sweat.

Okay. Calm down, man. Take a chill pill. Relax.

“You got any condoms?” You ask, blunt and up front.

So. This is really happening, huh? Yeah. Peter’s gonna lose his v-card to one of his teammates. No biggie. Screwing his fellow X-Man Screwball? Totally not a big deal.

Peter swallows dryly again, an awkward chuckle vibrating over his tongue.

“Not on me, no. I don’t really-uhhh…carry those around.” He makes a hasty move to sit up, “But I can run to the store really quick and grab some. Y’wanna snack ‘er a drink while I’m at it? I could really go fer somethin’ sweet like-”

Your frosty lips capture his in yet another, intimate kiss. For the sake of Peter’s inexperience, you take your time. Guiding Peter down onto his back once more. Working with tender consideration. When your tongue so lovingly swirls with his, he scowls. Tasting the lingering bitterness of his nut. He curls his lip.

“Euuuugh! Augh! Blegh! Is that really what I taste like? Eck! I’m so sorry, Screwball. I’ll try to spare ya next time. Eugh. That’s disgusting!” He rambles, overcompensating for his uneasy nerves again.

“Next time?” You raise your brows. Supple, wet lips smirking.

“Y-Yeah? Yeah…like… pfftt …if you want…” Peter shrugs, casual, blinking puppy dog eyes, “I dunno about you, but I’m havin’ a killer time fuckin’ around like this.” He adds, fingers toying with the hem of your panties.

Reaching for his cock, you take his length into your icy cold grip. Peter jolts again, cursing under his breath.

“I need to confess something too.” You say, bashful. Peter watches your facade of confidence diminish for a moment, “Would you still wanna do this if I told you I’m just as cold on the inside?”

“Woah…yeah. Listen, that is the opposite of a problem for me.” Peter reassures you, looking between your bodies, “Call me crazy? I’m really diggin’ the whole cold thing.”

He watches your fingers hook through the hem of your panties, sliding them down your smooth legs. It’s a bit awkward for you to get them off in this position. But eventually, you’re entirely exposed.

No more messing around. This is the real deal.

Wiggling your ass, you position your wintry cunt over his cock’s swollen head. Peter’s fingers tremble as they grab your ass for purchase. Holding you steady, he keeps his lidded gaze on your pussy. Entranced in the sight of your puffy lips lowering over his tip. Barely nudging it in, giving just a little tease of what’s to come. He shivers, muscles locking, shockwaves of glacial cold racing through his veins already.

“Ohhhhhhhh …wow…” He whines, teeth clamping his lip, “Please, ya gotta gimme more than that, baby.”

“Pietro, be patient.” You chastise him, fluttering your eyes closed.

Sighs and erotic moans of euphoria rise from the both of you in unison, just as his leaking tip dives through your cushiony walls. Peter shudders again, craning his neck back. Moaning a broken, strangled sound from deep in his chest. The tight, freezing sting of your cunt causes him to tense up. Peter digs his nails into the flesh of your ass, his lips parting for breath.

“Mmmmmfffuuck. You good? You okay?” You ask, little mewls bubbling in your throat.

Through frantic, wordless intakes of breath, Peter nods.

He’s never felt anything like this in all his thirty years of life. It’s a completely new sensation. The plushiest of pins and needles constricting tightly around his cock. Or the world’s softest pillow, pulled straight out of the freezer. Sex with you is the kind he could so easily become addicted to. If it was possible to stay connected this intimately forever, he’d do so in a heartbeat. No questions asked. Totally worth the searing pain of frostbite.

You take a few moments to adjust to the length and girth of him. It feels like centuries before you’re moving, but the wait is more than worth it. Your cunt weeps around his cock, swallowing him up completely in a frosty slickness. Peter chokes, his breath hitching. The pace you set is frustratingly slow, bouncing into his pelvis in steady slams of bush on silver bush.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that. More? C’mon gimme more, baby, please. Oh, please!” He whines, submissive and needy.

Sitting up a little straighter, you balance your cool hands on his chest. Peter’s skin is all raw and red, frostbitten from your previous teasing. It’s a little painful now, actually. Leaving a tingly burn. But the stinging pain registers as pleasure in Peter’s speedy brain.

Your pussy molds perfectly with the thick shape of him. Roughly shocking you with a surge of dull pain, Peter’s cock knocks straight into your squishy cervix. His expression contorts in overstimulation, his mouth falling open. He wets his lips with his tongue.

“That’s it. Fuckin’ ride me. Mmmmm yeah~” Peter moans, “Yer so fuckin’ cold. Shit-” His moans steadily trail off into whimpers.

“Should I stop? Is it too much?” You halt your movements for a second too long.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ stop.” He groans, animalistic and ragged, “Ohhhh~ Please don’t stop.”

As you thrust your beautiful body into his lap, Peter follows your lead. Driving his hips against your ass with each bounce of contact. Overshadowing that sultry melody of Pink Floyd with the lewd smacking of skin on skin. Your cunt hugs his cock in a grip tight enough to induce more freezer burn. But it’s such an alluring feeling, he bites his lip almost hard enough to draw blood.

Peter’s brown-eyed gaze rakes down your body. Intoxicated with the way your titties bounce and your pussy sucks the ever-speeding soul out of him. He has to mentally-prep himself so he doesn’t cum too soon again. But the piercing cold compressing his dick sends thrilling pulses through his limbs. Erotic pleasure burns deep in his gut.

“Pietro!” You cry. Riding his dick and mewling soft kitten noises, you circle your little clit with your fingers, “Want me to cum on your cock, pretty boy? Wanna feel this tight, little pussy cum for you?”

Ohhhhh. You can’t do that to him. Dirty, little minx. He’s never heard such filthy words like that come out of your mouth. And the way you sound, how you look touching yourself on his cock; It all triggers a carnal instinct in the recesses of his mind.

Peter lifts his hips in a display of super strength, abusing your cervix repeatedly with his cock. Pounding your pussy so fast and hard. With a force deep and rough enough to make you see stars. A filthy squelch of a sound echoes from inside you.

“Oh my god-” Peter’s face contorts in needy desperation, brows creasing, “Please? Wanna feel you cum, baby. Need you to cum on my dick so bad.”

Sitting up on his elbows with his mouth hanging lazily open, Peter brings his fingers to his drooling tongue. His eyes are half lidded and cloudy, almost rolling back into his skull. He reaches out, the wet pads of his fingers meeting your cute bud. He buzzes his digits in a scorching vibration, knowing how sensitive you are to his heat. Easily coaxing you towards release.

“HOH! FUCK-” Peter’s eyes flutter in shock, “ Ohmyfuckingod that’s really fuckin’ tight. ”

His body tenses hard as stone. Feeling you clench around him while he fucks you so deep he thinks he’s reached your stomach. Within a few, measly seconds of teasing vibrations on your clit; you’re cumming. Coating his cock in a wave of crisp slickness. You tremble uncontrollably, tilting your head back and crying like a siren of the arctic seas. Singing a mantra of the name Pietro.

Peter grips your hips hard with both hands, sinking his blunt nails into your skin. Animalistic instinct overflows his mind as soon as he’s reached his own peak. Ecstasy tumbles over Peter in an overwhelming crash, much like an avalanche. And just as he’s pumping you impossibly full of hot, thick ropes of cum; something happens.

His release burns inside you, pooling in a milky heat. A stark contrast to the freezing temperature constantly flowing through your body. Your nails scratch red lines into his chest, manifesting glass crystals of frost. They burn like hell, and Peter hisses. One, final slap of your ass against his lap, and –

A ripple of explosive, winter cold rushes from your body in a flash. The bombastic wave coats your entire room in powdery snow and sheets of ice. Turning the small space into a glorified freezer. It even hits the record player, slowing the final tune of Obscured by Clouds to a creeping stop. Piercing cold fires through Peter’s lungs, and he chokes on it.

…D…Did that really just happen??

Glancing around frantically, he pushes himself up on your bed.

A soft, tingling blanket of snow drapes his body. Peter sputters, quickly brushing as much of it off as he can. You’re still sitting over his lap, his softening dick tucked safely between your pussy’s plush walls. With every puff of warm air from his lungs, Peter can see his breath fanning like smoke through the air.

“Woooahhhhh, babe…” He nudges you on the shoulder to get your attention, his expression wide eyed and bewildered, “Are you seein’ this shit?”

Recovering from your numbing state of euphoria, you lazily scan your room. You gasp, though it sounds more like a really cute squeak; covering your mouth with a hand.

“Ah! What the hell did I do!? I’m sorry! Oh my god, Peter, I’m so sorry!” You say, dropping your face into Peter’s frost-bitten chest.

He hisses as you lean into his sensitive, scarred skin. And before you can spout off another flurry of sweet apologies – a noise catches the attention of you both. Outside, the two of you hear the unmistakable sound of children’s laughter. Joyful cries, followed by playful giggles and screams. You raise your head, meeting Peter’s doe eyes with a questioning look.

Narrowing his eyes, he pats your thigh. Signaling you to hop off his lap.

Clumsily, Peter zips around the room in a blur, searching for something to cover himself up with. But his clothes are all caked in snow. And not to mention a little something else. Peter has to resort to a blanket stuffed underneath all the others on your bed. Untouched by your surprise blizzard. He cloaks himself in the blanket, appearing at your door in a fwip.

Discreetly, he pulls the door open.

Or, at least, he makes an attempt. It’s completely frozen in place, sealed with ice around the lock and hinges.. Why is he even surprised at this point? Peter tugs the handle once or twice with barely any strength. And when that doesn’t work, he jerks it open with a harsh flex of his muscles. He pokes his fluffy, silverette head halfway out the door. Looking up and down the hallways.

Only to find…

Your orgasmic snowstorm reached places far beyond the confined space of your room. Looks like Christmas came early this year. The hallways of Xavier’s mansion are all drenched in frosty spreads of snow. It’s not nearly as much as what’s accumulated in your room. But it’s enough to stir up the students and teachers. Many of the kids run around excitedly. Bouncing, cheering, celebrating.

And who can blame them?

To those unseen forces of the universe out there: thanks for blessing us all with the power of Screwball's ecstasy.

Out of nowhere, the X-Men’s laser eyed leader makes his appearance. Scott comes skidding to a halt outside your door just at that moment. He balances himself with a hand to your door, a genial smile on his face. A fuzzy fust of red tickles the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

Across the hall, Logan leans casually against a wall. Puffing a cigar, wearing a thin undershirt that compliments his jacked form a little too well. He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his fitted jeans.

For a moment, Scott doesn’t seem to register why Peter’s even in your room.

But in this life, one speedster can only be so lucky.

“Wh-...Peter? Hey-uh…where’s-” Scott mentions your name, and continues, “I wanted to give ‘em my thanks for doing this.” He gestures over his shoulder to the mess of snow covering the walls and floors, “Some of the kids were getting really sick from the weather. And I know Xavier's gonna be pissed, but-...” His voice slowly trails off.

Scott’s smile falls for a beat. But Peter finds it hard to read his emotions without seeing his eyes clearly. Those sunglasses must do him loads of favors on a daily basis. If he tries, he can gauge what’s going through Scott’s head based on the look of surprise that crosses his face. Followed by a sly, knowing grin.

Summers is an intelligent guy. It doesn’t take long for him to put two and two together.

Especially with the way Peter stands in your doorway. He’s draped in a blanket that clearly isn’t his, shoulders bare underneath. The surface of his skin burns cherry red in some places. His hair is a tousled, fuzzy mess, and his cheeks are flushed bright pink.

Peter awkwardly swallows, avoiding the vibrant gaze of Scott’s red-tinted sunglasses. He directs his attention over his shoulder instead, making accidental eye contact with Logan. Wolvie arches a thick, quizzical brow, his eyes glancing over Peter’s blanketed form.

He really hadn’t meant for anyone to find out about this. But it looks like the cat’s out of the bag.

“You kids better be using protection.” Scott jokes, patronizing.

Which is funny, coming from him. Peter’s got ten years on him at the least.

“Uhhhh, yeah. I’ll totally tell ‘em you said thanks. We cool? Bitchin’. Later, Summers.” Peter rushes through his words ultra fast, before slamming the door shut behind him.

That’ll be a rough one to explain later. But hopefully no one’ll be nosy enough to pry. Besides, Peter doesn’t wanna think about it right now. Since, y’know, he kinda just got laid for the first time. Which is really fucking awesome, now that he can stop and really digest that it happened. And with someone he’s been crushing on too.

Maybe he’s luckier than he thought.

Peter presses his back against your icy door, letting the thick blanket covering his body fall to the floor. Leaving him butt ass naked in your freezer of a room. He rakes his fingers through his hair, cheesing a goofy smile to himself.

“What’s goin’ on? Were you talkin’ to someone?” You ask, emerging from your bathroom and brushing snow off a towel.

“Oh- pfffttt …just Summers. Yeah. He-uh…wanted to tell you thanks. ‘Cuz you kinda went all blizzard on this whole place and now it’s, like-” Peter makes a wide gesture with his hands, mimicking the sound of an avalanche falling. Or, that’s what he tries to do, anyway. He’s never been the best at charades.

“HUH!? What are you-” You rush to your door. Those pretty titties of yours bounce with every step. And Peter ogles them shamelessly. Poking your head through the door, he overhears the sound of your gasp. Followed by the shyest little, “Heyyyyyy, Logan.”

Before you’re closing the door again, marching to your bathroom with your head cast down in shame.

“Xavier’s gonna kill me, dude! I can’t believe this!” You whisper-shout.

Your bashfulness and frustration are so cute, Peter has to refrain from snickering. And as you reach the doorway, you stop yourself. He catches the motion of your eyes checking him out, before your gazes meet again. Peter smirks.

“Uhm…how was your first time, by the way?” You ask in a quiet, uncertain tone, “Was it…okay?”

Oh, you cannot even be serious right now.

Peter gives you a weird look. Staring at you like you’re some strange, newly discovered entity from a far off universe. Really, you must be, if you’re gonna question a good time like that.

“Okay? Okay?? ” Peter appears before you in less than a blink’s time.

He wraps his strong arm around your waist, pulling you close to his body. Grinning confidently, he darts down to kiss your frosty lips.

“Screwball, baby, that was a total rush. Are you crazy? It’s not every day I make somebody cum so hard they kickstart an early winter, y’know. Not bad fer my first time, if I do say so myself.” He waggles his brows.

I’m really glad I could help you out…” You mutter, smiling so sweet.

Your fingers trace the burns littering Peter’s chest with a feather-light touch. Even the faintest brush makes him wince in pain. But he’s not ashamed to admit it’s totally worth it. What’s a little freezer burn and frostbite between friends, huh?

Or, between…whatever the two of you are now.

“Oh, you did wayyyy more than help me out.” Peter winks, kissing you once more, “You rocked my world babe. Don’t sweat it, ‘kay? I had a great time.”

You saunter off to your bathroom then. And Peter reaches out to playfully smack your ass as you walk away. He admires your gorgeous figure in all its naked glory. His eyes following the jiggle of your booty cheeks.

“Yer still takin’ me on that date, right? Dinner and a movie?” He asks, startling you with his sudden appearance in the bathroom. Peter presses himself into your back, standing tall in comparison to your height.

“Can we hold off? Do you think you can wait until the city isn’t on fire?” You meet his dark eyes in the mirror over the sink, “And it can’t be Howard the Duck.”

“No. It’s most definitely gotta be Howard the Duck.” Peter brings his warm hands to your shoulders, thumbs gliding along your soft skin. He leans down to pepper your sex hair in kisses, “I won’t accept nothin’ else, got it?

“Mmmhm. Shouldn’t I be the judge of that, Peter? Since, like, you keep implying I’m the one paying.”

He scoffs, slowly gliding his large hands over the irresistible curves of your body. He gives a mischievous grin through the mirror, his look oozing speedster charm.

“Who said anything about paying?”

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x y/n #txt #smut

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tojifile · 5 months

Note

Hey, can I make a request for your event?

Fyodor x fem!reader, except he's madly in love with her but doesn't accept it bc he thinks it's useless :)

@Fyodor Dostoevsky . . . (＾-＾)

Tags: smitten!fyodor, fluff, angst if you squint, gn!reader, domestic Fyodor, kinda ooc, vol 14+ doesn’t exist, yandere themes if you get 400+ graded glasses

A/N: Hello anon !! I’m so sorry this took so long, probably 2-4 months (?) I’ve been so busy with school that I just didn’t have time for requests. I’ll treat my fics like those “mafia!dazai who…” type of posts, if that makes sense. I know it’s a big change from my old writing style but I really hope you would still like it :))

smitten!fyodor who met you while walking around Yokohama. He asked you for directions one day and as faith would have it that was the exact place you were going to as well. Although, he didn’t actually need directions, he just wanted to test his skills in deceit.

“Excuse me miss, pardon me for being a bother. Could you please tell me where the nearest train is?” You softly smiled at the gentleman who had gotten your attention. “Of course, I was just heading there myself, you could just follow me if you’d like.”

smitten!fyodor who was fond of the way you spoke to him in such a polite manner. It was endearing to have someone be so courteous (bare minimum, I know).

smitten!fyodor whose voice you couldn’t forget. Softer than silk yet even the sun itself would revolve around its gravity.

smitten!fyodor who “accidentally” bumps into you from time to time. It’s been going on for several months now and during the first few times you jokingly accused him of stalking you.

“Fyodor-san? This is the fourth time this month, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me!” You teased. He responded to your joke with a small chuckle.

smitten!fyodor who denies feeling anything for you since he thinks it would hinder his plans for a better world. He constantly tells himself that it’ll pass, but each day he spends with you feels like a dream.

smitten!fyodor who reassures himself that this was all part of his master plan; that you were just another pawn in his epic chess match with Dazai. Surely someone as simple as you couldn’t destroy his plans, right?

smitten!fyodor who tells himself that keeping you happy is all part of his mission to save the world. When he’s overthinking his actions around you he tells himself that he only keeps you happy because a world where you’re sad confuses and frustrates him—oops, wrong thought!

What frustrates him further is the fact that he can no longer tell himself that you’re just a pawn. He never has internal struggles, so how could you do this to him? For years and years he chased his ideals. He tried to attain the unattainable, he never thought something as simple as affection could be that unattainable thing.

smitten!fyodor who saw you on a date with somebody else and he felt like that was God’s way of telling him that he should continue to fulfill his mission rather than chase someone who clearly doesn’t like him back.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

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alreadyblondenow · 4 months

Text

▸ Assassin Jaehyun x Assassin Female reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Gore, MATURE ▸ JAEHYUN SMUT SERIES: FUCK, MARRY, KILL ▸ VOLUME I: PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

THIS IS PART 3. THIS IS PART 3. THIS IS PART 3.

VOLUME I: PART 2 WORD COUNT: 10,748k

Warnings: THIS FIC IS FICTION ONLY, Smut, smut, smut, MATURE THEMES, Heavy description of killings because most of the characters are assassins, mentions of blood, character death, A LOT OF NCT MEMBERS WILL D WORD IN THIS FIC, unprotected sex, mentions of condoms, mentions of pill, pregnancy, swearing, mentions of alcohol. Mentions of being an orphan, Not everything is proofread, apologies again. Kidnapping, burning of possession, I hope I did not forget anything.

A/N: I will cut VOLUME I into three parts, PART I AND PART II is posted already. Thank you to my readers!!! Im sorry if it took me so long to post a usual. VOLUME 2 will be posted HOPEFULLY BY THE END OF FEBRUARY :( please understand that I want to support Taeyong's second solo album first.

When Jaehyun needed to let go of your hand and allow the doctors to do their job, everything became silent and he never felt so weak like this before. It was not too long when the others came but Jaehyun already lost himself and kept thinking who did this to you. There’s only one man in his mind though, Kun.

By the time you were stable and safe from death, Jaehyun couldn’t let go of your hand, even while he was sleeping. But days passed by slowly, and your condition wasn't getting any better, this is where he started feeling angry again, frustrated because he couldn't do anything to wake you up. He didn’t have any choice but to go back to where he’s good at. Killing.

“Save yourself from the trouble, let us handle this stay here with her, she’ll love it when she wakes up and you’re beside her” Yuta tried to persuade Jaehyun.

“I’ll do this on my own. Keep her safe for me. When she wakes up… tell her I’ll be with her soon” Jaehyun says before kissing you goodbye, whispering sweet things beside your ear.

“Please don’t leave me. I will be nothing without you” he says.

During the days that he’s tracking Kun, Jaehyun promises to himself that from now on, he will be a boss while being an assassin himself, killing everyone that goes on his way, he is blinded by his anger and want for revenge. He will work harder to achieve piece in your lives even tho he needs to bring chaos first.

When Jaehyun finally met Kun face to face, he did not know why finding and looking for him felt wrong, it was as if the clues that he had never pointed him to Kun’s direction but he kept on insisting on blaming Kun… because he really don’t know who to kill.

“Do you know why the Phantoms are always ahead of you…. Because you’re stupid” Kun mocks Jaehyun. “I’ll tell you who wanted Y/n dead but I want something big in return”

“You can’t bring money on your deathbed Kun. Come on be creative, ask for something else”

Kun just gave him a mocking smile.

“So who wanted Y/n dead?” Jaehyun asked, pointing his gun toward Kun.

“I think you can answer that question… actually, I think you know the answer already”

It was quiet for some time. Crazy how Kun’s words were true and Jaehyun was just denying the fact that… his father is the one who wanted you dead. He had a hunch already. But blood is still blood. Jaehyun couldn’t swallow that pill.

“Imagine this Jaehyun… you and Y/n in a faraway place. Get married privately. Away from all the family drama. Build a home. Build a family. Isn’t that what you want? Well… according to Hendery that’s what Y/n wanted”

Immediately Jaehyun’s world stopped. Kun already knew that he was about to get what he wanted in this life. It's not easy to have a deal with a Phantom, but for you, Jaehyun is willing to risk that.

“Just tell me if I should do the dirty work Jeong” Kun added.

By the time you gain continuousness and finally awake from your deep sleep, you look for Jaehyun beside you but it was Mark you saw first, followed by Yuta who just entered the room with a cup of noodles. Of course, you remember being food poisoned, coughing blood and staining Jaehyun’s clothes, you still remember the horrible memories before you closed your eyes that time.

“I know you miss Jaehyun even when you’re sleeping— but he just got home from a mission alone… he will be here soon” Mark whispered. “He did it Y/n, he killed Kun. The last of the Phantoms” Yuta added.

“How long was I sleeping?” You asked weakly. You can’t believe that Jaehyun was back to killing while you were out. He hasn’t gotten his hand dirty for years.

“Roughly 14 days-“

“He tracked and killed Kun in 14 days?” You let out a laugh.

“Well, we almost lost you Y/n” Mark said and you can only imagine how Jaehyun felt.

While waiting for Jaehyun to arrive, you fell asleep and dreamt of him kissing and snuggling you under the beautiful sunset, holding hands while enjoying the warmth of the sun, little did you know, Jaehyun was already beside you. Trying to gently wake you up. And by the time you opened your eyes, his lips found yours and you pulled him in for an embrace. He look tired, he got thin in a matter of days.

“Let’s go far away from this place and live peacefully” he asked of you sweetly. “Do you like that?” His hands found yours, he was cold and shaking, oh how you wish it was warm and relaxed like how you dreamt of him.

After being discharged from the hospital, he was focused on you. He even discharged you from the hospital himself and drove you home. A new house. Everything happened so fast, and you don’t know why Jaehyun is like this. He never left the house, he’s always by your side but he’s always on his toes, always on the phone, almost not sleeping. What’s happening?

“Here, you feeling okay?” He handed you your medicine and a glass of water, watching you very carefully as you take everything.

“Why are you watching me like a hawk Jae?” Your arms immediately wrapped around him. You’re still weak and he can see it.

“I’m just doing my job” he smiles and kisses your forehead before he returns the embrace. He’s always by your side lately, you’re not complaining but you wish he could be honest and tell you everything.

“Hmm. That’s my job. Protecting you Jeong Yoonoh” you teased him. He just laughed.

“Do you know how painful it is to watch you sleep, and talk to you while you were unconscious? I never want that to happen again. I felt so hopeless. It’s like I was ready to die any minute”

Of course you know what he felt. You almost lost him too. “From now on… can you just let me… let me protect you. Let me take care of you. No questions asked?” He looked you in the eye and waited for your answer.

You just nod.

After a few weeks of staying in the new house, Jaehyun surprised you with a long vacation in Italy. You already knew that this trip was a secret to the world. A trip between you and Jaehyun only while Taeyong, Mark, and Yuta are on standby protecting you and Jaehyun. “I don’t like this princess treatment. What is going on?” You asked Taeyong sternly. But as per Jaehyun’s request, he did not tell you anything.

Jaehyun was extremely quiet during the trip. Almost as if his mind is somewhere else but you couldn’t ask him. You feel like he’s somewhere else.

It was dark when you two arrived at this secluded farm but you trusted Jaehyun’s words, “you’ll love this place” The house was simple. There’s grass everywhere, beautiful garden, all kinds of flowers and shrubs, and you can hear crickets around the place. The moon was shining brightly too. Nothing fancy, when you two walked in. Theres a nice living room, filled with unique furniture and nice trinkets. “Could be better if the family who lived here put up some family pictures,” you said.

Jaehyun was quiet, but smiling.

The kitchen was perfect you thought, you remember daydreaming about having your own kitchen like this. Big stove, an oven for baking, a wooden dining table for your future family… its perfect.

“This place is breathtaking—“ you said as you enter the masters bedroom room and was quickly grabbed by the waist.

“Wait until the morning,” he smiled before kissing you lovingly.

It was the first time ever again that you two shared a bed. You have no idea what’s keeping Jaehyun away from you but nonetheless, you understand. And since this is the first time you two shared the bed, you noticed that he wasn’t planning on sleeping. It’s either you feel him keep you closer to his body, you hear him text or call someone, and the next thing you know the sun is shining already and he’s making you breakfast.

“Did you even sleep?” You asked him while he was busy cooking eggs. You hugged him from behind and greeted him ‘good morning’

“For an hour, yeah. I needed to take some calls so I couldn’t join you in your sleep. Dreamt about me?” He flirted and kissed you good morning.

“Yeah. Dreamt about you sleeping beside me… only to find out you didn’t even rest properly” you chuckled and bravely asked, “what’s wrong? If work is so heavy that you couldn’t let go of your phone then why are we here?”

“I thought you promised that you will never question the way I protect you?” He was smiling but little did he know… you’re already pissed. You couldn’t argue with him anymore because he was on his phone again answering yet another important call.

For days Jaehyun couldn’t answer your question. He’s not helping you understand him… even though you’re more than willing to.

It hurts to turn your back on him whenever he reaches out for you. It hurts that you avoid him in this beautiful place that was meant to be enjoyed together. At this point… you just want to go home and leave this beautiful place.

So you told him.

“I don’t want to fight. I’m too weak for that. I am forever grateful that you want to protect me but, this is suffocating Jae. You’re not even communicating—“

And then Jaehyun get on his knees and took your words away.

He’s proposing… out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry. I’m not perfect but I’m really trying to do things my own way. Can you be my wife? And you know… make a man out of me?” He chuckled and waited for your answer. Of course you said yes. You can feel his heartbeat, beating so fast while you hug him tight.

“I’m working double time and looking for a suitable replacement for my place at the table so we could never leave this place anymore. That’s why” he added and put the ring on your finger. “Wow. You finally said ‘yes’” he teased you and kissed you before apologizing once again.

Gone are the days that the house was dead silent. Now its full of laughter and sweet whispers, only between you and Jaehyun.

He changed his ways immediately, making sure you understood what he was trying to do. Soon Jaehyun realized how much help you could been if only he told you a little bit sooner.

As days go by you two enjoy the place together, you try so hard to make breakfast warmer and sweeter each day, spend the days like a normal couple would do, stroll around the small town and enjoy its uniqueness, swim in rivers and kiss during sunset, appreciate the quiet evening where you can only hear crickets singing while you two sat at the front porch.

“Good morning,” he hugged you from behind in this cold morning. You were happy he’s back to his normal self and gave him kisses that are long overdue. Innocent kisses that are sweet but wet, you can tell by the way his tongue moves that he missed you too. The way his kisses are soft but you know he’s up to something even more.

His hands were swift to remove your sleepwear until you’re naked beneath him as the morning sun hits you perfectly. You watch him remove his sweatpants and underwear and he was excited to go back to your lips again. He missed being on top of you, being able to see the woman that he loves like this again.

“I’m sorry if being like a horny teenager this morning. I really missed you” he apologized and kissed you again, hands reaching both of your legs and spreading them wide while you check your slit with your right hand if you’re wet already and you’re ready for that cock of his.

“Don’t apologize, you’re not a stranger” you whispered sweetly while you pump his cock and kiss his lips. He didn’t wait for another second to push in. He couldn’t wait anymore.

He missed your warm walls. He missed your lips. He missed hearing your moans beside his ears he missed your touch. Your hands are around his neck. Never leaving his skin and continuously pulling him back closer to you whenever he tries to pull away for a different sex position. He let out a soft laugh, kissing the shell of your ear and making you weak. The way he fucks you this morning is soft, as if he’s really telling you he missed you.

The way his cock goes in and out of your hole, slowly but deep. It was addicting. Then he flips you around, putting you on your stomach but never leaving your lips. He pushed in again while your legs are still closed, making your hole tighter to Jaehyun’s liking. This is how he wanted it. Tight and slow, but giving you hard thrust while hitting the right spot. “Fuck,” you said and catch your breath. You felt your high come down already but Jaehyun is still building his. What the fuck you thought with a smile. You feel his lips travel around your back, his strong arms wrapped around your body, touching, pinching and even smacking your skin oh so lightly it tickles you.

“Marry me”

He suddenly said.

“Marry me,” he repeated it while thrusting deep inside you. You tried looking back at him to see his eyes but he was quick to catch your lips and fuck you faster. He was near.

He flips you again so he could see your eyes and beautiful face, still waiting for the sweet answer. Hopefully. He was working hard for it, as you can see.

Rubbing his hand on your hard nipples as he fucks you slow and deep. His lips never leave your lips, telling you how much he loves you. He reached for your hand and intertwined it with yours, “Marry me,” he asked again, this time looking at your eyes and left a kiss your lips which made you completely stunned… and all you did was nod your head with a smile as an answer.

You saw how Jaehyun’s face lit up the moment you answered him. How he was genuinely happy. That you finally said ‘yes’.

He let go of your hand and put on your legs, spreading them wide while he pushes deeper. You watch Jaehyun moan on top of you, eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. He was really hard and you feel it stretch you every time he push right back in.

Faster he fucks you, making your boobs bounce and making you moan so loud. By the time he reaches his high his thrust were harder than before almost hurting you with the impact. But the hurt was so good it’s addicting.

He rested his head beside your ear, putting all of his weight on top of you. Oh you love it when he do this…

“I love you. Thank you for saying ‘yes’ I will make you the happiest girl in the world-“

“You already did Jae,”

He smiled and caged you with his strong arms. It was a good day. A good day to start a new life together.

A good day to get married privately.

“Don’t you think this is kinda rushed and impulsive?” You said as Jaehyun drags you to the nearby church and talk to the locals for your wedding.

Well, he’s Jaehyun. If he wants to get married today, then a wedding is going to happen.

“Don’t you want to get married soon?” He asked back.

“I want to but—“

“Then today is perfect!” He smiled so big as he hands you your flowers and pick the nicest wedding rings for the two of you. You’ve never seen Jaehyun like this before… but what did you expect? He really wanted to marry you and today, nothings going to stop him from being happy. As you watch him wear his smile that you gave, you can’t help but think about how you couldn’t just kill his joy now.

The wedding was special. Nothing fancy. Just a the two of you, a witness and your promises to each other.

“We’ll have a proper wedding if you want. We can invite the others and it will be a big celebration” he says excitedly while kissing you softly, motioning you towards your shared room, not even bothering to open the lights even though the sun came down already.

Jaehyun was gentle and it was clear what he wanted to do on your wedding night. He was doing everything he can, kissing every part of you, touching you on the right places and telling you the perfect words that make your heart skip a beat.

Nothing can make this day even more perfect.

“Given that its our wedding night, and you’re basically my wife now…” Jaehyun started with a shy smile. You just laughed at him for struggling to tell you what he really wanted. “Can we talk about having kids?” he finally said it.

You laughed at what he said and looked him in the eye, you trace his features. His handsome features that made you like him, but when his lips caught your hand and showered it with kisses. You remembered how his handsomeness was just a plus, a bonus, and that his attitude is what made you fall in love with him.

“Of course we can. Half of me, half of you” you said with a smile.

“I want daughters” Jaehyun excitedly said, “I will spoil them—“

“Just how you spoil your niece huh? got it” you teased him.

“But seriously. We’ll play every night, I’ll be their knight in shining armor, I’ll protect them and I’ll make this world a better place for them”

“Hmm. exactly how?”

“I have a few plans in my mind… you wont like it,” he said with a sweet voice and started kissing your neck. He was putting you in the mood again by kissing your boobs and sucking on your nipples. Of course you like the feeling and you immediately forgot what he was saying. All you did was agree in your weakest state while moaning his name. You told him you cant go again because you were still sensitive but of course Jaehyun has his own ways.

The days you spend together in this house is even more beautiful, it was not long after Jaehyun told you that he bought this place already and that this is where you will build a family with him. He made it official when he put a framed picture of you and him at the top of the fireplace. It was a good start. Just the way you like it.

“Hows everything back home?” You asked while he’s typing aggressively on his phone, he doesn’t look pleased. You stood up and try to take a look at his phone but he was quick to turn the screen off and give his attention to you.

“It’s just work, Im having a hard time but there’s nothing I cant handle” he smiled and reached out for a kiss. “Let’s make dinner?”

Over dinner you couldn’t help but ask him over and over again about the situation back home. Not to mention… you wanted to tell him that you’re happy and that you’re over the moon but you just cant help but think that everything felt so misplaced right now. You also feel like he’s hiding something from you.

“I’m afraid I have to leave you here for a few days, I’ll come back as soon as I can. I have to take care of something” Jaehyun explains while he plays with your hand and look at your ring.

“I’ll come with you. We don’t need to rush living like this… I too have loose ends to take care of. Let me go with you”

Of course you see right through him. He was hiding something.

By the time the two of you got back at the headquarters, everything went crashing down and took away your peace. You instantly wished that you hadn't left that place. Nonetheless… everything was meant to happen eventually in the first place.

Jaehyun’s father had a heart attack and it completely changed everyone's lives. In a bad way.

“Yoonoh I need you to come with me” Chanyeol said to Jaehyun, signaling him to get in the car. Jaehyun on the other hand, can’t and won’t let go of you because he knew damn well that he needs you and you’re his wife now… you should stay close to him.

“This is strictly families only Jae, don’t make this harder than it already is” Chanyeol said as he stops you from getting inside the car with Jaehyun.

This is not the perfect time to announce your marriage. And so as Jaehyun was about to say it, you stopped him and made him follow Chanyeol. “I’ll be here, just come home whenever you can” you said and let Chanyeol take him away from you.

It all happened so quickly but days went by slowly. It was dark times for everyone even though the sun shines brightly everyday and lights up every color you see. Even though everyday seems to be a gift, but in this world you’re in its just another day for chaos and revenge.

“Jeong Yoonoh’s place as the new head of the family and the new boss cannot be moved or transferred to any candidate….”

You listened to the lawyer as he recited every last will of Jaehyun’s father.

This simply means that Jaehyun can’t leave this wretched world and live a quiet life with you.

Privately, Jaehyun made a call.

A call to someone he thought he could trust with his plans in life. But it ended up giving him the biggest problem he ever faced.

“The deal was kill him after you replace me. You just made everything complicated. The deal is off. You’re useless to me now. Prepare for your funeral. I will not stop until you’re with your friends”

As soon as Jaehyun ended the call with Kun. He threw his burner phone and removed his necktie that seems to be so tight right now. He felt so caged at some point. He felt prisoned.

Only to realize that he doesn’t need to feel this way anymore because… as ugly as it sounds… he’s the boss now and he can do everything. Kill anyone. And no one will stop him now.

Of course he’s having these thoughts because he’s struggling to get to you. To be with you peacefully. His wife.

He wanted to tell the world that you are a Jeong now, looking at his wedding ring he remembers the beautiful times you spent together peacefully. And how he’s more than willing to embrace all this power and authority he has just so he could make this world a better place for you. It’s all for you.

In a matter of days, Jaehyun became the boss of bosses. The head of the Jeongs and fulfilling his birthright. You have no choice but to watch him from the sidelines and be quiet even though you’re already his wife. It was as if you were nobody even though deep inside you’re basically a Jeong too.

That thought… of being a Jeong. Officially … just gives you headaches and heartaches at the same time. It feels wrong.

Ceremonies, gatherings and a lot of business meetings. Jaehyun faced them all and made him grow even more as a leader. You’re proud of him of course, and you’re happy whenever you see him in the news for a quick interview, him cutting a ribbon or whenever you see his face at the morning papers. You’re proud of him.

And even though all these achievements are all good for his career… everyday, you feel like it’s creating a barrier between you and Jaehyun and it’s becoming thicker each day.

Ever since the funeral you stayed at the headquarters with the others. You’re back to being an assassin, guarding rich people and providing protection whenever they need it. It’s whatever. Jaehyun insisted that you stop, but you told him that this is the only thing you know how to do even with your eyes closed.

Maybe everything feels wrong because you’re not yet ready to be a wife to Jaehyun.

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m sure he misses you too” Yuta said softly and gave you a cup of tea. “He’s been receiving death threats again. I think it was three today,” you just scoffed at that information knowing that Jaehyun wouldn’t be actually threatened by that.

“People don’t know how he could be such a monster sometimes. Personally I think they should stop”

You and Yuta just laugh at what you said because its true. For a minute, you and Yuta reminisce how Jaehyun was a crazy assassin at some point. You two also remembered how he used to be a normal person even before all of this happened. He was your friend, but now he’s your boss. Even now that you’re his wife… he’s more of a boss than a husband.

“We can trade places tomorrow. I’m assigned to guarding Jaehyun’s office. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you” Yuta offered.

“I haven’t seen him up close since we got back” you murmured and looked at your wedding ring. “I wanted to take care of him, I wanted to iron his clothes, prepare him breakfast… like you know…. like a normal wife. Instead… I will guard his office, check every food he’s about to eat for possible food poison, and just… be a wife in my dreams. It frustrates me. I’m not sure if I’m ready to see him… let alone be with him the whole day… as one of his bodyguards”

But even though after listening to your sentiments, Yuta still encouraged you to trade places with him. For him, its better to see him from a far than not seeing him, its better for you to be with him the whole day while guarding his office, than not given the opportunity to do so. “Most wives wanted to guard their husbands 24/7 you know that?” Yuta tried making you laugh, he was talking about the cheating husbands and the wives that became dramatic overtime.

“You watch too much T.V these days” you said while laughing.

“Was it beautiful? The wedding?” Yuta asked sweetly only because he wanted to cheer you up.

“Beautiful. Peaceful. Jaehyun was really happy and I was just feeling things I shouldn’t. He proposed two times already, and I turned him down because I wasn’t sure how can I make him happy… but when I finally said ‘yes’… its the first time ever that I saw him so joyful, so full of life… it was that moment that I realized that I alone can make the man that I love happy, I just need to trust myself”

“Well, I’m sure you two will find a way back to that place again. Just hold on tight” he cheers you up.

The next day, you guarded Jaehyun’s office with a happy heart. You left a cup of coffee on his desk with a small note, ‘I’m outside’- wife. It was out of love, and you wanted to know that you’re more than desperate to be with him.

But Jaehyun burned the note. You saw him do it.

For someone who is clueless and does not know the truth, it looked like Jaehyun was just burning a piece of paper for fun. Followed by lighting up his cigarette before starting to read the pile of documents in front of him today. Jaehyun didn’t like the idea. After a board meeting, Jaehyun called you inside his office privately. You thought that finally… after all the waiting you did for the following weeks, you will finally get to see him up close.

“What were you thinking? What will happen if my enemies found out that you’re my wife? My wife. Who’s guarding me so freely. Who works for me”

It sounded as if you weren’t enough to be his wife… that’s why he hasn’t made the announcement yet.

Jaehyun wasn’t careful with his words and he didn’t mean it.

“All I’m saying was, I cant let my enemies see you like this”

He realized that the more he opens his mouth… the more he offends you without actually meaning it. Jaehyun wanted to tell you that, he wanted to protect you and hide you from his enemies. But that wasn’t exactly what happened. He just offended you.

He didn’t get the chance to explain himself further or say sorry because you left already. He couldn’t stop you. Afraid that he might make the situation worst.

Driven by concern and guilt, Jaehyun managed to come to the headquarters for you at the end of the day. At least try to talk to you. He wanted to apologize and come pick you up for dinner if you let him. He felt bad about what happened earlier. He was just scared. That’s all.

Just like a thief, he entered your room uninvited. See you sleep soundly. He wanted to wake you up but he thought maybe you were tired too. So instead of waking you up he just left a kiss on your forehead and made sure you’re all warm. Watching you under the warm light of your lampshade, asking himself, ‘is it really okay to deny you as his wife at this point?’ ‘is this really the only way to keep you safe?’

“At least you’re safe” he murmured.

Of course you felt his presence. And you didn’t care if you were tired or sleepy. You wanted to spend time with him. Even though he broke your heart earlier. You were quick to hug him and kiss him, and told him he’s already forgiven.

The night carried on beautifully as planned. Even though you two are basically hiding from the world. You two had hot noodles under the moon and stars, you watch your husband eat in front of you and help him wipe his face because he ate too messy. “Sorry. I was hungry” He got shy when you reached for the tissue to wipe his face and help him remove his tie so he could eat comfortably. Deep inside Jaehyun was happy. But he was shy that his ears are so red.

“Why are you shy? Its not everyday I could take care of you” you said as you put more food in his bowl and pour him another glass of wine. Of course he knew that you wanted to take care of him as your husband, he knew that someday, you wanted to help him and support his and the boss he’s meant to be… but Jaehyun didn’t expect that it would be so hard.

“I’m sorry. I really am. Its just that… I receive death threats everyday. I couldn’t let you get involved in this kind of life that I have now. I’m really sorry, I am. I know you're 100% capable of taking care of yourself and these threats are just nothing... but its different. If the news comes out that youre my wife, the world will not stop until you're dead” Jaehyun explains. His heart breaks a million times because this is not the life he promised you when he asked you to marry him.

“I’m sorry we can’t go back to our home yet… I sure miss it already” Jaehyun says softly to you. You wanted to tell him that you already forgot about it, that it was just a short dream for you and that the wedding ring that you two shared is the only proof that it actually happened… but you didn’t want to hurt him or start an argument. You’re just happy he’s here with you.

And speaking of rings… Jaehyun caught you spacing out while looking at his ring. You were actually surprised he’s wearing it. “What if someone dares to ask about your ring?” you asked as if you were suggesting that he takes it off if he really wanted to hide that he’s a married man now.

“This is sacred,” he says sternly and reached out for your hand. “for better or for worse” he reminded you. “Just give me more time…I’ll come to you. As always” he promised.

After eating, he cuddled with you and waited for you to sleep but he was tired too that he slept first the moment he was comfortable in your bed and you couldn’t wake him up or disturb him. He misses your presence, your warmth and your touch.

The next day Jaehyun met Chanyeol and talked about his enemies and possible enemies in the future. He spent weeks doing background checks, meetings, bribing, and torturing a few people just so he could find who sent the threats. But every time he kills a problem, another problem just pops out of nowhere. It felt endless Jaehyun thought.

“‘I don’t want to be like my father’ isn’t that your life motto?” Chanyeol asked Jaehyun shamelessly. “I remember when I was just starting to work for the Jeongs… your father loved his family so much, that’s why he had the idea of having his own assassins”

“Are you suggesting that I use the squad just so I could go and finally come home to Y/n?”

“No. but the fact that the idea came from you scared me. I’m saying… that you should go on a different path Jeong Yoonoh”

The next day, Chanyeol officially resigned. Of course Jaehyun couldn’t be selfish this time. His work will be doubled without Chanyeol… but his hyung has his own life too.

“I have a daughter. She’s 3 years old already and tomorrow I’ll see her for the third time. That’s how much this job has taken from me Jaehyun. That’s the last thing I’ll teach you. You have a wife now. Don’t waste your time” Chanyeol said before saying his final goodbye to his student.

After hearing what Chanyeol said, Jaehyun tried to be with you as much as he could. But he couldn’t.

He promised to be with you and you wait for him to arrive. But he never did.

He talks to you but only through phone calls.

By this time your patience is almost gone. But you can’t do anything about it. You’re married.

Although, Jaehyun managed to give you your own place as a way of saying ‘sorry’. This way it was easier for him to visit you, but in some way, it became lonelier because you were always alone. Lonelier than ever. Even though, some days and nights were beautiful because you could spend it with him, still… its been lonely for you.

“Jaehyun has been tiring everyone. Are you sure he’s still sane?” Taeyong complains while you and Yuta watch him do pull-ups.

“Even you. His own wife. He treats you like shit. No offense Y/n. But… now that he’s the boss now, I think he should grant you your freedom already” Taeyong added. “Instead… he’s sending you to assassinate someone whenever he feels like it”

“It’s my job” you try to defend yourself.

“How about his job as your husband?”

You we’re speechless.

Changes happened so fast ever since Chanyeol left. The new apartment, new assassins, new people to kill, new bosses, new people to kill, new people to protect. Taeyong was right. Is Jaehyun still thinking straight?

On the same day, Jaehyun came home and you found him sleeping on the bed with his shoes still on and a cup of untouched coffee on the bedside table. You figured he must have tried battling against sleepiness but couldn’t win because of tiredness. He must be really tired like everyone else, you thought. Even though Jaehyun’s choices in life right now make everyone's lives miserable, you’re sure that Jaehyun must be suffering and struggling alone too.

“Hey…” he greeted you with a tired voice when he felt your presence, “what time did you arrive? I’m sorry. I tried coming home as fast as I could. I was in Bangkok for days— I missed you” he got up even though its obvious that all he wanted to do is rest. People don’t see this side of Jaehyun. And you’re the only one who could see him weak like this. It pains you.

“I missed you too?” you said sweetly, he initiated the kiss, you kissed him back, showing him that you still long for him, you still want him every second of the day. But for someone who’s tired to the bone, he sure does have the energy to turn you on and imply that he wanted to have sex tonight. “If you’re tired, we could just lay down and talk until the sun rises” he suggests, he’s aware that he’s been tiring everyone lately too, including you. The suggestion stands, but Jaehyun couldn't stop himself from devouring your neck and kissing you just how you want it.

“Don’t stop my love” you made sure he heard you right. You returned his hungry kisses and quickly unbuttoned his dress shirt. You remember the last time you had sex, it was your wedding night, and the thought of it just makes you want to melt into Jaehyun’s body, grinding on his hardening cock and using each other for your own pleasure. You hold on to him, scratching his back and leaving a few bruises on his skin because you were so so so desperate to keep him close to you.

“I’m sorry. I’m here now” he managed to whisper. In one swift he put you in all fours, kneading your boobs from behind and pinching your nipples while he enjoys touching your body and making you feel good with his hands alone. Pulling you against his chest, you feel his lips on the shells of your ear, hearing every breath he takes. It sounded sexy, and the sound alone just makes you wet. “Can I be rough tonight?” Jaehyun asks while kissing your body back, hand beside your waist, keeping you still for all the kisses that he’s about to give your body. All you can do is nod and kiss him back with the same hunger.

From behind, he licked your leaking cunt, you were so wet at the moment only because it has been so long ever since he touched you. Jaehyun can see and feel how you shiver at every touch, every lick he does to you. And he likes what he’s seeing. He decided to be more playful and run a finger slowly to your cunt. Your hole is ready to be fucked but Jaehyun wanted to make you wet even more. Without a warning, he licked your slit followed by his fingers, making small circle on your sensitive bud which makes your knees weak, making you land on the mattress and let out beautiful moan. Jaehyun was quick to pull your waist back up and kiss your back, the tip of his cock sliding up and down on your cunt, which makes you grip the sheets and hold on to whatever you can. You reach behind for his hand, asking him to hold hands with you which he complies before pushing in. You feel his lips on your lips as he slowly thrust in and out but not for long. It was just his way of saying, ‘im going to be rough, if it hurts make me stop’.

You feel his hand on your waist while he thrust so hard and you hear slapping. Your face is perfectly buried on the mattress as you take every pleasure your husband gives you. You hear him moan and his moans were perfect. It was obvious that you make him feel good and that alone just makes you want more.

His lips and his thrust were on different rhythms. His thrusts were nothing but hard, to the extent that you let out a small scream here and there, feeling his skin burn yours. Oh youre sure you’ll have bruises when you wake up tomorrow, you’re not even sure if you could walk properly. While his lips bring you comfort, warm like his being. You’re sure that his kisses left marks on your back too. You just smile at every thought running through your head. And Jaehyun caught you.

“So you seemed to be enjoying. I’m glad” He suddenly stopped thrusting and proceeded to kiss your lips, flipping you once again facing him this time. He caresses your legs for a few seconds, touching your body while he whispers dirty things beside your ear that of course… makes you wet and want for more. When his fingers slide on your wet slit, Jaehyun was amazed at how he made you wet this time. “Can I slap your cunt?” he asks, you nod.

He slapped your cunt in a way you loved every sting of it. Making your legs closed but your husband was quick to compensate for every sting from a hard slap with a soft touch, a soft kiss, a finger inside or a spit followed by his tongue. And when he was satisfied, he thrusted his hard cock once again and fuck you slowly this time. Looking you in the eye and melting you, making you shy. He just smiles back at you while continuing to make you crazy. When he finally reaches his high, he removes his cock from your hole and came on on top of you. Watching his thick cum paint your pussy and stomach. It was messy but no one cared.

“I wasn’t sure if you were safe…” he was talking about your pill. “That made me realize, what kind of husband am I… I dont even know if I could cum inside my wife” he reaches for the tissue from the bedside table and wiped every cum on your skin. Kissing lower stomach all the way up until he reaches your lips and stays on top of you. Putting both of your arms on top of your head, and making you swing your arms around his neck. He wanted you to keep him close.

“Thank you for pulling out,” is all you managed to say.

“Can you still go for another round? Or a couple more?” He asks while kissing your neck.

“Yeah just give me a few minutes,” you paused and took this time to express what your’e feeling, “I missed you”

“I miss you too. You’ve been nothing but patient with me and Im grateful” he kissed your hand which had your wedding ring on it. “everything will be worth it I promise” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Kiss me” You commanded he complies. In a matter of seconds he’s inside you again. You clenched around him kept him close to your body held him tight and kissed him deeply. “Come home more often” you managed to moan, and all he could do is nod and return the favor of what youre doing by rolling his hips slowly and thrusting deeper. Kissing you more and keeping you on your toes.

On the next day, it was a cold morning. The room was painted with blue, and the sun was just about to rise. Jaehyun had the privilege of waking you up early in the morning even though he completely worn you out last night. He just wanted to make sure he doesnt waste his time. “Good morning” he says, kissing you softly, waking you up in the most softest way. When you finally opened your eyes, your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jaehyun’s face. His dimples flashing and a handsome smile.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, you nod and pulled him in for a hug, making sure youre not dreaming. “I’m thankful for you” he says, making you smile and putting butterflies in your stomach, first thing in the morning.

As you two head on with your day, this is the first time you help him prepare for work as his wife. You picked his clothes, you watch him get dressed, you fix his tie, its perfect. On the other hand, Jaehyun too was happy because he could spend this morning with you, he hugged you from behind while you were drying your hair. And told you that he will try to come home everyday from now on followed by aplogies. Sincere apologies that were whispered beside your ear which sent shivers down your spine.

“Just give me more time. I love you”

You were not like other couples, like normal couples and you think its time to face that as a married couple.

Of course the sex suddenly fixed everything.

He comes home regularly.

Spend mornings sweetly.

Spend longer nights together that include moaning his name while his tongue is making you feel good.

The sex became rougher and its okay because you both love it.

But of course it didn’t last for long.

Days become stressful for Jaehyun because of Kun. He’s now working hand in hand with Johnny, planning to overthrow Jaehyun with being the king of the city, for being the powerful man that he is now. But Jaehyun is smarter than all of them.

As an assassin he is used to research. Researching and studying everything about who he needs to kill, and how.

What is their most prized possession?

Who is the most important person in their life?

If Jaehyun were to ask these questions, you are the answer.

Sometimes, he thanks his father for making him an assassin first rather than the heir of this huge company. He'd grow us useless and stupid if it weren't for Chanyeol and the 127 squad. Maybe that’s the reason why his father made him an assassin in the first place. To gain important experience.

Jaehyun played by the book but played dirty too. He made sure his enemies will remember him. For Johnny, Jaehyun made sure that his daughter is safe… but the catch is, Johnny has no clue where Jaehyun kept her hidden. Yes. He kidnapped her. Which made Johnny beg on his knees one afternoon at Jaehyun’s office. Everyone witnessed it, but they have no clue why.

“Kun. Tell me where he keeps his airplanes” Jaehyun demanded as Johnny begged on his knees.

Soon Johnny told Jaehyun where Kun kept his airplanes. It is where he keeps his money and his gold. Knowing Kun, he’s obsessed with his airplanes, and his riches.

And Jaehyun burned them all down with his own lighter.

You have no idea what Jaehyun has done for the past week, you can only see that he’s exhausted but he’s happy.

While you were sleeping, you felt Jaehyun’s hand creep under your sleepwear, caressing your exposed stomach and trying to wake you up with his kisses. He smelled like alcohol, you bet he’s been drinking with his trusted new business partners. Drunken men who cheat with their wives overseas, rich people who make everything and anything happen.

You don’t ask for too much. All you want to do is for him to come home to you and spend time with you as much as he can. Sober.

“I know what you’re thinking.. you probably smelled it already, but I’m not drunk. Was… but not anymore— can we go for a few rounds?” he asked shamelessly. Obviously he’s horny. But you didn’t like how he was asking you to have sex with him, after not coming home for a week. You felt like… you’re someone whom he just uses for adult stress release.

But maybe he was tired and that he really missed you and you’re just quick with your ugly judgment. You dont know anymore.

“Where do you sleep whenever you don’t come home?” It was just a question, a question out of concern, a conversation starter, but Jaehyun unfortunately got offended.

“I am many things. But I will never cheat on you” he said. Sternly. He got up from his comfort next to you and proceeded to remove his tie. You checked the time and it’s almost time to start your day. But for Jaehyun, he was just about to end his.

“I didn’t mean it that way Jae—“

“Then enlighten me” he asks coldly.

You watch him remove his watch, roll his sleeves and face you, while he waits for your answer.

“I feel like… you just come home to me for sex… but I wanted to understand you more. So I avoided the subject, that’s why asked you instead ‘where do you sleep—“

“In a hotel. Alone. Are you happy now?” he answered, crossing his shoulders in front of you as if he was still waiting for you to talk, “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way. But I guess I’m just one horny motherfucker”

He let’s out a heavy sigh, realizing that his words aren’t right and you don’t deserve to be treated this way. His pride stops him from telling you he’s sorry, even though he wanted to. But Jaehyun turned his back on you and proceeds to take a shower. Preparing for yet another busy day in the office.

What have you done? You told to yourself.

Before Jaehyun leaves you tried to invite him for coffee. But he just kissed you goodbye, answered an urgent call and left immediately.

Jaehyun did not come home for days, he didn’t even said goodbye to you when he left for Macao. At this point, you’re not sure how else or what kind of apology you should do, all you could do is wait for his return.

Without Chanyeol, Jaehyun doesn’t have someone whom he trusts the most when it comes to his armies. Armies meaning… Jaehyun’s assassin. Everyone thought that Jaehyun would pick Taeyong because he is his best friend, but no. Jaehyun hired someone new. Someone who is trustworthy, who isn’t biased, and who will follow and protect Jaehyun with his life. He is Jaehyun’s cousin, Doyoung.

Knowing that he isn’t biased, Doyoung gave the 127 squad equal field assignments while Jaehyun was away. The mission was fine, it wasn’t bloody at all, and it wasn't hard for you, Taeyong and Yuta… but when Doyoung said that Mark is not capable enough to protect Jaehyun and that he needed to finish a field assignment on his own to prove it, everyone protested.

"Mark has been protecting Jaehyun ever since he learned how to hack shit!" you shouted. "Mark can protect everyone through his screens-- are you dumb?"

But even though everyone voiced out their frustrations, Doyoung is still unstoppable.

“I’ve been calling Jaehyun but he isn’t answering” you tried to comfort Mark. He’s been shaking ever since the announcement.

“We will shadow you and assist you secretly,” Taeyong says as he tries to lessen Mark’s nervousness.

“I swear if Mark dies, I’m killing Jaehyun” Yuta jokes, but he was frustrated as well.

“Everyone calm down I’m sure Jaehyun is not aware… no calls have been reaching him” you told everyone but deep inside you wern't sure.

The plan to shadow Mark secretly and assist him went in shambles when Doyoung announced that you, Yuta and Taeyong are supposed to pick up Jaehyun privately from Macao and bring him home safe.

Yes you want to see Jaehyun. Of course you wanted to protect your husband… but Mark needs you and it breaks your heart that you’re so powerless.

When you and the others picked up Jaehyun successfully, no one was talking in the helicopter but everyone is nervous. There was a time that Mark was still reacheable and that he sends signals that he's okay but not for long. And when you guys are back to the headquarters, Mark still hasn't come back.

Until Doyoung officially announced that he failed.

“He got shot and his body went straight to the icy river…” he informed everyone with heavy heart, regret and kept apologizing.

Yuta was quick to start a fight and punched Doyoung too many times, he just let him. Thinking he deserved it. You hear Taeyong punch the wall out of anger, crying and just plainly out of words.

You on the other hand, went out of the room and cried in one space, pulling yourself together, closing your eyes and hoping that this is all a dream. Everyone saw it coming. But everyone did not do anything to save him from the situation. There’s a part of you that blames Jaehyun, but of course, you avoid that thought.

For years of being together, Mark was the source of happiness of the squad. His never ending jokes, his loud voice, his loud laughs over your earpiece. You remember it all and it will never be the same again. He’s the best hacker that you know, and you’re just sad to the core that not everyone appreciates that.

It was dark times, but everything went black out when the days continued and Mark was not with you anymore.

You and Jaehyun constantly fight everyday, arguing, shouting and hurting each other through words you never told to each other before. Of course Jaehyun blames himself for Mark’s death too. It was heavy for him too. You don’t see it, but Jaehyun was looking for comfort too, someone that will tell him completely that its not his fault. But nobody showed up for him.

He did’t showed up during Mark’s funeral. And you got mad at him.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t know!” Jaehyun shouted for the nth time.

It was loud and clear of course, but he didn’t even let everyone who cared mourned for Mark and made everyone work again like nothing happened.

“It’s just how everything goes around here Y/n!!! We live in a deadly world!!!”

“A deadly world that you and your father built Jeong Yoonoh. If you don’t care about the goodness in this world anymore, I don’t want to be a part of it” you said crying.

Your words pierced through Jaehyun’s heart especially you called him ‘Yoonoh’, he was scared to the core that you might leave him this time, and this fight cannot be fixed anymore. Not to mention your freedom is getting near. You have every right and power to leave.

“So where are you going to build a life now?” You were talking to Yuta and Taeyong about their plans when they get away from this prison. It makes you happy, knowing that they can be free and live the life they want.

“Japan. To my family, I’m taking Taeyong with me. He plans on establishing a bakery there” Yuta answered. “How about you?”

You scoffed, “what about me? Did you guys forget that I’m a Jeong now? I cant leave him”

“We all know you love him. But he’s drowning of power now and — I cant even recognize him anymore” Yuta says.

“He’s not the Jaehyun that we grew up with, he’s not the Jaehyun that you loved anymore. Faced that truth” Taeyong said sternly. “You’ve earned your freedom. Think about it. Think long and hard”

When the day finally arrived that Taeyong and Yuta are free from the Jeongs it was a bittersweet goodbye. You’re happy for them, but you were sad for yourself. You remember the first day that you guys met and the first mission, everything was all worth it you thought.

“Don’t act like you’re still not free Y/n. You too, you’re free now. Don’t stay here” Taeyong explains for the last time.

Looking back a few years from now, you and Jaehyun were both excited for your own freedom and were of course, looking forward to finally leaveing everything behind. You remember how fiercely you loved each other during those times, and you remember how Jaehyun literally looked like a ball of sunshine. Who lights up your day and make everything better in a matter of seconds.

Now… everything about Jaehyun is dark. His aura, his eyes, the way he talks… everything. He really looked like a Jeong now. High, mighty and scary.

“So did they left?” Jaehyun asks. He was drinking alone at the kitchen counter, he looked wasted. You noticed he has a new tattoo on his hand, you didn’t bother asking the story behind it. You just nod at his question and avoid him for the rest of the night.

Ever since Mark’s death, you and Jaehyun stopped sleeping on the same bed, and stopped talking to each other dearly, but you sure do want to stay. But on times like this, especially when you’re lonely, you don’t know why you keep on staying with him. In this place. Truth be told you would rather sleep on the headquarters than this cold and dark place. It’s not that you hated seeing him, his presence still make your heart skip a beat, happy because he’s alive and well. And well… physically you could be together. You’re thankful regardless.

Jaehyun hears your cry every night, it breaks his heart too. Knowing that he’s not enough to make you happy anymore even though he’s doing everything he can to make this life bearable for you. But no matter how hard he tries… he’s not enough.

This is his worst nightmare. Watching your marriage fall apart because he can’t give you the life he promised.

Even though you wanted to break free, you stayed and work for Jaehyun. You kill for him, train new assassins for him, but you were never given the chance to become a proper wife anymore.

It was a quiet afternoon when you just got back from a mission that Doyoung rushed you to finish. You don’t know why he was in a hurry but you were so pissed that you showed up in his office with blood in your hands and face.

“What the fuck do you want?” You shouted. You assumed that it was Doyoung who’s sitting behind that chair but no… it was Jaehyun. And Doyoung was the one sitting beside the table.

You never thought that this day would come.

The day when you received a mission from Jaehyun. Not from Doyoung. From Jaehyun directly.

It hurt you so much seeing him all worked up and stressed, he can’t even look you in the eye as he explains what needs to be done. But after he’s done explaining the mission, he put out his handkerchief and wipes the blood off your face. “Can you give us the room?” Jaehyun politely asked to Doyoung which he followed of course.

“I know this is hard for you, because it’s hard for me too” he let out a heavy sigh before continuing… you thought that this time he’s going to say he misses you or say something that will brighten up the mood. But he didn’t.

“I need you to not fail this mission” he added.

And that made you mad. You wanted to shout at him, you wanted to punch him but you knew that staying silent and avoiding him at all costs will hurt him even more.

It was quiet. Jaehyun was waiting for you to break the silence.

“Can I have the name?” You asked without looking at him.

“It’s Kun” he says, and after collecting all the paper work that you needed from the desk you bravely left your wedding ring.

You didn’t dare asked how the fuck is Kun still alive. You have so many questions but you didn’t dare asked him because that small room is suffocating you. Not to mention your little skit about the ring. He didn’t even bother coming after you when you left the room. That’s just means you mean nothing to him.

By the time you started the mission, you thought that he will be hard to find but no. He contacted you directly and gave you an invitation for dinner in the skies. Of course you accepted it, even though you had direct orders from Jaehyun that you are not allowed to have a conversation with him.

“Do you love flying this much?” You asked him. He just smiled.

“This way, there’s no other assassins that could kill me, no people listening, just pure privacy. Just you and me”

You watch him pour another glass of champagne and watch him take a sip, you noticed he was shaking.

“I don’t have anything up in my sleeves too because I’m only here to tell you the truth” there was a slight pause, you wait for him to have the courage but truth be told, you’re not ready to hear what he’s about to say.

“While you were on coma, back then, Jaehyun found me after killing my double. I was afraid to die in his hands especially when I wasn’t the one who poisoned you — it wasn’t me, I promise. It was Jaehyun’s father. And I know that because… well we Phantoms are always 5 times ahead” he joke, you agreed.

“But when I told Jaehyun that truth… he made a deal with me. I kill his father and the Jeongs will not come after me anymore, and I become the boss. I fucked up. I admit. Got excited and killed his father first. Not knowing that Mr. Jeong is as smart as Jaehyun. His final will and testament just made Jaehyun untouchable and impossible to replace. Time passed and the man you love changed and now drowning in power—“

“You don’t need to tell my life’s story. I’m well aware—“ you tried to cut him off but he continued.

“ And here you are. He even sent his wife to clean up his mess. Are you sure you’re married to the right person?”

Kun noticed you don’t have your wedding ring. He thought maybe you left him “Good choice” he added without even asking you.

After knowing the truth while watching the sun go down high above the skies, Kun helped you stage his death and you agreed to let him go because he proved to you that he’s innocent.

When you get back, Jaehyun was happy that you didn’t fuck up… for a short time…but soon found out that Kun’s death was just staged. And so Jaehyun killed him with his own hands. He turned a blind eye about you being a traitor because he knew that you’re already fed up of what’s happening to your lives now.

But on top of it all, he already knew that one of these days, you will decide to leave him.

You on the other hand has succumbed into the darkness of your room and stayed there for days without talking to anyone, and without eating anything. All you want to do is get away from this place and live your life alone. Even if the thought of leaving Jaehyun hurts you so much already.

One night, Jaehyun tried to make everything right by bravely visiting you into your room, he promised to himself that he will do everything tonight just to make everything right. If he gets lucky he will hand you your wedding ring again.

He didn’t knock and just welcomed himself into your room. He found you staring at your window while you’re comfortably laying in your bed. He didn’t want to disturb your peace but he has to do this and try to win you back.

“I’m sorry” he whispers sweetly, and lay on the bed with you. He wrapped his arms around you but it felt like he’s suffocating you instead of comforting you. Suddenly Jaehyun doesn’t feel like home anymore.

“What kind of person kills his own father?” You started.

Shocked that you already know the truth, Jaehyun couldn’t handle what’s happening in front of him now.

“I did it so we could live peacefully—“

“Look at us now Jaehyun. You did this to us. You’re drowning of power—“

“That’s not true” Jaehyun defends.

“Then what is. I don’t even know you anymore, I’m hurt Jaehyun. I’m hurt that we’re fighting right now, I’m hurt that were not together anymore but I felt safe when I turned my back on you. I don’t want to be a Jeong”

“So this it? You’re really leaving me?”

“I believe that I’m not the right person for you”

There was silence. Suffocating silence for both you and Jaehyun. You continue to cry and forget that he’s in the room with you, while Jaehyun just sat there on the edge of your bed. The whole conversation did not include any screaming, maybe you two got tired of screaming already.

Jaehyun has a lot to say. But this is the furthest he can go with you.

This is the end.

Thank you so much for reading this work of mine! If you love what you read, please leave something in my inbox and tell me how you feel! CLICK THIS LINK. I hope we can practice, give and take.

Stay tuned for the next part! -B.

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uglypastels · 3 months

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The Boy is Mine (Z's edition) // e.m.

a/n—guess who's baaaaack. Yeah, I didn't expect it either, but a long and lonely day and some scrolling through this hell site made me stumble upon a few posts that actually made me excited to write again, so here I am.

This fic is a part of @carolmunson's blurb challenge. I had so much fun writing this, and thank you so much, Carol, for sparking that inspiration back in me.

word count: 2.4k

warning: a LOT of fluff. Eddie and reader being menaces towards each other. teasing. playfighting. slight spanking. innuendos and suggestive talk. Swearing. possibly rusty writing as this i haven't written anything in months (i think that's it??)

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain -Midnight Rain, Taylor Swift

The downpour came completely out of nowhere as if someone up in the heavens was throwing buckets and buckets of ice-cold water at the same pace. The entire morning had been a perfect summer’s day, bright and sunny, warming up the ground underneath you, toasting all rooms and cars. It’s what made you want to go out in the first place. You had enough of sitting on the couch every weekend and practically dragged Eddie out of the house by the sleeve of his baggy sweatshirt.

Now he was the one hauling you back inside, both of you looking like a pair of drenched cats.

‘I swear to God, if you don’t get your ass over here right this second!’ He shouted through the rain, his hair sticking to his face, water dripping down onto the floorboards of the trailer. He just ran inside, holding an arm out to keep the door open.

‘I’m coming.’ you said, with none of the urgency that Eddie held in his tone. The rain, while cold, felt nice and refreshing against your face. Taking a deep breath in, you let the summer night air fill your lungs, almost forgetting about your impatient boyfriend who was standing waiting for you on the threshold. He called out your name, but you weren’t listening.

‘I’m serious, sweetheart,’ Eddie leaned against the doorframe, growing tired as he watched you twirl around in the rain. ‘If you don’t stop and come inside right this second, we’re gonna have a problem.’

‘I really doubt it,’ you shouted back, making another turn on your heels as the rain caught your cheeks. You couldn’t quite explain what made you act like this, but it was a freeing feeling to just stand outside and let Mother Nature weep her sweet, sweet tears.

‘Oh yeah, and why’s that?’ Eddie challenged, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

‘Because you’re too much of a pussy to come outside and get wet again.’ It was a known fact that Eddie hated rain or water in any form, really, touching him. If there was a way for a person to take dry showers, he would be the first in line to try them. There was something truly unexplainable about him but truly endearing, so who could blame you if you poked fun at the way he groaned when he couldn’t dry himself off properly after a swim or moaned about his hair being a mess?

Even from the distance of the driveway and the gloomy twilight as the sun set, you could see the blank stare he was sending your way; that are you shitting me right now glare only he could provide so casually and yet charmingly.

You poked your tongue out teasingly at him as you twirled around once more, arms spread wide open to receive another bucket load of rain on top of you.

‘C’mon, you’re gonna get sick!’ your boyfriend made another attempt at getting you inside, but if you were one thing, it was stubborn. All spun out, you leaned against the hood of his van. Perhaps a bit too provocative, with your chest forward, as you took deep breaths. You weren’t sure how soaked through your shirt was yet and if the water made the material see-through, although, seeming from Eddie’s reaction, it just might have been. You had closed your eyes but dared to shoot a glance up at him briefly and just about caught him cursing to himself.

You had spent most of the day driving around, stopping here and there to grab something to eat, but it had been right as you decided to stroll past Lover’s Lake that the clouds formed above your heads, and the rain started to fall. Eddie, ever the romantic, ran back to the van like a startled alley cat, quickly disappearing into his comfortably, dry enclosure, and he had run just as quickly back into the trailer once you got there. Overall, besides his hair, he suffered minor damage. His clothes were already nearly fully dry again, but the rain had only gotten worse since then, and there was no way he would—

Your boyfriend cursed again, shaking his head in amusement, as he pulled his sweater over his head and threw it behind him to the ground. You knew as soon as he made that one step past the threshold. You were fucked.

‘Don’t you dare,’ he said the second he saw you hesitantly step back. Ironically, his threat spurred you on to keep moving, and before you knew it, the two of you were making laps around the car through the muddy ground.

‘C’mhere you,’ Eddie said, and despite your best efforts, you both knew it was inevitable that he would eventually catch up to you. You shrieked out as your feet suddenly left the ground, and you were hoisted up over his shoulder.

‘Eddie!’ you hit him on the back, getting bumped up and down as he walked proudly to the trailer door. ‘Put me down!’

‘Just so you can run away again? No way, princess,’ he chuckled, adjusting his grip on you, making you bounce around even more. His hand rested on the back of your bare thigh, the shorts you were wearing that day doing a not-so-tremendous job of covering you up. God, the walk up to the trailer had never felt that long.

‘Edmund Lorenzo Munson,’ you stated, ‘put me down– ahh!’ you squealed as you felt the sharp snap of his hand against your ass. ‘You did not just do that!’

‘You bet I did,’ and to prove his point, he did again, this time a little harder. ‘I told you it would only mean trouble for you if you stayed out there.’

‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ you rolled your eyes just in time before he put you back on the ground. The trailer was warm from a long, sunny day, and the usual ambience of the clock above the TV was overruled by the harsh tap-tap-tapping of the rain on the roof.

‘Oh, I’m dramatic,’ Eddie scoffed, ‘says Miss Let-me-run-around-in-the-rain-until-I-catch-pneumonia.’

‘Ok, first of all,' you held up a finger. ‘That’s not even true. I was out there for about five minutes, so don’t be like that. Second,’ you pointed up a second digit. 'That was dramatic. And third…’ You had finally let yourself look down at his naked, rain-soaked chest. ‘Actually, never mind.’

‘No, no, finish your thought, princess.’ His arms twisted around your waist, swaying the two of you from side to side. His lips were stretched in a wicked grin. Perhaps you were making him forget the state he was in and that he was, in fact, supposed to be mad at you, at least a little bit.

‘You know what, I suddenly forgot what I wanted to say.’ You shrugged and slipped out of his hold, reaching the couch. Once sat, you had the perfect view of your boyfriend, who stood towering over you in nothing but his ripped jeans, arms now crossed as he shook his head in disbelief. His rain-kissed skin was shimmering in the room's low light, and his hair was once again drenched, with curls still dripping water onto his shoulders.

‘Why am I not surprised by that,’ Eddie’s smile persisted as he looked you up and down, a line of worry crossing his brows. ‘I’ll get you some dry clothes.’ And with that, he turned around but did not even take three steps before a small pillow hit the small of his back. But Eddie, accustomed to your hijinks as well as you were to his, barely flinched and affectionately put up his middle finger.

‘Love you too!’ you shouted after him, already peeling off your shirt. Now that you were inside, the room's warmth started tingling your body, and the dampness of your clothes felt suffocating. Not that you would ever admit to the goosebumps rising on your arms—no, not to Eddie, at least.

A few seconds later, Eddie returned wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants and holding a stack of fresh clothes for you. He threw them at you one by one, but with some effort, you caught everything despite his terrible aim. You then considered throwing your wet clothes back at him, but the poor boy had suffered enough, so you quickly got dressed. In the meantime, Eddie headed over to the kitchen, looking for something in the cupboards.

‘I was going to suggest making something to drink to warm us up,’ he answered before you even got the opportunity to ask, ‘but it seems I run out of, like, nice cups.’ Nice, in this case, really just meaning “clean”. He looked around some cupboards while you walked up to him, wrapping yourself around him and looking over his arm at the pile of dishes.

‘There, I used that one this morning.’ You pointed at a mug that had once been clearly hand-painted by a kindergarten Eddie. The wonky blots of colour almost matched the inside, which was stained with coffee remnants from that morning.

Eddie picked it up, hesitating, ‘you sure?’

‘Yesh, of course, just rinse it off, you dork.’

While Eddie got busy making what you hoped would be hot chocolate, you busied yourself by looking through the other cupboards for something to eat. ‘Do you have anything sweet in here?’ You were still looking around the shelves when Eddie pulled your chin in his direction and pecked a kiss onto your lips.

‘I meant more like cookies or something, but thank you.’

‘Yeah, I think we got a pack of those iced biscuits around here somewhere.’ Indeed, on top of the highest shelf, which he knew you wouldn’t be able to reach, there was an unopened pack of sugar-vanilla-icing-coated cookies. By the time Eddie handed you your mug of hot chocolate, you had already eaten two, dipping your third one in the drink. Knowing Eddie, he would have already poured in some colder milk for you, leaving you with no need to be hesitant on your first sip. The beverage warmed you up from the inside, and you couldn’t help but let out a satisfied sigh of relief.

‘What?’ you looked up at Eddie, feeling his gaze on you, but as soon as you addressed him, his eyes focused on his own drink.

‘Nothing.’ He leaned casually against the counter.

‘No, no, you were clearly thinking something so just spill it out.’

He made you wait by taking one long sip of his hot chocolate (extra cinnamon). He leaned forward to grab a cookie, but you quickly pulled them away, knowing he was trying to prolong your wait for an answer.

‘Fine,’ he smiled, ‘I was just thinking that you’re so fucking cute when you’re stubborn.’

‘Try again, loverboy,’ you replied, unimpressed.

‘It’s true!’

‘It’s not, and we both know it,’ you glared at him with narrowed eyes. ‘So just tell me.’

‘It was, actually,’ he stole the cookies back from you, taking one. His eyes never left yours as he scraped the sugary vanilla icing off the top with his teeth. You both tried keeping a serious face, but that was simply never an option for the two of you. It was just the question of who was first to break.

You kept looking at him with your unimpressed and unconvinced look, trying hard to push back the smile, much like he was most likely.

‘Ok fine,’ he bit into the biscuit. ‘I was just thinking, I can’t believe that you even make your biscuits wet. Like, that is actually horrid.’

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ You laughed, exasperated, finally cracking down on your serious look. ‘Eddie? Seriously?’

‘Yes! I mean, look at it,’ He pointed at the cookie you just pulled out of your drink. Half of it was darker as it soaked up the liquid, the icing slightly melting off, too. ‘It’s all soggy and gross, and you like that?’

‘You need to get yourself checked out, Munchie.’ You bit into the “soggy and gross” biscuit, enjoying the chocolatey infusion of the baked good.

‘Very funny.’ He slurped his hot chocolate until he drained the last sips out of the mug and placed it down on the counter, nearly pushing off a stack of plates. You weren’t far behind him, finishing your own drink and placing the dish back as well. The two of you were shuffling around the small kitchen space, manoeuvring past each other until you wrapped your arms around him, engulfing him in a tight embrace. Eddie kissed the top of your head as you murmured a sweet “thank you”.

‘For what?’ He asked.

‘For everything.’ You said against his chest. ‘Taking me out today, the hot chocolate, making sure I don’t die from pneumonia.’

‘Well, it’s still early.’ He corrected your last point, and you let your teeth grace over his chest, nipping him lightly.

‘Ow!’ he laughed through his shock and pain. ‘Did you just bite me?’

‘No.’ You said, mouth right against the fabric of his shirt.

‘No,’ Eddie mimicked your mumbling, pressing his face against your hair. ‘God, you’re so annoying.’

‘Am not!’ you gasped. ‘You are.’

‘I am?’ He raised his brow, and stupidly, you agreed.

‘Yes.’

‘Ok, fine.’ and so, you were up in the air again. ‘I’ll show you just how annoying I can be.’ With you over his shoulder once more, he brought you into his bedroom, dropping you into free fall down onto the mattress. You bounced as the springs creaked underneath.

The room was a mess, and you had to push an abundance of random objects off the bed as you made your way to the top of it. Shirts, underwear, folders, guitar picks, pencils and books all fell to the ground. Eddie got onto the mattress, too, falling to his knees upon it and slowly making his way to you. You were all too aware of his tactics, knowing he was trying to take the slow approach to tease you. So, instead, you tried to make yourself a bit more comfortable, propping up the pillows for a better headrest. Picking one up, you noticed the little brown notebook lying there.

‘Dear Diary, God, Harrington is so hot. I swear I just want to take his big fat—’ You started making up things as you flipped the pages, but before you could read into any of the actual lyrics or campaign ideas that Eddie had jotted down, he ripped the notebook out of your hands and threw it across the room, falling somewhere onto his desk into a pile of cassettes.

‘I hate you.’ He said with a smile, his hair now tickling your cheeks as it dangled down in semi-wet strands.

‘Hate you more.’ You pulled him in by the collar, kissing him passionately, continuing your chaotic yet perfect day until the late hours of the night.

the end.

my own analysis on the challenge - i feel like "my Eddie" is different each time I write him, even when writing for no particular au, but I usually I do try to make him a little bit goofy and awkward, always in on the joke and hyper and just.. .cute, ya know haha. I also always love to add in random ideas about him, so that's how we get hydrophobic!eds here, but he's also totally got a major sweet tooth, and yes, his middle name is Lorenzo. i don't make the rules.

I also feel like setting the setting as a "romantic" night will really show what people consider romantic in terms of personal preference, which should be super interesting to read.

thank you so much for reading!

if you want to check out more of my writing, feel free to do so here

and all the other stories from this challenge are somewhere around here

and if you enjoyed this fic, please remember that the best way to support writers is to reblog and comment <3 and my inbox is also always open if you feel like talking more :))

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fresamilkwrites · 1 year

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COLLIDE ━ Javier Peña [Narcos, 2015]

summary. Javier's profession has been getting in the way of your relationship for far too long, and you two seem to have become passing ships. What's the worst that could happen if you went out drinking with some friends in an attempt to forget about your misfortunes? original request. Ok so, Javi Peña x fem. You've been together a while, during the height of the Escobar case he's always at the office and you're just passing ships. You're feeling a bit down and go to a club with friends. You harmlessly flirt with a stranger all night only to discover you're in a narco hotspot and Javi&Steve are about to raid it. author's note. This is my first requested fic and I'm so excited to finally be posting it! I also chose happiness and ended up starting a narcos rewatch while working on this... someone save me from this addiction (please don't).

[ ❥ ] pairing. javier peña x fem! reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 2.7k

[ ❥ ] genre. angst

[ ❥ ] warnings. No actual use of "Y/N". Angst. Explicit language. Mentions of alcohol and intoxication. Mentions of guns and gun violence. Mild physical abuse if you squint (not ill intentioned, just an accident).

Check on Javi.

You read the sticky note on the fridge, licking a spoon clean of peanut butter after making yourself breakfast. The eternal reminder staring right back at you like it had done for so long now.

You actually hadn’t for a few days, checked on him that is. It was getting hard to.

Javier’s job was never an easy concept to get around. DEA agent appointed to the highest profile case they ever had on their hands… they had it tough and you were perfectly aware. You basically signed up for this, but after weeks that turned into months of his endless work days, it felt like there was close to no room left for you in his life outside of when he’d randomly show up at your door looking for some stress relief, desperately kissing you without a hello and later leaving almost right after he was done.

And you tried to be supportive, as much as you had it in you to be. It started with dropping off lunch for him every morning at work, that slowly turned into a big coffee jug just a few times a week and now it was only the occasional call. A call you almost dreaded to make, specially since everything you did in an attempt to keep up with him was rarely received the way you wished it to.

It wasn’t that Javier was trying to be rude or hurt your feelings, you knew that. But he was so stressed… he never managed to pick up the first time you called, and whenever you’d go by his office it was hard to not feel unwelcome when entering his hectic environment, even if he didn’t let you go without a swift and rushed kiss on the lips. A kiss that to you felt like a “thanks, doll. Now go away please, I have things to do.”

A faint, melancholic smile appeared on your lips as you moved through your apartment and fell onto your couch, looking back at how things were before the case got so serious. The summer Javier and you met was like a fever dream… day trips to the beach, constantly waking up together, trying his horrendously strong coffee for the first time, any time he playfully laid his full bodyweight on you, his shooting lessons, going out drinking and dancing even though he has two left feet.

Then you realized, it’d been forever since you had gone out dancing. Something had to be done about it… you were so caught up with feeling abandoned that the fact there were still enjoyable things to do out there and other people to do them with, went completely unnoticed within the valley of your thoughts. You decided to take some action, and after basically jumping to the phone and dialing every single one of your girlfriends’ numbers, all of you collectively agreed to attend a new cumbia night club downtown that none of you had gone to yet.

By the time the night came, you were ready for your plans. Your hair down, flowing in waves and a tight, beautiful, sequined, one sleeve mini dress perfectly wrapping your figure. You finished the look with some matching heels and jewelry, giving one last look at the mirror before you went right out the door after hearing the familiar honk of one of your friend’s cars.

The ride to the club was the perfect way to start the night. All the girls looked beautiful, and while catching up, laughs and excitement quickly bubbled up from within their souls. Everyone was getting on the party mood, specially since they knew you wanted to relax and forget about the streak of bad luck your relationship was going trough. They knew well about your relationship with Javi, and while a few of them sometimes mentioned that “you should find someone who can give you the time you deserve,” they still were aware you loved him and stayed supportive of you and your decisions.

Upon arriving to the packed club and getting assigned a table, it was in no time that all of you had bright colored cocktails in your hands. After little observation, it was evident that the place was beautifully decorated, neon lights and mirrors bringing the tropical party vibe. The music was amazing and the energy was immaculate; people drank, laughed and danced around, making it inevitable to easily loosen up and get lost in the celebration spirit.

Looking around, something caught your eye. A man at the bar watching you with a slight smile and a glass in hand. His dark hair, big nose and mustache immediately reminded you of a certain someone. The mystery man held your gaze, and in return you raised the glass between your fingers towards him.

He reciprocated the gesture. Cheers!

“I just flirted with some guy!” You screamed over the music after bringing your attention back to the table full of girls. A mix of surprise, excitement and cluelessness spread amongst all of you. “He kinda looks like Javi.”

Some laughs and sarcastic eye rolls this time. Of course he did. “That man lives in your head rent free!” Claudia dropped.

And how could he not?

“He can be Javier tonight. Just have fun!” It was Marina dropping some input this time. “He isn’t here to do anything about it.”

That was true. Besides, it didn’t have to be more than just some innocent fun… feeling the joy and validation of having some stranger’s attention at a club.

“You’re right! You’re right!” A shrug before you downed the rest of your first drink. “It’s not like that’s bad anyways.”

Perhaps it was, you wouldn’t be happy to find out the man you loved and had been with for over a year, was going around town flirting with pretty girls at the bars.

Did you just call this random stranger pretty? Looks like it. You needed another drink. Fast.

And you did get it, and another one after that, and then you stopped counting… some of them sent as presents by the man sitting at the bar. The effect of the alcohol of course being unforgiving towards you. Suddenly you were a social butterfly, laughing and dancing around along with all your friends who were now in very similar positions, except for the ones that were now flirting and having fun with their newly met, club boyfriends for the night.

After doing a small turn in your place, your body was met with a hand shamelessly being placed on your waist. Suddenly the man from the bar had moved all the way to you, and he seemed to be making himself too comfortable within the bubble of your personal space. “Wanna dance?” He offered and you quickly nodded your head, the alcohol clouding your reflexes as you were simply glad he didn’t straight up ask for a kiss.

You were now at a point where your head was a blur, you started to feel clumsy. Maybe it was time to go home but everyone else seemed to be having so much fun, you didn’t want to ruin that.

As you continued to dance around with the man you hadn’t even bothered to put a name on, you started to notice a lot of weird movement around the club. Some people quickly moving from one side of the room to another, some also seemingly leaving with urgency… it felt like things were happening quickly in your surroundings and your foggy brain was barely catching up.

But as the friendly stranger pulled you closer, the music stopped and the lights were turned on. People complained and looked around in confusion, but trough the door quickly came a swarm of armed men. Either police officers or a cartel, you could only assume considering your understanding of what your eyes were seeing could easily be ambiguous. Without a warning, all hell broke loose; people ran around, screamed, law enforcement tried to control the situation. You desperately wanted to think of something; move, run, hide… but you froze, and didn’t snap out of it until the first gunshot was fired.

“Fucking hell!” You screamed like many others in the room, absolutely terrified. One of your friends pulled you quickly, almost dragging you under the table. The man you had been dancing with now nowhere to be found. “What the hell is happening,” a terrified murmur left your lips, the shooting continued.

Serves you well for trying to have fun.

You remained under the table, desperately trying to ignore the situation you were in while the palms of your hands fixed over your ears in an attempt to muffle the noise. At some point the piercing sound of the gunshots ceased, but arguing continued. Other attendees closer to the door seemed to start moving, probably getting evacuated, and suddenly, you felt yourself get pulled from under the table with a firm tug to what you thought was going to be your first time being used as hostage.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?” He screamed in your face and you immediately felt yourself get small in your place. The world around you two seemed to be moving erratically, but your eyes were fixed on Javier; the man now holding you harshly from your arm. His fingers digging into your skin, the fear born simply from the thoughts of what could have gone wrong now turned into anger.

Forming a sentence was impossible, not even a peep while a million thoughts and emotions ran trough you, the main one being how he had never yelled at you like that. Javier screamed your name and shook you slightly, but once again he didn’t get a response, causing him to curse and start pulling you towards the exit quickly. Anger and frustration oozing out of him in waves. From what you could see on the way out, the raid was a conjoined effort between the Colombian police and the DEA which now seemed to be under control. Some people were arrested and the evacuation had started. Javier managed to easily avoid the crowds, his hold strong around your wrist while he did this.

The two of you made it to his car, where he finally stopped dragging you around. The brunette looked at you with a frown, his body towering over you as your back clashed with the door of the vehicle. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your eyes immediately moving down to the pavement.

“Do you not know all the shit that’s happening with all these fucking narcos right now?” Javier spoke with gritted teeth, his hands now placed on his hips as you looked back up. He was trying to keep his cool, but his efforts were proved to be unsuccessful when he yelled again. “You couldn’t just pick up the damned phone and talk to me instead of running to make stupid decisions?”

“Even if I had tried, it would have taken me five business days to get ahold of you!” Now it was you yelling back, anger bubbling from deep within you, born from all the emotions you had been suppressing for weeks. The alcohol and adrenaline running trough your veins making you react badly to his entitlement. “By then I would have already been killed in—!”

“Don’t you fucking dare say that!” He raised his tone even higher, forcing you to shut up as he moved his hand to your face, pressing his fingers on each side of your jaw so firmly that it hurt. His body now pressed against yours, pushing you against the car.

“It’s the truth, Javier! I never see you anymore, I can barely get you on the phone!” You immediately clapped back, the anger seething trough your teeth before you sighed heavily, tears immediately pooling in your eyes before they spilled like bottled up emotions, streaking down your cheeks until they got your lover’s fingers wet. You closed your eyes, embarrassed. “I’ve missed you so much, I just wanted to have a good night for a change."

Javier’s expression was suddenly painted with confusion, this feeling within him being born from the realization of what he was doing. His harsh hold relaxed before he completely let go of your face, your tears had instantly brought him down to earth. He fucked up, he hurt you in more ways than one and now the way he was acting seemed to be almost as if he was trying to punish you for that too. It crumbled him to see you cry, even more when he knew it was his fault. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he ran a hand over his face with frustration before he pulled you into his arms. The closeness immediately getting the box you’d locked your feelings inside to open wide, your salty tears immediately forming stains on the fabric of his button up while he held you close, his thick fingers getting lost in the strands of your hair. “For screaming, for hurting you and for making you feel that way.”

“You’re everything,” he said your name softly, you could only sob in the familiar safety of his arms. It was freeing that you finally said how you felt and that he understood, but it didn’t make it any easier to get back to normal. Inside you’d felt like your relationship was beyond saving for weeks, all while being unable to bring yourself to bother him with that conversation. “I can’t lose you.”

Another familiar voice was heard from afar over the noise of the commotion. “Hey, Peña,” it was Steve, but Javier quickly shut him down by making a dismissive gesture with his hand. He realized it was about time he prioritized you over the job, at least this once. It’s not like they needed him when there were over a dozen other officers on the scene.

Right now he just wanted to be with you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you managed to mumble as you hugged him back, your small hands being softly placed on his back. It was true, that man leaving your life had become your biggest fear the moment you fell for him and it had gotten hard to see that possibility appear to be closer and closer every day.

“You won’t.” Javier dropped without even thinking about it. “That’s not on the table, it’ll never be.”

And you believed him. He was a man that kept his word after all.

You breathe in deeply, calming yourself down. “Can we go home?” There was still many things to go over, and a lot of stuff to put on the table together for the sake of actually seeing a change in your current dynamic, but it felt like you’d had enough for a day. It brought you peace to be with him in that moment, and after the stress you had been submitted to in the past hour, on top of the high alcohol levels in your system, you couldn’t think of anything better than to get in bed and leave any worries for another day.

“Of course, sweetheart.” The brunette let go of the embrace and placed a kiss on the top of your head, moving his hands to clean the leftover tears off your cheeks. “Let me just go find your friends so they know I’m taking you and, uh, sort some shit out. Is that ok?”

With a faint smile on your lips, you nodded calmly. “That’s ok.”

After that, he moved to open the door and help you into the passenger seat of the car. “I won’t be long,” Javier reassured before he left you inside the comfortable warmth of the vehicle, and from there you followed him around with your eyes, watching his moves intently. He quickly found your friends and while they seemed to get into a small argument, mainly because they appeared to be mad at him, he looked like he stayed calm and the issue was quickly settled. After that you saw him walk over to Steve, he seemed to explain the situation to him, and his partner nodded calmly in agreement.

As he walked back to you, you heard him yelling over the noise, “call me if you need anything!” To what the blonde replied with a simple, “don’t worry about it!”

Finally, he got into the driver’s seat. Your sight not leaving him for a second.

“Did I mention you look beautiful?”

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kyojurismo · 11 months

Text

★ PROLOGUE

# sub!kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader

summary : your behaviour is starting to change towards him, but kyojuro fears this is only his imagination and that you’re simply lonely and finding a way to enjoy yourself. is there a possibility that you’re actually attracted to him?

chapter tags : sfw, mitsuri makes an appearance, mention of rengoku family, i can’t think of anything else so lemme know if i missed something, 1.6k words — i’ll try to write more for future chapters, pray for me lol.

series masterpost

a/n : hello! i’m both excited and scared to post this lol, writing series and longer fics in general it’s not my forte, so please please please be kind and keep in mind that english is not my first language. i know there’s nothing spicy or truly entertaining — i was lowkey testing the water lmao — but i hope you guys enjoy it anyway <3 ps. lemme know if you wanna be added to my say yes to heaven taglist to be sure to not miss something.

a young, rich woman without a husband? of course people would speculate about it. that’s what your mother used to repeat. because rich women were always seen under a different light.

but, you didn’t care. you never searched for a husband, you knew your worth and that you didn’t need a man to take care of you.

the only man you were able to tolerate was your precious servant, kyojuro rengoku. kyojuro had been working for you for almost three months now, he was a loyal, caring and educated young man. he was working hard to help his family, and nothing seemed to distract him from work.

at least for now.

─────────────────────

the fact that you could work from home was a real blessing. you weren’t a lazy person, you just enjoyed being around him most of the time.

kyojuro was a simple guy. he was always smiling and his voice sounded so comforting and soothing whenever he spoke, whatever the topic. he would be able to smile back at a bully and kindly ask him to not vent their anger on others. that was truly amazing.

his personality was able to overshadow his appearance. no doubts he was an attractive young man, but the moment he started interacting with you – oh, you completely forget about his pretty face. you could ask anyone, they would all reply with the same thing.

you were sitting at the table in your dining room, patiently waiting for your usual breakfast. your eyes were scanning the first pages of the newspaper, devouring the fresh news for the day, when the doors opened. he walked in and served you quietly, before bowing and taking a couple of steps back so he could stay close enough to you if you needed anything, but not that much close to disturb your peaceful breakfast.

“did you sleep well last night, kyojuro?” you suddenly asked him, keeping your gaze focused on the page as you took the first bite of your food. “yes, ma’am,” here came his voice. “i’m glad. as you know, we had to move your room closer to mine for a couple of electrical issues,” from kyojuro’s perspective your tone showed a bit of annoyance, but in reality a part of you was glad that side of your house had been left without light until someone could come to fix the cables. “i understand, but you don’t have to worry about me, ma’am,” he smiled even though he was standing behind you. “i’m happy with everything you decide.”

oh, really?

“now that i think about it, i have a bunch of commissions in town. i’d like for you to accompany me, if that’s alright,” you let a small smirk curve your lips when he hesitated; it was the first time you asked him something like that, after all. could it be a challenge?

“m-ma’am, i’d gladly accompany you but—” you interrupted him, knowing that he was gonna explain he had to stay here since it was his role in the first place. “kyojuro, i’m not really asking for you approval,” your tone sent a shiver down his spine and he cleared his throat. “i will gladly come with you.”

“good boy,” you turned your head to glance at kyojuro and show him a smile, before turning to finish eating your breakfast. that caused you to miss the faint blush appearing on his cheeks at your praise. it was the most casual thing to say, but somehow kyojuro found very pleasurable to hear you say it.

one thing for sure, you weren’t that dumb. you noticed that after such period of service, kyojuro craved your praises whenever he did something for you. it made him feel good and sent a pleasant feeling through his whole body. all this from just the thought of making you feel satisfied with his work.

would you be able to get something more from him at this point?

─────────────────────

you were staring out the window quietly, watching with little interest the people and the buildings passing by. “i’ve never been in this part of the city,” you heard kyojuro’s comment and turned to look at him, catching him staring out with a sweet smile on his face. “i realise you rarely leave the house…” your voice is low but it still reached his ears.

“ma’am, there’s no need for you to feel bad. that’s just my job,” he tilted his head to the side and smiled at you, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. he looked so… adorable.

“i’ll let you come with me more often,” you assured with a smile then grabbed a little notebook with a pen, handing them to him. “you can write down the places you want to visit next time.”

kyojuro was surprised but nodded eagerly, genuinely appreciating it. he indeed wrote down a bunch of places, but the dream of coming here again felt distant to him nonetheless.

when the car stopped, you jumped off followed by him and started walking towards your usual clothes shop. kyojuro glanced around curiously while you looked around for a new elegant dress. “what do you think?” he turned his head to look at you, noticing you were holding a sleeveless dark blue dress into your hands. “u-um, it looks good.”

were you really asking him for advice?

“i’ll try it on then,” you smirked at him and walked towards the dressing rooms section. kyojuro followed you swiftly, in case you would need something.

“i need help with closing the back!” you called from behind the curtain. you waited patiently for him, since he seemed to be quite hesitant to enter inside. it was the first time you asked for something like this. “kyo– oh, i thought you left without me,” you chuckled and watched him from the reflection.

his hands were warm against your skin, as he helped you close the dress. his cheeks were slowly turning red as he timidly glanced at your reflection, your cleavage more visible than usual now. “it looks beautiful,” his smile showed he was a bit embarrassed, but sincere. you turned to face him and smiled, watching him scan your figure. “yeah… really beautiful.”

you laughed before patting his arm playfully. “relax! you’re so tensed,” you exclaimed while turning around. you glanced at yourself into the mirror, it was indeed a beautiful dress. “i’m gonna buy this one then,” you announced, satisfied.

you then started taking the dress off before catching his eyes into the mirror. “are you waiting for a show?” you smirked at him and kyojuro’s eyes widened while his whole face turned red, quickly followed by his ears. “i-i’m sorry!” he was quick to exit and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you found yourself enjoy teasing him. his reactions were cute. in fact, you kept doing it for the whole day. the mischievous touches whenever you were sitting next to each others, the compliments clearly going further that of a friendly relationship between a servant and his madam. kyojuro was left speechless most of the time, with red cheeks and his heart close to jump out of his chest.

but was it real or was it all in his head though?

─────────────────────

“no way!” mitsuri jumped in her seat, looking at her friend. “oh, kyojuro!” she grabbed his hands, making him gasp. “what are you gonna do about it?” he frowned at her words. “nothing?”

it was his day off work and kyojuro always tried to meet up with mitsuri, one of his childhood best friends.

mitsuri glared at him, almost offended. “what do you mean by that?!” she hit his chest, exasperated with him. “she’s clearly enjoying your company and there might be something more going on between you and her. take this opportunity!”

“i would never take advantage of her like that,” kyojuro’s tone was serious. “i work for her, she probably just feels lonely and that’s her way to have some fun. i can’t blame her at all. plus…” his voice trailed off. “plus??” mitsuri waited expectantly for him to continue. “i like getting her attention, so i don’t really want to ruin anything,” he confessed it in a very low tone, mitsuri had to lean closer to hear him clearly.

“ooh, i knew it!” she clapped her hands happily and smiled sweetly at him. “alright, do as you please… but lemme know if something changes!” she made him promise, showing him her pinkie. “don’t worry, nothing will happen between me and her,” he said while raising his own pinkie, locking them together. “a girl can dream!”

kyojuro found himself smile then while listening to her rambling about some sweet guy working with her, as they kept sitting at the restaurant table enjoying their lunch together. she was a very lively person and was usually seen smiling most of the time. he enjoyed her company and was happy to be her friend.

after that, kyojuro would usually visit his family and give them his monthly payment, making sure they could easily afford any kind of costs. he was mostly working to help them, after all.

you never took advantage of his need to work, you actually admired him. not many would do the same and kyojuro was really a son to be proud of. you hoped his father was aware of such thing. you were for sure and, deep down, a part of kyojuro wanted you to be proud of him…

taglist : @vampcubus @naomi-nana @stuckinthewrongworld @doumadono @unear7hly @frickinsleepdeprived @roseofthevolturi @mioblobby @thedevilishlyangelic @ilysm-akari

#⭐️ — say yes to heaven ( series )#📂 — writing !!#sub!kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku fanfic #kny kyojuro #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic

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revelinmagic · 1 year

Text

Sleepless Nights - the Bad Batch (Crosshair x Reader)

Pairings: Crosshair x FormerJedi!reader (romantic), Hunter x FormerJedi!reader (platonic) [gender-neutral reader]

Warnings: no smut, mentions of insomnia, fluff, first kiss, intense kissing tho (no use of y/n)

Summary: With your insomnia acting up again, you decide to take a late night walk to try and clear your head. Unknown to you, a certain clone who has trouble expressing his feelings follows you, worried for your safety. When you catch him following you, questions are asked and certain mutual feelings come to light...

Word count: 3,329

Authors note: so this is my first fic, hope y’all like it! It does have slow start but it speeds up fast. This story takes place outside of canon story. It exists in a universe where Crosshair came back to the batch after time spent with the Empire but before any of the events of season 2. (this is also cross posted on ao3 , but I did just start writing on there too so there is nothing other than this fic...yet)

================================================

If the Marauder had to break down anywhere, you were glad it was this planet. The days were staying below too hot, but the night also did not get too cold. And you would know, seeing as your insomnia had gotten bad again over the past couple of weeks.

Sleep was constantly on your mind, and you could tell the Batch knew about it. Tech had “coincidently” started informing you on tips and tricks to sleep better, and had tried to pass it off as information he saw as beneficial for the entire team. Hunter was much better at being subtle, softly asking if you needed extra caf; he would also happen to forget to put you on the watch rotation recently. Echo and Wrecker were much more straightforward about their concern, with Echo offering his own extra pillows and blankets he kept to support his metal joints and keep him warmer while asleep, and Wrecker pushing Lula into your hands and announcing “She always helps me sleep!” Your squad truly cared about you.

Omega, too, had picked up on your habits after catching you awake far too late whilst she tried to sneak into the cockpit and scare Hunter (which, of course, never actually worked, though Hunter would sometimes pretend it did for Omega’s sake). Following Wrecker’s lead, she offered to share the stuffed Tooka doll with you.

The only person who had yet to comment on your nightly struggles was Crosshair.

Where the others cut you slack when you were sluggish in training, Crosshair would sneer and push you harder with his mildly cutting comments and sarcastic feedback on your abilities. You never fell behind in combat, though, the adrenaline always kicking you into focus and allowing your skills to shine through. And honestly, you know that is the only reason Hunter hasn’t sidelined you yet, or put you on permanent “Omega watch.”

And so here you were, yet again, lying awake while the rest of your squad slept soundly, or as soundly as possible with Wrecker’s snores snaking through the darkness.

Huffing to yourself, you twist again, trying to find a comfortable position in your bunk. A few more minutes pass with the same routine before you decide that it isn’t worth it to even try. Pulling on the sweatshirt and long pants from the foot of your bunk, you slip on boots as well, cause while the world outside was not cold, you didn’t want the air coming off the damp ground to give you a chill. Padding to the cockpit, you open the door to see the pilot’s seat swivel around, Hunter regarding you eyes containing the same worry they always seemed to have when he looked at you recently.

“Heard me coming?” You question, leaning against the door frame.

Hunter chuckles, crossing his arms before responding: “Heard you tossing and turning actually. Same as last night, and the night before.” You look down, not knowing what to say when he continues, “I suppose you are coming to let me know that you are going for a walk.”

He says it as a statement of fact, and it is. You had gotten into the habit of walking around at night under the guise of patrolling, though you were quite sure that at least Hunter knew that was bogus after you overheard a tense squabble between Crosshair and himself over the fact that you went out by yourself frequently. Crosshair had been saying how it was irresponsible of you to be wandering by yourself, and Hunter had chastised him for his comments.

You nod at Hunter, and he just sighs to himself before turning to unlock the ship’s doors, “Just make sure to stay alert. I know our scanners would have picked up on any threats, but take your blaster with you in case.”

“Yes, Sergeant.” And with that you make your way out of the cockpit, stopping by your bunk to grab your blaster before heading out the door, not noticing that the bunk across from yours was empty as well.

=================================================================

He was laying on the roof of the Marauder when he felt the ship’s doors open and close. Sitting up to see who it was, it came as no surprise when Crosshair saw you step out from the shadows and into the moonlight. With his enhanced eyesight, you were more than just an outline, every detail of you perfectly clear as you took a deep breath of the night air before starting off into the night.

Crosshair was the only one besides Hunter that was fully aware of your nightly walks. The others had noticed your lack of sleep, but none of them seemed to notice the muddy shoes you hid under your bunk, none but Hunter and Crosshair himself.

While watching you walk away from the ship, Crosshair felt that familiar warm lurch in his chest that seemed to arise whenever he looked at you in the past couple of months.

When he had rejoined his brothers, he was surprised to see they had yet another addition besides his younger sister: you. Apparently you were a Jedi healer, trained not only in combat but also in how to use the force to close wounds and soothe minds. You had been rescued from slavers by the Batch, and since then you had stayed with them, becoming one of them and aiding on missions. Cid was also happy, as it had saved her money on supplies as well as the Batch needing less time between missions to inevitably heal back up.

Being the only one of the Batch that held no trepidation in interacting with him once he finally returned, you had since become stuck in his head. Well, interacting as much as he would allow. Crosshair kept his distance, not knowing how to act around you, and that space he kept between you only increased as feelings started to bloom from the seeds of kindness you showed him. And it didn’t hurt that you were one of the most stunning creatures he had ever seen.

So of course he was more worried than he let on about your inability to fall asleep. It distracted him when in action, feeling the need to check on you to make sure you had not fallen due to exhaustion or to simply make sure you were still there.

It was starting to get annoying. And so he of course worked through it the only way he knew how, with sarcasm and aggression masking his true emotions.

He pushed you in training in hopes the exhaustion would finally hit you and grant you at least a few hours of rest. He argued with Hunter about letting you on missions, trying to allow you time to yourself on the ship. Crosshair even convinced Hunter to take you off of watch duty, making the excuse that he would rather take your place himself than leave the safety of the team in the hands of someone who could not even figure out a way to sleep. And his heart had fallen when he turned to see you had heard what he said, not knowing he was trying to help you in the only ways he knew how. And by the gods, he wanted to help you.

As you disappeared into the sparse treeline, Crosshair decided that it did not do any harm to follow you, make sure you did not get into any trouble. Climbing down the side of the ship, Crosshair slung his rifle over his shoulder and followed you into the wood.

Moving quietly, he kept you in sight. He noticed your blaster and smiled to himself. That’s my girl.

Your movements were relaxed yet confident, he noticed, and he guessed it was not the first time you had taken this path specifically. But where were you going?

His question was answered a few moments later when a clearing suddenly appeared, boasting a small, still lake, a perfect mirror to the galaxies above it. Crosshair hid just within the trees as you moved towards the bank and sat down in the grass, pulling your knees to yourself as you gazed at the starry reflection before you.

He spent a few minutes like that, watching you watch the water. It wasn’t often he got to observe you outright like this, or for this long. He made sure to keep his glances short and excusable should he ever be caught by his brothers. But now, he noticed things about you that caused a thrill to run up his spine as he realized he was probably the only one to ever see you in such a relaxed state.

He saw the way the breeze gently riled your hair, how you seemed to sigh with the wind every time. He saw how you gently kneaded the wet ground, feeling the living force of each grass blade around you. He watched as you gently lifted tendrils of water with your mind, creating small spirals that would then cause ripples when they fell, your shoulders moving a bit in what Crosshair assumed was a light laugh.

Crosshair was so focused on you, on the minute details you were exhibiting, that he somehow failed to realize when you sensed a lifeforce you recognized.

“Are you going to come out and join me, Crosshair?”

His breath pushed out of his lungs in one swoop. How long had you known he was there? Did you know he had followed you? Could you sense his heart speed up at the sound of his name from your lips?

Crosshair silently took a deep breath before emerging to join you on the bank.

================================================

You were internally cursing yourself for not realizing he was there sooner as Crosshair came to sit beside you. You blame your sleepless state as the culprit of your failure to stay alert. You had only sensed him when you reached out a bit further with the force to check the trees for any creatures, but there was no way you were going to let Crosshair know that, knowing he would not let it go that a Jedi had failed to notice a threat so close.

The two of you sat together, staring out across the lake you had discovered four nights ago. Glancing at your companion, he was staring at the ground, not likely to speak first, so you again broke the silence.

“So we both know what I am doing out here this late, question is why are you here?” you spoke each word particularly soft, not wanting to scare him off. In truth, your heart had skipped a beat when you recognized his energy. Excitement, nervousness, and heat had rushed through you. How long had he been watching you? Had he followed you? Did he come after you because he cared?

You hoped beyond all reason that he was here because he was worried, because he cared. Kriff, you wanted him to care. To feel something for you beyond the stiff formality of a co-worker’s relationship.

Ever since you had met him, you felt a pull towards the Marksman. You knew that as glad as the other members of the Batch were that he was back, they were just as wary to trust him again. But to you, you who could sense the battle raging in his head, he proved himself without having to say a word. His love for his brothers and Omega was palpable to you, and it had almost knocked the breath out of you when you sensed his determination to gain their trust, to earn back their faith and love (though, you knew they had never stopped loving him). Crosshair seemed surprised when you showed no animosity at his presence, and even more so when you went out of your way to try and befriend him.

That first meeting had been near 200 standard rotations ago, and at least for you, the want to be his friend had grown into something more. You wanted him. All of him; the dark, the light, and everything in between. And here he sat, mere inches away, where to touch him, all you would have to do is shift your weight the slightest bit in his direction. But he didn’t want that. He didn’t want you. Why else would he have built so many walls between the two of you. Why else would he cut conversation short and turn away whenever you managed to start talking about anything real. Why else would he flinch when you had to touch his skin to heal him, and then leave without looking you in the eyes as he muttered a curt “thank you.”

All of this ran through your head as Crosshair didn’t answer your question. He just kept staring at the ground, playing with the grass you yourself had been grabbing at just moments ago.

Typical.

With a sigh, you went to push yourself off of the ground.

“I -” Crosshair started. Freezing, you don’t dare to move. Crosshair takes another breath, “I saw you leave the ship, so I made the decision to follow you. Is that a crime now?” His voice had switched from soft to standoffish, and you knew he was embarrassed to admit he had intentionally filled you out into the forest. That is when you felt it, his unease and… Crosshair was nervous?

Relaxing back onto the ground, you move the slightest bit closer, just brushing your ankle against his, and you hear his quick intake of breath at the contact.

Impossible… Did he actually feel the same?

It is now or never, you realize. This is the moment. You cannot keep living in a state of pining and confusion. You need to know, whatever the outcome. Either he wants you, or he will reject you, and you can start to move on.

“And why did you follow me?” You speak softly, the same way you would speak to a beast prepared to run.

His leg keeps bouncing as he formulates an answer in his head, so you decide to be bold.

Placing a hand on his knee, you lean into his line of sight, “Cross?” Crosshair goes still at the contact and shortened version of his name, gaze switching between your face and your hand on his leg. He makes no attempt to move. He decides on your face, eyes wide guarded but laced with…hope. He looks hopeful. You push again.

“Were you worried about me, Cross?”

Wordlessly he nods, swallowing hard as he can feel something shifting in the air. And he too knows that this is it. This is the moment that will define your relationship for better or worse.

Moving closer again, you raise your hand to cup his cheek, giving him every opportunity to grab it. To tell you to stop. To get up and laugh at you. But he doesn't.

Crosshair can scarcely breathe as your hand meets his face, a shudder running through him as your thumb slowly traces the bottom of his tattoo and his eyes close. The force around you shimmers with tension and warmth, and without even trying to can feel your energies reaching out to each other, begging to unite.

Just one more push, you think to yourself as you brace on the edge of something new and inevitable. And you pray to the force that you have not misread this entire situation.

“Do you care for me as violently as I care for you?” The words are a whisper against Corsshair’s ear, you being closer than even he realized. Though they may as well have been a gunshot the way they tore through him.

Eyes shooting open, his hand grasps the wrist of the hand touching his face. Chest rapidly rising and falling Crosshair studies your face: searching, reading, hoping. You hold your breath as you stay still as possible, all of your cards on the table as you wait for him.

After what feels like a lifetime, Crosshair’s eyes focus on yours. And whatever he was looking for across the rest of you, he must have found it in your gaze because just as your heart starts to fall, one word is muttered from his lips: “Yes.”

You don’t know who moves first, but you also don’t care. The force explodes in and around you as his mouth finds yours. His lips come crashing onto yours with a passion that can only be found in a person who has longed for what they now possess.

Pulling on your wrist, he drags you onto his lap, your legs straddling his thighs and waist. You hear Crosshair gasp your name as a whimper escapes the stoic clone. His hands then find the back of your neck and your waist as your hands come to run through this coarse silver hair that has grown long enough to grab onto. Tugging slightly elicited a groan from the Marksman, and you take the opportunity to swipe your tongue into his mouth for just a moment before retracting it.

Growling, Crosshair flips your positions, pinning you beneath him and taking a moment to meet your shocked face with a smirk of his own before he takes advantage of your open mouth with his own tongue, eliciting a moan from both of you. His hands travel to your hips while you dig your nails into each of his biceps, earning you another growl.

You let out a whine as his lips leave yours, only to gasp as Crosshair begins lavishing your neck. He kisses down your throat, only to lick up the same strip of skin. Finding the sensitive spot just below your ear he sucks slightly, pulling another moan from you that causes him to chuckle, his stubble scratching slightly against your earlobe. Kissing along your jaw, he dips his head to nip at the base of your neck, soothing each small bite with his tongue. Before long, you can’t take it anymore and pull his lips back onto yours.

After a few more seconds, you each have to pull away, gulping down air. Lifting your head to meet his eyes, a smile starts to form on your face, mirrored on Corsshair’s own. A giggle erupts from your chest as you lean your foreheads against one another. With a dry chuckle, Crosshair pulls away from you and stands, offering you his hand which you gladly take.

Once standing, Crosshair stares at you for a moment before speaking in that spine tingling voice of his, “In case that was not enough of an answer, mesh’la, I will reiterate.” He grins cheekily and you have to look down as you blush at the Mando'an pet name. That is when he takes his finger and raises your chin to him, making sure you are looking him in the eyes for the next thing he says.

“Yes, cyar'ika, I care about you. More than I can probably admit now or ever. I followed you because I was worried and because I wanted to. Because I wanted to be there for you. Because,” his voice drops an octave as he steps so that you are pressed together once again, “I want you, and everything that comes along with you.”

He presses a kiss to your lips, not as fiery and wanting as before, but instead filled with love, devotion, and promise. Pulling away to see that you fully understand what he is saying he watches as you nod, tears threatening to spill from your tired eyes.

Without another word, he reaches down and takes your hand, leading you back to the Marauder just as the first light of day begins to spread its fingers into the sky.

And if the others notice you snuggled up and sleeping soundly for the first time in weeks against Crosshair’s chest, or if they notice the sniper’s normally expressionless face set in a grin while asleep, no one says anything. Or at least not yet.

For now, they let you rest.

#bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #bad batch x reader #the bad batch crosshair #tbb x reader #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #star wars tbb #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch x reader

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inklore · 9 months

Note

I saw you post about how people should like to comment on writers work but I slightly sympathise bc some people are embarrassed and/or think that their comment/reblog would be useless. But more people are coming to this app to read a fic like another wattpad or an ‘easier’ ao3 instead of using their acc to post what they like yk

Srry for the rant <333

no need to apologize for the rant it’s always welcome here if it’s done in kind and yours was <3

i get what your saying about people coming to the app thinking it’s like all the other reading platforms but if we’re being honest i’d say ao3 is easier, better selection, plus when someone views your work your ‘hits’ go up and that can sometimes help more people find your work if they go by that / sort the fics on ao3 like that. wattpad literally has the same system of ‘views’ on your work that help boost it, but also commenting there is really big (as someone who was once on wp comments meant everything which is why i don’t get how ppl don’t understand that comments are everything here as well).

you could also say these other platforms make it seem like tumblr works the same way and it doesn’t, but even when writers try to spread the word on that fact not everyone wants to listen or sees it because people don’t rb (which tumblr was made for that let’s not forget).

but on this great app it doesn’t matter how many people view our work, read it silently, press the little heart, no one will see it unless you rb it. and being shy about commenting and thinking comments won’t matter is backwards thinking to me. how do you think writers feel knowing they have 100 notes and 10 of them are rbs and 0 comments? like we know there’s people out there reading our work and not even giving the pointless heart to it and there’s not much we can do about it, and yeah we are so grateful for all of it, but what we wouldn’t give to even have ONE PERSON comment some emojis on our fic. let us know that someone other than ourselves actually liked it. a ‘like’ can mean anything, it can mean nothing. it does nothing. it’s nice, it’s acknowledging, but that’s all it does. it’s a silent compliment that keeps our minds wondering.

if you weren’t embarrassed to read the fic you shouldn’t be embarrassed to comment on it. i’m not trying to sound harsh but it’s 2023, half the population reads fic. devours it. ppl are famous authors because of it now or get ‘tiktok fame’ over liking it. you commenting ‘omg amazing’ or putting two little emojis in a writers comments is only going to make them feel seen. feel great. feel like they’re not just posting stuff on here for bots. so i don’t super sympathize with people who are embarrassed because i just can’t wrap my head around it. but i’m also saying it’s okay and i’ve never once saw a writer get mad over anything someone has commented on their work (unless it’s been mean or a criticism they didn’t ask for or a ‘part two pls’).

if you like something on here reblog it!!!! comment on it!!!!!

#as someone with anxiety adhd and depression i get the being nervous about it but i’ve literally pasted a quote from the fic and added #thot emojis after it #like that’s all it takes to make a writers day #i literally went down someone’s masterlist and devoured and commented on every fic #thinking wow i’m probably being annoying #but i didn’t care because their writing was so fucking amazing and i NEEDED to tell them #reading is silence is for the books in your bedroom not tumblr #in** i’m too lazy to rewrite the sentence #yell shout #if you like it comment #reblog it #▸ laur answers

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i-am-beckyu · 5 months

Text

One Small Gift

HELLO! I TOLD YOU I'D POST ONE MORE FIC THIS YEAR! And I am very proud of myself for making it a Christmas centered fic! I can't believe it's actually been a year since I last posted a Christmas fic. Like where did the time go and how did this thing spawn?

I'm gonna ramble a bit more at the bottom of this fic about me and the community but lets not hold you up any longer so I give you: The Christmas Fic- One Small Gift :3

cw: fear, death mention (but no actual death), lying, panic and anxiety, fluff- Like, ALOT of Fluff, hidden identity and of course happy endings. You know, the usual angst/fluffy Beckyu fic :3 word count: 8351

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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Cold

Why did the walls always have to be so damn cold?

Tommy’s mind couldn’t help but linger on the thought, as the Borrower shivered making his way through the maze that was the inside the house walls.

Human Beans invented heaters AGES ago for the insides of their houses to keep warm, so how was it that the inside of the walls were still always so flippen freezing?

Would it kill them to think of the little guy freezing their butt off just once?

Well no, maybe not. But it certainly would Tommy.

As much as the young blonde would love to cuss at the home owner for not giving him a proper source of heat, the Borrowers code quite literally FORBID them from ever telling a Human of their existence. Not to forget the fact that it would mean doom for a borrower if they ever did. All the horror stories of Borrowers being squished or experimented on from the elders to go off being proof enough.

Death by Human Beans?

HA! Absolutely NOT!

That’s exactly the reason why he is trying to get supplies for the Winter to warm himself up, before it gets even colder!

Tommy grumbled to himself as he ducked and weaved past forgotten cobwebs about how it was such a pain to be in this position in the first place. He’d had a perfectly fine home in a tree nook in the forest that had always remained nice and cosy warm during the colder months.

Even if that meant he’d been living on his own, Tommy had been happy living as an Outie borrower for as long as he could remember. Well at least he had, before some tall, pretentious brunette freak decided his home would be the perfect tree to cut down and drag all the way back to his stupid freezing cold house.

But it gets better, because even though the main part of his home was actually still intact under the now stump, the Bean still took the top half of the tree-

With Tommy still inside it!

They flippen took HIS house and wrapped it in a net; effectively trapping the poor borrower and then strapped it to the top of their car and drove hours and hours to a Human Town with him hanging on for dear life.

And that’s not even the worst part because not only did the flippen Bean steal part of his house, but then they had the audacity to cover the tree's dying corpse in fancy decorations and shining lights.

Like seriously WTF?!

A Bean kidnaps him from the only place he’s ever really known and covers his once thriving residence all merrily in ornaments, while he’s forced to flee his only real known place of safety with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the few supplies he did have stored in the upper levels of his now dying home. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but it was the only choice he really had.

Stay in the tree and get caught, or try and survive in the Beans' walls until Winter passes.

He chose the latter of course- (It’s not like staying would have helped him anyways)

Getting down from the top of the tree had been, well- less than a fun time for the Borrower. The big purple bruises across his back were a throbbing reminder from his impact on the floor at times, but he managed.

Instead, Tommy had started to navigate his temporary ‘soon to be home’ in the walls getting an idea of the layout and where the best places were to borrow from. He just had to make it through the Winter and then he could go home. Trying to get back to his nook now would be impossible with all the snow cover on the ground, but he’d get back to the forest even if it killed him.

Which might be the case soon if he doesn’t get some new clothes and heat source quick.

That was the main issue with being kidnapped after all. You only have what’s on your back and well, Tommy hadn’t exactly been expecting to get yoinked away in his scrappy T-Shirt and shorts. He had proudly made them himself with the few scraps of fabric he’d managed to find from some Beans that had been passing through years ago on a camping trip, but the fabric was light, and not made to be worn in such cold conditions.

He’d only meant to go up and check what the heck the loud thumping outside his tree was like any normal person. He was expecting a deer or maybe a bear using it as a scratching post, not a Bean cutting their house down and taking him along with it. You don’t exactly have time to think about putting on proper clothing when your everything is at stake.

So that was step one: Find some material and make some clothes- a jacket the top priority.

Tommy is very thankful that he had his borrowing bag on him, that he still has his self made needle and some old thread so he at least didn’t have to start from nothing. Finding the material hadn’t been too difficult to locate either. When he first scouted the place, he discovered pretty quickly that the Bean had a habit of leaving stuff all over the place, so borrowing supplies hadn’t been difficult to do without being noticed. It’s how he found the most perfect fluffy woollen red sock to make a coat and blanket from. He would already have it now though if the Bean hadn’t come back before he could swipe it.

The Borrower had tried to come back for it later, but the Bean had decided it was time to clean their room up because he had some guests coming for this thing called ‘Chris-mass’- whatever that was- and the sock was gone.

So instead he grabbed what he could and made his way back to the walls with just enough fabric to make a new pair of pants and some crackers for dinner.

But it still didn’t fix the whole freezing situation.

What Tommy really needed was a candle.

To a Human Bean it may seem to be an insignificant source of light, but to a Borrower it could literally be the difference between a warm nights sleep and becoming a Borrower popsicle! But that was easier said then done because all the usual spots Beans would normally keep candles, were replaced with flippen electric ones!!!!

What’s wrong with fire on candles!? Why would you want a fake candle that just flickers and produces less light than a real one?

That or something for a bed. At least that way he’d have a comfortable place to sleep and trap his own body heat.

He really wishes he could have taken those socks…

As if this Bean wasn’t bad enough, not only did they lack the materials Tommy so desperately needed, but they wouldn’t shut up talking into the black box (a fone he thinks it’s called from memory) to other Beans with how excited they were about them coming to stay for the Hole-lid-days and spend time huddled together by the fire or something dumb.

“Come on Dad! Let me host. If you let me host, I’ve got the coolest surprise planned for you and Techno I swear!! Plus don’t you want to come and see me?”

Lucky prick. Got a Dad and a brother…

Now don’t get him wrong, Tommy is a big man, if not the biggest man to ever exist and he doesn’t need anyone. But he also couldn’t help but long for someone to share the cold season with like the Beans did. It had been so long since he’d seen another Borrower like himself and though he’d never admit it, living alone did get a little bit lonely sometimes. It would be nice if just once he could share a night cuddled up close to a loved one, and just bask in each other’s company.

But Tommy didn’t have time to be sentimental about things he’d likely never have.

He needed to find a way to stay warm and get warm now.

But the universe decidedly hated Tommy because, tonight was apparently December 24th-

Chrisymiss Eve.

Tommy had been here about a week or so and in his short stay still wasn’t 100% sure what this whole Khrislermas was, but it appeared to be a BIG deal to the Beans.

Apparently, all the Beans get together whether it’s family or friends to spend time together and exchange gifts. It’s about being thankful for what you have or whatever and something about showing how much you love someone by giving and receiving presents.

Tommy thought it was actually quite a nice thing the Beans did and wished that Borrowers had something similar themselves in their culture. However, there was one thing he still didn’t quite understand about this whole holiday thing.

Who the heck is Santa Claus?

He’d been taking some more crackers the Bean had left out from the kitchen while this ‘tv show’ played on the Bean's big Black box that was talking about this Santa guy. Apparently, he was some elusive, big fat man, dressed all in red with a big white bushy beard, who climbed down the Beans chimneys, and left gifts for all the little boys and girls of the world. He had this list too that knew if you’d been naughty or nice and would leave the good children gifts and the bad children coal in their stockings.

Children could write letters to Santa or he’d visit and children could sit on his knee and ask him for a gift they would like and he would deliver the toys to children all over the world on Christmas eve when everyone was sleeping, only to have disappeared by daybreak.

Tommy hadn’t thought much of this Santa at first- not when it was just another Bean to avoid. That was until he learned two very important details.

1- Santa delivered presents to ALL children of the world.

And 2- Santa wasn’t meant to be seen by Humans either.

So not only did this Santa guy literally just give out free gifts, but Tommy literally had a way to get exactly what he needed for the winter!

All he needed to do was talk to Santa and he’d be saved!

Now you might be thinking: But Tommy, you said it yourself. Santa isn’t meant to be seen by anyone so what makes you the exception?

Simple.

Borrowers aren’t meant to be seen by Beans and neither is Santa.

Which means just like Borrowers, Santa must not want to be caught (which if he thinks too hard about it makes sense since he literally breaks into houses but anyways) and unlike with Beans, there is no rule that says Borrowers can’t see Santa!

All he has to do is wait for Santa to visit Crystamas eve, and then he can ask for his gift! Santa probably even knows what he wants, being made of magic and all! He just never knew Santa existed so he’s never asked for his gift before!

If he were a more greedy Borrower, he could ask for so much more to make up for all the years he never got a gift, but that would probably put him on Santa’s naughty list. And while coal would be good, Tommy doesn’t exactly want to burn the house down with him inside it. So this was his best shot to get exactly what he needed.

The hard bit though, was waiting for Santa to arrive. That meant not only having to be out in the living room where the fireplace was, but also meant he had to wait for the Bean to fall asleep. Which really meant that it would be AGES before Santa would come because the Bean of the house was terrible at sleeping at night.

The man literally had no sleep schedule and would stay up till terrible times in the morning before drifting off. Normally that wasn’t much of an issue for the Borrower having observed this early on, but right now it was very much a hindrance because it could be hours before they went to bed.

It also seemed that they wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, because the amount of energy and excitement the Bean had displayed the whole day about his family coming home was overwhelming. He’d come home at one stage with this big bag of stuff talking on the black box about how his super cool surprise was coming along and how it would be awesome since they let him host Chrimpmas- whatever that meant.

Tommy had hoped with the excitement of the holiday they’d have been ready to pass out by now, but he couldn’t be more wrong with the amount of commotion he could hear from down the hall- and that’s through the walls.

At least he could observe everything going on from his place on the bookshelf. It was right next to a small crack in the wall he could just squeeze through, but it gave him a good view of the living room but also enough cover from prying eyes unless he made his presence known. However, being out of the walls had one difference the blonde hadn’t accounted for.

Heat.

The fire had been lit and was keeping the whole room nice and toasty warm compared to the harsh bite the walls somehow managed to keep. The whole atmosphere made him almost want to curl up and fall asleep. It had been so long since he’d been able to just enjoy the warmth in the air and not be shivering to keep alive.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if he had a nap before Santa arrived.

Just a quick one….

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Tommy was awoken to a rather loud THUNK as the Borrower shot up from where he had fallen asleep atop the shelf.

It took the blonde a moment to realise where he was and not panic about being out in the open before his eyes settled upon a figure.

Sprawled out across the floor in a heap of red and white was the jolly big man himself.

Santa Claus.

The one and only.

“Santa!” Tommy yelled excitedly as he hurriedly manoeuvred to stand. “Santa you came!”

Santa’s head snapped up from the floor alarmed, as they pushed themselves to stand and take a defensive stance.

“Who said that?!” they shouted, looking around wildly panicked. “Show yourself!”

Tommy giggled to himself. Santa was so silly.

“Up here Santa! I’ve been waiting for you.” The blonde waved as the man's head turned and their eyes fell onto his small form.

Tommy grinned at the magical man taking him all in.

Just like the figure on the big black box, Santa wore a big red coat with white fluff lining the ends of his sleeves. A big black belt was strapped around their waist, fastened with a fancy golden buckle and sturdy black boots on their feet to keep out the snow. Their head was adorned with an oversized big red hat, with a giant white fluffy pom pom on the end, and they had a long white beard that travelled down their chest. And last but not least was a pair of gold rimmed glasses perched on the tip of their rosy red nose which accentuated their big brown eyes that were staring at him in wonder.

Huh.

He could have sworn that Santa's eyes were blue.

“I can’t believe you came! I wasn’t sure if you would since I never sent a letter but you must have known anyway cause here you are!” The little borrower stated excitedly as Santa removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I really need my Crimpmess present.”

“I’m sorry you’re what?” the man’s eyes furrowed in confusion as they processed what the younger had said.

“My present!.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “You know, the whole reason why you’re here.”

Santa didn’t exactly seem like he knew what was going on. Right now all he was doing was staring and Tommy was getting a bit annoyed.

Was that not why Santa was here? To deliver his present like the show had said?

Tommy huffed annoyed he had to explain all this. Wasn’t this like his job? He should know!

“I’m sorry,” Santa began slowly as if trying to process. “I didn’t actually know you were here.”

“Why else would you have come then?” Tommy crossed his arms unimpressed. “I’m the only kid here, but don’t tell anyone else I said that. I’m a big man! The biggest ever!”

This finally seemed to warrant a different reaction from the older, as they looked the boy up and down unimpressed by this so-called ‘fact’.

“A big man huh? You look more like a child. What are you- 12?”

Tommy feigned a gasp, grasping his chest offendedly. “I’ll have you know I’m 14 and the biggest man alive! I’m only a child for the purpose of getting my gift tonight and tonight only!”

Santa couldn’t stifle a laugh as he watched as the small child stomped his foot in a mini tantrum at being called 12. It was endearing in a way but he still wasn’t sure how to proceed with a tiny child standing on their bookshelf.

“Well whatever you say I guess, but I still I didn’t know you were here.”

The blonde shrugged before moving closer to the shelfs edge. “Ah well it doesn’t matter. You’re here now so I’d like my gift please! You have it right?”

“If I didn’t know you were here, then how would I have your present with me?” Santa asked.

Well he did make a good point. It’s not like he sent Santa a letter and he hadn't met him to tell him like other human bean children had until now.

“Oh right. Guess I better come sit on your knee and tell you what I’d like than.” Tommy stated matter of factly, as the small Borrower moved to the edge of the shelf and stabbed his hook into the wood, quickly jumping off to descend on his rope to the ground.

“Wait, DON’T DO THAT!”

The blonde yelped in surprise, moving instinctually to protect his ears at the sheer volume the man shouted, in turn losing his grip on his rope, quickly plummeting down to the ground below. Santa lunged forward with an outstretched hand as the boy slipped down the rope at a rapid speed, catching him before any real harm could be done. He semi slammed into the wall, clutching his hand to his chest as they did so before quickly unfurling their hand.

“Oh my prime! Kid- kid are you alright?” Santa said frantically checking over the boy he now held in his palm.

Tommy shook his head, dizzy from the sudden force that had rammed into him only moments ago. He tried to steady himself grabbing, onto the nearest thing his hand could find as he begun to regain his bearings.

Oh he was going to ache tomorrow…

“As soon as the world stops spinning, yeah.”

Santa sighed in relief as Tommy allowed himself to regain focus. It was then that he really took note of where he was.

Normally, if a Borrower was sitting in the hand of someone almost 100x his size, he would be kicking and screeching to get away. But this was Santa Claus’s hand and Tommy felt only wonder.

It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The thing he had grabbed onto was apparently Santa’s thumb and it was almost as big as his head! Even if it was a bit weird sitting on the leathery texture of their skin, the warmth radiating beneath him was heavenly, and the way the man’s fingers curled slightly over him protectively felt nothing but comforting.

Santa hadn’t moved since he caught Tommy mid air, and was staring at Tommy as if they would disappear. They seemed stuck on what to do next, but also amazed he was sitting there at all.

“You alright there big man?” Tommy raised a brow confused at why the man would act this way. Santa was literally made of magic and had flying reindeer for goodness sake! A borrower existing surely was no cause for such amazement? There were surely way more interesting magical things to see than a lowly Borrower like him.

(But then again, he was a pretty poggers Borrower if he did so say that himself, so staring could be justified for that reason)

This finally snapped the old man out of their wondrous stupor, as they squinted their eyes open and shut with a quick shake of their head.

“Uh yep. All good um. Let's- go sit down. Yeah- yeah, let's do that.” Santa said, confirming more to themself than Tommy.

Santa brought the boy protectively to their chest to brace them before they moved away from the book shelf, smoothly walking over to the couch where the old man sat down ever so slowly to not jostle their small passenger. The second they were bending down to sit though, Tommy was launching himself off Santa’s palm for his knee as the bearded man frantically tried to stop them in their escapade.

“Kid, would you stop doing that? You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Pfft please. This is nothing compared to how I got down from that tree over there.” The boy grinned as they pointed to the far corner of the living room.

The man's head followed to where the boy was pointing, the Christmas tree displayed proudly in a large pot tied with a red bow, small lights flickering on and off in changing patterns.

“Tree? You mean the Christmas tree?”

“Yep!” Tommy stood proudly popping the p. “I had to get down somehow and my hook would have gotten stuck in amongst the branches if I had tried to abseil down. So I did what any logical Borrower would do and jumped.”

“You jumped?!” Santa’s eyes widened, as he looked back and forth between the boy and the top of the brightly decorated tree. He grimaced, imagining the boy throwing themselves from the upper branches like they had done only moments before onto his knee.

What was with this kid and being so reckless?!

“You jumped from the top of the Christmas tree!? Why were you even there in the first place?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, crossing their arms in front of their chest.

“It’s all that stupid Beans fault.”He huffed annoyed. “He just came waltzing into MY forest, decided to be very rude and put their grubby hands all over MY house wrapping it up in some ugly net, only to cut it down with me still in it!”

Tommy didn’t notice the way Santa’s brows furrowed and their expression changed to one of horror as he continued to ramble on.

“They literally kidnapped me, Santa! They’re so lucky that the main part of my house is under the tree’s trunk and not the higher branches because I swear I would have murdered that Bean in their sleep by now if they had!”

Tommy was very pleased to have finally gotten to vent some of his frustrations to someone other than his internal self, but now he was finished he had a good chance to register the other’s reaction.

Santa looked horrified.

His eyes seemed glossed over as if he was holding back tears, and one hand slapped over their mouth, the other gripping their wrist tightly in an attempt to ground themselves.

Uh shit. He hadn’t meant for that to happen…

“Uh but don’t worry Santa!” Tommy was quick to add. “ I wouldn’t actually do that. That would be a bad thing to do and put me on the Naughty list! I promise I won’t actually murder anyone!”

Phew, that was a close one. He couldn’t jeopardise his only hope with a silly joke!

Santas’ face had yet to change and Tommy subconsciously started to fidget feeling nervous to how the older was reacting. Maybe he had blown it and now he was on the naughty list. Another glance at the old man's face seemed to confirm those fears.

He’d blown it.

His one shot at survival and he practically threw it all away with a vent. No wonder he ended up all alone.

“Please don’t put me on the Naughty list Santa. I need my gift.” Tommy spoke timidly. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I- no. No you’re not on the Naughty list.” Santa dragged his hands over his eyes a few times strained. “I'm just trying to process. It’s more of the whole kidnapping thing. ”

If Tommy had been paying better attention, he may have noticed the few stray brown curls poking out from under the man's hat, but he was more thrown by their following question as the magical man continued on.

“If you were in the tree, why didn’t you say anything?”

Tommy drew a deep breath, before sighing as the boy shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Because Santa, Beans aren’t supposed to know that Borrowers like me even exist.”

“Beans?”

“Human Beans Santa. You know, big people like you, but not magical and stuff.” The Borrower explained. “There’s no way I could tell the dumb Bean he was cutting my house down! Do you know what Beans do to Borrowers like me?”

“Um no?” Santa fiddled with his hands as he looked away, eyes downcast to avoid the youngers gaze as they continued.

“They get rid of us. To them we’re just pests or things to be used.”

Tommy hugged himself tightly, anxiety pooling in his chest for the first time that night. He wished it wasn’t true, but Beans just held far too much power for their own good. Their greed often outweighing their need to do good without reward.

“I’d rather risk jumping out of a tree than ever fall into the clutches of a Bean.”

“But how do you know that?” Santa suddenly said, muscles tensing as they clenched their hand into fists.

Tommy flinched at the sight of hands so close. Closed so tightly that he couldn’t help let slip the thought of himself in the mercy of their grasp, begging to be freed like all the stories had said of the Borrowers trapped in agonising pain. The man noticed his discomfort, and immediately loosened their fists, moving their hands away and under their thighs so as to not startle the boy any further than they already had.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Santa said with a sense of guilt. “But I just- How do you know that though? Who says that they would have hurt you if you had just made your presence known? You wouldn’t have had to jump or gotten hurt.”

Santa turned away sheepishly, whispering sadly. “They could have helped you.”

Tommy swallowed hard, his shoulders sagging as he observed the sad look Santa had as they stared at the Christmas tree. It was obvious they were blaming themself for what had happened. He was far too kind for that.

“Santa, it’s not your fault.” the boy sighed, “Every borrower is taught this from birth. It’s a known fact that Beans are all cruel, power hungry beings. They always want more and just take, take, take.”

“But what if this ‘Bean’ didn’t know.” Santa shot back, causing the Borrower to falter. “What if you had said something? They would have stopped and left you and your house alone? How do you know they wouldn’t have helped you?”

“Because Santa,” Tommy turned and faced the man head on. “That’s just how Beans are. To them, we're just another thing to take and control.”

Tommy wanted to believe Santa, he really did, but it was hard to just ignore years of being brought up to beware Human Beans and their cruelty. He’d seen it even from when Beans had once come into the forest with their fire sticks, and took down a friendly deer. It was unnecessarily cruel and was all the convincing Tommy needed to deem all Humans bad.

Santa nodded sadly in some kind of understanding, but Tommy couldn’t understand why Santa looked so hurt. It wasn’t his fault the Bean took him and his home, but he seemed so convinced that hiding and not asking for help had been the wrong thing to do.

He thought they were the same, that if Beans caught him on Christmas Eve, then something bad would happen to him like it would for Borrowers. That’s why they had to stay a secret. Why no one could know they were here.

But Santa wasn’t a Borrower who lived in hiding unknown. The Beans knew about the jolly, present giving man that only appeared in December.

He could live among the Beans and it would be fine if he asked for help. Everyone liked Santa. He didn’t take things just to survive. He gave toys and gifts so he would have no worries about the repercussions of taking a paperclip just to get around. He wouldn’t have to worry about Beans hurting him if something went wrong. He would just use his magic and be fine.

It was Santa’s choice to stay hidden as an extra precaution to protect that same magic.

“But you’re different from the Beans Santa.” The boy perked up instantly remembering why he was doing this in the first place. “You only come out of hiding at Christmas and everyone knows who you are! You only hide to keep your magic safe from Beans so they can’t have that too!”

The man gave a small smile as the boy continued to ramble, pacing back and forth on his thigh as he did so.

“But I don’t understand why you give children presents when they already have so much!” Tommy stopped, his lips pursed together as his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Unlike me.” He confessed quietly, lifting his head to meet Santa’s sympathetic gaze.

Santa was staring at the young boy again, leaned forward in concern listening as the blonde continued to share his story.

“It's why I need my gift Santa.” Tommy wringed his hands together with a nervous glance to see Santa’s reaction who nodded in approval, gesturing for him to continue.

Tommy steadied himself.

Now or never.

“I was brought here with basically nothing. Forced to move into the Beans walls or risk being seen. I’ve barely been able to get anything for basic survival and the walls are freezing!”

Tommy shivered remembering the way the air had nipped at his nose as he struggled to keep warm. Clutching himself tightly in a poor attempt to retain any kind of body heat. The one time he went up stairs without his coat and of course he gets kidnapped.

He needed this.

More than anything.

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Wilbur had just wanted to have the perfect Christmas.

It was his first time hosting and had decided he HAD to go all out.

More decorations than his little house needed both inside and out, homemade hot chocolate from scratch and had promised his Father and brother a very special Christmas surprise if they let him host.

Their first ever living Christmas tree and a surprise visit from the Big man himself- Santa Claus.

He’d done a bunch or research into the best spots to go where he could get a tree and quickly had been recommended from several sites about the fir trees in Logstedshire, and quickly made the trip out to find a tree.

What the websites failed to mention, was that said fir trees might be inhabited and the home of tiny people that are terrified of Human Beings.

So if you asked: No, Wilbur was not having a good night realising he had kidnapped a child that was deathly afraid of him and only okay right now because he thought he was the real Santa Claus.

In a way, it was a good thing the kid hadn’t realised yet, because if Wilbur had never dressed up in this silly costume, he probably would have never known about the child freezing to death in his walls.

The child was so cold despite their lively spirit when he’d caught them after they launched themself off the top of the shelf. The fact it wasn’t the first time they’d thrown themself from such a height made Wilbur sick knowing had they not been lucky, could very well not have made the long fall. But the fact the kid had been struggling, terrified and afraid in his walls when he could have helped had the guilt eating him away as the boy rambled on.

They were so sure of themselves with the cruelty of humanity too that they had him so on edge. If the blonde knew he was really the guy that had cut his tree down, he very much doubted they would be this enthusiastic. He was talking about how much he needed his gift- the gift he still had no clue what it was, but just hearing the little blondes tale, and seeing how thin his clothes were had Wilbur making a very long list of things he needed to get to help the kid out.

A kid which he still doesn’t know the name of.

The boy's eyes had brightened, as he bounded up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly, talking about what this gift would mean for him. He was actually quite endearing despite their seemingly dire situation.

“If I tell you my gift, then you can give it to me now and I’ll actually have a chance to survive the Winter!” He explained excitedly, grining.

Wilbur pushed down his anxiousness for the boys well-being. They had already suffered enough from his mistakes. He didn’t want them to suffer any longer than they had by them accidentally discovering the truth.

“What’s your name kid?” Wilbur mentally slapped himself that he hadn’t asked sooner.

The tiny boy chuckled to himself as they crossed their arms. “Oh come on Santa, you know my name don’t you? You have a list with every child's name on it.”

Ah- right. Santa did have that Naughty and Nice list didn’t he? Curse Santa for having to live up to magical standards.

“Uh- I came here in such a rush, I um- ah must have left my list back at the North Pole.”

“So?” The boy argued, raising a brow. “You’re magic. Don’t you just know?”

Did he say endearing earlier? How about difficult for making him use his brain at 9pm at night. (Shut up. Don’t judge him for it)

“Well you know there’s like 2 Billion kids in this world and I see them all in one night. You don’t expect me to remember every name without my list do you?”

The kid hadn’t seemed to account for this, and thought it over before shrugging in agreement.

Oh thank goodness for kids being young and naive.

“I guess that’s fair. But you’ve got a s*** memory in that case Big Man. Getting old.”

Actually, make that an annoying gremlin.

“I think if someone wants their present, they should be more careful about insulting their elders.” Wilbur teased with a chuckle. The boy rolled his eyes with a groan.

Okay, an endearing gremlin then.

“Fiiiiiiiiine.” they drawled letting their arms drop to their sides before extending their hand up in greeting. “The name’s Tommy.”

Wilbur carefully lifted his arm up and slowly extended his pinky finger out for the boy to take in an oversized handshake.

“Nice to meet you Tommy.” His finger dwarfed the boy entirely, his pinky finger only slightly shorter than the boy's total height, but nevertheless, Tommy took the tip and shook it lightly.

“Now, why don’t you sit down and tell me what it is you’d like for Christmas?”

Wilbur couldn’t help but smile at the little boy excitedly sharing in exact detail what he wanted. What the Borrower wanted wasn’t even that difficult to get, and he knew exactly where to find it. Tommy continued to ramble on for a bit longer about what he had been doing since coming here and Wilbur made mental notes of the few places where Tommy talked about entrances in out of the walls for future reference.

He was going to have to look out for Tommy from now on and if he wanted a shred of hope in getting him to trust him as Wilbur, he was going to need a plan.

“So could I have my gift now? I would really love it now and you still have a lot of other houses to visit tonight right?” Tommy asked innocently.

Wilbur really didn’t want to stop talking to Tommy. Tommy trusted the magical Santa Claus; not regular Human Being Wilbur Soot. He knew that if he let Tommy go now, it was unlikely he would see the kid again, but if he didn’t leave as Santa now, they would most likely get suspicious, realising he was a fake and panic.

Wilbur sighed as he brushed a stray hair of fake beard from under his cheek.

“I- yeah I guess so. Best get you to bed then too.”

“Awwww but I’m not sleepy yet!” The blonde pouted. “This is normally when I’m awake so it would be a crime to make me sleep now.”

“Well good little girls and boys go to bed when they’re told if they want to stay on the nice list.”

“You’re not the boss of me!” Tommy stuck his tongue out in defiance and Wilbur had to bite his to stop himself from bursting out loud laughing.

This kid was going to be the death of him he swears.

Wilbur extended his hand to the Borrower, keeping it steady as he waited for Tommy to climb on. He’s still a little huffy at first realising there was no room for argument, but climbs on anyway, sitting down in the middle of Wilbur’s palm bracing themself before he moves.

The brunette curls his fingers over the boy slightly, bringing his hand to his chest protectively. He tries not to linger too long at how it felt to hold an entire person in one hand for the second time tonight before moving to stand.

Steadily, Wilbur makes his way over to the book shelf and cautiously raises his hand up for Tommy to climb off of. He sets his hand down on the wooden surface and Tommy takes no time in hoping off to stand, waiting expectantly for his promised present.

“Okay I need you to close your eyes just for a second.” Wilbur asks the boy who quickly covers his eyes with his hands, only to peak out from behind his fingers seconds later.

“I mean it Tommy. Keep them closed.”

“Ugggghhhhh Fineee!” the boy said huffing, but relented nevertheless.

Wilbur quickly whirled around and crouched down beneath the Christmas tree, snagging a gift from the floor and hastily tearing the gift tag labelled- Technoblade; from the gift before setting it next to the small borrower child.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

Tommy removed his hands and squealed in delight, quickly reaching down to hug the gift.

“Oh thank you Santa! You really are the most poggers man ever!!!” Tommy spoke rapidly, smiling so much his cheeks hurt. “Well after me of course, but only by a little bit!”

Wilbur chuckled as he gazed affectionately at the blonde hunched over the brightly wrapped gift. “You’re welcome Tommy. I’m glad you like it.”

The boy quickly stood, and started hauling the gift to the crack in the wall, as they tried to shove the gift through. Unfortunately while the crack had been enough for Tommy to squeeze through, it wasn’t quite wide enough to let the present go in without getting a tad scrunched up and paper torn.

“Um, Tommy? Is there perhaps a bigger entrance I could take this too?” Wilbur suggested, cringing slightly as the boy gave another hard shove on the gift, intent on getting it through no matter what.

“It’ll fit. Just gotta keep pushing it in.”

After a few more attempts, the boy did in fact give up and relented their efforts allowing Wilbur to pull the now crumpled present back out from the crack, instructing him to take it to the kitchen and place it behind the toaster, assuring him he would get it before the Bean woke up explaining how the electrical socket actually came off as a secret entrance.

He offered to take Tommy over to it too, but the stubborn boy refused, insisting that he had done enough and needed to hurry up and deliver presents to the other children before the night was over.

Taking one more long look at the boy, Wilbur watched as Tommy disappeared through the crack into the walls, the sound of tiny footsteps pitter pattering away before Wilbur himself quietly crept back to his room before he removed the Santa costume and flopped down onto his bed.

He’d just met a tiny child.

A tiny child trying to survive in his walls.

That was deathly afraid of him.

Quickly Wilbur shot up from his bed snatching his phone from the night stand; a plan forming in his mind. The screen read 9:31 pm before he hastily unlocked it and dove into his contacts, quickly stopping on a profile of a girl with light pink hair, dialling their number shortly after.

The phone rang twice before a woman answered on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Niki? Hey! How’s the holidays going?” Wilbur asked as he grabbed his coat and gloves from the wardrobe.

“So I need a favour…”

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.

Tommy awoke warm for the first time that week.

He opened his eyes blearily, almost willing himself to fall back into dream land before his eyes snapped fully open. Tommy rubbed his eyes a few times, eyes going wide trying to comprehend that this was real and not just a dream as the thoughts of the previous night played through his head.

He was in his Christmas present: A brand new pair of bright red, fluffy woollen socks- the most perfect bed ever and exactly what Tommy had asked for. He had basically run to get his gift as fast as possible, before hauling it back through the walls to a space close by the bookshelf; the space seemingly much more homely after last night's introductions.

He hugged the woollen fabric tightly, smiling as he remembered the soft smile Santa had as he watched him go and how kind and gentle he had been with him the entire time.

The Borrower was so pleased and grateful that he had been able to meet the Santa Claus, and would cherish the magical night forever.

He stayed snuggled in his new bed for a little while longer before his stomach grumbled in protest that he should go and have something to eat. Albeit a little grumbly, his hunger eventually won out and Tommy made his way through the walls back to the kitchen so he could gather some food before the Bean woke up.

Stealthily, he removed the electrical socket, expecting to make it a quick supply run; stepping out into the open before freezing in surprise.

Laid out in a neat pile behind the toaster was a small stack of brightly wrapped gifts all wrapped in different coloured and patterned paper, and right in the middle, an envelope with his name written in gold cursive. Tommy smiled brightly, as he eagerly ran forward to the awaiting stack of gifts, quickly grabbing a gift reading the label.

To: Tommy From: Santa

Tommy denies that he cried that day.

That he took each gift home and opened each one oh so delicately, afraid if he didn’t they might just disappear, happy tears trailing down his cheek as he opened a gift revealing a beautiful, blue knitted sweater- and in just his size.

His tears didn’t cease as he opened the other gifts revealing several new pairs of warm winter clothes, new rope and hooks for climbing, some tea candles with a tiny piece of flint and steel to light them, and the tiniest iced cookies he had ever seen. He could actually hold this in one hand like humans did and he had a whole bag of them!!! His prayers had been answered and he couldn’t be more thankful.

Soon, the only thing that remained was the envelope.

He dried his face as best he could, doing his best to not smear any tears or snot onto the pristine surface as he opened the envelope, revealing a card with a picture of glitter candy canes decorating the front.

Settled back into his new bed, Tommy opened the card and read the message inside.

Dear Tommy, It was lovely meeting you and getting to know your story. I figured you might like some extra gifts as well to help you be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls. I think you should try talking to him. You might be surprised. Sincerely, Santa Claus

P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.

Tommy’s smile became puzzled as he reread the last few lines.

Who the heck was Wilbur?

Was that the name of the Bean that lived here?

Oh come on, that's not fair! How come Santa knew Wilbur’s name but not his!

He grumbled a little bit at the thought, but his mind kept drawing back to the last line of the card.

‘He’s not as scary as you think.’

“Hmpf, you keep saying that.” Tommy grumbled.

What was with Santa’s insistence on this?

As much as he wanted to be annoyed at Santa for putting forward such a ridiculous idea, Tommy decided to drag himself out of bed and to the book shelf crack. The Bean had gotten up not long after Tommy had made it back to his new home, but he’d been a tad too distracted to really care about how slow and heavy they had been trudging about this morning unlike their usually poised self.

Currently, said Bean was sitting on the couch, the exact same spot he and Santa had been last night, absentmindedly staring at his hand.

How could Santa think this guy was any good? They had kidnapped him unknowingly, almost let him die from hypothermia unknowingly, destroyed the top of his home unknowingly and Santa still thinks they won’t hurt him?

Okay so maybe it wasn’t their fault all those things happened just because they didn’t know he was there, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still very capable of hurting him for having to do all those things. But then again, Santa knew who was naughty or nice. And he wouldn’t ask him to do something that would endanger his safety if this ‘Wilbur’ guy wasn’t a good person right?

Tommy observed the Bean a little longer, as they ran their thumb over their palm. Their normally neat curly hair was all over the place and he could have sworn there were black bags under their eyes from lack of sleep. They suddenly turned their head and were staring straight at his crack by the book shelf. The Borrower was certain they couldn’t see him from the couch, but ducked back just slightly in case.

The Bean simply sighed as a small smile graced their features. Tommy was right about the black bags. Bean did not look like they had slept at all.

He thought back to what Santa had said.

I think you should try talking to him.

They certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Maybe they really weren’t bad like the Jolly man said?

But was it really worth taking the risk and talking to this guy?

Before he could dwell on it for much longer, the door bell sounded and Wilbur snapped his head to the sound before standing and stretching; their limbs popping and cracking slightly from their limited use. Before he left the living room, the man stopped and stared at his crack once more. Tommy didn’t dare breathe as they simply smiled and shook their head, before exiting and headed towards the front door.

Tommy allowed himself to exhale as the sound of footsteps got further away.

“Weirdo.” Tommy muttered to himself as he pushed himself back from the crack and began to head back to his bed for a well deserved rest.

He’d think about what Santa said, and just maybe he’d talk to this- Wilbur. If not, he hoped he'd meet Santa again so he could thank them in person.

Once he was back in his bed, Tommy quickly slipped in snuggling down, allowing himself to drift off to the chatter of beings much larger than himself from beyond the walls.

“Wil! So good to see you! It’s been ages!”

“Hi Dad, thanks for letting me host. I’m so glad you and Techno could make it!

“So are we, but you look like shit mate. Up late again? Wouldn't be related to that surprise you were telling us about?”

“You could say that…”

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.

Tommy never did meet Santa Claus again.

The card proudly on display in his new home, a secret hope he would one day and a constant reminder of what Santa had asked him to try.

And maybe one day, Tommy would finally take up the old man's advice and go and speak to Wilbur, and discover perhaps they may have been right.

Maybe then he’d finally have a friend to keep him warm during the holiday seasons and to rely on like he had wished.

One that seemed to always know just what he needed despite never telling them, and was very insistent about never wearing Santa costumes.

No matter how many times a little boy begged….

˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗ ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻ ˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗

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

That was a lot of words....

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING TO THE END! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it and it means a lot you read all the way through <3

Tag List: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10

And cue rant: Honestly you guys have no idea just how much you all mean to me an in this community and the impact you've had on me in the last year alone. I could not be more thankful for being apart of this and getting to know you guys. Getting so back into writing has been really good for me and rekindled something I love so I can't thank you enough.

And even though I know I've been a little quieter online, I'm still here lurking about and working on projects. A lot has happened in the last few months alone and I'm quite happy that I'm limiting myself to be a bit more healthier with my online habits.

Anyways thanks so much if you read this far!

Thanks to my Beta readers @a-xyz-s squishy and munchkin for reading this for me, and I wish you all a very safe and wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

-Beckyu ❤️

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