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totally-not-a-tickle-blog · 3 months

Note

If you’re open to fic prompts: maybe Angel finding out Husk is ticklish when he helps him preen his wings? Currently on HuskerDust brain rot :’)

A/N: It's been a long time since I've written anything like a fic so I'm sorry if it come out bad 💔💔

HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

PS: Reblogs and comments motivate writers; not forcing but just in case you're willing to support us :] /gen

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"Not that ticklish"

Ler!AngelDust, Lee!Husk

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive jokes, Huskerdust

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Husk had a thing for his demon body and he's 100% aware of that. He ignored it as much as possible, trying to live like if he's still fully human with just a few changes, but with time he realized that perhaps... it was inevitable. At some point he had to do things that people weren't supposed to do, such as brush his fur or take care of his wings.

However, nowadays at the hotel, Husk avoided doing any of those since he's not alone like he used to be. The guy REALLY refused to be caught doing any of those embarassing things (they are for him atleast), and with people like Angel Dust in this place, he would not be left alone. Not like peace was an option at the first place, but it would get worse.

One week with doing basic hygiene only. Brushing his teeth, taking baths, brushing the top of his head, maybe cleaning his ears too. Nothing else.

At some point the consequences would come, and for his unluck, his fur was the first of them. Just using his hand wasn't really enough to keep it in place; the obvious consequence, yet a big defeat for Husk. Well, if one humiliation was about to come, doing the rest wouldn't really change anything.

"Whiskers~" Angel Dust called, approaching the counter without even looking as he sits. "Can you give some attention for the little me while everyone is busy?" But, as he opened his eyes, nobody was there.

"Oh, that's new." The spider spoke to himself, letting out a sigh of disappointment as he get off his seat.

His smirk disappeared, finally relaxing his face and revealing the honest expression of his: tiredness. Everything that Angel wanted right now was to distract himself, so the sigh had way more than disappointment.

...but his sadness did not last.

"FUCKING BULLSHIT!"

Was the only thing he heard from upstairs, immediately recognizing the cat's voice. Angel would be lying if he said it didn't worry him, which was the same reason why he walked after Husk right away.

And also the reason why there was no knocks before a giant spider basically kicked the door open.

It made Husk jump right away, almost falling on his feet. "What the... what the hell? What was that for?!"

Aaand literally nothing is happening. A bit disappointing, but at the same time relieving.

Maybe nobody died, but something was different. Angel looked at him up and down with a raised eyebrow, silent.

One of Husk's wings was open, it seemed cleaner than the other and a few feathers were on the floor.

An awkward silence dominated the room for some good seconds until Angel finally interrupted it.

"You clean your wings??"

Husk pinched his nose almost instantely. "Preen." He replied with a frown, closing his wing once again.

"Yeah, yeah, whateva'. That's kinda adorable if you ask me..."

"Good thing I didn't. You leaving now?"

Angel closing the door was everything he needed to do as an answer, approaching Husk's bed with a smirk.

"C'mon, lemme help!"

It made Husk's eyes open a little more, creating some more inches of distance between them. "No way."

"And why not? It's not like you can do it all by yourself!" The raise of an eyebrow with a bored face was the answer he got; ignored completely, of course. "Ya' know I ain't leaving anyway."

He does know, he's just sure. This stubborn spider is one to talk about when it comes to not giving up over Husk.

"Mess up one single feather and I'm kicking you out. Permanently." He says, pointing at Angel directly in the face with a sharpened gaze. The other simply nodded, wearing a big playful grin. "Understood, Husky!"

As much it was nice to have some help, it also means teaching Angel how to take care of them, and he's for sure not the best example of a teacher. This, mixed with Angel's lack of knowledge about birds overall, really didn't help.

"—And then you pull it slowly." Husk finished, watching Angel do exactly what he was told to do. Despite anything, the guy seems to be actually trying. "Yeah, like that... uh, kind of. You don't need to take a whole day to do that."

"I'm just being careful, babe! Besides, I'm not gonna risk being banned from your room~"

Husk rolled his eyes. "Just go faster." As he couldn't lose the chance, Angel raised his eyebrows in a mocking yet flirtatious way before finally returning to what he was doing. I mean, he asked for that one!

Angel indeed began to take care of the wing faster, but it also meant making his fingers a bit less quiet too. It began to turn into a problem as soon as he used them to search for anything dirty, scratching lightly. Husk's unintentional movements got Angel's eyes.

'Does it hurt? No, I don't think he wouldn't complain if it did... huh. That's weird.' He thinks to himself, resting his hand there for a moment.

"What got ya' to be moving so much, Husky?" Asked, hiding his slight concern but not his curiosity.

"Nothing, it just... tickles. A little." Answered, a little embarassed but still honest. For some reason it was quite interesting... and cute. Won't lie.

"Didn't knew that wings could be ticklish. Or just... you."

"What do you mean?"

Angel chuckled at the question. "It's just surprising that our grumpy, annoyed and sexy bartender would be so ticklish!" Husk gave him a bad stare, afraid that he was being mocked; even tho it wasn't exactly the case.

"Now you're just making up things, I'm not that ticklish."

"Ohoho, really? Then how could you be all squirmy with only a few touches?"

"It's a... uh..." He looked around, trying to find a good excuse. "...wings, thing. You don't get it, you don't have 'em."

An awful excuse, and to be honest, not even if it was the perfect one it would trick Angel.

"If that's the case then lemme test it in another spot."

Not even ten seconds in, and Angel was already wiggling his fingers in the air, his huge grin expressing a 'dangerous' excitement over the situation.

"Don't you fucking dare..."

A pause between the two. Almost a staring contest by how intense they were looking at each other.

"...GOTCHA'!"

With the war cry yelled out, he jumped towards Husk, who would be able to escape if it wasn't for Angel's additional arms. Goddammit.

Husk tried to get something off his mouth, but literally nothing, not a single sentence was able to form. Just a bunch of gibberish, which entertained the spider quite a lot. However, he wasn't there just for the teasing.

The messed words were cut with a gasp as he felt fingers moving on his sides, already squirming to get out as a body's response. The cat-demon tried to resist, but failed miserably as his giggles dominated completely.

"Fuhuhuck- get off!"

"Hmm... I'll think about it, Whiskers." His fingers, despite fast, did not seem to put that much pressure over Husk's skin. "Just gimme a moment, okay?"

Angel used his free arms to put a hand over his chin, looking up playfully as if actually reflecting on his answer.

"F-FahahaHAHahah! That- that mohoment already passehehed!"

"Hey, you broke my line of thought! Now I gotta start it all over! Huh, what was the question again?"

Husk tried putting on a serious face, only for it to break instantely. "Du-Dumbahahahass!"

"That's not a question." Replied, keeping his teasy remarks in day.

It felt indeed a bit humiliating to be in a position like this, being tickled by the same guy who drives you nuts almot everyday. Unable to do pretty much anything but giggle, and squirm, and... just... not think about anything.

This isn't as bad as it looked like. Right, still embarassing, but not exactly the uncomfortable type of embarassing. It's such a mix of emotions, and at the same time he got nothing on his mind, his head was filled with this type of thing.

And once again, his own body betrayed him. As time passes, a soft purr can be heard between his laughter, not really under his control.

Angel raised his eyebrow almost right away.

"I can hear it..."

"You cahahan't! Shut uhuhup!"

"Pfft- not really using your brain now, are ya'?" He added, tilting his head and moving his hands to Husk's ribs now. "Not like you really caaaan~"

"S-SHIHIHIT!"

The volume of Husk's noises increasing got him startled for a moment, but it quickly went away as he saw some wings flapping lightly.

"C-CA- HAHEHEH- HOW ARE YOHOU DOING THAHAHAT?! STOHOHOP!"

"Me? I'm just really good with my fingers... and you're like, really ticklish. Duh."

Sadly, the fun would come to an end, as the lee's breath was already giving up on him along with the stamina. Now, pushing once more, he put actual effort on it, almost making Angel get thrown off the bed.

"OKAY, OKAHAY, ENOUGH! ENOHOUGH!!"

The energetic fingers finally lost its pace, giving his poor body full of fur some peace. Okay, maybe a last poke only for the tease, but then that's it.

"He-Hey!"

"Oopsie!~" He let out, along with a silly wink. "Sooo? Still not 'that ticklish'? Cuz I don't think I don't got sides and ribs..."

Husk couldn't help but chuckle. "You digged your own grave. Hope you know that, dickhead."

Angel Dust's teasy smile softened, blinking once before leaning back.

"Yeah, I do."

He really hoped they would continue with whatever they began.

#tickling #tickle #tickle community #tickle fanfic #tickle fic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel husker #huskerdust #angel dust x husk #husk x angel dust #lee!husk #ler!angeldust

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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months

Text

Love Ridden

Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: moving sucks, especially when you don't know anyone and you don't have any friends. one day a black cat comes and keeps you company, maybe he won't be the only friend you make.

warnings: pure fluff. neighbor!eddie. pronouns aren't used, reader's body/ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. reader and eddie are both in their twenties. swearing. slight angst: mentions of loneliness. I'm an 18+ blog, minors please go away. not proofread, shitty writing and grammar errors.

*if i miss anything lmk know!

a/n: day three of my birthday week!!! you guys have been so lovely, i love you all so much!! i hope you guys have been enjoying this week as much as i have!! I'm so sorry for the late upload, life has been pretty busy this week!

I guess I wouldn’t mind to fall in love a little bit.

Ouch, I think I feel a little more.

Stepping out onto the small porch, you're met the chill of the morning air, your nose and cheeks being victim to the cold nip of the wind. The watercolor gray sky hides the sun behinds it's endless clouds. Birds chirp a song in the empty trees before they flap their wings, taking off in flight.

It's peaceful here, quieter than the city life than you were so used to. Out here in Forrest Hills you didn't have to worry about honking cars or the chatter of drunk college students walking home from the bar at odd hours of the night. Out here in the middle of nowhere, you had yourself and the company of strangers you had yet to meet.

Only being here for two weeks, you haven't been able to meet the other people that occupy the surrounding trailers. For now they're only nameless faces, people who go to work and mind their business. Sometimes, like today, you like to sit on the front steps of your porch, drinking a piping hot cup of coffee, and just watch them as they go about their day.

You like to imagine what they do for living, what their names are, and what their story is. This has become your entertainment, the highlight of your day before you go back inside all by yourself. It's scary moving to a new place, meeting new people, and trying to make friends. As of right now, your only friend is the lady at the supermarket, Suze. Besides the people watching, hearing Suze say "Have a good day, dear" have become the highlight of your life.

It's not that you don't want to be social, you just don't know where to start. You're awkward, even back home it was hard to find the right social circle. So the safety of your trailer, the comfort of your four walls, and your once a week interaction with Suze the cashier was enough for you.

Lifting your Snoopy mug to your lips, you let the warm liquid coat your throat and fill you with warmth that the fall air seems to lack. The small gravel path lays still, everyone seemingly already off to work or school. Since you missed your morning entertainment, you stick to keeping your eyes on the sky and letting the comforting silence fall around you.

Meow.

You don't move your gaze, rather shutting your eyes and letting the small breeze move past you.

Meow.

Cracking an eye open, you gaze around the small area of the road in hopes of finding the animal making noise, hoping you're not going stir crazy with your lack of human interaction.

Meow.

You're neck snaps back and forth, trying to look around the general area for whatever kitty that is trying to communicate with you. It's high grass on the one side and an empty dirt path on the other, no sign of life in sight. Yup, you've seemingly have lost all of your marbles.

Meow.

The feeling of something brushing your leg startles you, but not enough to scare the chubby black cat, who purrs against your plaid pj bottoms, away. When it turns it's green eyes to you, it meows once more.

"Hi little guy," You coo softly at the animal, placing a hand out tentatively for it to sniff, "whatcha doin' out here in the cold?"

Leaning it's hand onto the tips of your fingers, you get the hint and start scratching lightly on it's head.

"Aren't you cold out here, honey?" You question and it only responds by lifting its chin. You oblige and rub along it's next causing the cat's eyes to close in enjoyment.

"You were just talkin' earlier, now you don't want to, huh? Not when you're gettin' all this love." Your voice is baby like, lips perched just a bit as you move your fingers to the tips of it's ears.

Quickly the cat moves away from your touch and looks at you wide eyed and curious like. Not wanting to scare it away just yet, you lightly tap your lap, beckoning it to move closer to you.

Surprisingly the cat listens, trotting up the two steps and curls itself into you. The purrs that carry through it's body settles into you and brings you a kind of warmth no hot temperature could ever do.

With the chunky fur ball nestled on your thighs you feel wanted, excepted for the first time since you moved here. The loneliness that you've felt, encaged into the tin walls of your trailer, suddenly evaporates with the simple presence of the animal.

"Do you have a name, little guy?" Speaking softly to the comfy cat, you hesitantly run a finger along it's neck in search for a collar.

With no collar or any sort of tag to tell you the cat is someone else's, you begin to check for other things without disturbing it. The black fur is soft in your fingers and lacks any sort of dirt buildup, no signs of fleas, and the fact that it seems like it's well fed point to it being a house cat.

Checking your surroundings, you try to see if anyone is out looking for their lost animal. No other porch in eyeshot is occupied, only the empty street and the quiet noise of bare trees rustling.

"Well, you don't seem to belong to anyone," It's as soft as the wind that flows through the grass, "You can live with me. Would you like that?"

Meow.

The cat nudges it's head further into the plush of your thighs and you take that as your answer. "Yeah, I'd like that too. How do you feel about the name Ozzy?"

The question doesn't seem to spark any sort of reaction from the cat, still cuddled up against you and purring in satisfaction.

"Okay then, Ozzy, do you wanna come in and have a treat?" Your finger continues to brush through the short hair of the cat, raking over the spots it can't reach on it's own.

Letting Ozzy lay on you for a moment more, you go to pick up your coffee mug hoping that the brown liquid inside is still somewhat warm. With the slightest move of your arm, Ozzy wakes up and stretches.

Before you can offer the warmth of your trailer, Ozzy is off of you lap and trotting down the steps. It's desperate and selfish but you're not about to lose your first friend, so you follow after it in the hopes you can scoop it up and take it home.

"Ozzy, come on don't you want some tuna?" Even with the promise of an appetizing bowl of breakfast, the cat continues to make it's way across the dirt path street.

When Ozzy makes it to the trailer cat corner to yours, it trots up the steps and settles on the small porch. Blinking slowly at you, it continues to stare at you and your efforts of trying to capture it without trespassing.

"Come on Ozzy, I'll take you home and you can eat. Maybe later we can take a trip to the store for some toys! What do you say, Oz?" As you stretch your arm out to the animal, a gruff voice stops you in your tracks.

"May I ask why you're trying to kidnap my cat?" Trailing your eyes to the side porch, you take in the shape of the person sitting on the couch.

Covered by the shadow of the awning, you can't really make out the stranger. You've been caught red handed, mouth agape and wide eyed with your arm still frozen in it's outstretched position.

"I-I, um I wasn't trying to kidnap your cat. I just, he came up-"

"It's a she and her name is pumpkin." The gruff voice cuts you off, semi annoyed and frustrated.

"Sorry, I didn't know." Like a child who's been reprimanded, you pull your arm back to it's place, lacing your fingers together in front of you where they twiddled in anxiety.

"I know, I was just fucking with you." The shadow figure stands from it's sitting position and walks over to you, jumping down the small ledge of the side porch.

As he stalks over to you, you drink up his features. In sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a too small of a hoodie that reads "Hawkins High Phys Ed.", he looks pretty. Wild brown curls blow lightly in the wind, lips puffy, and eyes so brown it feels like you're drowning in chocolate.

Standing toe to toe, you realize just how much taller he is than you. Slim and fit is the best way you can describe it, and boy is he breathtaking. His scent picks up with the breeze, swirling around you and making it's way into your nose were it lingers. Coffee, smoke, and laundry soap.

"I'm assuming you're the new neighbor down in trailer 48." It's not really a question rather a statement when he says it.

Nodding your head slightly, you gaze up at him still in awe. "Yeah, that would ugh, that would be me." Trying to cover up your nerves you throw him a tight lipped smile.

Nodding his own head, he slips his hands into the pouch of his hoodie. "Well, I'm Eddie and you already seem to have met pumpkin."

"Nice to meet you Eddie," Unlocking your still laced fingers, you throw him a small wave, even though he's right in front of you and tell him your name.

"Well it's lovely to meet you." His smile is just as pretty as the rest of him, nice white teeth that shine brighter than any sunrise you've ever seen.

"I'm sorry about your cat," It comes out rather awkward and abrupt, "she came over to me and I didn't think she belonged to anyone, I swear. I- well honestly, she's kind of like my first friend here and I wasn't about to let her go that easy."

Shame burns within you, as well as embarrassment. The shame of trying to take someone else's cat and the embarrassment of admitting you have no friends. You want the ground to shallow you whole, hide so far in the ground the cute boy next door will forget all about you and your inability to act like a normal human.

"Hey, don't worry I was just messin'. Plus she's like my only friend too, so I totally get it." Whether he's lying or not doesn't matter to you, in fact you laugh along with him when he speaks.

"To be fair, they're kind of pretty," Still smiling, he focuses on Pumpkin who sits contently on the step waiting to go in.

"Yeah, she really is. Sweet too." You agree, also looking at the cat you befriended just moments before.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the cat," He says and you look back at him confused, "I mean she is definitely pretty, in fact she gets it from her dad. But I ugh, I was talking about you."

Pink paints the apples of his cheeks and you're certain that it's not from the bitter chill.

Your own stomach jumps and flips, butterflies tripling as his eyes burn into you.

"Oh." It's all you can muster, at least verbally, your face on the other hand tells him everything he needs to know.

Eyes shining and a smile threating to pull on your lips, even with the extra help that tries to hold it in place.

"Yeah." His own smile spreads bigger and you want to take a picture of it. You want to memorize every single detail of him so when you go back to your mundane four walls, you'll have something to feed your aching, lonely heart.

"Well if you want, I have a pot of coffee and a pack of Oreos back at my place. You and Ozzy, I mean Pumpkin are more than welcome." Looking up at him from under your lashes you see that his expression changed. Dimples and canines more prominent than before.

"Only on one condition." He says, crossing his hands over his chest and leaning towards you. "Do you have any cool mugs?"

"I have a cool Garfield mug." You shrug your shoulders.

Eddie ponders for a second like he's really taking the time to think it over. "I think, you have yourself a deal." Placing a hand in front of you, you clasp it in your own and shake it, letting the feeling of him sink into your skin.

Pulling his hand away from yours, he calls Pumpkin and pats his thigh. Getting up from her spot, she circles through his slipper covered feet. The two of you make your way back to your trailer, comfortable silence settling over the two of you.

"I do have one question." Looking over at Eddie, you raise your eyebrows telling him to continue. "Why Ozzy?"

Chuckling softly, you shrug your shoulders once again. "Well she's a black cat and she kind of reminds me of a bat. Bats just happen to remind me of Ozzy Osbourne, ya know cause the whole bat on stage thing."

You cut yourself off when you realize the boy next to you stopped dead in his tracks, along with the black cat.

"You know Ozzy?" He gasps, hand to his chest like you've just struck him with a sharp object.

"Who doesn't know Ozzy?" You scoff, eyebrows pinching together in bewilderment.

After what a long pause, Eddie stops clutching his chest and beams happily at you.

"Yeah, we're gonna be best friends." It's soft and sincere, hitting you right in the heart, lighting it with a million twinkling lights.

"Come on neighbor, I was promised Oreos." Picking his pace back up, he bops you on the nose with his finger before continuing his journey to your home.

Maybe Hawkins wasn't as lonely after all, you just needed to be patient.

Thank you all for reading! I love you guys <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female reader #honey's holiday celebrations #honey's birthday bash

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lightseoul · 1 year

Text

asymptōtos

synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort

word count. 5.8k words

The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.

In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.

And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.

Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.

Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.

You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.

In a very roundabout way, too:

Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.

Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.

Well, until now.

“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.

At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.

“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”

You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”

“Really?”

He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”

You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”

“Yeah–”

“I didn’t–”

He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”

You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.

Fuck.

You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.

You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.

A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.

Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.

“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.

How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.

He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.

Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.

You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.

“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.

“I like you, too.”

The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.

But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.

It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.

(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)

Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.

By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.

After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.

“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”

“Mom!”

Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.

Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.

“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”

“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”

You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”

“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”

You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.

“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”

Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.

Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”

You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”

He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.

The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”

You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.

“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”

Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.

“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”

Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”

This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.

“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”

“Well, I—”

He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.

Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…

“Who was that?” Your mother asks.

Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”

“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”

The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Please excuse me.”

With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.

“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.

“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”

“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.

You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.

“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”

You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”

He nods, “Of course.”

With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.

“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.

You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.

You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.

“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.

The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.

After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.

As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.

Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.

Today was no different.

You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.

You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.

Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.

It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:

Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.

Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.

He didn’t remember.

At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.

You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.

Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.

You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.

But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.

You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, you’re still awake.”

He seems stunned to see you.

“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”

You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.

“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.

You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”

He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.

Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.

Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.

And he looks absolutely guilty.

“Y/N, I am so sorry—”

You shake your head. That shuts him up.

“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”

He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.

You let him.

“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”

You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”

“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”

He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.

This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.

You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.

And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.

He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.

You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.

And make it up to you, he did.

The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.

He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).

And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.

Needless to say, you were over the moon.

But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.

Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.

The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.

It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.

“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.

You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”

And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.

“Eat,” he commands.

You happily indulge him.

Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”

He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.

“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.

He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”

You can’t believe your ears.

That’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”

He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.

“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”

He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.

“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”

Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”

“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”

What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”

He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”

You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”

At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”

You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.

“It starts next week.”

At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”

He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”

The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.

“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.

He huffs, “I know. But I—”

“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”

“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”

You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”

You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

“I know.”

At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.

You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.

You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.

Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.

You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.

You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.

Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.

You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.

Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”

Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”

“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”

She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”

She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.

“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”

She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”

You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.

“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”

You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.

“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.

And you do.

You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.

“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.

“I know.”

The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.

While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.

Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.

You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.

You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.

Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.

Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.

You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”

He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.

You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.

You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.

“Katsuki?” you squeak.

He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”

You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.

His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”

And you do.

You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.

You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.

For conversation. For intimacy.

For anything.

But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.

That was the fifth time it happened.

And the last.

“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”

You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.

You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.

“You seriously don’t remember this place?”

“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”

You snort, “That was yours.”

He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”

You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”

He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”

You roll your eyes, “Show off.”

He snickers, “Simp.”

You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…

“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”

You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.

Here goes nothing.

You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.

Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.

But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”

You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.

“This. Us.”

You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.

“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”

You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.

Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.

“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”

“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”

At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”

A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.

True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew, from the very beginning.

Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.

He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.

tagging. @katsukis1wife

extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #HSJAHSJAHSAJ i hope yall like this T____T #i wrote this in two days and significantly hurt myself in the process #i love and hate angst

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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year

Text

The Life You Build

Peter Parker x gn!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You first met Spider-Man, then you met Peter. OR Peter looks back on the photos that built your lives, the good and bad.

Word Count: ~5.1k

Warnings: Fluff. Awkwardness. Angst & Peter's anger (not at reader). Description of injuries.

A/n: I did a version of this for Eddie, so of course I had to do it for Peter :) He's a lovestruck idiot, and I love him. Thank you for reading <3 let me know your thoughts!

The first picture Peter had taken of you was by accident. He’d been trying to capture the opening of a newly renovated wing of the library near his apartment. Since crime had been a bit quieter lately, making Spider-Man’s activities quieter as well, Jameson had sent him on more menial jobs for The Daily Bugle.

He’d only seen you in the photos after the fact when editing them, finding you amongst the crowd with sunglasses resting on your head and a book in your hands, your smile wide with a happiness that permeated throughout the air.

The photos only caught part of your face, but he could see the excitement and wonder in your eyes, embarrassingly finding himself returning to them more than necessary. When documenting events for the paper, they often didn’t have such a happy ending — misused public resources, corrupt members in power, or something much more sinister and violent. Between that and his job of saving this city, he didn’t find as many calm or nice moments anymore, even forgetting about them altogether.

But here you were, unequivocally full of joy at something that should’ve had him smiling as well, if he weren’t so focused on taking pictures Jameson wouldn’t yell at him for. And so, he picked one of the photos in which you were off to the side alongside other joyful people and families looking at the ribbon cutting, and he put it right at the top of the story.

The next day at work, he found himself going to get coffee as usual, but maybe he’d had a lighter step to walk. A more relaxed way of drifting through the world as he entered The Daily Bugle’s office. If you could find happiness in the small things, maybe he could too.

–

The next time Peter got a photo of you wasn’t actually one he took. You did.

He’d done something menial, saving a cat from a tree, and came back to the ground, kitty in hand, to a crowd gathering around. He didn’t mind the attention, he’d gotten used to it by now, especially when it wasn’t negative. This wasn’t a mob – rather a group of people pleased to see him, including the cat’s owner thanking him over and over again. A cat owner he definitely recognized.

You’d had a rough morning, spilling coffee on yourself and creating a mess on the floor – only for your cat to walk through and get his fur drenched. Giving him a bath did not go well either, full of his hissing and your groan when knocking came at your door. Half-soaked and tired, when you opened up the door to your neighbor, your cat took the chance to book it. Shoving your head out into the hallway, you caught a glimpse of his tail disappearing out the window at the end of the hall.

Your neighbor handed you a package that’d accidentally been delivered to her apartment, which you threw inside your place before slipping on your nearest shoes. Grumbled “sorry’s” passed your lips as you passed others while racing to the building’s front door to chase after your horrible (and adorable) cat. Cool morning air of the late summer greeted you as your eyes flashed across every inch of the streets, buildings, even trash cans. But the pitiful cries of your cat came from above.

Straining your neck, you saw flashes of orange swishing in a tree near your building. “Oh god,” you muttered while racing to the bottom of it. Bark scratched against your palms as you leaned against the trunk, looking up at him. His claws sunk into the tree far out of reach for you to grab.

Calling the fire department certainly felt like overkill to get your now traumatized (read: overdramatic) cat out of a tree, and a bit cliche. Shaking your head, you told him, “Please just get down here. I will give you a hundred treats and unlimited attention.” A long sigh loosened from your lungs, hoping he somehow understood your pleas.

“Sure wish I got that kind of reward,” a soft voice laughed out behind you.

Any embarrassment heating your face seemed to drain away when you turned to come face to face with Spider-Man sticking to the wall of your building, looking right at you with those big white eyes. Words escaped you for a second as you kept staring. You’d only ever watched him swing on television, barely catching him as a speck in the distant horizon of the city’s skyline if you were lucky. You couldn’t stop staring, even as he tilted his head at you.

“Guess all I need now is the hundred treats,” he said, and you could’ve sworn he smiled under that mask. You would’ve laughed along with his silent ones if he hadn’t pointed out your incessant gazing.

“Well, only if you get him down, that is.” Your nervousness bled through your words, maybe from his presence. Probably your cat. The sweat coating your palms didn’t know anymore.

Breaths floated past your lips a little easier when Spider-Man lept up into the tree and grabbed your cat, much to his dismay. More cries came from above until they sounded from directly in front of you, webbed gloves wrapped around his middle and holding tight as he wiggled.

“Oh thank you,” you said before whispering to your cat, “And hush, you got yourself into this, Samwise.” You took him from the superhero, silently chastising him. Of course your cat would do this to you – send you out into the streets in dirty clothes and disheveled… well, everything, only to stand in front of literal Spider-Man like this. The people that had gathered only for a moment started dispersing after the excitement died down, not that there’d been much to begin with besides you talking to a cat.

“Samwise?” he questioned while brushing a finger along your cat’s forehead. Soon, soft purring began vibrating against your chest.

With a small laugh, you said, “Yeah, he’s just as sweet as Samwise Gamgee, but it seems he’s just as adventurous too. Thank you, again.”

“Of course. Just your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, right?” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck, but you doubted he could actually itch anything through that suit. Was he as nervous as you?

Though it mostly went against your judgment, you knew your friends wouldn’t believe you if you didn’t have some sort of proof that this all happened. “Okay, I know you’re probably really busy and I look completely wild, but could I take a quick picture with you?”

He looked up from where he’d been staring (and cooing) at Samwise to lock eyes with you, and though you couldn’t see any part of his face, it still brought a heat to your cheeks. “If wild means pretty, then I’d love to.”

Oh. If you hadn’t been flustered before, that sure did it. Fishing your phone out of your pocket with a cat in your arms and shaking fingers proved difficult. But you finally held it up, hoping to finish with all this and let him get on with his life – only for the sun to shine right into your eyes at this angle.

“Ah, maybe I should turn the other way…” you started but were quickly cut off by the sound of Spider-Man shooting webs from his wrist.

“Does that help?”

Looking up, you saw that he created a web in between branches of the tree – right where the sun had been shining into your vision.

“Yeah… yeah, that’s great. Thank you,” you said in a quiet voice, suddenly unsure whether all Spider-Man fan interactions felt this intense. Was it just you?

You brought the phone back and focused it, though selfies were never your talent. So while you balanced Samwise and struggled to get the three of you in frame, Spider-Man brought his hand up and angled it up slightly.

“There…” he mumbled, and the body heat rolling off of him had you frozen, had you in a hold until you saw that hint of his mask moving in the camera as if he were smiling for the picture. So you followed suit, capturing a picture of you, him, and your cat he just saved all bathed in the morning sunlight.

“Hey, be sure to share that with me on Twitter, okay? If you know my page on there… it’s been a while since I’ve done the whole ‘save a cat from a tree’ thing.” He laughed again, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it quickly becoming one of your favorite sounds.

“Yeah, I know it,” you started saying, aware that everyone in New York knew about his social media presence, but… “I’m just not sure it’s the best picture of me, you know?”

That time, there was no denying the way the eyes on his mask shot up. “Well I’d be dying to know the best picture there is of you, because that must sure be something,” he told you. And you were about to respond (you absolutely were, not just stand there and stumble over your words and unable to make eye contact), but sirens began to start up in the distance.

He yelled out, “You better share that with me!” as he shot out a web, leaving you with no argument as he swung away. Holding Samwise close to your body, you let out a breath and watched as Spider-Man floated above the skyline.

And later that night, you did end up sending it to him despite how you thought you looked in it. He had stood so close to you, and your heart melted everytime you saw the way his hand rested against Samwise’s cheek – who all but adored the attention and pressed back into him. Peter had to keep himself from opening your message immediately, especially since he was in the middle of taking down a man trying to break into a store.

“Hey! You can’t just leave me here!” the man clothed in black said as he hung from a fire escape in the alleyway next door. Meanwhile, Peter stood there, hovering his thumb over your message after shooting a web over the man’s mouth.

Peter internally groaned as he began pacing back and forth. Was he overthinking this? He probably was. He ran a hand over his face before deciding to wait until he got home to open it… to play it cool – he was being really cool about all this.

Until he did open it and fell in love with a different part of you each time he glanced at it.

–

The next picture Peter had of you came from someone else, a fan of his that tweeted at him a day after he’d talked with you again.

You’d been sitting out on your fire escape, sweater on and hot drink in hand as fall quickly approached, watching the dipping sunset about to kiss the tops of New York’s buildings. And you nearly spilled it all – almost dropped the mug down on top of pedestrians passing by – when Spider-Man landed on your railing and sat down on it.

The sudden gasp threatening to come out stopped in your throat, your fingers tightening against the mug’s handle as you tried to calm your breathing.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to scare you,” he rushed out, reaching his hands toward you as he apologized. All of his super strength would go into internally smacking himself in the face later.

By the time you could think clearly again, you looked up at him and his legs swinging back and forth. “Not sure how you thought landing on someone’s fire escape from the sky wouldn’t scare them, but it’s okay,” you said with a breathy laugh.

“Fair. You’ve got me there,” he admitted. And before the following silence became too overbearing and overwhelmed by the traffic below, he asked, “How’s Samwise doing?”

You blinked at him, eyes wide as you thought about it. “He’s…” you paused, “He’s well. No more climbing trees for him, unless I get you on speed dial.”

The eyes on his suit narrowed for a moment before he hopped off the railing, coming to stand just a little closer to you. “Is this your way of asking for my number?”

He couldn’t help but laugh – at your own surprised giggle, at the way you hid your burning face behind your cup, and at how the skin of your face crinkled with each laugh. “So Spider-Man– Can I call you that?”

“Mr. Spider-Man, The Spidester. Any of the following adjectives between ‘The’ and ‘Spider-Man’: Amazing, Spectacular, Friendly Neighborhood, Handsome… the list goes on,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Through a smile you desperately tried to hide, you said, “Okay, Spidey, I was going to ask whether you’re this flirty with all of the citizens you help.”

God was he glad you couldn’t see the red painting his cheeks or somehow sense the warmth in his chest from your words. “Maybe it’s just the lucky ones that I help save their cats.”

“Ah, so it’s luck then?” you asked, and there was no missing the teasing look you gave him or the way your body subconsciously leaned toward his.

He felt the suit pull taut as he nodded. “Yeah, luckier than winning the lottery, I’d say.”

Pursing your lips, you considered him for a moment. And Peter had never felt so seen by someone who couldn’t actually see him. It made him want to know what went on in that pretty head of yours. Really pretty.

Your hands rose up to gesture at him, breaking him from his staring as a chilled breeze went by. “Okay, next question. Do you ever get cold in that thing? Snow’s not far off here, and your suit doesn’t look very… winterized.”

For a moment, he thought about teasing you, saying something about how you were checking him out enough to notice that about his suit, but he wouldn’t deny an audience to talk about his technology with. “For a while, it wasn’t. I wore a hat sometimes, a scarf made by my… relative – but that didn’t exactly scream ‘intimidating’ to people, so I had to make adjustments to the suit. It’s now a bit more insulated, but moving around and beating ass usually warm me up too.”

The sudden laugh you let out at brought an unmissable smile to his lips. Oh, how he wanted to make you do that again and again. “I suppose it would,” you said in between breaths. And maybe you thought better of it, but you followed up with, “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee or something? As a thanks for Samwise.”

Peter almost said yes in an instant, anything to keep you talking to him for just a little longer. But angry yelling erupted a block over, some argument he picked up with his hearing. The screaming in his head telling him to ignore it and choose you instead nearly drowned it out, but he couldn’t.

With a weight in his stomach, he said, “Raincheck? Duty calls.” You only nodded, eyebrows all scrunched up before he lept from the fire escape and off to the fight starting to break out. It was that moment right before he left that a fan caught with their phone.

It looked a little fuzzy from how far away it was taken, but it was unmistakably Spider-Man standing across from you. It’d be difficult to make out your face, but he knew it was you. The two of you almost looked domestic there, having a sweet conversation about your lives before the day ended.

The tweet came with speculations as to who you were and what he was doing with you. All of that ate away at the lump in his throat, so he found a way to get it deleted in case anyone tried finding you – but not before saving the photo himself to dream about a simpler life where you knew who he was.

–

Peter shouldn’t have done it. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but he did it anyway. Why? It seemed he never could think straight when looking at you, or being near you. Or even thinking about you for that matter. Sometimes, he wondered whether you had powers too, but just for making his mind all fuzzy and dull when it came to you. So against better judgment, he took the assignment The Daily Bugle had given him to interview workers about a series of recent break-ins – like the flower shop you worked at.

He’d found himself catching glimpses of you here and there while on patrol, not that he was looking for you, of course. But he just so happened to see you walk into the same shop almost every day, so he kept an eye on it to make sure you were safe as you trudged home after too-long shifts in your work clothes and uncomfortable but “work-appropriate” shoes. Not that him doing so meant anything. Right?

And he rationalized to himself that it was all worth it when he saw someone trying to force inside the building after hours while you and a coworker cleaned up and readied it for the next day. The man made his way in, shouting something to you two, a gleaming knife extending past his fingertips.

But Peter had been there, moving faster than he had in months. His vision nearly blacked out as his webs pulled the man back out onto the street, and he had no control over the hands that pressed this worthless man into the tar – wanting to push him into it. The knife had been thrown when he’d been pulled, landing somewhere too far to save this man, not from Peter. He could barely feel the writhing below him, the angry shouts of this person barely reaching his ears.

Then, he heard your voice. Something about calling 911, something about checking whether Spider-Man was okay. They should’ve asked about the other guy. But Peter loosened a breath, dropping his head for a moment before picking the man up and webbing him to the nearest street lamp. You were okay.

Still, when he turned to you, your coworker on the phone in the shop, he had to ask. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You blinked a few times, your arms wrapped around your middle. “Uh, yeah we’re okay. I’m okay, just a bit shaken up. Thank you… again.” Despite what had happened, you let out a small laugh. “We should really stop meeting like this.”

And in seeing that soft smile of yours, he was Peter again to himself. Not Spider-Man. He wished you could do that for him every day.

“How would you rather meet, then?” he asked, and if he didn’t love the flustered look you got, he would’ve been sadder about you turning away from him from embarrassment.

“Any other time than my or my cat’s life in danger. I think that’d be a good start.” You clasped one hand over the other as you rocked from one foot to the other. Only did his grin drop when you said, “We’ve, um, called the police. So you should probably head out before they get here.”

He took a bit of solace in how sad you sounded about him having to leave, so he swung away with a little hope in his heart. And really, it should’ve ended there. But he accepted the assignment to show up at the flower shop to interview people about it. Who knows? Maybe you wouldn’t work that day.

“Hi! Are you from The Daily Bugle? My boss said you’d be coming in.” You’d opened the door when he knocked on it, that brightness you always brought took his breath away in the best way.

Appropriate answers to your question would have been “Yes, I am” or “Yeah, my name’s Peter. Nice to meet you.” But he stared at you for a few seconds trying to come up with anything – the way your eyes lit up keeping him off balance and constantly teetering on some unknown cliff. He held up his camera as some sort of answer before finally breathing out, “Yes, sorry. It’s just a bit early for me.”

Laughing, you waved him off. “I get that. Come on in.” You told him your name and a bit about the place while showing him the few things inside the shop – most of it just being wall-to-wall flowers.

He followed you in, shaking his head and letting his hair flop against his face. Peter swore he tried his hardest not to stare like some love-sick fool, but he watched you lean against the counter like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. You asked, “What can I answer for you, uh…”

“Peter,” he offered as he scribbled down notes of what you’d said in between glances at you, as he didn’t trust himself to remember anything but your name that repeated over and over again in his head like a mantra. “Could you tell me a bit about what happened last night, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Subtlety, less violent this time, you wrapped an arm around your middle again as you nodded. You gave a smile, but it looked like a performance. He could feel your heartbeat.

“Of course. I and another coworker had locked the doors and began shutting the shop down when the man forced himself inside. He… he threatened us with a knife to unload the cash register,” you said, your eyes flicking between Peter’s face and the floor. “Not that we had much to hand over. But luckily we didn’t have to. Spider-Man showed up and stopped him.”

Peter felt some strange sort of pride at how relieved you looked as you continued describing the events once he had gotten there. The tension in your shoulders relaxed, your breathing evened out. Even your smile looked more real, authentic. He’d done that. Not that you knew it.

You let him take a picture of you for the story he’d write up, not that Jameson would be too pleased about anything in support of Spider-Man. But Peter wasn’t going to pass up on an opportunity to get another picture of you.

Even in black and white, the photo laid out in next week’s newspaper did your kindness justice. It somehow looked imbued within every expression you gave. You were surrounded by flowers and bouquets you had put together yourself. You belonged there, and Peter couldn’t help but feel that he belonged there behind the camera trying to capture you in as many photos as possible – keep you close to him as a picture if he couldn’t have you next to him living, breathing, being you.

And maybe he shouldn’t have, but Peter came back to the shop again and again, quickly becoming your favorite customer. Almost every time, he wanted to buy the flowers just to pass them right back across the counter and give them to you. Instead, Aunt May looked pleasantly surprised every time he came home with them, accompanied by red cheeks and an exasperated look on his face.

–

That photo of you in the flower shop, of your grinning face immortalized as the most beautiful person Peter had met – it was the same photo news outlets and newspapers used for you a few weeks later when you’d been attacked, targeted. He couldn’t bring himself to keep it anymore, not when it sat below headlines that made him sick and hateful.

His inner voice was right, the one that told him to stay away from you. That shouted at him to remember all the other people that’d gotten hurt because they knew him, because someone had found out you were important to Peter. And he didn’t really know you – had no reason to care about you as much as he did. But you’d crashed into his life at a time when he didn’t have many people to care about, especially now that he lived alone.

And he’d gotten to know what book you were reading at the moment, your favorite flower combinations to say just the right thing, the subtle way you quirked your mouth when trying to hide a smile. It’d overridden any self-preservation or reminder of what could happen to you.

Every night on patrol, he watched over your hospital room to make sure no one came near to hurt you. After, he’d spend hours tracking down the crime group that did it. That wanted to rid Spider-Man of the city. He’d almost kept the mug shots of each bloodied scum criminal he took down, who dared put a finger on you.

As Peter, he swallowed down his shame and self-hatred to visit you in the hospital – a bouquet in hand. Opening up your room door, he slipped in, letting out a sharp breath before facing you. The parts inside his chest that had hardened over these past days softened, nearly crumbled, at the way your eyes lit up at seeing him.

“Peter, you came,” you sighed out. You couldn’t move all that well, not with the bruising and the few fractures you sustained, but he could see the energy fighting in your body. Could feel it.

Holding out the flowers toward you, he said, “Yeah, of course I did.” He found himself unable to look at you long, each discolored part of your skin and wince at your body’s pain unbearable to witness.

Your hand brushed his, caressing his fingers as if to tell him it’d be okay, as you took the bouquet. “They’re beautiful, thank you.” Your voice barely broke the humming of the machines hooked up throughout the room, but the smile you hid behind the petals explained your feelings well enough.

He took a seat next to you, his body aching to touch yours in some way. To rest a hand on yours or kiss each bruise you had. But he didn’t, not after what he’d done. “How are you feeling?”

You gave a sad sort of laugh, one that wasn’t funny but at least didn’t bring tears with it. “Let’s just say I’m better now that you’re here.”

He knew you meant it, but it couldn’t be true, not when him being there had led to all of this. Biting back a groan, he said, “I… I wanted to see how you were doing, but I also wanted to say goodbye.” His eyes stayed glued to the tiled floor, speckled in beige and too shiny. “I just–”

“I know it was you.”

Peter Parker always had a smart remark, a witty comeback. Especially when it came to you and the joy he could pull from you. But not now. Your words froze him, sending ice through his skin and shredding down into his nervous system.

You made the first move, reaching out a hand to his knee to stop its shaking. He hadn’t even known he had been shaking his leg. But it made him shut his eyes, force even breaths through his nose.

“There was no way I could forget your voice, or how you tilt your head when you’re confused,” you told him, and his throat felt tight at the slight crack in your voice. “I forgive you, Peter. As long as you don’t say goodbye.”

You made him so careless… carefree, for once in his life. His calloused palms scratched against his face, the pressure of his fingers against his scalp like iron weights – weight as heavy as his mistakes that he paid witness to right in front of him. “I can’t.”

“At least stay with me for a little longer,” you pleaded. Your hand reached up to wrap around his wrist and pull them away, forcing him to look at you. And you smiled, the only smile that he couldn’t resist. So he stayed, holding you until he embedded his fingerprints into your skin.

–

For a long time, Peter had forgotten all about those photos – they were just wishes thrown into the wind for some future he hoped to have with you. So when you took that first picture of you as a couple, a picture of him kissing you on the cheek in Central Park, arms wrapped around one another and no world outside the two of you, how could he think about any other photo?

He’d brought you there after you’d healed, the painful memories faded from your skin. You fell asleep in that hospital bed with your hand entwined in his to find him still there when you awoke. He hadn’t said goodbye.

Peter had asked you out with another bouquet, one that you’d told him meant eternal gratitude and affection. If you hadn’t had gone through everything, maybe you would have been embarrassed at how fast you told him yes. But with the way his honey eyes melted at your answer, you couldn’t regret something like that.

That photo of that first date stayed with him all the time, printed out and everything. Peter did the same for the next one – of you both lounging lazily in his bed and morning sun streaming in through the blinds. Then the same for the one from the photo booth at the mall. His wallet soon stretched against its seams before you made him choose one to keep in there or he’d end up losing all of them somehow. The rest decorated the walls and shelves while others found their way into a shoebox he hid so it’d never be damaged.

But he never stop taking photos of you to remind himself of what he had. In the middle of cooking dinner, sauce and measuring cups everywhere, he took a picture of you, hands of your hips and trying to not look amused. But he saw you in a way his camera could never capture, so you smiled against your will. Peter even took one while swinging through the air with you, your body clung to his as you tucked your face against his neck. You’d smacked him for that one, but there was no helping him when it came to you.

The one photo he chose to keep tucked against his body, to remind him to make it home, was the one from a family dinner. It looked simple, cute with friends and family surrounding you two with wide smiles, but it’d always been more to him. There was his family, his life far away from his hidden one. The life you had given him.

@reidslovely

A/n: Thank you for reading, it means the world.

#peter parker #tasm peter parker #tasm andrew garfield #tasm spiderman #spiderman #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x gn!reader

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talialovesmiw · 5 months

Text

Ricky “Horror” Olson x Reader

Sweetness

Part 3: Trust

Warnings: Cursing

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/734435817490202624/talialovesmiw

Part 4: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/736069691470151680/talialovesmiw

Y/N’s POV

Ricky had been helping me pack for the last hour, and admittedly, it felt pretty awkward. Neither of us had spoken much. I mean, this whole situation was so new and strange. It felt so…unnatural and unnerving. One minute I’m walking home from a tiring day at work and then the next, I’m told I’m being targeted by an unknown demon and that an attractive demon I met in the woods is protecting me. I was surprised I hadn’t fainted from all the excitement from the day.

I looked over at Ricky who was sitting on my bed and was gently petting my cat, Theo. The sight was rather heartwarming, “He normally doesn’t like when strangers pet him, so I guess he must like you,” I said with a small chuckle, finally breaking the silence.

Ricky glanced up at me and smiled softly, “I would hope so, he’s going to be stuck in the same house as me for a while.” He laughed a little, making me smile.

“Hey, as long as he still gets his treats and favorite blanket there, I’d say he’ll be a happy camper.”

“Oh, he won’t have to worry then,” He said, winking at Theo. Theo just yawned as he stretched out on the bed. I laughed softly before sitting down on the bed, gently petting Theo as I looked at Ricky.

“So…how does all of this work?” I asked, tilting my head, “You know, with all these different classes of demons and stuff.”

Ricky, looked down, thinking for a moment before he looked back up at me, “Well, to put it simply, there are 3 different classes of us demons. The ones who target humans, the ones who protect humans, and the ones who take care of the threats. It all depends on the family the demon is born into, really. My brothers and I were all born into a family that protects humans, but our parents died when we were little, so they couldn’t really tell us much about the business of it all..” He trailed off at the last part, looking away briefly and I frowned a little.

I put my hand on his shoulder gently, and gave him a sympathetic look, “I’m so sorry Ricky…” I spoke softly. He looked back at me and gave me a small smile, putting his hand on my own that rested on his shoulder.

“Don’t apologize, sweetness, it isn’t your fault,” He said gently, “My boss took all of us under his wing shortly after their deaths, and was sort of like a father figure to us. He taught us everything we needed to know about our roles and purposes. He taught us how to fight and how to properly control our powers in case they are ever needed. He always wanted us to be strong enough to be able to defend ourselves and others, it’s especially important when you need to be protecting someone.”

“So, there’s a different class that just handles the threats? Do you sort of work together with that class?” I asked

“You could think of it like that, yeah. Once that class takes care of the threat, then the human is no longer in need of protection.”

I looked at Ricky curiously, a burning question that I had been wanting an answer to for a while now, “Do you know why the other class targets humans? What they want us for?” He shook his head.

“Not really. From what I understand, most humans were either peaceful or indifferent towards us. My guess is that they want something out of them, perhaps some sort of plaything? Kill them for the fun of it? I’m not certain. My brothers who have protected humans never got an answer.”

Plaything? I felt my heart drop to my stomach as my face turned pale and I felt myself shaking a little, “P-plaything?...” I stuttered, “Oh…Oh god, I don’t want to be someone’s p-plaything…I-I-”

Ricky cut me off as he pulled me into an embrace, his hold on me firm as one of his hands gently rubbed my back. The sudden action made my cheeks flush, “And you’re not going to be a plaything. I won’t let that happen sweetness,” He pulled away a little as one of his hands gently cupped my face, “It’s my job to keep you safe, and I’ll be taking my job very seriously,” He stated firmly as he looked into my eyes, “I’m going to make sure you’re safe, I promise.” He said softly as he gave me a comforting smile. I felt a little bit of relief, he was someone I knew I would feel safe with.

“Right, s-sorry. This whole situation is honestly terrifying. It’s such a strange new change and all this information feels so unnerving,” I said as I looked at him, “But I feel like I can trust what you’re saying, considering the events in the forest.”

“I’m glad you can trust me, sweetness,” Ricky said with a smile, “You trusting me is incredibly important.”

I nodded, smiling at him, “Yeah, I know. I think I’m going to be okay knowing you’ll be keeping me safe.”

…………………………………………………………

Ricky’s POV

“Yeah, I know. I think I’m going to be okay knowing you’ll be keeping me safe.” She said as she smiled at me. I felt my cheeks heat up for a moment before I smiled back at her.

“I guess I’m doing a good job already, huh?” I joked, as I stood up. She giggled a little.

“Why yes, you are,” I smiled and let her go.

“Are you all set to go?” I asked. She nodded and stood up with her cat in her arms.

“Yeah, just let me put Theo in his pet carrier and then we can go.” I nodded and she turned to walk away. I watched as she disappeared into the other room, allowing myself to think for a moment.

I barely knew this girl and yet…I liked her already. She was a sweet little thing in the woods, she had a little charm to her, didn’t she?

The way she had subconsciously swayed me from my photography and aid her out of the forest just with her shivering and nervous demeanor... The kiss she had left on my cheek as a thank you…

This girl…she was such an innocent soul. Now she’s probably going to be paranoid and on edge for a while. It was easy to tell based on her initial reaction.

She didn’t deserve this, no human did. Not even Armon knew what the other class wanted with humans. It was always so unclear.

From what he could gather, they wanted to use them in a sort of way. In what sort of way? No one knew. It could be anything. A plaything or toy of sorts? Kill the human for fun? Their blood to feed on? The possibilities were endless.

The thought of Y/N being in any of those situations made me cringe. Something urged me to keep her safe at all costs, no matter what.

Suddenly, her voice interrupted my train of thoughts, “Ricky? Are you alright? I’m ready to go now.”

I shook my head a bit and looked at her, “I’m alright sweetness, let’s go.” She nodded before turning to leave.

…………………………………………………………

Y/N’s POV

We started to head out of my home and I turned my head back to give it one last look.

For the past 7 years, I called this small little house home. It wasn’t much, but I loved it dearly. It had a charm to it, it was almost like a little cottage. It was cozy and had brought me comfort. I was sad to leave it behind.

I looked back and sighed. Ricky seemed to take notice and looked at me as we walked outside, “Going to miss your little home?” He asked softly. I nodded.

“Very much…I have lived in it since I was 20. I had saved up for it and I was overjoyed when I finally bought it,” I smiled sadly as I locked the door. Who knew how long it would be locked for now.

“I guess I’m just sad to leave it behind.” I said as I looked down, now walking down the steps and down the walkway.

Ricky gave me a look of understanding, “I understand, it must have a lot of meaning to you.”

“It does…I had been saving up for it since I was 16. Home life wasn’t the best and I knew that the faster I saved up for a house of my own, the faster I could get out of the one I grew up in. It was such a proud accomplishment when I got the keys to it.” Ricky approached me and stood next to me.

“Well, in a matter of time, you’ll be reunited with your home. I may not know how long it’ll be, but I promise you’ll see it again.” He said with a hopeful smile. I nodded in agreement and sighed.

“I know, thank you. I know I’ll be in good hands with you though as well.”

I could’ve sworn a tinge of pink crept onto his pale cheeks momentarily before it quickly disappeared as he smiled at me.

“You certainly will. Let’s be going now, yes?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He reached out a hand to me, “Want to see a trick?”

I raised my brow at him, “Um, sure?”

“Take my hand, try not to get too startled sweetness,” He said with a chuckle.

With a skeptical look on my face, I placed my hand in his. He snapped his fingers and in a flash, we were in front of a home.

Blinking a few times, I let go of his hand and turned to him, “Did…did you just teleport us to your home?” I asked, a bit flabbergasted. A smirk crept its way onto his lips.

“Yes, I did. One of the many perks of being a demon,”

“I-...if you can teleport, how come you didn’t when you helped me out of the woods?” I asked. He just shrugged.

“Didn’t want to risk anything, especially with the state you were in. Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to talk much to you, right?” He winked, a small blush making its way up my face.

“R-right,” I stuttered a bit, earning a chuckle from him.

“Well anyways,” He walked up to the house, unlocking the door and opening it for me, “Welcome!” He said as he walked in behind me, and closed the door.

We walked down a hallway and Ricky opened a door at the end of the hall on the right, “This will be your room,” He said as I walked in.

My eyes widened at the size. It was twice the size of my old bedroom. It had a full sized bed with baby blue bedding and comfortable looking pillows. It had a desk and a decent sized closet. It also had a bathroom attached. I found myself speechless. It was such a lovely room.

“Is…Is there something wrong with it?” Ricky asked, seemingly a bit anxious now.

“No, not at all…Ricky, this room is lovely!” I exclaimed with a smile as I turned to him. He let out a sigh of relief and smiled softly at me.

“I’m glad you like it, you had me worried for a moment when you went silent.” He said with a small laugh.

“I was just surprised is all, I’ve never slept in a room of this size.”

“Enjoy it, I want you to be comfortable,” He said with a smile and went to the door, “I’ll let you get settled now, let me know if you need anything, alright?”

“I will, thank you.” He nodded before he closed the door, leaving me alone in the room.

I placed one of my bags on my bed and unlocked Theo’s cage so he could roam around the new surroundings. I leaned forward on the bed and let out a tired sigh.

“What a day this has been,” I breathed, running my hands through my hair, “Well, I might as well unpack now…”

…………………………………………………………

I finished unpacking around an hour later, and decided it was time to unwind. I took my clothes off and threw them in one of my bags, and walked into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and waited a moment for the water to become hot. I stepped in and let out a relaxed sigh as the warm water ran down my back. This was just what I needed.

I stayed in there for what seemed like an eternity before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower. I wrapped the towel around my figure and wiped the mirror above the sink. A tired reflection with heavy eye bags stared back at me and I knew I needed rest.

I put some of my favorite lotion and body spray and changed into a grey tank top and purple sweatpants. I blow dried my hair and braided it, letting it drape across my shoulder. I lifted the comforter and got under the covers. The mattress felt like a cloud, and the pillows had the perfect balance of softness and firmness.

“Holy shit this bed is soft,” I murmured, snuggling into the soft pillows and blanket, “Night Theo,” I said softly as I closed my eyes.

…………………………………………………………

I ended up not getting much sleep at all last night. My mind was racing the whole time about this whole new situation. Endless possibilities and outcomes ran through my mind, leaving me feeling paranoid and restless.

I groaned as I got out of bed, rubbing my eyes. I just knew the bags under my eyes looked worse. I put on some slippers and opened the door, trudging down the hallway.

I saw Ricky sitting on the coach, reading a book quietly. He saw me approaching closer, and lowered his book, offering me a small smile, “Morning,” He greeted me. I nodded and mumbled out a tired greeting.

I sat down and he studied my tired features, a slight look of concern on his face, “Didn’t get much sleep last night?” He asked softly. I shook my head and yawned.

“Barely a wink..” I groaned, “Still thinking a lot about all of this.” Ricky offered a look of understanding as he scooted a bit closer.

“I’m sorry about that, sweetness..” He thought for a moment before an idea popped in his head. “How about we get some coffee? My treat.” He offered, making me perk up a bit with a smile. He chuckled at my response.

“Sounds great, it’s just what I need right now.” He smiled and stood up.

“Coffee it is then.”

#motionless in white #miw #miw band #motionless in white x reader #x reader #fluff #ricky horror x reader #ricky olson x reader #ricky miw #rickyolson #sweetness

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sinners-in-paradise · 5 months

Text

Chapter One: A Hero in Paradise

Masterpost

Chapter written by @monsterhatdoodles

–––

The willow tree swung in the wind.

Dero swung with it.

The hero’s stab wounds were deep. Multiple. Fatal. His blood dropped down, watering the tree as it stood alone in the fields of hades. Dero slowly drifted with the wind, tied upside-down up from the tree.

The deformed dark matter’s long, black body was caked in blood. His cape was tattered and torn. His four spider like legs were limp, wrapped in red string.

A pale blue reaper yawned, and snapped his fingers. Dero woke with a snap.

“Ah! You’re up!”

The reaper seemed bored, but chipper.

“I’m Papi, and long story short, you’re dead.”

The only response was sobs. Papi began to feel a little awkward. He fluttered his wings to shake off the feeling.

“So, uh…. Welcome to the underworld, buddy! Your final resting place. Hades, if you will. You’re going to be here for a while. Forever, actually. There’s no escape.”

Dero continued to sob. He began to struggle violently against the red string holding him. Papi looked around before continuing.

“Yeah…so…that’s a bummer. But on the plus side, you never have to eat, drink or sleep again! Or pay rent! Isn’t that great? You won't age either. Time's real funky here.”

Dero began to choke on his own tears and blood. Papi tried to avoid eye contact.

"I’m sure you’ll make plenty of friends here. Probably. I can’t really tell much about you other than that you can cry an awful lot.”

Dero finally was able to choke out some words between his sobs.

“Please…. Help me…”

The light blue reaper fiddled with his hands.

"Yikes... er.. sorry. Can't help you with that, buddy. Boss strung you up like this for a reason. I can't go against its orders. You know how it is."

Dero's sobs became louder, riddled now with helplessness and despair.

"Listen, I gotta go. Lotta more dead people to deal with. But before I go, I feel like I should mention that hades, it, uh... does things to your body. Bad things. You'll see."

Dero shook violently.

".....Bye."

With that, the light blue reaper vanished in a flash, leaving Dero alone, cold, and suffering.

Weeks (or at least, they felt like weeks) passed. Dero spent the time wailing and sobbing. He spent the time thinking of his friends.

He thought of Ades, who's advice he'd always ignored. He thought of Wisp, who just like him, was fooled by her guise. He thought about Dolly, who was now left alone in her grasp. And he thought about her. Even now, that memory was so beautiful to him.

–––

"This place just goes on forever, doesn't it?" Gwen growled indignantly. The purple, round felian fiddled with her ponytail, irritated. The scar across her chest had been itching recently, and she wasn't in the best of moods.

"Well, I think these fields are very pretty." The gentle voice that replied came from a frail but beautiful woman. Dressed in a hospital gown, she looked over the fields and sighed. Her white hair rested above lavender eyes that were firm, but full of kindness. A long tube stretched out from her hand and unraveled into nothingness. Small orbs of spirit flame flickered playfully around her.

"Right, Celeernyx?"

The halcandrian behind Dulciana was slightly startled. Her green hood and dress, stained by the black ooze that covered her face, drifted slightly in the wind as she turned to the woman. Her cat like ears, wrapped in the vines extending from her wretched crown, twitched slightly as she looked at Dulci with perpetually tearful eyes.

"Oh? S-sorry, I was distracted. Yes, t-these fields are beautiful.."

Her voice was sad; scratchy and distorted.

"You're both delusional. The sooner we get out of here the better." Gwen replied before moving onward hastily. Dulciana let out a small sigh and followed.

Gwen liked these two, even if they were a bit too slow paced for her liking. The grey haired woman was far too peppy for the situation she was in, and the Halcandran kind of freaked her out with the whole melting face thing. But the three had been together for a while now, and Gwen would rather suffer a million deaths before she let another family of hers down.

Suddenly, Gwen stopped. She turned to the others with a face of slight discomfort.

"Do you... Do you two hear that?"

Dulciana stopped and listened while Cele tilted her head in confusion. Gwen listened to the sound, and as she was able to slowly distinguish what it was, a chill ran down her spine.

"It... It sounds like sobs."

Dulciana looked around for a moment, before pointing to the distance. "There," she said, her face somber. She was pointing to large willow tree in the distance. Its leaves were blood red and its trunk was stained a starch white.

The trio carefully approached the tree. The sobs got louder. Cele looked around the trunk of the tree for the source, only to find nothing. Suddenly, she felt a drop of liquid hit her newly grown wings. She looked up and let out a small gasp. A slender figure was hanging from the branches, his blood and tears dripping to the floor.

"Dear Nova..." Cele moved swiftly out of the flow of blood. "Who.. who is that?"

Dulciana thought she recognized the shape, but she wasn't to sure at this distance. She prayed her theory was false. "Whoever this is, we need to help him." She looked at Gwen. "Do you think you can climb up there?"

Gwen shuddered. Something about the figure seemed familiar to her too, but in a much different way. She didn't want to get closer to... whoever this was.

"M...Maybe they deserve to be up there..." Gwen tried to think up further excuses, but was cut off by a voice from the figure.

"Please.....H.....Help....M....Me........"

As much as she hated to admit it, Dulciana recognized that voice from her time watching over Pleiades. She shut her eyes, her teeth clamping together.

"Gwen. Get him down. Now."

Gwen groaned. She slowly climbed up the tree. Her claws sunk easily into the bark, allowing her to climb to the figure. They seemed to be sharper as of late.

The closer she got, the more uncomfortable she became. The figure struggled as she approached. The stab wounds he bore seemed all too similar to hers. She felt a sickening feeling in her stomach.

“He….lp…..m……m…..e…….”

The poor creature was crying, slurring over its own words. He must have died horribly. As Gwen got close, she saw that the figure seemed to have several large sewing needles stuck in his back. Gwen’s stomach churned as she cut each red string one by one. She tried her hardest to avoid looking at Dero’s bleeding body.

Eventually, the last string was cut, and Dero fell to the soft blood-soaked grass below. He let out a miserable, pathetic cry as Dulciana went to help him up. Her worse fears were confirmed. It was Dero, after all. He began to whisper a name Dulci was all too familiar with.

“Pleiades….Pleiades you were right… I’m sorry.”

Dero passed out, his blood still flowing onto the grass below.

#ooooh! spooky! ;) enjoy the horror show to come and speculate to your heart's contempt!#kirby #sinners in paradise #kirby oc #dero #sir gwynn #celeernyx #miss dulciana

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battyshopkeeper · 2 years

Text

Diner Bird || Part 1

“One sleepless night after your shift as Robin, you come across a dingy diner to pass the time. You never expected to met a certain stranger that you’ll quickly befriend. Not knowing just what the future holds for you.”

Edward Nashton x GN! Reader

Requested by Anonymous: “hello! can i maybe request a Edward Nashton x robin reader?“

Word Count: 2784

Contains / Warnings: Implied obsessive behavior, Fluff if you really squint, Get ready for angst next chapter.

You now understood how it felt to lose yourself to a title, How the connection to a mask could make your life like a hazy dream that you could burly remember. It made an odd type of loneliness, something within.

Maybe that's what Bruce saw in you, someone who was tired of being on the sidelines, with their life passing by to eventually meet a bitter end. But your life took a turn when the Prince of Gotham himself took you under his wing, gifting you the title of Robin and the promise to be by his side. It completely changed your life around, giving you a purpose to latch onto. But was it for the best? You didn't quite know.

You look up from the newspaper, staring down at Bruce, who had been hunched over his desk for what seemed like hours now. This was nothing new, usually his quietness leading to hanging around him like a bothersome cat while he worked the night away. You put down the newspaper with a loud thud in an attempt to get his attention. "With the election a couple of months away, I'm getting really weird vibes. You think I'm being paranoid?"

Bruce only lightly hummed in response, still too focused on tinkering with his suit. Not satisfied with his answer, you made your way to the metal table, sitting on the edge with a pout. "Sooo, whatcha doing?" "Working on gauntlet prototypes." He bluntly answered, leaving you to raise a brow as all you could do was watch him continue on with careful hands. It only took a bit for him to slow down before glancing up at you, "Your shift is over. If you're bored you can leave anytime."

Leaning your head back, you let out an exaggerated sigh. "What could I do this late at night though?" "Don't you have friends?" He asked in a dull tone, making you instantly respond without thinking. "Do you?" You freeze when you realized what you just blurted out, noticing Bruce's small glare before returning to his work, making you feel even worse. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean it that way."

He didn't even bother to respond. Yep. That was your sign to go, before you made things even more awkward for the both of you. Quickly grabbing your coat, you made your way to the elevator with a small stilted goodbye.

But leaving one problem only led to another. What the hell could you do now? With it being late and the rain pouring down. All you could really do was mindlessly ride your car through the dark streets of Gotham.

It wasn't after drifting off into a haze that you perked up when the lights of a neon sign attracted your eyes, the words 'Open 24/7' making you slow down to have a better look. It was for a worn down diner in a hid off corner, Nothing remarkable but for you? You were really craving a coffee right now.

You didn't hurry at all, taking your time to distract yourself with your surroundings and mundane actions. Even when making your way inside, you ignored the grimy feel that seemed to fill every crack and corner of the city. Simply giving a small smile to the obvious overworked waitress. Ordering a caramel latte while taking a seat on the spent out leather stool.

It took no time before you heard the waitress set a cup near you as you were too distracted looking around the lonely joint. With a small 'Thanks' you took a sip, knowing full well this was probably worsening your caffeine addiction. But honestly this was more peasant then you thought it was gonna be. A moment of peace as all you heard was the pitter patter of rain, and the television softy playing late night sitcoms in the background. You didn't even pay attention when you heard the front door open with it's ringing bell. You took another sip, being in your own small bubble as you stared off into nothing. Memories of tonight fighting replaying again and again, making you feel a familiar pit in your stomach.

"Sorry, you're four dollars short." You overheard, slightly turning your head, seeing it as a distraction to eavesdrops on. "Oh um—I'm sorry. I swear I had five bucks here." You head a soft voice speak along with the rustling of clothes. "Look honey, either pay up or order something cheaper."

"I'll pay the rest," You suddenly interrupt. The man with glasses looked on in surprise as you lifted a couple of bucks from your wallet. "Would hate for someone to catch a cold in this weather." You gave a friendly smile at the stranger, the waitress taking the money but not after glancing at both of you in suspicion.

The stranger awkwardly stood still, keeping his head down while his hands kept fidgeting with a small book and pen. "You can sit here with me. I'm not gonna bite." "Thank you," Edward mumbles while taking the seat next to you before his hands opened up the book to it's near end, revealing a half done crossword puzzle. Even when looking down at it, Edward would not-so-subtly take a few timid glances at you.

"So you got a late night shift like me?" You try to start, seeing him struggle to respond. Eventually shaking his head. "I can't seem to sleep tonight. I usually drive around—I decided to try something new tonight." "Heh, guess we're nocturnal animals. Deep down inside." You comment before taking another sip from your cup. Edward slowly turned to you, his green eyes taking in your appearance and features almost like he was trying to analyze you. You mirror him with curiosity and he seemed to quickly realize just how creepy it seemed, choosing to focus on the coffee that was being placed in front him instead. Never being the kind to let things down, you gesture at his puzzle book. "I wish I was good at those things, always end up raging."

"They're just little things for fun. Not that important really." Edward softly tried to dismiss, but you weren't having any of that. "Being able to solve things like that says a lot about a person. It's necessary in a way." "I wouldn't say they're necessary for life though." "Well, I think life is a puzzle. It explains why I suck so much at it." You let out a chuckle, feeling a little joy when his lips formed a half smile. "I'm good at them and life still sucks for me. Guess it's all down to luck at the end of the day." "Luck? Like how we've met right now?" You couldn't help but tease, seeing the man get visibly taken aback. "Hard to tell what's in store when you're burly making it to the entrance..." Edward's voice almost died out at the end, like he lost his confidence halfway through when your eyes met once again. "Is that a promise to check out what's in store?" You playfully ask, Edward's mind almost overheating at your boldness. "Maybe? I don't—I don't really know." "Hm, Let's get the ball rolling then. What's your name?" The stranger looked hesitant to answer, his leg anxiously bouncing against the tiled floor. "Ed—It's Edward Nashton." Yeah, this guys was too adorable for his own good. You quickly reply with your name, shaking his hand before his attention returned back to his book, you looked on with interest as the sound of his pen scribbling away was almost hypnotic. It was after a bit that you decided you weren't done teasing him just yet. "What's your fastest record?"

"I've never timed myself..." "Up for the challenge then?" You taunt him with a playfully smirk, as a response he flipped the page to a new one while looking up at you, "Got a timer on your phone?" He confidently said with a smile.

That was the first time you met Edward, the point where your life turned around like Bruce had done before. That night ending with the vague promise of being there next Friday, but that was all you both needed to get attached to one another. What was originally a random night at a dingy diner became many nights at a new safe haven.

With those days becoming weeks that eventually bled into months, Edward became a close friend in your eyes as you clicked almost instantly to his unusual personality.

It became scarily easy to go into deep talks out of nowhere that would somehow divert to the most bizarre things you both could come up with. Leading to moments of dying laughter, along with cringey but lighthearted times like squirting coffee out your nose when caught off guard by a crude joke, or the times you had to pause your deep conversations when a stray customer came in. For the first time you found someone else to pass these nights with, a new reminder that there was something outside of being in the shadows as Robin. While you loved Bruce, truly with all your heart, his silence always felt cold. And with his titles as Gotham's Prince along Batman, it made him seem like an untouchable concept. But Edward was anything but that, he was completely odd—Someone so meek but could change in the blink of an eye. It made it addicting to see the range his personality could go, it made seeing him even more addicting.

Of course, your trips to see the riddle obsessed man didn't go unnoticed by the bat and his butler, especially when you always made your way out the hideout in such a giddy hurry. The two already having discussed it behind your back as a point of concern, Alfred was encouraging at the idea of you finally socializing while Bruce could only halfheartedly agree, a secret part of him feeling protective over you that mixed with an unfounded ominous feeling.

___

The diner was full of laughter once again, your hand gripping the counter to support yourself from falling over as he gripped your shoulder to keep himself up. "Okay—Okay! I got another one." Clearing his throat before speaking, Edward tried his best to stop from breaking into fits of laughter. "Some people prefer being on top, others prefer being bottom, and it always involves a bed—" "Bitch, us?" You interrupt as he quickly choked on his saliva, leading to a domino effect of you laughing even harder that Edward couldn't help but mirror. "Stop—I can't fucking breathe, Stop!" He says between laughs and desperate gasps. It took a while to finally settle yourselves and fully calm down, both your faces now sore from constant grinning as the waitress passed by with an annoyed glare. You finally take that as a sign to drink your coffee in a small attempt to rehydrate. Edward finally glances up after gently putting his drink down, his demeanor changing slightly.

"This is sort of sudden, but I noticed..." Edward starts off with a polite smile, "You've never told me about your life out of here. I don't know what your number is, not even what job you have."

"Because it's not interesting." You slightly lie, only to notice his smile somehow change once again. "I don't believe that." He smugly said, almost all knowing, making you audibly huff. "What? Are you psychic now too?" "I actually know every thing about you." Edward stated with that changed smile, eyes squinting with something you couldn't quite explain. You instead take it at face value; An odd sarcastic joke. "How about this, You tell me something about your life and in return I'll tell you something about mine." He hummed in agreement while swallowing his last bit of his coffee.

"I was a choir boy when I was little. It was kinda awful—" He started with a small chuckle, while you let out a small one along side him. "No fucking way—You? That makes sense now that I think about it. No offense." "None taken. But it's your turn for judgment now."

You pause, pursing your lips in thought before responding, "My parents were poor ass hell, but friends with a billionaire—Who now pays for my college." "That's why I sensed a hint of snobbery from you." He taunted as you pouted with a glare, taking it as a threat to continue. "I uh—I like to collect gift cards in my spare time. Vintage, new, thrifted. It doesn't matter." You gave Edward a curious glance to which he tilted his head with a shrug. "There's something about it—The cards that is. Brings some kind of nostalgic feeling, even if I never got them as a kid." You just listen to him, noticing the way he gleamed before suddenly stopping with an apologetic look. "I got carried away, sorry. It's your turn now."

You rest your chin on the palm of your hand with a teasing smile. "I changed my mind actually. I wanna remain mysterious." That smile turned to a grin when hearing him let out a defeated whine and mumbled complaints.

Your attention flicked to the television for a brief second, nothing but campaign ads and reminders for tomorrow's final debate showing. It was enough to wipe your grin, like it was a reminder of the grim reality out there, outside this little bubble in this small diner. That uncertain feeling that had lingered on for so long creeping back up again with a chill. "I feel like everything's getting crazier, isn't it?" You mumble, Edward only shrugged while pulling out his wallet. "It's Gotham, if it isn't crazy you should be even more worried."

"Yeah but I feel like we're at a tipping point, either things are gonna get better or much worse." "Things always get worse around here." Edward frowns in thought, ignoring your concerned stare. "I don't believe that, I think it's good to have a little hope. Even in a place like this. It's all we have." "What happens when you get tired of hoping? Wishing on stars?" He looks up at the television with pure disdain. Something you rarely saw from him, It made you hesitant to speak up but you knew you had to be the positive one here. "You never stop wishing, you just get better at lying to yourself that you have." Edward looked at you, his eyebrows still furrowed yet eyes softening at your gaze. It made you feel fuzzy for a second before your cynical side came up, shaming you for it.

"So should we head out now? I gotta sleep soon, my boss is already complaining about my less then perfect sleep schedule. Not that he even tries to fix it." You stand up, hands straightening out your coat as Edward followed with a disappointed frown.

It was always bittersweet when leaving to go your separate ways, secretly wanting to walk by his side for a bit longer but still too terrified to even ask. You took a deep breath when exiting out the diner, being met with a harsh cold breeze yet it didn't stop your face from heating up; Tonight you decided you were going to take a step forward.

You suddenly turn to Edward with a timid look, clasping your hands together. "You wanna hang out later—like outside this place?" You swear you were about to slap yourself at how painfully awkward that delivery was. But it was like a miracle from the stars when he didn't comment on it.

Instead Edward pushed his glasses up, turning his head in a subtle way to hide his shy smile. "I would...Really like that, actually." You had to stop yourself from grinning by the sheer excitement his words brought you. Fumbling like an idiot as you reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone. "Can I get your number then?" He took no time to take your phone, typing his number with an underling bittersweet joy. Soon giving it back, not hiding the light gasp when your fingers faintly touched.

You both stood there for a moment, taking in each others sight, like you wanted these seconds to last for a lifetime.

Before you could do anything Edward suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug as you froze there, completely bewildered. A part of you felt like your heart was going to beat out your chest, the other feeling a newfound comfort by this unfamiliar warmth and the scent of him so close. You couldn't help but hug back, closing your eyes to take this in. Not noticing how his arm move so slightly down to your side. It felt like the moment was cut short when he finally pulled away, being surrounded with the lonely cold once again that made you wish he lingered a little longer. "I'll see you soon." He softly whispers before walking off, leaving you completely dazed in rose tinted glasses.

It felt like that moment would forever glimmer like a diamond in your mind, yet it only took one night for that memory to shatter like glass instead.

#the batman #the riddler #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #edward nashton x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x male reader #riddler x reader #riddler x male reader

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yourbestpalpercy · 2 months

Text

I got bored so here is how Everest feels about every character.

Tartar: Naturally, Everest is extremely loyal to Tartar because he helped her and gave her a home. She looks up to him and has pledged undying loyalty to the commander. It’s to the point where she blames herself and her “incompetence” for getting stung and not August.

Mr. Grizz: Whenever Tartar and Mr. Grizz meet up, Everest notices a sharp tension whenever Tartar mentions Everest. Considering that her first interaction with the bear was with her wearing her mammal coat, she always feels a sense of judgment and hate towards her oozing from him.

Inklings/Octarians (Or just most creatures in Inkopolis): Everest HATES THEM! Words cannot describe the contempt Everest has for them. Essentially, when she came down from the mountain, she started wearing a disguise (being confused for a stone fish when she was trying to blend in as an inkling) and started learning about the species in Inkopolis. Keep in mind, the cult she came from had been sacrificing people and animals to these guys. When Everest got to learn more about them, she grew enraged, believing that they were false gods who didn’t deserve the land the humans left behind.

Sanitized Octarians: Everest doesn’t talk to them much, not that she gets much out of them anyways. Most of them are timid around her and exceptionally quiet. In fact, if anything, Everest sees them as mindless servants of Tartar’s. She doesn’t treat them as such though.

CQ: Everest dislikes the smugness and brutal honesty she gets from him. She’d kick him like a football if he couldn’t morph and hold off her attacks easily.

August: Everest despises August for stinging her. Not much there. August also falls under Everest’s belief that the creatures in Inkopolis are false gods. Everest believes August is weak and a coward for sneaking out under the cover of darkness and stealing Tartar’s journal.

May: After her sanitization, …Everest softened up a little around May. She doesn’t fully trust May but she trusts her enough to talk about the cult she came from. She’s neutral about May for the most part (except about May attacking Tartar).

April: April is in the same boat. Exact same boat actually. She likes how quiet April is and often comes to her after a tough test or when someone frustrates her enough that she wants to break something.

7: Everest trusts 7 quite a lot. Conversations are awkward and quiet but even an idiot could see that they’re friends. Everest talks to 7 about her life in the cult and how terrible it was and 7 talks about her life in the underground and how boring and lifeless it often is. She’s also teaching Everest how to speak Octarian! …Not that Everest notices.

Everest: “You’ve…really never seen the sun? Or been outside?”

7: “Not even under タルタル’s (Tartar’s) sanitization.. I wonder how it feels though. The books he gets always talk about animals enjoying the warm 太陽 (Sun), the fresh air, the expansiveness of it all. …Are dragons real? The big lizards with wings?”

Everest: “タルタル? O-Oh! Tartar. And what was that? Sun? Sorry, ain’t the best with either pronunciation. Uhm, Not too sure honestly. If they do, they don’t like mountain cults,” Everest started giggling.

7: 7 giggles along.

Everest: “So, what’re you reading? There…weren’t a lot of books on the mountain and what books there were were filled with insane rambles about the Leviathan and how it was so powerful that God itself had to come down and slay it and how God failed. So far, all I’ve seen of this ‘Great Leviathan’ is the Zapfish and the mildest word I can think of for it is ‘Derpy’.”

7: “...” 7 checks the cover, “It’s about a world filled with cats and clans…”

Everest: “...Cats. There were a few Pallas Cats on Mount Everest, I always wanted to pet them actually. They always seem so…soggy as Tartar has weirdly referred to me as before. I don’t think he’s using the word right but he seems to think it’s an affectionate term…”

Pearl: As all that Everest has heard of Pearl is Tartar’s angry rants, she dislikes Pearl and thinks she’s a spiteful pri- jerk. On fair terms though (if they actually met), Everest would feel put off by Pearl’s excitement and dislike how she acted.

Marina: Same case with Pearl, she thinks she’s weak and stupid (based off of Tartar’s rants). On fair terms, I think she’d feel uncomfortable about Marina but definitely treat her a little nicer. Still cold but appreciate the music she and Pearl make together.

Captain: Everest constantly makes cruel jokes about when he’ll keel over dead. I don’t think this would change even if she actually met Cuttlefish.

3: …Everest thinks their harshness (that Tartar has talked about) is rather admirable. She wouldn’t mind meeting them in real life. Everest also wants to know how they managed to unsanitized themself.

8: Everest wants to STRANGLE 8!! She wants to see 8’s life fade away in her hands. She wants to throw 8 into water and watch them dissolve. And if they didn’t? Everest would sadistically watch them run out of breath slowly as she held their hand underwater. Everest is terrified of the blender but she would happily blend 8 by her own hands.

#commander tartar #splatoon #splatoon oc #splatoon 8 #splatoon 3 #agent 8 #agent 3 #marina splatoon #pearl splatoon #splatoon mr. grizz #mr. grizz #splatoon CQ #splatoon cuttlefish

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themightywolftiger · 1 year

Text

Cold Opening (Rift Malfunction)

The Deep Frost Citadel was no longer what Jimmy’s fuzzy memories remembered it to be. It was no longer just a fun game with friends, and it was no longer a dungeon crawler:

It was a prison with one prisoner, and Jimmy was staging a prison break.

----

“ It’s a death wish.” Fwhip spoke as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. The deer, goblin, and human hybrid was touching at the green-colored splotches of skin on his face.

As Jimmy left the small shack, Fwhip turned towards a map on the table as he touched gingerly at his still growing antlers.

-----

“ You’d either freeze or burn to death...” Scott spoke in a mumble as Jimmy helped him change the bandage going across his eye.

“ What do you mean?” Jimmy questioned quietly as he stopped working while flinching at the mention of freezing. But, it was good that Scott stopped him, he needed to grab the new bandage anyways.

“ Well, we don’t exactly know what kind of magic Tango’s usin’ right?” Scott narrowed his only eye as he gave Jimmy a heavy frown. Jimmy slowly nodded his head as he began to wrap Scott’s eye socket.

Scott’s wings flapped as he flinched away from Jimmy’s returning hand. Jimmy’s feathered ears lowered as he quickly moved his hands away from Scott.

“ S-Sorry! You alright mate?” Jimmy questioned with a tilt of his head. Scott let out a sigh, “ It’s still a bit tender. That fake eye did.. a lot of damage to me.” he mumbled with a small, awkward chuckle.

Jimmy shuddered then chuckled as well. After the chuckling ended, a tired silence filled the air as Jimmy cautiously went back to work.

One false movement could cause Scott pain, and Jimmy didn’t want to harm his friend.

-----

“ Do you want to get skewered again?” Joel questioned with a laugh. A large, fang-filled grin formed on his bearded face.

Jimmy rolled his eyes and turned around. He didn’t have the energy to argue with Joel. The bird hybrid’s wings flapped as he waved a dismissive hand towards Joel and headed for the door.

But as he left, he gingerly touched at the still bandaged wound near his stomach. An icy cold pain radiated from the spot as he walked away from the wolf hybrid.

-----

“ Jimmy, “ Lizzie spoke as she looked directly into his eyes, “ Are you sure that you know what you’re doing?”

Jimmy stared at the cat as his feathered ears twitched. A soft, pained sigh escaped from him as Lizzie changed his bandages. While Lizzie was diligent and gentle with her work, Jimmy couldn’t help but tense up as the clean bandage wrapped around him.

“ I-I’m certain. “ Jimmy eventually mumbled, “ Tango knows me... Even in his changed state...”

A frown formed on Lizzie’s snout; then, She looked down at Jimmy’s bandages, “ Are you sure? What about-”

“ Don’t talk about that...!” Jimmy chirped as he flinched and pain traveled up his side. He forced himself to look down at his wound. A grimace crossed his face as he looked at the icy blue marks that coursed across his abdomen.

Admittedly, It looked better than.... before; however, that’s not saying much. It still ached horribly and only stopped when he laid down.

“ Look, “ Jimmy put his shirt, vest, and bandana back on gingerly, “ I-I know that I can do this. W-We need to start getting the hermits back.”

“ But-”

“ But nothing, Lizzie! I’ve been stuck in this little cabin for days now!” Jimmy threw up a hand and flinched again. A deep breath escaped from his gritted teeth as he shook his head.

Lizzie’s ears lowered as her tail curled around her. The hybrid messed with her pink hair and ran her claws through it.

Jimmy’s angered expression softened as he sighed,

“ I-I’m sorry for shouting.” Jimmy mumbled as he sat back down; the hybrid curled in on himself as his wings wrapped around him, “ I just want to do something to help the hermits... to help our friends.”

“ It’s fine, Jimmy... I know.” Lizzie nodded her head as she put a paw against the bird hybrid’s shoulder, “ Just call if you need backup, okay?” she smiled as Jimmy nodded his head.

----------------------------------------------

Icicles shot through the ground and nearly pierced through Jimmy’s body. A yelp escaped from Jimmy as he froze in place. Each icicle was worryingly close to a vital organ or a joint.

What made matters worse was that the skinnier and sharper of the icicles were aimed towards his legs and arms. Even if he were to wiggle out, there was a chance he’d lose a limb or more in the process.

“ Well... Well.... Well...” An icy voice hissed from the darkness as a white fog suddenly filled the room. A painful chill went up Jimmy’s spine as his feathers fluffed up. Jimmy wanted to curl his wings around himself, he wanted to warm up; however, he couldn’t risk moving his wings.

But, Jimmy could look to see who was approaching.

Slowly, carefully, Jimmy turned his head and watched as a blue-eyed, fiery being glided into the room. The hybrid’s heart was pounding in his chest as his breathing quickened.

There was no look of familiarity in Tango’s glowing eyes. However, there wasn’t a look of anger in his eyes either.

Was it curiosity? Was it annoyance?

Jimmy didn’t know. Jimmy was afraid to know.

Tango’s hair moved in wisps as he walked, no, glided past Jimmy. Cold winds swept across the canary’s face as frostbite bit at his nose and cheeks. The hybrid’s own breaths were whiter than the fog as the taller hybrid slinked around him like a cat hunting prey.

Then, Tango stopped and moved his face closer to Jimmy’s own. A snarl rumbled from the icy lion’s throat as he opened his mouth,

“ Now tell me, little canary,“ Tango hissed as an icicle grew closer to Jimmy’s throat.

“ How did you find my citadel?”

#RiftMalfunctionAU #hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #empires smp #empires smp au #hermitcraft x empires #hermitcraft x empires au #tangotek #solidaritygaming #only tagging Jim and Tango since there's actually a drawing of them #Designs of everyone will be posted... eventually.

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cherryluvrx3 · 3 months

Text

meat lovers amirite??

Dave Strider x Reader x Karkat Vantas

Chapter 1

“Christ it’s always so goddamn hot..” Dave grumbled behind the cash register and wiped some sweat off his forehead. It was another Wednesday afternoon that was spent working for the best (not true) pizzeria ever, Pizza Hut. It was early march and even though it wasn’t necessarily hot outside, the heat inside the place was stuffy and unbearable.

It also didn’t help that they had hot pizzas being cooked, going in and out of ovens that let out little bursts of heat whenever they were opened.

“Yeah it’s even worse now that the air conditioner’s broken-“ “AND THAT WE’RE- SORRY I’M, COOKING HOT ASS PIZZAS!” Karkat cut off John, who was mopping in the front, with a yell from the kitchen.

“Stop complaining and get back to work, doughboy!” John shouted back. “DON’T MAKE ME COME OUT THERE!” Karkat yelled and the two were about to start their usual bickering.

“Guys wait, shut up there’s a call coming in.” Dave shushed the both of them and picked up the phone while Karkat grumbled to himself.

“Hi this is Pizza Hut, what can I get you?”

“Yeah hi! Can I get 3 pi-“

“Wait, for pick up or delivery?”

“Oh, uh delivery but yeah can I get 3 pizzas? One pepperoni, one sausage, and one meatlovers.”

“Alrightt… anything else?”

“10 breadsticks and 20 Cinnabons?”

“ Damn- I mean- ok anything else?”

“Uh.. yeah so like…”

They paused and he could hear murmuring in the back.

“Yeah?”

“Can you um.. can you hehe- send your uh, cutest delivery boy?”

…?

“…Haha what.”

“That’s it ok bye!”

The call ended and Dave just shrugged off what he just heard as another one of the harmless pranks he’d hear as someone working the phones and finished putting in the order.

He looked over to the keys that were for the delivery car before thinking, ‘hmm.. it’d be nice to stretch my legs and get some fresh air’ and then snatched them up, swinging them around his finger in a cool nonchalant manner.

“Heh John guess what?” Dave called to John who was now wiping down the windows.

“Yeah?”

“I just got a call requesting “the cutest delivery boy” you know what that means?”

“Uhh.. no?.. what..?”

“That means you can’t go.” Dave snickered to himself and went to the back while John just yelled out an offended, “What’s that supposed to mean!?”

———

“Ugghh!!” I screamed into a pillow right after I clicked the end call button while my friends just laughed at me. “Hey! You forgot to order wings!” Terezi complained. “Oh no! I’m not calling again!” I told her while I felt my own hot cheeks. Roxy, the evil witch who was the one that set me up to humiliate myself, giggled next to me, “Oh my god! Haha! At least he seemed like- chill about it?” Roxy patted my shoulder as I just sunk deeper into the couch, pouting.

“C'mon that’s a good thing! Means it probably won’t be that awkward when you open the door!” ��WHAT?” I snapped my head to look at her in surprise.

“Well.. think about it! You’re the one who called! You should open the door.” Nepeta chuckled from her spot on the carpet. “NO??? That means I shouldn’t have to answer??!” I whined as I shook the little cat girl by the shoulders. “Chill your motherfuckin’ grill little mama… it’s not that serious.. besides, if you play your cards right, you might be able to hit it off with pizza boy and finally land a boyfriend or some shit..” Gamzee said also from his spot on the carpet.

“I don’t think I’m getting a boyfriend from this Gamzee..” “I bet he’s gonna be ugly anyways.” Terezi snickered before going back to chewing on one of my pillows ew.

“Well it’s nice to be optimistic right!? A knight in shining armor-“ “You know damn well no pizza delivery boy is a knight in shining armor.” Roxy laughed while Nepeta pouted, “Well we’ll see when he gets here!”

———

About 15 minutes later, the doorbell rings and I get practically shoved to the door while the others hide behind a corner to watch. I pat down a few stray hairs- why am I so nervous? I’m literally never gonna see this guy again, I might as well rip the bandaid off, open the door, give him money, grab the pizza, wait.. wait wait wait - I hung up before he could tell me the price. Ugh now I have to have a conversation with him- oh god fucking damnit..

I open the door and right as I’m about to speak my voice cuts out. Okay, the dude isn’t devastatingly hot but he’s fairly cute, which is wayy more than what I was expecting from a Pizza Hut delivery boy..

“The cutest delivery boy is here.” He says with a smug tone, presenting himself like he’s the best thing since sliced bread.

Oh.

Oh god eugh ..

He’s a prick…

#homestuck #homestuck x reader #dave strider x reader #karkat vantas x reader #davekat

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forthedancingandthethriving · 6 months

Text

Abyssal exhales, crossing her arms. She taps her foot, trying hard not to look at Overseer. He was doing the same, though he found the floor of the Hub elevator much more interesting.

The silence was loud and awkward between the two, neither having really thought they'd need the other in a goddamned Hub elevator.

Abyssal exhales silently, glancing over to the doors. She'd typically just use a portal command like usual, but she didn't trust herself, not after the venom Cursor had spat at her just before she left.

She sighs softly. Well, she still needed to go and check out a universe. Apparently, it's Admin (or host, as Root had told her) had kidnapped Root and kept her in the universe for a few hours. Abyssal was glad she learned this from Root and decided not to tell anyone else. Why? Because with the recent events, Abyssal knew full well there wouldn't be any good reactions.

A sudden jolt from the elevator makes both Overseer and Abyssal jolt, stumbling to keep their balances. As they look around, confused, both miss the way a white lock appears over the doors before fading.

As the duo regained their footing, both notice that the elevator wasn't moving.

".. oh my god, are we stuck?" Abyssal wings press to her back.

"And we can't even break out because of the way the Hub is designed.." Overseer groans, tugging his hood further down.

She rubs her temples, pulling up a chat box to let Umbra know about her predicament before frowning deeply. A loading symbol of a gray cube spinning stopped her from stopped her.

"Weird.." she mutters. She then looks up, and she swears that, from a shadow, she sees a ball with a tail and cat ears leap off of the top of the elevator.

".. well shit." Overseer and Abyssal sigh, knowing full well with their respective powers it wouldn't even be a good idea to attempt breaking out.

They only hoped the Admins of the Hub worked fast.

○●•

"So.. your coding is the reason why you decided to let Blotch possess me?" Abyssal hums, sat beside Overseer. He hums also, nodding and sitting just close enough that Abyssal could, theoretically, just stretch her wing and have it rest over him..

Oh, wow, where did that come from? Her cheeks darken as she blushes.

"Mhm." Overseer sighs. "And I'm.. sorry about. It was stupid in hindsight, and we should've found a different way."

"Eh. I've been through worse." Abyssal shrugs, and Overseer decides to not comment on that.

Silence surrounds the two again before the Admin speaks. "Uh.. why do you keep your hood up all the time? I-If you feel okay answering!"

"It's.. fine." The Program looks down. "I.. I don't want others to use it against me. Before I met Blotch, I.. met someone who I thought I was capable of trusting."

He pulls his knees to his chest, and without much prior thought, Abyssal rests one of her wings over him. "And.. I showed them my face, despite the fact I shouldn't have. They.. used that against me. It made me think that I could never trust anyone again. Plus.. I.. don't look that good anyway."

"Yes, you do." Abyssal speaks, her voice soft yet firm. She carefully reaches and places a hand on his cheek, making Overseer jolt in surprise. However, she feels him lean into the touch. "Don't think of yourself that way, Overseer. I get it, someone betraying you when you thought you could trust them. But don't let that affect how you see yourself."

"I mean.. if you want my opinion.." She pulls her hand away, bashfully smiling with a dark blush on her cheeks. "Your freckles are adorable. They look like stars against a night sky."

Overseer hesitates before pulling down his hood, and Abyssal can see that he has a blush as dark as hers. While he avoids her gaze, she can hear some happiness in his voice. "I've.. never had it compared to that before."

"Well, now you have." Abyssal hums, glancing away.

Overseer opens his mouth to speak again but instead pulls up his hood when the elevator jolts, moves, and stops. The doors then open, and the two quickly stand up, walking out and looking at it.

"The hell?" Abyssal frowns. "What are all those gray blocks?"

Before she had time to question it anymore, the elevator disappeared.

She sighs and turns around, eyeing the portal command that no doubt leads to whoever took Root. "Well.." She summons her blades. "Here goes nothing."

"Want some help?" Overseer asks as chains form beside his hand.

Abyssal pauses to think before smiling. "Sure, why not?"

(Entropy blinks and sweats as she looks at the open portal command. Why was she so nervous lately?)

#admin: abyssal #sona: overseer #entropy the collector #fanfiction: my writing!#!posts!#i was so tired while writing this #gonna just go and pass out now

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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year

Text

A Long Overdue Conversation

Summary: Immediately after averting Ragnarok, Elowyn and Meredith are left to reflect on everything that’s just happened. Unfortunately for Elowyn, that means having a somewhat awkward conversation with one of her oldest friends.

Words: 2,264

Warnings: none at all. Fluffy fluff is fluffy (I mean, not unless you hate the idea of wlw)

Notes: A repost of the original work due to some minor editing and because I can't edit the tags of the old one. This might not be about romantic love (if I wanted that, I would have written something about Merri and her husband), but I still think it works for Valentine's day

Tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @sparrow-orion-writes , @blind-the-winds , @ashirisu

“They’re beautiful aren’t they?” The woodling’s voice was quiet with awe as she stared up at the clear night sky, the first Titan had seen in what felt like forever. The dwarf sitting beside her shifted a little, the heavy cotton of her vestments rustling and creaking as she tilted her head back,

“Aye.” she agreed, “I almost thought we were never gonna see a sight like this again.” she admitted, leaning back on her hands. The rest of their party had already departed to join the festivities taking place around the Plot Hook, leaving just Elowyn, Aurianna and Meredith to sit on the battlement of the North Outer Wall. Aurianna, currently in kitten form, was curled up on Elowyn’s lap, purring as she slept. Elowyn smiled, her fingers continuing to pet at the little cat as she looked up at the night sky,

“All things considered, I have to agree with you.” she said. She glanced over briefly to Meredith, but quickly returned her attention to the sky once more, her heart skipping at the sight of the smile on her old friend’s face. For her part, Meredith sighed wistfully,

“Ye ken, I used to wonder why my Uncle Snorri said he bowed oot of the celebrations immediately after the Demon War ended.” the dwarf shook her head, “Ach well, learned the lesson the hard way, yet again.” The two women sat in silence for a few moments, one appreciating the calm, if chilly night, the other-

Elowyn chewed her lip, fiddling with the necklace Meredith had given her following the dwarf's departure from Toreguarde after the battle with Darkhide. It had been ages since the two of them had just sat in each other’s company and, while there was so much that the woodling wanted to tell the dwarf, was it even appropriate to bring up now that so much had happened since? Especially now that she knew where Meredith’s heart truly lay?

~You may as well ask her.~ a tired voice echoed in Elowyn’s head. The woodling looked down at the kitten in her lap, which was now blinking blearily up at her. Elowyn scratched behind the kitten’s ear,

~Sorry Auri,~ she replied mentally, ~I didn’t mean to wake you.~ Aurianna shook her head slowly,

~I’m fine, but I meant what I said.~ the dragon’s voice stated, ~It’s clearly bothering you, so you might want to say something before you lose the opportunity.~

~And how do I do that without offending her exactly? It’s not going to be as simple as, ‘Hey, Merri, if Yoruk weren’t in the way, I’d totally have you instead’. That’s a one way ticket to getting Flamestruck.~ Aurianna rolled her eyes,

~I think Merri already knows how you feel about her.~ she pointed out, ~But if you don’t tell her what you’re thinking, or ask her what you really want to ask, you’re going to regret it.~ The golden kitten stretched and hopped off Elowyn’s lap,

“I’m going to go stretch my wings for a bit.” she announced, “Don’t stay out here too long, you two.” Elowyn glared at the cat as she sauntered off a little bit,

~And where do you think you’re going?~ she asked. Aurianna shook her body as she let her Polymorph drop and resumed her natural form. She swung her head around,

~I figured I’d give you girls a bit of privacy.~ The now dragon looked over to Meredith, who was now glancing between dragon and paladin with a somewhat amused expression while Elowyn made an interesting, strangled noise in her throat. The dwarf shrugged,

“We’ll be alright, hen.” she said, “Go an’ enjoy your flight. We’ll see ye back in town.” Aurianna bowed her head, winked at Elowyn and took off, a few stones crumbling loose from the wall at the motion. Elowyn huffed a sigh and glared up at the draconic form, which banked towards the centre of the city.

“Right, oot with it.” Meredith said, causing Elowyn to frown and look over at the dwarf. Meredith had her arms crossed over her chest and was staring at the woodling with an intensity that the latter hadn’t seen before. Elowyn cleared her throat and nervously tucked a strand of loose hair behind an ear,

“Out with what?” she asked, trying to feign some degree of ignorance. Meredith quirked an eyebrow,

“Elowyn, hen, you know that I can read ye more easily than a children’s storybook aye?” she sighed, “The dragon up and leavin’s also a bit of a giveaway.” Meredith waited, an amused smirk making its way onto her face as she watched Elowyn try to come up with some sort of excuse.

Elowyn mentally flailed as she tried and failed to come up with reason after reason to not talk about her thoughts and half-buried feelings for the dwarven cleric. Sure, she had fallen in love with the other woman some time ago- it was a little bit hard not to, she thought. The thing was, Meredith was completely off-limits, even if she hadn't actually said so until several months later. While brushing off the advances of a very insistent bard who had tried hitting on them both after he had been beaten to a pulp. True, Elowyn hadn't actually said anything to her, but that was a bit beside the point. Wasn't it?

“Can I not and say I did?” she finally muttered, glancing up at Meredith, whose expression had softened. The dwarf shook her head,

“I mean, I’ve got a reasonably good idea as to what’s on your mind, but ye’re as well talking about it.” she said, shifting so that she was sitting cross-legged and facing the woodling. Elowyn’s breath caught in her throat, surely Meredith didn’t actually know… right?

“Y-you do?” she asked hesitantly. Elowyn dithered nervously as Meredith half-rolled her eyes and clasped her hands in her lap,

“Elowyn, I’m neither blind nor deaf. I mean, you’ve met ma folks. I’d need to be both to not have had the slightest inkling of your feelin’s for me.” Meredith sighed a little and looked down at her hands, “Ach, this conversation is far too long overdue. My own fault really, but I just never found the time…” she trailed off and looked back up at Elowyn.

Elowyn shuffled around so she was facing Meredith more directly, her throat tightening on seeing the deeply sad look on her best friend’s face. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed Meredith’s hands in her own,

“No! Don’t go putting all the blame for this on yourself.” she protested, “I’m just as responsible for avoiding the topic for so long. Yes, I was incredibly disappointed when you announced that you were already engaged, but that doesn’t mean that you hold any responsibility for that.” She shook her head and squeezed Meredith’s hands to emphasize her point. Meredith looked up at the woodling, a melancholy smile on her face,

“Aye, well, I can’t help feeling that you think I might’ve led ye on a bit.” she admitted, “I’ve realised it tends to surprise folk when dwarves respond to those they care about with so much sincere passion and that it can be… misconstrued. Apparently we’re the only folk that have the concept o’ <<cridhe-dàime>>.” Elwoyn frowned as she tried to wrap her tongue around the word,

“Cree.. what now?” she asked, utterly perplexed as to what the dwarf in front of her was going on about. Meredith stifled a laugh,

“<<Cridhe-dàime>>.” she repeated, emphasising the relevant syllables, “It doesn’t have a real translation as such, it basically translates directly as ‘heart-kin’ in Common. Most folk assume we’re goin’ on about romantic soulmates when they hear us using the word. They tend to get offended if they don’t want to get involved romantically, or end up makin’ things really damn awkward if they do.”

Elowyn mulled the dwarf’s words over, the heartache she’d felt at the time that Meredith had announced she was out of bounds romantically had all but faded by now. The time and distance spent apart for so long having helped to ease it. She thought back to the time the two of them had spent travelling together. Slowly, she started to realise that yes, Meredith did indeed love her, just not in the way she’d first thought. The realisation made her heart soar in a way it hadn’t since that awful day in the catacombs in Khull, when Meredith and Enezeage had unexpectedly placed themselves between her and what seemed to be certain death. She waved a hand in front of the dwarf’s face to grab her attention, the latter staring off into the distance behind the woodling woman. Meredith quickly shook her head to clear it,

“Huh, aye?” she asked, cocking her head in curiosity. Elowyn smiled,

“I think I get it.” she said, “It’s not an entirely alien concept to me. I just never thought about applying it with us because…” she trailed off, flushing and gesturing at Meredith. Meredith smirked,

“Because ye fancied jumpin’ ma bones on more than one occasion?” she asked bluntly. Elowyn couldn’t help laughing at the proclamation, after all it wasn’t out of character for the dwarven woman. She nodded,

“Yeah, that.” she giggled, “I hope you’re not too put off.” Meredith waved a hand somewhat dismissively,

“Ach, it’s fine. Can’t say I blame ye over much; Yoruk’s told me more than once how damn sexy he finds me when I’m Flamestrikin’ things to death.” she said with her own laugh, “It’s not like I’ll turn down any other such compliments.” she added with a cheeky smirk and a wink. Elowyn gasped and shoved the dwarf back in mock offense,

“You’re absolutely incorrigible!” she cried, stifling a laugh, “Why, to even think such thoughts of a married woman is utterly scandalous! Whatever would your husband say?”

“He’d be ogling right alongside and agreeing with ye.” An amused voice stated from behind Elowyn. Elowyn froze at the sound of Yoruk’s voice, aware that, as Meredith had tumbled back, she’d pulled the woodling with her, placing the two women in a somewhat compromising position. She felt her face and ears burning as she got up and dusted down the front of her armour,

“Yoruk,” she squeaked, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you coming and -” Yoruk laughed heartily,

“‘Tis fine, ma Lady.” he soothed, holding up his hands, “I’d heard the two of ye were still sat here and was asked to fetch ye both by Lady Frigidwake.” Meredith pulled herself upright with a somewhat weary sigh,

“Probably wonderin’ why we’re not joining in with the festivities, no doubt.” she said. Yoruk shrugged, his pauldrons clanking against his breastplate at the motion,

“Most likely. The dear Lady was a little deep into her cup for me to work out any specifics.” Elowyn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose,

“Well, as long as she’s not firing off any spells. I don’t think Orrock wants to replace the roof yet again quite so soon.” Yoruk looked back in the direction of the Plot Hook as a distant ‘Boom!’ went off and a flash of red-orange light lit up the otherwise darkened streets,

“Aye, about that.” Elowyn groaned as she saw the light begin to flicker and heard a distant bellowing shout of ‘That’s it! You’re barred!’. Meredith lay a hand on Elowyn’s shoulder and squeezed it encouragingly,

“You take care of the fire and I’ll see if I can’t twist someone’s arm to set up an antimagic field.” she suggested. Yoruk looked between the two women,

“And what aboot me?” he asked. Meredith kissed his nose, even as she looped an arm around Elowyn’s waist,

“You can distract Orrock for us.” she stated simply, “Or at least stop him from murdering ma <<cridhe-dàime’s>> auntie.” Yoruk nodded and quickly fell into step next to Elowyn as the trio began to make their way through Toreguarde’s winding streets. Despite the situation, Elowyn couldn’t help but smile at the happy swell of contentment she felt as Meredith pulled her a little closer.

Eventually, everything was settled down. Selene was quickly escorted back to the Temple of Galana by a completely mortified Edwin, with promises to pay both for the fire damage and for the former Grand Magus’ bar tab. Meredith leaned her forehead on Elowyn’s as the crowd finally decided that it was best to start staggering home,

“You take care on the way home, aye? I don’t want to hear that ye got waylaid by any ne’er do wells in the mornin’.” Elowyn laughed,

“I don’t think they’d get a chance between Aurianna, Snotgrut and ‘Arry.” the woodling pointed out, “But the sentiment is appreciated.” Elowyn lifted her head and fixed Yoruk with a stern stare, “And you, mister! Make sure you get this one back safe as well. Never mind Merri’s family, I’ll never let you hear the end of it if anything happens to her.” Yoruk smiled widely and saluted,

“Aye, ma’am.” he stated, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she gets home safe.” Elowyn nodded and hugged Meredith tightly,

“I’m gonna miss you.” she murmured, “Let me know when things are fixed enough for me to visit, yeah?” Meredith nodded,

“Aye, hen, I will.” she said, “Mam and dad can’t wait to see you again either, so here’s hoping it’s not too long.” The two woman parted, though their hands and eyes lingered on each other for a little longer before they both finally let go and went their separate ways, Elowyn towards Acacia Avenue and Meredith towards the Northern Gatehouse.

#writing #aquadestinyswriting #elowyn o'toreguarde #meredith gruksdottir #yoruk bloodvein #aurianna #wlw #platonic soulmates #ttrpg fiction

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nekooru · 11 months

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Any headcannon about the Demon Slayer? I’ve always pictured him being protective of younger children, but I’m curious what your thoughts and headcannon are. Doesn’t have to be romantic, but it can include that, too

₊ ☾⋆ the demon hcs pt. 1 ⋆⁺₊⋆

the demon.

synopsis: mostly personality headcanons for the demon!!

tags: the demon, fluff, platonic, headcanons, maplestory

wc: 584

a/n: SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO POST THIS DDD: ily hope u enjoy<33 i had some more romantic hcs in mind but i think i'll save them for pt 2 :3

headcanon

˙⋆⁺₊⋆.

☾. the demon is much more of an observer than a force of energy when it comes to socializing— often times, he can be seen quietly enjoying conversations with others, even though he doesn't engage first. if you ask him why he's so quiet, he'll usually say something along the lines of "i just feel like i don't have anything interesting to add most of the time."

☾. despite the way his demonic appearance strikes fear in most adults, kids seem to be drawn to him anyway. pluckier children will run up to him and reach for his wings eagerly, and when the shyer children see his gentle reaction, they too wander over to fawn over him.

☾. he never minds the invasion of space when it comes to kids, and he doesn't hesitate to entertain their questions or comments. after all, it isn't often he receives unwarranted positive attention from strangers, and truth be told, he can't help but see the past innocence of his little brother in their happy expressions.

☾. perhaps subconsciously atoning for his past choices, he's a kind and selfless person to all manners of life. whether it's sparing some time to watch over edelstein's children while they play, fetching some water for a withering flower, or stopping by the butcher to buy tasty treats for the local stray cats (and mastema), the demon does good deeds without a thought.

☾. at some point, he made his peace with being alone for the rest of his life. but as the resistance's growing fondness for him became increasingly obvious, mastema's return, and the numerous friends within the alliance that basically adopted him, his heart swelled when he made the realization that he wasn't alone. more than that; he was cherished, too, and he decided that he would do anything to protect the family that chose him.

☾. when you first befriend him, it's endearing how socially awkward he is. you quickly learn that silences are aplenty, so you might as well make them comfortable, and it's best to directly ask him questions about himself, because he'll never talk about himself first. you don't mind that he doesn't talk a lot— the small smile that usually graces his lips during conversation tends to speak volumes.

☾. although you tried to steer your attention away from his wings at first, apprehensive of seeming rude, your curiosity couldn't help but burst at the most random of times.

you blinked a few times before the words seemed to slip out of your mouth without realizing. "can i touch your wings?" you quickly shrunk away, embarrassed at your thoughtlessness.

the demon seemed taken aback at the sudden request, but quickly offered a smile and nodded. "yes, of course," he assured.

with wonder in your eyes, you reached out carefully to stroke your hand over the bones of his wing. the skin was silky and smooth, and as your hand trailed down to the membrane, it felt stranger. it felt delicate, although you knew logically that it had to be sturdy to carry his weight and survive battle.

your focus shifted to the bottom of his wing, and you guessed he was watching your expression intently, because he extended his wing in a way that brought it up closer to you. your fingers brush against the scar tissue near the tatters, and his wings seemed to twitch somewhat at the sensation. you glance at his face, and he widens his smile, as if saying "it's okay."

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☾. like/reblog if you enjoyed the story !

masterlist: x

my dms are open if you’d like to chat maplestory/fics!! :>

#maplestory #maplestory hcs #the demon #maplestory demon slayer #maplestory fanfiction

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

Text

The Diary of Jane Doe - Part V

In honour of my lizard-envy of today and my recovering from a cold and a vicious panic attack yesterday, I'll let all of you have another chapter of this.

@melkors-big-tits she's growing into her role...

-> Part IV

Words: 1,4k

Warnings: Chaos

October 20th - Part III

More family heirlooms – this time in the form of her grandmother’s porcelain soup bowl – were defiled in the process of preparing the perfect bath for the demonic critters.

Melkor insisted on having a hot bath – with bubbles – that he’d graciously share with Mairon, who refused to undress in her presence. Thimbles were filled with the remnant of the previous night’s bubbly, and they were left to their own devices once hot water had been supplied to them.

Gothmog very politely asked for a literal fire to bask in and – taping shut her fire detectors – Jane got a cooking pot and filled it with girly magazines that were promptly set aflame by a gust of fire coming out of his maw. Jane simply shrugged; she had run out of gasps and shrieks for the day.

Worst of all, the bat demanded to be cleaned with a soft cloth and she was adamant that Jane do the honours; now, she had once read and hence knew that bats cleaned themselves as cats did but this one apparently deemed such an activity as being below her dignity and so Jane found herself wiping down fragile-looking wings as gently as she could.

This was – beyond a doubt – the longest day she had ever had, and she wondered what she’d do on the morrow when she was expected back to work. Would she come back home in the afternoon and find her building a smouldering heap of ashes? Probably.

“Where did you come from?” she asked under her breath as she dabbed Thuri dry carefully.

“You don’t want to know,” the bat replied in a surprisingly soft voice. “It’s a very long and sad story that we wouldn’t want to burden you with.”

“Ah,” Jane chuckled wryly, “the forces of evil never prevail, do they?”

The awkward shrug sent papery wings flying into Jane’s face and she gave yet another entirely unvoluntary, startled cry; by now, she was positively hoarse with all the screaming and screeching she had done in the last 24 hours.

“Sorry,” Thuri laughed and looked over at the roomy cage that had taken up a big corner of the living room, displacing a couch, a cabinet, and a tall lamp. “Oh, that is nice. Good night kiss?”

Jane made a face; nonetheless, she bowed her head and insinuated a kiss – mostly by making a smacking sound with her lips – in the general direction of the furry head of the creature before watching her fly away.

Then, like a good demon slave, she cooked a healthy dinner that was eaten on real miniature ceramic plates with much gusto.

“I approve,” Mairon declared haughtily and when Melkor wiped his mouth on a regular-sized napkin – swiping half their cutlery off the tiny table – Jane felt something that could almost be understood as pride.

She brushed Gothmog’s scales with a toothbrush that got badly singed in the process and washed the dishes – it was nice to have more than her one lonely plate to wipe – while humming to herself off-key.

The dollhouse had to be plugged in for the different miniature lights to work and so – in the middle of the night – Jane pushed and pulled her furniture around to get her table close enough to a socket to allow her guests every luxury their temporary home had to offer.

What had their life been like before? She truly wondered for – while Melkor was gnawing on something she didn’t care to identify – Mairon was fluffing up the pillows on the miniature bed with the crisp precision of the head nurse in a hospital.

Jane decided she would simply go to bed; she’d just leave them to do as they pleased. It would be easy. She’d just take her leave, and retreat.

Half an hour later, she sat on her bed and cradled her head in her hands as the realisation fully sunk in that her living room had been commandeered by four demons who had turned her boring, beige interior into a clashing chaos of an aviary, a terrarium, and a shockingly vandalised dollhouse. Her home was no longer her own; her time was not hers anymore either, her very possessions and body had been maimed and marked by them.

It had been just over 24 hours and she was already exhausted beyond what words could have described.

The tacks and cutter blades she had bought for them had mysteriously vanished and there was a black stain on her rug because of Melkor’s enthusiasm when it came to splashing his new room with paint rather liberally.

That was a problem she’d tackle when the sun was up, Jane decided, she was too tired to rifle through the dollhouse now with a flashlight and a prayer.

“JANE!”

She rushed back into the living room, fully prepared to see her whole furniture ablaze, and stood there panting and light-headed with fear for a long moment.

“You won’t take steps to get rid of us, right?” Melkor was rocking on his heels, his hair swirling around him in a breeze that didn’t exist. “We have been good, haven’t we?”

If this was good, Jane mused, then she didn’t want to know what bad was.

“She won’t,” Mairon hissed in a menacing tone, getting up from where he had been sitting on the first floor of their dollhouse and somersaulting onto the table gracefully. “Here’s the deal, lady, we were – so to say – in ‘time-out’ before you summoned Melkor and we have to find a way to make sure that, when we are sent back to our world, we don’t end up there again.”

Every alarm bell rang in Jane’s head, red flags were waving, and trumpets were blaring…she nodded; she even smiled as if the idea of helping a bunch of evil creatures plan their jailbreak was no big deal.

“We’ll come with you to work,” Melkor susurrated.

“To keep an eye on you,” Mairon added darkly.

“You’ll see, we’ll help!” the Dark Lord simply went on forcefully as if his second-in-command had not uttered yet another ominous threat; it seemed understood that this was simply his way of communicating. “Is there anything you desire?”

Sitting down on a charred chair, Jane twirled one strand of lanky hair around her finger listlessly before admitting that she had the most pathetic crush on a man working in the next cubicle.

“What is he like?” Thuri asked sleepily from where she hung – upside-down – in her spacious new home.

“He’s a cute ginger? I don’t know; I’ve not talked to him much before,” Jane supplied; she was – as were most mediocre people – just this side of shy and painfully aware of how inferior her conversational skills were.

“Ah,” Melkor sighed as if he knew exactly what she was talking about, “we can assist with that.”

She highly doubted that they could, but she had tried self-help books, mindfulness apps, and the odd palm-reading session before so she considered giving literal occult forces a try to be but a small leap.

“We’ll come up with something,” Mairon grinned, and his sweet face morphed into a mask of determined, single-minded purpose such as it was rarely beheld outside of nightmares; Jane certainly had never seen anything half as frightening as this seemingly beautiful, innocuous thing.

“Well, I have to go to bed now,” Jane yawned. She couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

As soon as she was back in her own room – door ajar for safety reasons – she realised another dreadful fact: they were nocturnal and the sounds reaching her ears could mean but one of two things, either they had found a way to turn on the TV and get to the locked programs or they were having an orgy on her dinner table.

She didn’t have to know; she didn’t want to know.

This was her punishment for stupidly dabbling in the dark arts and – despite her fatigue and despondency – she had to snigger as she considered how a smarter, stronger, more ambitious person might have been jubilant to be in her shoes.

Of all the people in the world, there was nobody less prone to carrying around four unholy demons than that little, silly, easily dismissed wallflower, Jane Doe.

And yet…

Next up, Jane is taking her monsters to work...

Flirting while literally saddled with demons...

It's written and ready, I am just in a posting slump once more :(

-> Part VI

#fanfiction #crack #Mini-Melkor #check out Melkor (the user)'s drawings #Conjuring bad forces #and fumbling it #Worst OC in the world #the silm #the silmarillion #very much not serious #when an idea takes hold #and now you're writing a sitcom about mini-melkor

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steele-soulmate · 2 years

Text

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 27, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault

WORDS: 2379

“Sweetheart?” Peter asked me as he was pulling out of his parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, his other hand resting on my popped out stomach. “Do you want to go to urgent care? You’ve been through a traumatic experience- are you sure little girl’s alright?”

He got his answer in the form of a strong kick right where his hand was positioned over my tummy.

“I really want to sleep,” I answered drowsily, interlacing our fingers together. “And tomorrow I can call da and ask him if it’ll be alright if I stay home from set up tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “I’m sorry, but I just need to call my sister real quick.”

“Which one?” I asked as he dialed.

“Cathy,” he explained. “She looks after my apartment while I’m out.”

“Hey there, baby brother!” a woman answered the other line. I felt awkward as Peter greeted his sister.

“Mary Claire was assaulted tonight so I’m going to crash at her place tonight in case she needs anything,” he explained.

“Oh no! Is she alright? Is the baby alright?” Cathy asked.

“Hi Cathy,” I greeted her. “I’ll be bruised tomorrow, but other than that I should be fine.” I saw Peter glanced at me before cupping my cheek. “Physically, I’ll be okay. The bruises will heal.”

“It’s not the bruises that I’m worried about,” Peter muttered. “Hey Cathy, can I ask you a favor?”

“Say no more Peter,” Cathy said. “You take care of your girl and I’ll look after your kids.”

“Kids?” I interrupted, peering at my soulmate with squinted eyes. “You never said anything about having kids.”

“Smokey, Felix and Mittens,” Peter told me, a small smile on his face.

“What is up with kids getting oddball names these days?” I scowled. “High school is going to be horrible for them, the poor things.”

Peter and Cathy both started to laugh as my soulmate pulled out his phone and flipped to the photos, where he tapped on one before handing it over to me.

“Oh, you’re a crazy cat daddy!” I exclaimed at the sight of three young cats. One was a dark smokey grey, the second was black with white socks and the third had a patchwork quilt like pattern on its fur.

“Get off my lawn, you darned kids!” Peter joked, getting another laugh from his sister. “No really sweetheart, I grew up with cats- it’d just be weird not to have a cat.”

“Oh,” I smiled. “Gideon- my older brother, he once found a cat while walking home from school and he puts the poor kitty into his backpack. He gets home tells mom that Mr. Patches followed him home.”

Peter laughed again before being cut off by a “MEOW” that came from Cathy’s end.

“Sorry, that was Felix,” she apologized.

“KITTY!” I gasped with excitement, clapping my hands together.

“Felix wants me to tell you that he misses his daddy to pieces right now,” Cathy said in a motherly tone of voice.

“How’d you figure that out?” Peter asked.

“Well, Felix is sitting by the front door crying,” Cathy said point blank.

“Poor kitty,” I cooed softly, wincing as little girl punched my insides. Peter automatically began to rub calming circles into my stomach, successfully calming little girl down.

“Take it easy in there, won’t you now, little girl? Mommy has had quite the night,” Peter chuckled quietly, rolling to a stop at a red light and leaning over to place a kiss onto my stomach.

“Peter, do you want me to drop off some clothes for you at her place for you?” Cathy then asked.

“Uh…” Peter glanced over at me.

“Sure, the address is 6578 Sweetwater Lane, suite number 382, and it’s in Upper East Side, zip code 90012,” I rattled off to her. “I can text it to you, if you need.”

“Oh, no need!” Cathy said. “I got it right here- 6578 Sweetwater Lane, suite number 382, 90012, right?”

“That’s me!” I grinned. “I’ll tell the front desk to let you up when I land, okay?”

“Great, thanks!” The three of us chit chatted for a few more minutes before Cathy had to say goodbye. The second she hung up, my chest was tightening again. I let out a little gasp, my hand flying back up to my heart.

“Sweetheart?” I could practically see the worry in Peter’s voice as he turned onto Sweetwater Lane.

“I’m fine,” I panted. He didn’t look convinced as he turned into the parking lot. The next thing I knew he was carrying me through the front door, Jackie looking on worriedly as I curled up into Peter’s arms.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he murmured as he dropped me onto my bed. “I’ll be back in a minute, yeah?”

“Please don’t leave me!” I begged, latching onto his wrist and trying to drag him back into me. He sighed before kicking off his boots and crawling into bed with me, wrapping his strong arms around me as I snuggled into his side.

“I got you sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “You’re safe now.”

~xoXox~

I drifted in and out of sleep for the next several hours. Peter only got up to use the bathroom and to grab a snack- I also heard him talking to Jackie and Sammi, probably telling them what had happened during our first date. At one point, he came back into my bedroom, dressed for sleep in sweatpants and an oversized shirt. I just sat up and reached under my pillow for my nightdress.

“Peter, can you help me dress for bed?” I asked him. He nodded, approaching the bed and held his hands at the ready. I began to unbutton my dress before letting him take over. He at last had me in only my bra and underwear, but he kept his respectful green eyes on my face as I reached around to undo my bra. I sighed with relief as my bra slipped off and I held my arms up for my nightdress to be slipped over my head.

“Peek a boo,” he teased me when my head had popped out of the neck hold. I giggled, pulling the rest of the nightdress down, sighing as the soft cotton kissed my skin.

“I see you,” I rhymed to him with a little smile.

“Hey sweetheart, are you hungry?” Peter wanted to know. “I think Jackie is making burgers.”

“I’ll try to eat,” I muttered. “My body is still in ‘fight or flight’ mode, so anything I eat will probably come right back up again.”

“Fuck,” Peter sighed, scooping me into his arms and exiting my bedroom. I only let out a soft coo as I rested my ear over his heart, losing myself in the beat.

THUD THUMP

Sure enough, Jackie was in the kitchen while Sammi lounged on the couch, her sketchbook and colored pencils in hand. Both sisters looked up as Peter entered the common area, sitting himself in the armchair with me in his lap still.

“Is this okay, sweetheart?” he asked in a soft voice, his nose gently tracing the mermaid tattoo behind my ear. I only whimpered out a meek little “Yes” in response before straddling his lap and curling into him.

“Hey MC, since you and Peter will be staying home from set up tomorrow, do you have anything in mind that you want to do?” Sammi asked kindly, trying to start up a conversation.

“Bake some more bread, maybe watch a movie or two?” I shrugged.

“What movie do you want to watch, sweetheart?” my soulmate murmured gently, his hands rubbing calming patterns into my back.

“Disney Pixar’s Monster Inc,” I answered automatically. “It’s a really cute movie. And maybe Tangled…”

“I haven’t seen those movies yet, sweetheart,” he informed me as Jackie came over with a bowl.

“Chicken noodle broth,” she announced. “It’s the only thing our big sister can keep down following a panic attack.”

“Come here now sweetheart,” Peter cooed, taking the bowl and beginning to feed me. I just sank into the love he was showing me, humming in content as he spoon fed me. My hands were fisted into his hair, my eyes closed as I slipped into a half awake, half asleep state of mind.

A knock sounded at the door and Sammi jumped up.

“I got it!” she announced, skipping over to the front door and opening it. “Hello?”

“You must be Mary Claire,” greeted the woman on the other side of the door. “I’m Cathy, Peter’s sister.”

“Uh, I’m Sammi, actually,” my baby sister corrected her. “Won’t you come in?”

“Hey,” Peter whispered, setting the bowl off to the side and adjusting me to a more comfortable resting position. “How’s things?”

“Uh…” Cathy stalled, shifting between Sammi and I as my baby sister collected the broth bowl and took it into the kitchen to be stuck into the dishwasher.

“OUT OF THE KITCHEN!” Jackie yelled, chasing Sammi out of the kitchen. “I swear, if you’re not going to bother learning how to cook, you don’t belong in the kitchen!”

“Alright, alright, keep your hair on, I was bussing MC’s broth bowl!” Sammi yelped as she hid behind Cathy. “Don’t kill the busser! Besides, you don’t chase MC out of the kitchen!”

“Because I know what the difference is between the cheese grater and a serving spoon is,” I deadpanned, deciding to alert everyone to being awake. “How long was I out for?”

“About forty minutes,” Jackie called out from the kitchen. “Do you want more?”

“No thanks,” I called, cuddling into Peter more, resting a hand onto my stomach and cooing as I felt little girl moving around.

“Are you alright in there, little girl?” Peter murmured, also placing his hand on my stomach.

“Hey Peter, where can I put your stuff?” Cathy asked, holding up a small duffle bag.

“I can put it on your bed, alright MC?” Sammi announced, taking the bag and bouncing off without waiting for a response.

I remained quiet as I listened to Peter and Cathy talking about random things- Cathy’s daughter, who had completed her residency and was now a full-fledged doctor at Lincoln Memorial, family get togethers of the past, prank wars that Peter instigated in his youth, among other things. I wasn’t paying much attention, drifting in and out of restless sleep as I nestled in the safety of my soulmate’s arms.

I woke up a while later to Peter placing me back into my bed, pulling the blanket up over me before climbing in. I made a soft noise as he maneuvered me onto his lap.

“Sweetheart?” Peter murmured, his hand on my shoulder. “Can I see your tattoos, please?”

I stood and slipped out of my nightdress, baring my near nude body for his gaze and his gaze alone. I stepped between his knees and took his large hands into mine. I took a deep inhale of breath before looking into his emerald green eyes.

He touched my right hip, where the words “Once Upon a Time…” were written in fancy calligraphy. He then switched over to the other side, where his spider tattoo rested. His eyes darted up to the right side of my collarbone, where the words “I’m Not an Angel…” were written. Next, he picked up my left wrist and admired the charm bracelet that was tattooed onto my skin with charms such as Rapunzel’s lantern, Eeyore’s tail, Dumbo’s feather, Tinker Bell’s wings, the enchanted rose, Snow White’s poisoned apple and Cinderella’s glass slipper were inked dangling from the bracelet. He glanced up at my arm and ran his finger across the watercolored Rapunzel on my bicep, smiling as he compared the inking to his own soulmark. His eyes darted up to my soulmark of a heavy masculine bald eagle on my right arm and a panther on my left. Peter’s eyes darted down to my thighs, where he carefully fingered the mermaid scales on the right side. He then looked to my right arm, where there was a mermaid tattoo, also done in a watercolor style. He turned me around and placed a hand on the angel wings that decorated my back, dragging his fingers down to tickle the butterfly that rested just underneath the feathers. His hand then went up to my shoulders, where there were dual tattoos that matched each other perfectly; they were from Tangled, the one on the right shoulder was the sun motif and the others on the left were a grouping of three floating lanterns. He finally yanked me closer to him where he pushed back the red curls from my left ear to admire the mermaid stamped behind my ear.

“Fuck,” he murmured, turning me again so that I was now facing him. “You’re perfect.” He took my hands into his and kissed the tattooed backsides of them, resting his cheek on the alpha symbol.

“I’m far from perfect,” I whispered, amused by how affectionate he was being towards me. I suddenly got an idea- I pushed him flat onto the bed and climbed into his lap before smuggling under his baggy shirt and popping my head out the neck.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asked as I shifted, already feeling comfortable with how close my soulmate was to me.

“I’m cold,” was all that I said before kissing him. “Good night.”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

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PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@starchild0985

#Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Josh #Kenny Hickey #Johnny Kelly #Mary Claire Bradley (OFC)#Peter Steele #Type O Negative #Heavy metal #Soulmate AU #Age gap romance #Smut #Matching tattoos soulmate AU #Tattoos #Mentions of child rape (nothing graphic)#PTSD #Milk kink #Soft smut #Grinding #Assault

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