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aerynwrites · 6 months

Text

Bound by The Heart (And Other Things)

Dammon x Afab!Reader

A/N: yeah uh…I don’t even have a reason for this other than I have my own personal HC that Dammon would be into bondage lmao. But like…the pretty kind. Hope y’all enjoy :3

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! NSFW. Smut, PiV sex, cunnilingus, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex, bondage, rope bondage, restraints, discussions of a safe word but it;s never used, aftercare, fluff.

The weathered leather book is heavy in your hands as you examine the title.

A Pleasurable Deal.

The text immediately strikes you as one you’ve seen before, and heat rushes to your cheeks when the memory of a banned books list in Sorcerous Sundries comes to the front of your mind.

You remember Gale lamenting the list, saying no texts - no matter how obscene - should never be banned.

You hadn’t given much thought to the list until now, as the book sits in your hands. And the fact that you found it hidden away in Dammon’s side table.

Despite having been with the blacksmith for months now, you’d never seen this specific tome. Either because it was a new item he’d acquired or…a well loved one he'd kept hidden away.

You’re assuming it’s the latter if the worn corners of the leather cover and the bent pages have anything to say.

You move to put the book back, not wanting to intrude on your partners privacy, but as you move to slide it back into place, another book catches your eye. This one tucked behind several other blacksmithing texts.

It looks rather ornate, the black binding inlaid with gold colored trimmings.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re already reaching for the book, fingers sliding along the smooth cover and pulling it from its place.

Your eyes fall to the cover, eyes widening as you read the title.

A Madam's Guide to Pleasure.

The cover falls open before you can think better of it, your eyes immediately flicking to the small piece of paper sticking out from a section farther into the book. You yearn to flip to that page first, but your eyes instead fall to scan the table of contents.

Your face gets even hotter as you read over the various section titles. Everything from the basics when it comes to sex to the more debauched.

Finally, you flip the pages to where the paper sticks out, only to have a few pieces of folded parchment fall into your lap to reveal the title of the section they were tucked into.

‘Bondage’

The otherwise wicked ideal behind the term is hidden by the pretty flowing script on the page. Your eyes follow the words easily, slowly feeling your heart rate pick up as you take in the text.

You’ve only made it halfway through the section when you remember the papers that fell into your lap. Setting the book down gently and open to the page you left off, you reach down and unfold the pages.

The first thing you feel is shock followed by a sudden stab of arousal as you take in the charcoal images sketched onto the pages.

It’s Dammon’s work, you’d be able to tell his artistry from anywhere thanks to the hundreds of sketches he’s shown you of blacksmithing plans.

But these…these are not blueprints of swords or daggers or armor. No…

These sketches are something else entirely. Light and dark lines coming together as he depicts various different types of bondage scenarios.

None of the pictures are lewd in anyway besides their obvious connotation. In a way…they’re quite beautiful.

You see the vague shape of a body, legs tied together with an intricate weave of rope and knots, as if it’s meant to decorate the wearer rather than restrain them.

Almost all of the drawings seem that way, the rope and bindings tied and wrapped in a way that’s almost artistic.

The one that catches your eye the most though, is a page that depicts the front and back view of a woman kneeling and sitting on her heels.

The sketch of her from behind shows her hands bound behind her back, the ropes binding her arms together in an intricately woven pattern that spans from her wrists all the way up to just beneath her shoulders.

The other view seems to be part of the same design, the ropes snaking to the front of her body, twining delicately over her breasts, sternum and chest in complicated knots and patterns.

You’ve just reached up to trace your finger over the sketchings of rope, when a startled call of your name rips you from your reverie.

“What are you doing?”

Dammons voice is raised louder than he usually speaks to you, face several shades darker than usual as he practically lunges for the items in your hands, a look of utter fear and panic on his face.

“Oh, gods,” he mutters, hastily collecting the papers before shoving them back into the black bound novel. “You weren’t supposed to see that, I-“

“Dammon it’s okay! I promise-“

He turns to you then, book clutched tightly in his hands, as he looks at you with something none other than utter betrayal. “Why were you going through my things?” He asks.

You shake your head, heart sinking to your stomach and dispelling any feelings of arousal the drawings drew forth.

“I didn’t mean to, I came up here looking for one of my books and I saw you stored some in here and so I thought-“

“You thought you’d go through my books instead?” He asks, voice now tinged with accusation as he stands, the book still clutched tightly in his hands.

“I’m sorry Dammon,” you say from your position still kneeled on the floor. “I didn’t mean to upset you-“

“I-I’m not upset, I-“ the tiefling cuts himself off, running a hand down his face as he lets out a sigh, avoiding your gaze. “I just…need some air.”

You watch helplessly as Dammon turns and leaves the bedroom, a pit of guilt stirring deep in your belly.

————

Dammon spends the rest of the day in the forge, which isn’t unusual, but it feels like an intentional choice today. One you don’t begrudge him considering you snooped through his personal things.

It’s well into the evening before he comes into the house, and you’re just finishing up dinner. You watch him between plating your meals as he hangs up his blacksmith apron next to the door before heading to the water basin to wash his hands.

You’ve just placed the last of the food onto your plates when he approaches you, taking one of the plates from your hands with a quick kiss to your cheek.

A small weight is lifted from your shoulders at that small action, and you follow him silently to the kitchen table, taking your habitual seat to his right side.

The meal is pleasant enough, you tentatively asking about his forge projects and feel the tension lift as he tells you about them. It goes on like that - like normal despite the nagging in your mind.

You don’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up the earlier incident. But you also don’t want to leave it how it was. You owe him an apology, a real apology, and…there’s something else you want to talk to him about too.

You finally find the courage to bring it all up as you and Dammon clean up after dinner, you drying the washed dishes as Dammon puts them away.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Dammon,” you say softly, not missing the way his shoulders tense as he takes a plate from you, eyes avoiding yours once more.

“It’s…It’s alright,” he says with a sigh. “I’m not angry or upset with you, not over something so trivial. I was just…” he lets out a dry chuckle. “I supposed I’m a bit embarrassed for you to have come across such things. I know they aren’t…Common desires.”

He’s still turned away from you when he finishes, stashing the last dish before his hands fall to his sides. You immediately reach for him, taking his hand in your own as you urge him to face you.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you tell him, feeling that familiar heat creep up into your cheeks as you contemplate your next words.

“I actually…Liked them. The drawings, I mean.”

Dammon’s eyes finally snap to yours then, bright blue iris’ completely visible to you as he stares at you wide eyed, mouth slightly agape.

“You…what?”

You take your lip between your teeth coyly, courage slowly building up in your chest as you move to slip your arms around his waist, hands resting on his low back as returns the lose embrace.

“I liked them,” you repeat. “It looked…beautiful really. The intricate designs and knots and I…”

You pause then, shyness creeping in one more as you look up at your lover.

“I think I’d like to try it sometime. If that’s - if you’d want too, of course.”

You can practically see the way Dammon’s heart rate picks up, cheeks darkening with blush as his breath stutters.

“You’d…You’d try that? With me?”

A small chuckle slips past your lips. “I hope it’s with you.”

In an answer of his own, Dammon captures your lips with his in a fierce kiss. It’s needy and desperate and filled with a relief only you can understand as he pulls you tighter to him.

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips before pulling down to trail kisses down your jaw. “We can’t do it tonight,” he says. “I need to prepare.”

You try to hide the small swell of disappointment, but Dammon must sense it anyways, nipping at the spot just below your ear as he tugs you closer to his body.

“I’m still going to ravish you tonight though. For making me the happiest man in Baldur’s Gate.”

You smile, pulling him up for another kiss before he whisks you upstairs. Anticipation for tonight and what’s to come in the future simmering low in your belly.

—————

It’s only a few days later when Dammon brings it back up, asking if tonight you’d like to try what you all had discussed. When you agreed, a bit too eagerly, he had just let out a small laugh before laying out all of the boundaries.

He had you pick a safeword in case you wanted out of the restraints, as well as asking you about anything you’d be uncomfortable with. In the end you’d just told him you trusted him completely and once again stated your excitment.

Which led you here, blindfolded on the edge of your shared bed in nothing but your smallclothes.

Dammon had tied the soft silk fabric around your eyes before leaving the room to fetch something, asking that you not remove the blindfold before he got back. You obeyed easily, but as the seconds turn into minutes, you feel yourself start to grow impatient.

What is taking him so long?

Your fingers twitch against your skin from where your hands sit on your thighs before moving to be by your side instead, toying with the soft sheets beneath you. Every creak and faint footstep has your ears perking up, waiting in anticipation for Dammon to return.

Finally, you hear his familiar footsteps coming up the stairs and to your shared room, the floor boards creaking beneath his weight. His steps are softer than when he left, the sound of bare soles on the wood greeting your ears as he approaches your position.

He must have taken off his shoes. And you silently hope he took off other things as well, wanting to feel him at least a little bit before you're restrained.

“Are you still alright?” he asks, his voice much closer than you anticipated.

You jump slightly as you realize he’s right in front of you now, and you can feel the subtle heat radiating from his body. You nod, reaching out instinctively to touch him.

He allows it, sighing lightly when your hands bump against his bare stomach, flattening against the taut muscle there before sliding upwards. You can feel the faint ridges and bumps unique to his skin as you continue upwards, gliding over his chest before coming back down again, mapping him in your blinded state. You only stop when your fingers meet rough fabric - the waistband of his pants.

You hear the faint sound of his tail brushing the ground intermittently, and you can’t help but smile as your fingers curl beneath the band of his pants. But before you can get any further, familiar calloused hands stop your own, pulling you away from his skin.

“If you do that, I’m afraid we won’t accomplish what we planned to do tonight,” he says breathlessly.

You are still amazed that such simple touches drive him crazy, but you can’t help but relish in it, because you feel the same anytime Dammon touches you. As if your body can’t get enough.

Tonight might be the night that it does.

“Can you give me your hand?” he asks, and you hear him rustling around with something.

“Of course.”

You offer him your hand and he takes it, turning it palm up and placing a long thin object in your palm. He curls your fingers round it, and when he offers no complaint, you reach up with your other hand to further investigate what it could be.

“It’s the rope I’m going to use,” he informs you as your fingers trail along the braid material. “It’s…This is why we had to wait. I had to find someone who…dealt with these kinds of things.”

You let out a small hum as you run the rope through you hands, and you slowly begin to understand what he means. It’s smoother than any rope you’ve ever used, so smooth in fact that it feels like silk. It’s sturdy too, not too thick but not so thin it will dig uncomfortably into your skin if it gets tight. It’s like it was created for this purpose alone.

And perhaps it was.

You’re no stranger to the more debacuhed happenings in the city. Hells - you’ve been inside Sharess’ Caress. They probably use rope like this in abundance there.

“It’s so…soft,” you say finally, reaching out to offer the rope back to him.

“Yes I…” He trails off for a moment before continuing. “This isn’t supposed to be painful,” he informs you, and you feel the bed dip beside you, his voice shifting to your right side. “It can be of course but…Not tonight. It’s more about the control I suppose. The art of it.”

You nod as you feel a warm hand settle on your hip. “That makes sense. The drawings I saw were beautiful in a way and also…” you trail off, heat creeping into your cheeks. “Let’s just say I was never put off by the idea once I saw it.”

You can hear the way Dammon’s breath catches, his nails digging into the flesh of your hip ever so slightly. “I should have suggested it sooner, it seems.”

You smile, leaning in to where you think his body is. “You should have.”

He lets out a sigh, and you feel the way it brushes against your temple as he speaks.

“Well…We’re here now,” he says, slowly dragging his hand from your hip up your back before settling on your shoulder. “Are you ready for me to start?”

You let out a breath of your own, anticipation bubbling in your veins as you shift in your place, eager to get started. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Slowly and with whispered instructions he guides you so your are on your knees on the bed, sitting on your heels as you face away from him. Once you’re in position his fingers skim up to unhook the clasps of your bra, sliding it gently from your shoulders before tossing it somewhere off to your left.

“If you wanted me naked you could have just said so,” you tease, smiling when it earns youa chuckle from teh man behind you.

“That ruins the fun,” he says, and you finally feel the cool slide of rope against your arms. “This is…a lot of this is about the anticipation,” he tells you, breath ghosting over your ear as he gently guides your arms into position behind your back. “The gentle touches, the slow act of tying the rope, the build of what’s to come…”

He has you bend your arms behind your back, forearms almost crossing as he starts to slide the rope beneath them, wrapping it over just a few times before starting to tie the first knot, securing your arms together.

He continues like that for long agonizing moments. The cool rope sliding against your heated skin as he pulls, tugs, and knots the smooth cord into a masterpiece only he can see. The design soon travels from your forearms upwards above your elbows, as he begins to connect your arms together once more. He threads the rope beneath your right arm, hands ghosting across your back as he brings it over to your left, looping it over your bicep and back again, creating an intricate set of loops and ties that secure your arms behind you further, pulling your shoulders back to just the bare edge of discomfort.

Dammon was right. This is about the anticipation.

Because with each slide of the rope, with each brush of his fingers or ghost of his lips on your skin, you feel a new pang of arousal pool in your core. You shudder with each pass of the cord on your skin, breath hitching with each knot he tugs into place.

And Dammon, who’s never known to keep his hands from you for too long, can’t help but to touch you in between. His sharp nails ghosting along your skin, kisses pressed to your shoulder as he mutters words of praise…you can feel yourself getting wet already, and he’s barely even touched you. Not in the way you desire most, at least.

A whimper slips past your lips when he finally pulls away from you, the last piece of rope in place agasint your arms. But his absence doesn’t last long before he’s back again, his arms snaking around you as a new rope presses against the delicate skin of your lower belly.

“Are you still alright?” he asks, warm breath ghosting over your cheek as his head comes up beside yours to look down at your exposed body. His chin tucks perfectly against your shoulder as he presses a kiss to your cheek, waiting patiently for you to answer before he continues.

When you do find your words, they come out small, a mere gasp on your lips.

“Yes,” you assure him. “I just…wish you would touch me. I didn’t…this is more than i expected.”

You feel him tense behind you, his hands stilling. “We can stop at anytime-”

“No!” you almost shout, leaning back into your lover in a silent plea. “Please, don’t stop. I only meant…I didn’t expect to react so strongly to just this.”

Dammon clicks his tongue, letting out a low hum of understanding as his hands start to move again, the rope sliding softly against your skin.

“If it makes you feel any better…” Dammon trails off, wrapping the rope around your front again, allowing him to press himself against your back, the hardness of him pressing into your low back. “It’s having the same affect on me.”

His words, and the feeling of him hard as steel pressing into your skin is enough to send another bolt of pleasure through you. You expect him to pull away to continue his work, but he does no such thing, instead aiming to stay pressed as close to you as possible as he works on his art.

Each moment feels agonizing as he slowly winds the ropes up your body, fingers braiding and knotting the pieces together, fingers brushing against your skin, but never doing much more.

Your breath leaves you in shallow pants, and you can’t help it when you press your hips back into his own, desperate for any kind of touch, any friction to sooth the ache simmering in your veins.

A small groan leaves Dammons lips, and you feel a small tug the the ropes around your arms. “We’ll get there,” he whispers, leaning down to brush a tender kiss to your shoulder. “You’re doing so well, my love. I’m almost done.”

You fight to hold back the whine that threatens to slip past when his lips retreat from your skin, but you do, instead moving to lean back against him as he looks back over your shoulder once more to see his work.

You can feel the way the cords constrict around you, knotting in the center of your body as it travels upwards and spans out to wrap over your ribs and around your back. Soon enough you can feel them start to settle beneath your breasts. His hands barely brush the plush mounds as he ties a secure knot between them before taking the two ends up and over your collarbones to secure at the back of your neck.

He ties the last knot, a quiet sigh of admiration leaving him as his hands skim over his work, calloused palms ghosting over your skin.

You feel the bed shift, his warmth leaving your back. You wonder for a moment if he’s leaving again, but you continue to feel him move, until you think he settles in front of you on the plush mattress. The bed creaks softly as he settles, and despite the blindfold, you can feel his eyes boring into you, admiring his work much like he does that which he produces in the forge.

Dammon is a lot of things, and a proud man is one of them.

He’s never boastful or arrogant. But he loves his work - he’s always proud of what he can accomplish. And it seems that extends to you as well.

You don’t flinch when his hand settles on your cheek, thumb brushing the skin their gently, as he continues to admire you.

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, his other hand coming up to cup one of your breasts gently.

A gasp slips past your lips as he runs a thumb over the stiff peak of your nipple, nails scratching the sensitive skin deliciously as he pulls away to trail further down your body. He traces the ropes he tied into place, fingers slipping beneath them every now and again to tug gently.

“Is it-“ another gasp interrupts you as his hands slide down to brush over your thighs instead. “Is it everything you imagined?”

Dammon leans forward then, his hands slipping around your hips as his lips fall to your shoulder before trailing down lower to nip sharp teeth at your collar bone.

“It’s even better,” he breathes. “You’re more magnificent than anything my mind could conjure up.”

A moan leaves you as his mouth finally reaches your breast, his teeth scarping against the sensitive swell before taking a pert nipple between his lips.

“Oh, gods…” you gasp, arms tugging at the rope as you instinctively want to reach up to cradle his head in your hands.

But the restraints keep you in place, completely at his mercy as he continues to lavish your skin with praises and gently love bites.

You’re burning up now, blood boiling in your veins and desperate for anything Dammon wishes to give you. Something he seems to sense as both arms move to slip around your back as he gently lowers you to lay back on the bed, his lips traveling lower the whole way.

Your arms are trapped beneath you in this new position, adding to the arousal pooling in your belly as you lay completely open and bare for the man before you.

His teeth tug at the rope around your hips, hands moving to spread your legs so he can settle between them.

“Are you still alright, my love?” He asks, fingers creeping slowly up your inner thighs.

Gods you love him. You really do. But in this moment you want nothing more than for him to ravish you, to tear you completely apart before putting you back together again.

He can be sweet later. Right now, you want him to fuck you.

“Yes, yes, Dammon I’m fine,” you assure him, bucking your hips up into his hands. “Just please…fuck me. I cant wait any longer.”

You would usually be embarrassed by blatantly begging like this, but the feel of Dammons mouth on your wet center removes any and all thoughts but him from your mind.

His tounge parts your folds running up to tease the small bundle of nerves that sends bolts of pleasure through you.

You squirm in Dammon’s steel grip, your back arching as he devours you, his fingers digging into your thighs, nails no doubt going to leave behind evidence of his hold on you come morning.

His name falls from your lips in a lewd prayer, as you buck your hips up into his mouth, seeking more despite the way his tongue moves ravenously against you.

You feel his hands slide up to the rope around your hips, fingers slipping beneath the cord as he uses it to tug you closer to him, as if he wishes to drown in you.

His nose nudges at your clit as his tounge prods your entrance, desperate to taste you, his moans sending vibrations through you that make that coil in your belly pull impossibly taut.

“Fuck,” cry out when he slides one hand to rub expect circles on your clit. “Dammon, I’m close I-“

An expert flick of his fingers cuts off your warning, sending you hurtling over the edge into oblivion as Dammon continues to work you through it.

Incoherent babbles of his name fall from your lips until you finally say back into the bed, chest heaving and legs twitching as Dammon continues to lick at you, certain to leave nothing behind.

You want to push him away, but without the use of your hands, you squeeze your thighs around his shoulders gently, urging him away from you.

He obeys with a small sigh, his hand sliding up your body, as his lips follow suit, leaving a moist trail of kisses in his wake before he’s finally pressing them to the underside of your jaw.

“You’re doing so well, my love,” me mutters against your skin, fingers toying idly with the smooth cord beneath your breasts.

You smile as you turn your head to capture his lips with your own, tasting yourself on his tounge before pulling away just enough to speak.

“Can you…Will you take the blindfold off?”you ask. “I’d like to see you.”

Dammon lets out a low hum, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your lips before reaching up to tug at the silken fabric.

While the sun has long set, the bedroom is still well lit, lanterns and a few candles lighting the space enough for you to need to adjust to the brightness.

You blink a few times, leaning into the hand Dammon places on your cheek as his face comes into focus.

You’ve never seen anything so breathtaking.

His lips are tilted up in that small smile of his, pupils blown wide with lust as he looks down at you. His cheeks are flushed and errant strands of hair fall from his usually well kept style.

You yearn to reach up and tuck them back, to card your fingers through his hair or trace around the base of his horns, but you’re once again reminded of the impossibility of that as your arms tug uselessly at your bindings.

It’s then that you start to recognize the ache in your arms, your hands tingling as they start to fall asleep form their position pinned under you.

You shift beneath Dammon, and he notices immediately, brow furrowing in silent question.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, voice laced with concern.

You shake your head. “No it doesn’t hurt. It just-“ you let out a small chuckle. “I think my hands are falling asleep.”

Dammon nods, and immediately goes to help you sit up, but you stop him with a shake of your head, an idea popping into your head.

“Wait.” You tell him, nodding your chin up towards where he was previously sitting. “Sit back.”

He gives you a curious look, and for a moment he hesitates, but he obeys, scooting back to sit on his heels between your legs.

You notice the hard bulge in his trousers, and any hesitance about your idea flies out the proverbial window.

With less effort than you expected, you manage to roll over onto your stomach, gathering your knees below you enough to raise your ass in the air, presenting yourself to the man behind you.

The sharp intake of breath is enough to tell you that Dammon understands your presentation for what it is. And soon two warm hands settle on your hips, trailing up your sides before coming back down again.

The warmth of him surrounds you soon after, his chest pressed against your back and arms as he leans over you, pressing gentle kisses to your shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

You let out an exasperated sigh, turning your face so it’s no longer pressed against the sheets.

“Dammon I swear to the gods, if you went through all this and don’t fuck me-“

His lips leave yours in an instant, the heat of him disappearing from behind you as you hear the faint rustle of fabric from behind you.

His hands settle on your hips again, nails biting into the skin harsher than before as you feel the head of his cock nudge at your entrance.

You expect him to check in with you again, expect him to ask if you remember your safe word or any amount of other precautions. But he doesn’t.

Instead he presses into you in one swift thrust, his cock guided easily by your earlier orgasm.

But it still never prepared you for the size of him. He always stretches you perfectly, the small ridges and bumps unique to his race adding to the sensation of him sinking into you.

The groan you let out is sinful, and you can’t help but turn to muffle it in the sheets.

But Dammon isn’t having that.

A strong tug in the rope between your arms has you pulling up from the bed, the force of the movement pulling you further back onto him until your hips are flush with his own.

“Don’t hide from me,” Dammon says, tugging at the restraints again, sending him deeper and making the rope dig deliciously into your skin. “I want to hear you.”

“Oh, gods. Dammon…”

His name falling from your lips finally makes him move, pulling out of you before thrusting back in with one solid movement.

Your name falls from his lips as he sets a punishing pace, something so different from the reverent way he worshiped your body earlier.

He curls himself over you, his chest pressed against your back as he plants one hand by your head on the bed, his sharp nails digging deep into the sheets as he holds himself over you.

He nuzzles his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, nose nudging your jaw as he takes your earlobe between his teeth and tugs.

Another whimper escapes your lips as he continues his mind blowing pace, hitting that spot inside you as you writhe against the ropes fully now. Hands clenching and unclenching as you press your hips back into his own, seeking your second release of the night.

“Gods, Dammon, please..”

you're practically sobbing now, tears wetting your lashes at the intense pleasure that courses through you and the slight frustration of not being able to touch anything - touch him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his free arm wrapping around your hips to hold you to him as he presses you down, further into the bed his cock pressing impossibly deeper inside of you at the change of position.

“Let go for me,” he says, voice sinful in your ear.

His words, and his fingers that slipped down to rub at your clit send you into oblivion for the second time.

You clench around him, crying out his name in a desperate plea as you squirm against him, veins alight with utter pleasure.

Dammon is not far behind you, just a few more stuttered thrusts and he comes in you with a groan of your name from his lips, his chest rumbling against your back as he sinks down into you, breath coming out in short labored breaths against your cheek.

Your mind is blissfully blank as you sink into the plush bedding beneath you, completely boneless as your lover adjusts his weight above you.

You whine when you feel him pull away from you, the room seeming so much cooler without his body next to yours.

“My love…?” His voice feels a million miles away as he brushes a few strands of hair from your sweat soaked forehead before pressing a kiss there. “Are you alright?”

You chuckle, but it comes out hoarse and weaker than intended.

“You just…gave me the best orgasm of my life. I’m more than alright.”

You watch through bleary eyes as Dammon blushes, his earlier dominant demeanor disappearing into the Dammon you know and love.

“I’m going to untie you.”

You nod, trying to help as much as you can in your blissed out state as he helps you to sit up, maneuvering you until you sit straddling his lap so he can more easily work at the ropes.

He moves quickly, fingers deftly untying the intricate knots and letting the ropes fall away from your skin. When he loosens the ropes at your back, your hands fall to your sides, a dull ache running from your shoulders down to the tips of your fingers.

You must have let out some kind of noise or flinched, because as soon as the ropes fall away, Dammon’s hands are on your arms, calloused palms running up and down your arms as he tries to sooth the aches and indentations left behind.

“They were too tight,” he mutters softly. “I’m sorry, my love I-”

You shush him softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips to quiet his concerns. “I’m alright, Dammon. I promise,” you assure him, smiling as he continued to rub at the light indentation marks left by the ropes. “I liked it,” you finally admit. “I really liked it.”

His minstrations pauses momentarily, hands sliding down to wrap around your waist as he pulls back enough to look down at you, brows furrowed ever so slightly. “You’re…not just saying that to please me, are you?”

You can’t help the playful groan that you let out, followed by a small chuckle as you wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his chest.

“Only you could give a woman the best orgasm of her life and still question whether she liked it,” you tease, practically feeling the way Dammon rolls his eyes at you.

A small squeal escapes you as Dammon wraps his arms around you more securly as he flips you onto your back again, head hitting the pillow as he hovers over your, lips turned upwards playfully.

“If you think that was the best…I think I have more work to do.”

Your brows wing up in surprise, lips aprting slightly as your mind runs wild with the possibilities. “Is that a challenge, you’re proposing?” you ask.

Dammon smiles, humming low in his chest as he leans down to press a kiss to your jaw. “It might be,” he aquecies. “But for now, i’d just like to hold you and maybe run you a bath. If you’d be so inclined.”

Warmth swells in your chest at his words. Even after something most would consider debacuhed, Dammon still manages to be the sweetest thing in the room. You turn and press a quick kiss to his lips before reching up to wrap your arms around his neck.

“I’d Love nothing more.”

He smiles and plops down next to you on the bed, gathering you in his arms as he does so. His chin rests on the top of your head as you nuzzle into his chest, your leg tangling with his own until you’re both settled comfortably against one another.

Comfortable silence fills the space, Dammon trailing light patterns on your back, as you do the same on his chest - both of you just taking a moment to bask in the other's presence. Until Dammon finally speaks up.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to do this,” he tells you softly, voice gentle.

You nod, moving to slip your arms around his waist, scooting closer to him. “Of course,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest. “I love you, Dammon.”

You feel his lips press against the crown of your head.

“I love you more.”

#Dammon x reader #bg3 Dammon x reader #Bg3 x reader #Dammon #bg3 Dammon #bg3

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cripplecharacters · 19 days

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Hi, I have some questions regarding confusion over a certain topic. First off, I have a character with a severe scarring on the upper right side of their body. I've heard in some tumblr ppsts that such appearance shouldn't be fetished. Then I stumbled across some posts, mentioning how the character can be described as 'pretty with it'.

For sure, I'm trying my best to normalize the looks. Because I have a love interest set up for them and while they don't mind the looks, I feel confused on how to convey their appreciation for the character's looks even with the scarring. They like the character as they are and stuff.

Sorry if this is a lot, I tend to get confused on how to handle such scenarios. And this sort of varying opinions is making me go '???'.

It's okay if you take your time to answer! Have a good day ahead of ya!

Hi!

"Fetishization of a disability" and "thinking that a disabled person is pretty" are two very different things. Despite the somewhat similar sound, they're not connected by much.

In the context of scars, fetishization would be what I would call the "Zuko situation" (yes, I love ATLA as much as the next guy, let me explain) - the scar isn't really a scar, it's more of a, I don't know, make-up? It's just the color that changes, it's all sharp edges and intricate shapes, the facial structure stays the exact same. There's no physical symptoms. Essentially, it's permanent body paint.

It fetishizes a disability by making it inaccurate, sometimes almost mystical. You don't see anyone fetishizing how real people with facial burns look like because they only like the idea of it. They don't care for us; they don't care for Face Equality or why we are offended by "villain with scar #32482". It's just a fun splotch of color to add to your OC when you're out of ideas.

Another aspect of fetishization is the "a scar is the worst thing in the whole world", the tragedy porn. It's using a disability for cheap drama. Again; it's inaccurate and exploitative. I don't see writers excited to depict my "coming to terms with my facial difference as a teenager, and eventually being proud of it" experience because where's the shock value and pity points? Fetishization, again, is about liking the idea of it, not the real thing.

Describing your character as beautiful, well, isn't any of that.

The point that I tried to make on that post was that a scar is often considered inherently ugly. That it's a stain on someone's beauty, that it would be better if it wasn't there.

"Brown beautiful eyes, thick facial hair, strong cheekbones - he managed to be irresistibly handsome even with that nasty scar going across his nose."

This, well, sucks. It's as if the character's beauty and their disability are contradictory forces that have to fight each other. But in reality, scars and any other visible disabilities are neutral. If the character is pretty, their scar is pretty too. It's a part of them, so how could it not be?

"She was a cute girl; her pastel pink, thinly braided hair framed her face, defying gravity by curling towards her mouth. The burned skin on her lips shifted as she smiled, revealing a tooth gap. She played with her equally pink 'white' cane, holding it between the two fingers she had on her right hand, bopping it against the ground to the rhythm of the song."

This, on the other hand, just states her disability as a part of her person. It's nothing weird or shocking, she's pretty, has a burn on her face, she's blind, she's missing some fingers, she's enjoying the music - it's almost boring when compared to the usual "scar introduction". There's no "even with her horribly burnt face", no "if only she wasn't scarred she would be beautiful", no "poor thing, lost her fingers in a horrific fire" - instead, she is beautiful, and she has scars, and she sure is having fun. That's it.

This is my best shot at explaining the difference between "fetishization" and "yeah they're pretty :-)" ft. my questionable writing - I hope this makes sense.

I definitely took my time to answer, sorry about that. Thank you for your ask!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #face difference #fetishization of disability

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pimosworld · 3 months

Note

Happy 700 Followers!!!!

For you celebration: 💌, a little fluff with any of our moon boys?

(live footage of Steven telling you how brilliant you are)

You said any of the moon boys so I decided on all

Pairing-Moon Boys x reader (Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake lockley x reader)

Summary- What’s Valentine’s Day without a little friendly competition

CW-Fluff,Fluff,Fluff inaccurate depictions of DID

WK-838

A/N- A little self indulgent because don’t we all secretly want them to spoil us

Not beta read

Three of hearts

This might be the coziest feeling in the world. It’s warmer than usual in the flat and it feels like you’re enveloped in a cloud of softness and fluff. You don’t feel the hard press of your boyfriend's body on you but for some reason your movement is restricted.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the morning light as you stare directly into the beedy eyes of a large stuffed animal. You rub your hands along the plush brown bear with a red bow wrapped around its neck. You’re certain there’d be no room for anyone else with the way the bear takes up half the space.

You sit up slightly trying to move your legs under the weight of the covers. Something long and lime green is draped across your feet as you struggle to pull it up to you. It's soft in a velvet way and it has pink spikes across its back. You think it resembles some kind of dinosaur or lizard…you aren’t entirely sure. What you are sure of is that it has an adorable name tag around its neck, LEONARD is etched in bright pink font on a heart shaped collar and you can’t help but giggle to yourself.

Something falls against your back and you’re momentarily startled as a large pink trunk hits your shoulder. You roll the Dino-lizard off you to turn around and inspect the baby pink elephant that looks about the same size as you. You rub the shag material on your face as you clutch it in your grasp. It smells like lavender and has the cutest smile on its face.

“Told you.”

Jake's voice brings your attention back to the room as he stands in front of your floor length mirror. He’s still shirtless in his boxers with his hands on his hips and the most smug look you’ve ever seen in your life.

“Told me what?” You say as you pat the small space of bed left next to you.

“Nothing mi amor.”

He quickly obliges, gently taking the stuffed animal from you and delicately placing it back against the headboard. He urges you to scoot back as he crawls up your body leaving feather light kisses along your thighs and over your stomach. His breath is hot against your shirt and you're in sensory overload. The soft animal against your back, the smell of him and the lavender lulls you into a sense of calm. You don’t even notice the switch when Marc nips at your neck.

“Tell him he’s wrong.” He husks into your ear and wraps his arms around your waist. He tosses the elephant to the edge of the bed with a little too much force and replaces it with the giant stuffed bear. Your body falls as he lets you go and you land with an oomph. His signature smirk is painted on as he leans back on his heels. “That’s much better.”

“Is someone going to fill me in?” You look at him quizzically and his eyes roll back before he can answer.

He tuts and swings his feet off the bed. “He sat on Leonard on purpose, I know it.” Steven when frustrated is quite possibly the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen as you try to hide your smile. He picks up the-“ He’s a dinosaur you know.” Dinosaur like he weighs nothing and lays him next to you. He taps on the collar with the most delighted look on his face. “You can tell them they’re both wrong love. You can’t own a pet animal without a name, it’s just ridiculous.”

You can’t decide if you want to laugh or cry at the absurdity and thoughtfulness of it all. They made a competition out of everything and something as innocent as a Valentines Day stuffed animal would be no different.

He’s standing in front of the mirror again, same stance as Jake but laced with much more annoyance. “Well then tell me their names.” He snaps his fingers. “Exactly what I thought.”

You clear your throat and his eyes widen in the reflection. “Sorry love, forgot to say good morning.” He bounds back over to you, tackling you into the softness of your bed as he kisses your lips softly. You can taste the mint and a hint of something else that says he lost the battle this morning of coffee or tea.

“So?” He says against your lips, eyes looking at you expectantly. You cup his face in your palms and tilt your head in silent question. “Which one is your favorite?”

“Oh no no no, you know I’m not going to choose.” You squirm out from under him and put the elephant in its rightful place next to the rest. “I love them all equally.” You place a kiss on each one and move to exit the bedroom, as his large hand grabs your wrist throwing you back onto the bed.

“That’s fine cariño, we have ways of making you choose.”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

#pimosfollowercelebration #valentines celebration #valentinesparty #steven grant x female reader #marc spector x fem!reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon boys x reader #moon knight fic #steven grant x f!reader #marc spector fluff

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mono-moonchilds · 10 months

Text

For Glory │KNJ

⤑ pairing: underground boxer!namjoon x fem!reader

⤑ genre: angst!!, smut, some fluff ig but also not really but yes??

⤑ rating:explicit (18+)

⤑ word count: 3.2k

⤑ summary: A fight to the death. No rules, no refs, and nowhere to run.

⤑ warnings: descriptive depiction of boxing, illusions of death, mentions of a stabbing, ig just violence in general fr, arguments, anyways on to the smut part of these warnings, fingering, emotional sex, missionary, riding, namjoon has a buzz cut, feel free to let me know if I missed anything but I think that's all folks

⤑ A/N: I watched Bloodhounds a few weeks then just had to make a boxing fic because I loved that show so much. hot men + fighting = sign me up.

The room was full to capacity, nothing but sweaty drunks that were hollering over each other while letting out rowdy cheers filling the place. Despite it all, it felt like you could hear everything. Every punch, every kick- each blow that landed on his bruised skin rang a thousand times in your ears. The fight had only been going on for fifteen minutes —probably less— but it felt like much longer. Both of their bodies already so badly beaten —bright red blood spewing from their wounds and covering the once pristine mat.

This was your first fight and it showed. Your hands clenching the worn wooden benches, breath hitching at every movement. You usually didn’t come to these events, and you didn’t see how anyone could. They were barbaric and rough -no gloves, no rules, and definitely no safety measures. They couldn’t use weapons but that was about it. Everything else was free game and however the match ended was how it ended.

Whether it was in a K.O. or stone-cold murder was all up to the victor.

‘Fight To The Death’ was what they called it. A sixteen-by-sixteen ring, surrounded by wired, ceiling-high fences, and absolutely no referees. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and nowhere to escape. Neither party could call a time-out either. Once they were in the ring they were stuck there until the horn blew signaling the match was over.

“Fuck!” You jumped up from your seat. That was a mean one. The punch knocked Namjoon straight on his back allowing the other to climb on top. Luckily Namjoon was able to bring his arms up and get into a protective huddle, but it was still barely any help. Lee Do Yoon was evil, and his hits were ruthless. Even in the regular matches, he had a reputation for playing dirty.

This wasn’t even supposed to be his fight. For two years Namjoon had been out —he owned a gym and had a regular life that didn’t involve the underground fighting scene. For two beautiful years, you were able to see your boyfriend come home the way he left. No bruises, no busted lips. Just a clean face and a happy smile.

All of you had told Jungkook to lie low. That bragging and arguing with The Vipers was something he did not want to do. Despite your efforts to keep out this scene and the business that went along with it even you knew that Do Yoon and his little gang were nothing to mess with. Of course, Jungkook didn’t listen. When did he ever?

The night of your anniversary was when you got the call. You and Namjoon were on your way home from dinner when his phone rang.

Jungkook had been stabbed. They did him over three different times before leaving him for dead in the middle of an alley. Thankfully Jungkook had been relatively fine, but he was in absolutely no shape to fight. He could’ve pulled out but all of them had way too much vengeance to let the incident go unchecked, letting The Vipers have another by default victory. The other man had done this before and the only reason none of them ever got him back was they were all too consumed with their grief.

Hoseok had offered to fight in Jungkook’s place and so had Taehyung but either of them getting in that ring with Lee Do Yoon would’ve been like signing their death note. It’d been years since their last fight. And even though both of them were still in amazing shape they also had way too many injuries to even stand a chance of winning.

Of course, Namjoon never told you his plan though. He kept quiet, carefully dodging your suspicious questions until tonight.

“It’s okay- he’s okay. Namjoon’s got this,” Jungkook tried to comfort wrapping his arm around you, but you shook him off sending a mean glare.

You knew it was unfair to still be angry with him, but you couldn’t help. Sometimes you just wanted Jungkook to grow up —for him to mature and think with his head. Yeah, he knew how to step but he also needed to know when to fall the fuck back. He was twenty-five and everyone was still cleaning up his messes as if he were a kid.

“Joon!” You screamed out your hands banging against the gate. Instead of grabbing your boyfriend’s attention, you grabbed Do Yoon’s. A bloody grin filling his snake-like features as he turned towards you.

“Come on Joon—” he cooed mockingly, “you gone let your girl stand there and just watch you get put down like an animal? I thought you were supposed to be something. That’s what they told me.” Do Yoon got up from on top of him swinging his leg back hard before pushing it forward kicking Namjoon straight in the side. It sent all the air out of his body making Namjoon curl into a ball as he let out a loud cry. “Your nothing,” Do Yoon hacked a bloody lob right onto his face. “Just a washed-up piece of shit.”

Do Yoon yanked his head back. Namjoon had no time to react before the other man's hard fist clocked him dead in the face six times before dropping him back on the mat. Even though the match wasn’t over Do Yoon jumped around the ring as if he’d already won the crowd hyping him up like the depraved monster he was.

“Please,” You begged. Namjoon was still down. He kept trying to get up, but his body was wobbly and failing him.

Do Yoon crouched down in front of you. His tongue dragged against the nasty wire fence as he licked it. “Once I’m done imma have a nice time with you—” he reached down groping his flaccid dick in his shorts. “me and my boys. We’re going to-”

Before he can finish the sentence Do Yoon’s face is smashed against the fence before being dragged back. Namjoon is the one on top now. His punches unrelenting as he attacks every part of the man underneath his body. For once you understood how everyone else in the arena felt. A loud cheer came from the depths of your soul as you threw your arms up. Do Yoon was able to get a few good punches in, but it wasn’t enough, newfound energy filling Namjoon’s entire being.

It should have terrified you. The way Namjoon looked -his eyes cold and distant but it didn’t.

With one last heavy punch the match was over, Do Yoon’s arms falling flat to his side. For once the audience was quiet. Everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if he would get up. Strings of swearing erupted from his goons, their hands shaking the cage wall as they yelled at him. It was too late though.

The loud countdown over the speaker started.

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Six!

Five!

Four!

Three!

Two!

One!

The horn blared.

“The winner of this year's Fight to The Death: Kiiim NaaamJOON!”

As soon as the gate rolled open you were gone. Jumping up you wrap your legs around Namjoon’s waist, his strong arms lifting you into the air. The crowd fickle as ever rang out in cheers, shouting and chanting Namjoon’s praises. Your boyfriend took it all in, a loud roar erupting from his throat as he bounced up and down.

It was over.

It was all finally over.

Namjoon walked out of the venue with a limp and somewhat clean face. Though he was still marred with bruises and cuts, Seokjin had managed to patch him up well. Before the two of you got into the car, he called over Jungkook handing him one of the leather briefcases. With a shake of his head, the younger immediately declined, pushing it away.

“Take it,” Namjoon pressed shoving it into his chest. “Pay your debts and stay out of trouble.”

“I’m sorry Hyung,” Jungkook broke down into tears. “I’m so sorry,” He repeated looking at you this time. “I will. I promise I will.”

“I know,” Namjoon said pulling Jungkook into a hug. “It’s over. don’t think about it too much.”

Throughout all his goodbyes Namjoon kept a stoic face. It was only when the two of you crawled into the backseat of Hoseok’s car that he let out a loud sob. Hoseok looked back at him through the rear-view mirror but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say. Reaching over you grabbed his hand and leaned over resting your head on his shoulder.

“I did it. I fucking did.” Namjoon whispered but you knew he wasn’t talking to you. He wasn’t talking to either of you. Instead, his focus was on the golden boxing glove chain that was around his neck.

Yoongi’s old necklace.

When the two of you entered your shared apartment the story of what had gone down just hours before was all over the place. The space is messy littered with broken objects that you’d thrown around in a fit. Before you could finish making your way over to the kitchen to grab the broom Namjoon grabbed your wrist stopping you.

“We’ll clean it up tomorrow. Come on,”

Sitting down on the bed Namjoon pulled you a top of him. Your legs spread on either side of his body. “Didn’t think you would come,”

“Called Jimin last minute. He rushed me over.”

“How come?”

You shrugged sucking in a sniffle. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of you being in that ring thinking all that shit I said was true. I didn’t mean it Joon. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Namjoon, as understanding as ever nodded his head. “Baby I know you didn’t. I know you were just angry and you had every right to be.” That made you cry. You never would understand what you’d done in life to be able to call someone like Namjoon yours.

Gingerly grabbing your brown cheeks between his palms, Namjoon pulled you in for a kiss. The remnants of dried metallic blood danced on your tongue. It reminded you of your first kiss. How the scars made his lips rough and how swollen they felt against yours. You should’ve been used to this but for some reason, it all felt so foreign. Haven got so used to your new normal you’d completely pushed down the old one.

The staying up to the wee hours of the morning wondering if he was going to be okay, sometimes having to patch him up or force him to go to the hospital when things looked too bad.

“Come on,” Namjoon hushed pulling you back in. “Stay with me,”

Flipping the two of you over he laid you down on your back. His hands instantly falling to the hem of your leggings as he pulled the tight fabric off of you. Namjoon’s lips found yours once again, a soft gasp-like breath leaving your mouth as you felt the outline of his hardening cock pressing against your lower belly. Freeing you from the confines of his hoodie Namjoon latched onto your neck, his mouth sucking hard at the exposed skin as his fingers slowly trailed down your stomach and to the place you needed him most.

It was crazy. How with just a mere touch from him you were soaked. Panties clinging desperately to your sodden pussy. Letting out a low chuckle Namjoon pulled his fingers from your panties showing you the slick digits. “Thought you said you hated me?”

Letting out a whine you rolled your eyes. “Please,” You quietly begged. You knew Namjoon was just trying to make light- show you in his own little way that he wasn’t mad at you, but you couldn’t do it tonight. You didn’t want to relive any of the shit you’d said to him.

Sliding from off of you Namjoon laid down on his side while pulling your thigh up onto his hip so that now the two of you were laying down on the bed facing each other. Pushing his hand back between your bodies his fingers made their way back into your panties- the calloused tips rubbing against your sensitive clit.

One by one he pushed his middle and ring finger into your needy hole. Forcing another low gasp from your mouth as you leaned forward burying your face into the crook of his neck. Namjoon kept a slow pace. Dragging his fingers in and out, ever so slightly curving the digits to rub them against that little spot that always made you lose it.

“You know I love you,” Namjoon breathed against your neck. You nodded. “I was always gonna come back to you. Nothing could keep me away from you.”

Your body writhes, your right hand flying up wanting to tangle into Namjoon’s dark locks but there was nothing there. Just like it was when you’d first met him his hair was once again completely buzzed leaving him with practically little to nothing. So instead, you settle for grasping at the back of his neck, practically fucking yourself onto the digits, your hips having a mind of their own as they rolled and jerked.

You wanted nothing more than to say something back, tell Namjoon how much you loved him too but you couldn’t. The pleasure over taking your body so much that the only thing you could do was let out low swears followed by the call of his name. It always embarrassed you how just with a few touches Namjoon could have you speechless and clinging to his body in desperation.

You could hear the wetness. Your slick undoubtedly leaving the bed sheets along with your inner thighs a mess. “Look at me,” Namjoon mumbled a faint smile filling his lips as you followed his command. “You know I like looking at you when you cum.”

Namjoon’s fingers sped up. The squelches from your pussy fill the quiet room. “Shit,” You swore. That familiar feeling rising up in your lower belly. You could feel your legs tightening up, the heel of your foot pressing into the back of Namjoon's calf.

“That’s right. Let go for me baby,” You don’t need to be told twice. Your vision crossing a little as your body shudders against his. “There we go. Always so pretty. My pretty baby,” Namjoon encourages his fingers not letting up even for a moment as he fucks you through your orgasm. It feels like forever before he finally pulls away, shoving the slick digits into his mouth.

Pulling away for just a moment Namjoon sits up and pulls his own hoodie off. Even though you know it's against your better interest you can’t help but look. His bare chest was exposed showing all of the bruises that littered his once clear skin. They were everywhere. There wasn’t a bare piece of skin that didn’t have Do Yoon’s dirty prints on it. “nuh uh—” Namjoon murmurs tilting your chin up. “Don’t look at that. Look at me. Just stay here with me,” Kissing your tears away Namjoon rolled the two of you over so that he was back on top of you. In one swift movement, he pulled down his gym shorts and boxers allowing his thick cock to spring free from its previous confinements.

Grabbing the length, Namjoon began to pump it, smearing the creamy white beads that’d spurted from the tip into the rest of the skin. “Joon,” You breathed needily, your cunt throbbing desperately in your panties. Even though your boyfriend just shushed you he didn’t tease much longer, the head of his cock pressing into your pussy slowly splitting you open.

Despite Namjoon’s thrusts being slow they were hard. Each push knocking the wind out of you as you begged for more. Dipping his head down Namjoon wrapped his full lips around your brown nipple suckling the pebble into his mouth.

“Right there,” You moaned, eyes fluttering closed at the overwhelming sensations that racked through your body. Letting go of your nipple Namjoon’s face falls onto your shoulder, low grunts and groans falling from his lips with every thrust.

“Fucking love you,” Namjoon whispers so low that you weren’t even sure he’d meant to say it out loud. Wrapping your legs around his lower back, you pull him deeper into you, making a low hiss fall from Namjoon’s mouth as you accidentally press into a bruise.

“’m sorry,” you slur out.

“S’okay,” He grumbles kissing your collar blade, his wet tongue dragging across the skin. Pulling away Namjoon looked down at you, a small smile filling his face as he stared. Even though he didn’t say anything you knew exactly what he was feeling because you felt the same. The happiness. The relief. Although Namjoon had given promises of winning before he left the two of you both knew very well the fight could’ve gone either way.

Gradually his eyes drifted downward, first falling on your bouncing breast but then inevitably ending on your belly causing tears to fill his eyes. This time you pull him out of it, your hands cupping his cheeks as you pull him down for a kiss. “Lemme ride you,” you say.

With a nod of his head, Namjoon changed positions causing you to let out a lower whimper. He always felt so fucking deep in this position, like his cock was right in your stomach. “Shit—” Namjoon’s eyes got wide. “do you think we’re gonna—”

“Joon—” You cut him off with a laugh already knowing what he was about to ask. “You’re big but you're not that damn big. Just give me a minute.” You finish a moan tumbling for your lips as you roll your hips just a bit to help get used to the stretch.

Instead of placing your hands on his chest you lean back grasping his thighs, eyes fluttering close as you rock back and forth. Namjoon’s hands found purchase on your waist helping you grind a little bit faster, his hips rising a little to match your movements. Lifting yourself up you drop back down, the loud sound of skin slapping together filling the room as you repeat the movements.

“Don’t think I gonna last—” Namjoon chokes out. “feel too fucking good.”

You nod your head in agreement, already feeling the sensation building. “Just a lil faster baby.” Namjoon whimpers. “I need a little more,”

As you follow his directions, Namjoon’s head falls back. His lips forming into a ‘o’ as his eyebrows furrow together. He was almost there and so were you. Reaching down you rub fast circles onto your clit, your body shaking as your orgasm hits you hard. It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to follow, a loud groan escaping him as his cum paints your inner walls white.

The two of you pant, barely allowing the other to catch a breath before you find your lips on each other once again. Carefully you slide off him and fall to the side. Wrapping his arms back around you Namjoon pulls you in once more. His hand finds rest on your belly rubbing at the barely there bump as his eyes flutter close.

“Don’t know what I would do without you,” You whisper.

“And I don’t want to find out.”

⤑ A/N: I really loved writing this couple and I kinda wanna write the prequel to how they met and also Jungkook and Yoongi's story. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

#bts smut #bts fic #namjoon smut #bts x black reader #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon x black reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n

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lucozadehulahoop · 6 months

Text

A Question of Time (Astarion x f!reader/tav) part 3/?

Chapter summary: Astarion makes his choice, but his actions don't go unnoticed. Call it divine intervention.

A.N: Big thank you for the massive love on this! I've only been posting this fic for three days and the response has been overwhelming! I appreciate every single comment and it really keeps me motivated. The tag list will be posted below the cut because it's getting a bit long ahh.

Tags and T.W.:pre-bg3!Astarion, slave!Astarion, mentions of torture and abuse, demi-goddess!tav, eventual NSFW (minors stay away kindly, thank you darlings)

warning for this chapter: seggsual sention (eh more just dorks being dorks)

part 1 part 2 part 4

"Astarion, favored soul, I send you my own flesh and blood to remove you from harm, yet you do not take your chance to flee..." An ethereal voice sang to Astarion as he tried to make sense of his own surroundings.

Slowly he began to recognize the cemetery, the tombstones, his own grave... how had he ended up back there?

The moon shined brightly down on him, and slowly the origin of that voice materialized itself right in front of him.

Astarion may have not been a believer, but he could recognize a goddess when he saw one. Much like in her many popular depictions, Sehanine wore what resembled a black silk gown, the very fabric that created the shadows she was a patron of. Her hair was black and white, her skin deep blue like the ocean, and her eyes the shape of twin moons. Many were the elves who worshiped 'the Moonweaver ' dutifully.

Sehanine was also the only diety criminals and tricksters seemed to cling to. A favor from the patron of illusions and misdirection could make the difference between the success or failure of a deed carried out under the cover of night.

But she was not only the goddess those who worked in secrecy and trickery often asked for a blessing from. Love was the biggest blessing tied to her name, and many cursed her for being the protector of lovers who steeled away for a tryst in the night.

"Do not be afraid, Pale One." She smiled at him eerily. "I appear to you now to give you guidance. I am sure by now you recognize me, even though on this plane I have come to be known to many as Selùne in these times, but you have been alive since the days of the old creed..."

"Y-yes--" Astarion stammered, never once having thought he'd be entertaining a conversation with a diety.

"I know you have not once believed in anything that was not material, and I am not here to test your faith, little vampire. I have been guiding your journey through this world ever since you began to display all of those qualities that are so dear to me... the Moon has been your close ally in all of your deeds..." The goddess proclaimed. "I look out for my own, but now... you go against my design to deliver you from your wretched master. Why is it so?"

It was quite a hefty amount of information to take in all at once. Not to mention preposterous. Guidance? Protection? If Astarion had been so favored by the gods, why in the seven hells had he been crushed underneath Cazador's heel for two hundred years?

The anger didn't take long to boil up inside of him. "No. No, forgive me, your holiness, but there has to be some kind of mistake here." Astarion sneered. "I think you've got the wrong Astarion, because this one has been attacked by the Gur, turned into a vampire, and subjected to two centuries of torture at the hands of a maniac!"

Sehanine smiled down at him once more, almost as if Astarion's lament was something to be amused by. "It is not up to me to explain the trials and tribulations of mortal life, dear one... If I directly interfered with the lives of every being I wished to influence in a constant manner, then other gods would want the same and war would surely break out amongst us. I would not come to you if I did not fear great peril on the horizon. Your Master, Cazador Szaar, has joined a league with dark, dangerous forces... forces that are enemies to myself and other entities that keep the balance between good and-"

Astarion scoffed. "I fail to see, how any of this is my concern."

The goddess's eyes became pitch black and her form started to warp into something far more sinister. "Count yourself lucky I consider your quick wit as a quality, but do not make the mistake of disrespecting me again, vampire spawn." She threatened in a booming voice. "You will be turned into a sacrificial lamb to your Master's ascension to near-godliness if you do not flee now, underneath my daughter's protection."

Astarion was silent for a very long while. In fact, he could not tell how much time had passed before she finally spoke again, her voice once again gentle.

"I will not have one of my own be involved in this abomination of a rite. In fact, I will make sure Tav stops this event from coming to pass so that she may meet her destiny."

Astarion couldn't stop himself from speaking his mind once again, even at the cost of being punished by the divine. "Meet her destiny? Surely... surely you must know how powerful Cazador is. I mean, I've seen what your darling daughter can do, but she doesn't seem to have a single mean bone in her body and you might risk losing her-"

"Tav must die for Cazador and the rest of the evil he's created to be eradicated for good." Was the goddess's simply put answer.

"But... she's your daughter." Astarion failed to understand until it finally clicked in his head. "You---you set her up like a lamb for slaughter. This is why she couldn't keep away from me? Because you made her come to my rescue every time? And now she's... Hells, she's getting rid of Cazador for you and dying in the process because you can't look bad in front of your god pals? What happened to looking out for your own?"

"I may have brought her into this world, but she is not one of my own." The Moonweaver clarified." Too sweet, too good-natured. The only thing I can truly recognize is her beauty. But no, I have not spoken to her, ever. I thought it best she did not know the pain of who she truly is, nor how she will meet her end. I simply know how and when it will come to pass. Yet, it was quite surprising to see how deeply attuned to your pain she is... and in the grand scheme of things it drew her like a moth to a flame, right into Cazador's grasp..."

Astarion began to feel violently ill, and he couldn't understand why. "Wait, what do you mean, what are you talking about---"

"Oh hush now, don't tell me you care for her? I would find that hard to believe..." She grinned, her very nature compelled to be intrigued by displays of affection, especially when they bloomed in the most unlikely of circumstances."However, I must go now, little vampling. But do not worry, Tav will be remembered, I will personally make sure to immortalize her in the stars for her valiant sacrifice."

"No!" Astarion cried out as he thrashed on the floor, suddenly regaining consciousness underneath Tav's tear-brimmed eyes.

She had been trying desperately to bring the pale elf back to consciousness after he'd dropped to the ground unexpectedly, his red eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body wracked by convulsions.

"Astarion!" She shook him a little more for good measure. "Astarion stay with me!" Tav let out a little sob, never having come across a physical ailment she hadn't been able to cure.

"Hells below..." Astarion cursed, slowly managing to sit up as he caught up with what had just happened.

Tav was quite a sight for a creature who hardly ever seemed to be affected by anything. Tear-stained cheeks, her hands twisting in the fabric of her dress. Astarion couldn't recall the last time someone had ever displayed worry over him. And now that he knew the truth about so many things, he didn't deem himself worthy of it. "Cheer up, sweet, I'm alright." He couldn't help but say, pinching her nose softly between his curled fingers.

"Alright?!" Tav barked at him, huffing and shooing his hand away. "You dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes and then you started convulsing!" She accused as if Astarion had done so on purpose. "You were completely unresponsive for almost half of an hour! How often does this happen for you to think it's alright?"

Astarion could think of a million things to say. A close encounter with Tav's dear old mom being the explanation at the forefront of his mind. But the implications of that conversation having undeniably taken place (considering it hadn't been just some weird dream as he'd liked to have hoped) were too painful to consider. He should have been thinking about the fact that Cazador planned to sacrifice him. He should have been burning with rage at the mere thought of his death aiding his captor on the path to becoming god-like.

Instead, all he could do was laugh, enjoying the way it riled up Tav even more. "Like a what? Darling, I must say my likeliness has been compared to many things in my lifetime, but a sack of potatoes has certainly never made the list..."

"Oh well, then may I suggest that 'obtuse ass' also be included?" She retorted, getting in his face as she was completely unamused by the way he was belittling her concern.

"Do you spend a lot of time thinking about the shape of my backside?" Astarion tilted his head closer too, meaning to snap back at Tav, but instantly realizing his words had come out quite a bit softer than intended.

"I-I don't see how that's relevant..." Tav whispered, mimicking his tone as her pupils turned into the size of saucers.

"You're the one who brought it up..." Astarion shrugged, as he had a very private laugh within himself at Tav's expense. She was so gullible, he could have eaten her up.

"No! You have misunderstood me. Please, I apologize if I have made you feel--" Tav was in the middle of expressing a sincere apology when she realized Astarion could no longer contain the amusement he was having at her expense. "You are despicable!" She huffed, doing a poor attempt at shoving at his chest before getting herself back up on her feet.

Astarion chose to admire her a few seconds more from where he was sitting on the ground. "Now that, my darling... is something I've definitely been called before."

Tav crossed her arms over her chest as she adamantly checked on his capability to stand back up on his feet again. "How will you know it won't happen again?" She asked him seriously, referring to the episode that had just transpired.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'll get called 'despicable' again for days to come." Astarion attempted to avoid the question.

"I meant you fainting!" Tav insisted.

"I've... got a pretty good idea of what I need to do to stop it from happening again." Running away from this hellhole, and leaving you here none the wiser, so I don't get any more friendly reminders from your mother, Astarion thought to himself as he swallowed down a knot in his throat. He looked out the window and recognized the familiar hues of light. The day was coming and he wasn't going to be able to leave until it was over.

Astarion needed to get his affairs in order and rest. Staying simply wasn't an option.

Not to mention, he was practically starving.

His gaze began to linger extensively on Tav as she stared into the fireplace.

"You've been up all night, darling---" Astarion snapped out of his reverie and began to fret as he started closing all the window panes, making sure not a single ray of light would be able to break through. "Surely, surely it would be good for you to get some rest, no? In your room that is --- far, far away from me, I mean- I have tasks to do now. Servants are terribly, terribly busy people, you see---" He continued to ramble as he not so subtly nudged Tav out of his room, guiding her to the door. "I must get to my work-"

"But you are clearly unwell! You're the one who must rest, Astarion. You're even paler than usual-" Tav protested, turning into his arms to look up at him in defiance once more.

"May the gods help me -- no, actually let's leave them out of this -- must you stick your pretty little nose in everything I do? I can take care of myself and I'm not the helpless little critter you seem to think you've stumbled upon-" Astarion had intended on pushing Tav out of the room, but all he was doing in actuality was bringing her closer to his body.

"Well, you've certainly given me plenty of proof on that front haven't you?" Tav spat and twisted her hands in his worn-out shirt.

Just like that, they were back to arguing again, except this time it wasn't amusing for either of them.

"Proof? Is that what you want?" Astarion asked her, losing his last nerve to hunger and exhaustion.

The curtain fell, and Tav looked back into the face of a vampire.

---

A.N: hehe, oh how I like to tease you so. Okay real talk, this is now an ongoing fic. Truly, you guys have given me so much love, and I'm overwhelmed. I'm really enjoying writing this story and I thank you all for joining the ride. stay tuned for part 4!

This story is also on Ao3 btw, for the people who prefer reading it there.

tag list (if you want to be added to the tag list, just let me know!): @d0nutkaky0in @i-just-want-to-sleep-97 @omggiannarosa @dead-giirl-walking @warbwarts @mrsfullbuster500 @uwomina @iyaesakura @cheeslyy @dragon-kazansky @bambamwolf87 @chibi-chi @orsomethingelseentirely @davenswitcher @adequate-superstar @ophelias-flowerss @tragedybunny @yaimlight @the-golden-ouroboros @candyladycry @babygirlbrainrot @mariposakitten @blobs-away @biganddrunkunicorn @astarionmisc @the-garbage-central @raviolixxx

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fic #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion ancunin #astarion fluff #bg3 astarion #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

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russellsppttemplates · 7 months

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I'm here for you (Lance Stroll)

When you finally let Lance help you, you quickly find out that doing things with his support makes them just that little bit better

Note: english is not my first language. I'm not a doctor, so there are probably some inaccurate informations here, but this is what I know both from reading and from experience. Everyone has different experiences and I wanted to be able to depict that in some way.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions periods, blood, medical appointments, endometriosis, (in)fertility

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"How bad is it?", Lance asked you as you both laid down on the bed, "like a 7, but hopefully the meds will kick in soon", you mumbled, finding a comfortable position in your boyfriend's embrace. "Wake me up if you need anything, okay? I don't want you to be uncomfortable when I can help with something", he said, kissing the top of your head and cuddling you in.

Your period had been acting up again, and while you usually knew what to do and when, this time around all of the tricks you knew seemed lack the hability to soothe you, so to say you were feeling less than fine was an understatement.

Sleeping usually helped, but soon enough you ended up being woken up by a particular sharp pain on your lower belly and lower back, and despite his insistence, you tried your best to get up from the bed to grab something to relieve the pain without making too much noise, not wanting to wake Lance up. Your efforts seemed small, though, because as soon as you got up, It didn't take your boyfriend long before his hand palmed the area where you had been asleep on, "Y/N?", he called, "I just wanted to get something to ease the pain, go back to sleep, love", you whispered, seeing him get up instead.

"I'll get the machine, you just rest, okay?", he said in a both stern and soft way, making you lie back on the bed as he looked for the TENS machine. In one of your appointments, your doctor mentioned that if you had the possibility and the means, you could try the machine as it would help you deal with the pain, and so far it had helped you a great deal.

"Here, sweetheart", Lance helped you with your top and shorts, placing the small circles on either side of your tummy, "is that good?", he said as he regulated the level on the machine, "it's not doing much, if I'm honest", you whimpered, feeling bad because of how much effort your boyfriend was putting in hopes of making you feel better and how little it was working.

"Come here", he nudged you, cuddling you closer to him as his hands traced shapes on yout tummy, "does this hurt?", he asked, "no, you're okay", you mumbled, trying to distract yourself from the intense cramps, "thank you for being here", you kissed the skin near his clavicle, "I'll be here for you, always".

You were in and out of sleep for the whole night, seeing the light seep through the windows slowly as the cramps kept getting stronger again, keeping you up for most of the time.

"Hey you", Lance mumbled, "how are you feeling?", he asked, "I think they're a little bit softer now, or maybe I've become numb to them", you huffed, trying to find a better position when you felt the need to use the toilet, "I'll be back", you said, walking slowly to the bathroom.

The uncomfortable feeling in your underwear was justified by the amount of period blood that had been way heavier than usual this time around, taking you a while to clean up before going back to the bedroom and change your bottoms.

"Did any of it get in the bedding?", you asked Lance, seeing he was already up and looking for something, too, "no, I noticed when you got up and looked for any spots, but the bed is fine", he smiled sadly, "I was thinking we should call your doctor and tell her about this? I've seen really rough cycles you've had and none of them compare to this", Lance reasoned. You had been together for nearly four years and he never saw you in this much pain and discomfort, and adding the fact that you had a good pain threshold, it was concerning him even more.

"I'll send her a text to see if she thinks I need to go somewhere, or at least give me something, and maybe this will help the diagnosis", you mumbled, grabbing your phone and writing a small description of how you had been feeling.

The last set of exams you had got done were already because of some suspicions your doctor had because of how intense your cycles usually were and this may very well be another situation to help you get closer to understanding how your body was working.

"While we wait, I'm going to get us breakfast, okay? I know food is the last thing on your mind, but you'll need to eat", he nodded, kissing your forehead before going downstairs to prepare the food.

You were reading the text your doctor sent you back when Lance entered the room, a tray with tea and toast on it, "she texted me back", you began, "she says that these are all common symptoms and that there isn't much I can do, but that she can get me an appointment for tomorrow because this helps put things into perspective", you shrugged, setting your phone on your bedside table, "I'll go with you", Lance said, helping you sit up so you could eat, "I would usually say that I don't need it, that I can go on my own, but it's not like you would let me anyway, am I right?", you smiled, "but I will actually say that I'm thankful for that and that I love you very much. I'm very lucky to have you with me", you smiled honestly for the first time in a while, "I love you, too, sweetheart".

When the next morning rolled around, Lance drove you both to the appointment, his hand resting where your leg met your hip and rubbing circles. After checking in and grabbing your card so you could go to the lab and let them collect the samples they needed, you went back to the waiting area, Lance sitting in one of the sofas. "Was it okay?", he asked, "yes, the nurse just had to get a blood sample so the doctor can check if everything is fine with that, the scan os inside her office from what she told me", you replied. Just on time like the appointment was scheduled, your name was called and you both got up, Lance lacing his fingers in yours and squeezing it as you entered the office. Greeting you both, your doctor asked you to sit down, "Hello Y/N, Hi Lance, please take a seat", she said, "it seems your pain hasn't been getting any better", she added, letting you carry on.

"I've been managing it just fine like I told you in the last appointment, but this month it was unbearable, I don't think it ever got this bad. Especially around my lower back and lower tummy, definitely never felt like this", you explained.

"I'm just opening your lab results here on the computer", she said, "you remember the possibilities we talked about in our last appointment, and I think we have enough results here that would suggest one of them, which is endometriosis, so I'd like to do another scan to see if there is support to that hypothesis", she nodded to the table.

You set your bag on the chair you were sitting in, moving to lay on your back and lift your shirt up so she could place the gel on your skin, "it's cold, I'm sorry", she smiled apologetically as she grabbed the wand, looking at the screen and frowning. You had been her patient long enough to know her enough to gather that it wasn't good news. Question was: was it bad news because it supported the diagnosis or was it bad because you were back to square one with no idea about what symptoms to look for?

"Do you see these parts here? This is all endometrial tissue that's grown outside of your uterus, which is here", she pointed to the screen, "because you're about on the last day of your period, so your flow is smaller now", she checked and you nodded, "so this, like we spoke about, can be the cause of your symptoms, why you feel so much pain, why your cycles tend to be on the heavier side, also the tiredness, the nausea", the doctor added, now turning to Lance so he could also be involved in her explanation.

After cleaning you up, you sat back in the chair next to Lance, feeling his hand land on your thigh as your doctor typed the results on the computer, "having said this, I'm recommending you a few specialists in this area, so you'll have specific, specialised and personalised care", she offered, "I know this can be a scary moment, but I also want you to see the side where you're finally aware of what is happening in your body and now look for the answers that target it".

"Was there anything that could've prevented this? Are we doing something wrong?", Lance asked, "no, this isn't something you can prevent. Usually, endometriosis is hereditary, and since Y/N mentioned her aunt had some issues getting pregnant and her mother also showed these symptoms, it is most likely that is is genetics", she enlightened, seeing you nod as you squeezed Lance's hand back.

After she went over a few more tricks for your pain management, you and Lance thanked her and walked out to the car, getting inside and fastening your seat belts. "Are you okay, darling?", Lance wondered, not being able to read your expression, which wasn't usual.

"It may sound weird, but I think I've been expecting this. Like, I knew what I had wasn't normal, and after talking to my mother and my aunt, it started to make sense. And then I read things on Google, which I know it's not the best thing, but I did it carefully", you began, "so I was expecting it, I guess. Me and Dr. Marlin have been discussing the possibility, so it wasn't a shock. She was very direct because that's how it has always been and I appreciate her for it", you noted.

"I have to admit she was a bit forward", Lance chuckled lightly, his hand grabbing yours, "but it makes sense now. I want you to know, though, that I'll be here for everything that I can, I want to support you as much as possible", he added.

"It's still something to process, and it's only for sure whenever I go to the next appointments, so I'll just take it in", you answered honestly, smiling at Lance before kissing him, "thank you for always being here".

When you arrived home, you felt your body get even more tired as you changed into comfortable clothes, sensing that as soon as your head hit anything resembling a pillow or a mattress you would fall asleep.

While you slept on the big sofa, Lance was on his phone looking up the best specialists in the area, typing the phone number and email as well as their name in his notes app so you could both discuss it later once you woke up. Even though Dr. Marlin explained a few things about what her suspicions were and you had also told him about them from previous appointments, Lance had to admit he wasn't well-versed in the topic beyond what you had told him, so he did what he thought was best and looked it up on the Internet. Mindful of the websites he was reading, he came across a few ones that seemed legit and that had a simple language and didn't sound too alarming and rather only just wanting to spread knowledge about the topic. They all mentioned your symptoms, gave a brief explanation of what it was and the implications did catch his eye, smoothing his finger over the screen as he locked his phone, hearing you stir in the middle of your sleep.

"Hey, bub", you said, approaching him and craddling his arm, "are you feeling better?", he asked, pressing his lips on the top of your head, seeing you nod.

"I was looking up specialists, and I have a few contacts here, I made a little list", he began, "and I know we should've done this together, but I couldn't help myself, and I was looking up a bit more information because I didn't know about it", he scrambled out, "I was not taught this, I don't think anyone is, but I looked it up, and- yeah, there are doctors for these kinds of things and they seem to know what helps and what to do".

He looked so nervous that you felt you were the one to calm him down and reassure him, "hey, one thing at a time, yes?", you urged, grabbing his hand in yours in an attempt of calming him, "thank you for looking them up, I'll see the list and the ones that fit the situation best", you said.

"Fortunately, we have the means to do this and seek help to make you feel better, for all the options we have", your boyfriend continued, "I sort of fell in the spiral of what it would mean and I want to be with you every step of the way".

"As much as I think this is too much, I can't help but be grateful that we can do it, so I'll let you have this one", you smirked, "and like you said, we'll take it one step at a time".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #lance stroll x reader

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 1 year

Text

Speak in Flowers

Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Includes: Victor Creed (Sabertooth), Loki, Thor, Steve Rogers (Captian America), Bucky Barnes (Winter Solider), Bruce Wayne (Batman), Clark Kent (Superman), Arthur Curry (Aquaman), Orm Marius, Joker, Duncan Vizla (Polar)

All my knowledge about the flowers I found on this link

Enjoy this little fluff piece!

Victor Creed (SABERTOOTH)

PINK CAMELLIA: Longing for you

Victor lives his long life with little to no memories, as most are filled with shocking trauma and events. As years passed and you met him, he was emotionally stunned, fearing what to say and show. The relationship was blooming and bubbling into a fresh memory Victor did not want to miss, but his life did not build him that way. Books helped a lot to him, for him to communicate in ways he needed to express to you his love, his devotion, and his happiness.

You keep every single post-it note, notes in your books, phone, and bathroom mirror he has left. Victor wished to show more of himself in small ways. And therefore, he went for a long walk around the city trying to find a token he could present to you with pride. And then he stopped in front of a flower shop, not looking at all the roses it had on display but at the daintiest petals—pink Camellia. An older lady approaches him, saying.

"Their meanings are Longing For You."

Victor's mind clicks, "I'll buy it."

Returning home, he presents the flowers to you with a slightly spoken tone "I thought of you when I saw them."

Loki

HONEYSUCKLE: Bonds of Love

Ever since Loki decided to take the position as Thor's right hand in governing New Asgard, he inescapably made date nights a fantasy to have. Seeing him several times a month and a few weekly calls doesn't leave much to it. It was as heavy for Loki as for you. Two lovers from different realms trying to make it work. With that, the distance made Loki a nuisance to your delivery man. Every day at 11 am, at your door with a package in hand. At this point in time, you are on a first-name basis.

"Morning, Y/n. Back again."

"Morning, Stephen. Thanks again. Have a cookie."

Loki sent small things that could be delivered easier and faster so you could feel his presence somehow. Most of the packages held a few popular treats, accompanied by letters from him depicting how his day was and always, at the end, writing how much he misses you and cannot wait to have you in his arms. In a new package from today, this one was the most fascinating. Opening the brown box, Hologram butterflies exited the box flying around the room, glowing slightly green as they dispersed into thin air. Looking down, you see delicate branches colored with pink and orange petals, each branching out in their own direction, forming a halo-like shape. Opening your phone, you snap a picture and google search for its name

"Honeysuckles? Hmm...Thanks, Wikipedia. Now let us see the meaning."

Bonds of love.

"Oh, how I miss you, Loki."

Thor

MARJORAM: Joy and happiness

Thor was in a tight position. He was now leading New Asgard on Earth and managed to convince you to try and live in this new area so you could be with him. Not ready to fully move there, you decided to live there for the next 3 months, taking a well-deserved break from work. Living there was a new experience, and you were there to witness the city's first town meeting, first competitions, first restaurant openings, and, as of this moment, the first festival with Thor in hand. Even Loki was there looking somewhat happy but primarily absent.

"You good, Loki?"

"A bit. Seeing the Asgardian people happy makes me joyous, but I miss my lover."

"When are you seeing them?"

"In a few days. They do not know. It will be a surprise."

You looked at him, offering a comforting hug as the people walked around enjoying themself. The sky rumbled, announcing Thor's imminent arrival. Thor's step continued to rumble, and Loki stepped away from you, joining the crowd. Thor was now in front of you, smile beaming and hands full of... green leaves?

"MY DARLING!!" Thor shouted

"Thor...no need to shout. I am in front of you."

"Excuse me! Here you go!"

Thor offers the bouquet of green leaves to you. You accept, sniffing the faint smell of herbs.

"Are these used for... cooking?"

"Yes, I mean, no. Well, the nice lady in the flower shop told me they complement any meat, fish, or vegetable."

"Thanks, I guess..."

"That is not the point of those flowers. Their meanings are Joy and Happiness. Which I feel those feelings when I am with you."

Thor explained nervously, glancing at you with hearty eyes, hoping you would like them as much as he loves you.

"I love you... and the flowers." you replied

Bucky Barnes (Winter Solider)

BLUE AND RED SALVIA: I think of you/ Forever mine

Bucky loves love. Because of you. He cherished the moments he got to experience in this new modern life when he thought it would be a throw-away line. He adored each of those love-filled moments and loved making them even more. Bucky had a small notebook at all times with him where he wrote each moment he did with you, keeping an excellent timeline as well as future notes on what he should do next time. While looking at his notebook, he noticed the lack of gift-giving, especially flowers. Flowers for Bucky where a personalized and live-like message for your lover. And therefore, he decided to find flowers that were the definition of BUCKY. Walking to market place, Bucky walked among the fresh fruits and produce, looking and thinking until his gaze was filled with so many flowers. Stopping at the sight, Bucky hears a thoughtful voice inquiring

"Looking for a unique flower?"

"Yes, for my partner. Something that would depict me as a flower, if there is a flower like that." Bucky speaks self-doubt lacing his voice

"Of course there is; flowers speak many languages."

Bucky nodded, looking at the flowers stopping at two different versions of the same densely packed tubular flowers with velvety leaves. Red and blue.

"Those are Salvia. The red ones mean 'Forever Mine', and the blue ones mean 'I Think Of You'. Hummingbirds and butterflies love them."

"I do call Y/n hummingbird from time to time." Bucky whispered while taking out his wallet to pay, "I'll take them both."

Arriving in a better mood back home, Bucky found his love lounging on the couch. Walking to you with light ninja steps, he placed the flowers in front of you.

"Suprise!"

Steve Rogers (Captian America)

HOLLY: Defense, Domestic Happiness

Steve was on many missions, which were given with his work/lifestyle. So he relished in it when he was home with you. His housewife kink was really showing (if you know what I mean *wink wink*). He adored it when he was doing the laundry with you, doing the dishes, decorating the room the way you like, and planting new herbs and vegetables in your garden. Steve was sold on the whole fantasy he has with you. And he wanted you to show you that. Everyday. Every second.

With that, Steve went on a hunt to find flowers he knew would communicate that. Steve hopped onto a public train in his best 'don't look at me, I know I am famous' disguise, glimpsing at the passing city inching closer to the town center and hopping off his stop going towards a flower shop as he goes cautiously to the lady

"Good day, ma'am. The name is Frank Castle, and I am looking for a flower that would communicate that I love my home and my partner." Steve said, trying not to be suspicious of his 'real name.'

"That name rings a bell, but you don't seem familiar from the photos I have seen of 'Frank.'" The lady says with a hint of suspicion in her voice, looking at the tall blonde up and down. But he wasn't the only one who appeared in front of her with a fake name, and she was a pro at sniffing out a fake. Nonetheless, she wasn't going to put the man in a tight spot.

"Is there a flower you like? Any flower that speaks to you?" She asked. Steve, I mean Frank, looks at the flowers, seeing all kinds of colors and textures in an ecstasy of nature's artistic expression. Finding a dainty four-petal flower so tiny and minuscule an untrained eye would not catch its beauty.

"That is a Holly. They mean 'Defense' and 'Domestic Happiness'." Steve smiled at the flowers that were the size of a pin, smiling gleefully, "I'll take them."

Walking back home with a bouquet in hand, steve opens the door seeing Y/n making dinner. "Y/n? Turn around." Turning around, steve smiles at your surprised smile, appearing in a second when seeing the flowers.

"A little something so you know what I feel when I am with you."

Bruce Wayne (Batman)

IRIS: Faith, Trust, Wisdom, Hope, Valor

Bruce knew he had it good with you. Really good. You were so, so SO understanding of him, his actions, and his double life. Not even once doubting him but being there with him. Bruce wanted you to know how much he loves you for that, and there were so many ways he could show you that. Trips, gifts, new adventures in new parts of the world, you name it, he will give it to you in seconds. But Bruce remembered that the smallest things mean the most, something he learned from his father when he saw him give his mother flowers every single day when returning from work. As Bruce was in his 'day' office, he called up a number of the oldest flower shop in Gotham, knowing the owner quite well.

"Mr. Wayne. Good to hear from you." The lady said happily

"Mrs. Flowerbottom. Always good to hear from you as well. I would need your expertise. I have been with my lover for a few months now, and I would like some flowers that describe them."

"Of course. And how would you describe your lover, Mr. Wayne?" "They are smart, brave, trust me, and I trust them, and quite simply, they are my hope for a better future." The lady chuckles at the honey-covered words from the billionaire former playboy looking at flowers that describe y/n to the bone.

"I am looking at them right now. Would you like to add a note?" "Yes, it would be: "Thank you for being yourself. I love you with all my strength and heart. Yours always, Bruce.""

Hanging up and finishing up the day, Bruce entered his car smiling, knowing that in a few hours, his lover will a unique surprise back in their shared home. Arriving back at Wayne manor. Bruce looks at the enormous bouquet of Hydrangeas standing proudly in the middle of the living room, a small note with a definition of irises at the bottom of the bouquet

IRIS: Faith, Trust, Wisdom, Hope, Valor

The keys jingle again as you enter, seeing Bruce standing next to the bouquet, saying softly

"These are for you."

Clark Kent (Superman)

YARROW: Everlasting love

Clark was a Boy Scout. Everyone called him that; the man was a boy at heart personified. His smile never dropped, he was always ready to help others, and he was a lovesick puppy at heart. So lovesick. Clark breathed you. His demeanor changed completely when he was with you. He was and still is diving head-first into the relationship. Telling you about his plans with you having a house, having kids, and an all-around perfect life. He wanted it with you.

Clark made it his everlasting task to bring you home flowers every day after work. To show you that he loves you to the ends of the universe and back. One day when he was going to his usual flower shop he saw new flowers, flowers that weren't there yesterday. And those flowers beckoned him to come closer, sniff them, and be entranced in their intoxicating smell. "They are called Yarrow." the lady said, smiling at the glasses-wearing dork. "They mean Everlasting Love."

Clark smiles at the yellow droplet-like flowers taking them in hand and smelling the sweet and tangy fragrance. Waving the lady goodbye, promising to arrive again tomorrow as he heads home to his love. Hearing the door open, you walk towards Clark, ready to give him his welcome home kiss, but before you can do that, Clark shows you yellow flowers with the tangiest smell.

"For my everlasting love."

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

ASTER: Symbol of Love and Daintiness

Arthur loved to scare and surprise you. He loved to go behind the couch to scare you and then present you with a small gift to make you not angry at him. Trinkets such as seashells, funny coffee mugs, or even t-shirts were out of context and confusing. It was funny, really. And sometimes Arthur can go overboard with the scares to the point where you get mad at him and make him sleep on the couch. Like today, Arthur woke up with a stiff neck and aching back while you were well-slept and making yourself your morning tea. Arthur messed up big time, and he was on a mission to make it better by the end of the day. Running like a headless chicken to town, Arthur zoomed past people startling them along the way. Halting to a stop, he sees his salvation, a flower shop. Walking inside, he is greeted by a lady seeing him disheveled and out of breath.

"Please, help me. I messed up with my dove, and I need your best flowers." He pleaded

"Look around the store and see what flower catches your attention." Looking around the room, Arthur spins a few times around, his mind starting to blur, dizziness taking over his decision process. Slowing down, his body turns to a corner of the room with purple-colored daisy flowers.

"The daisies!" Arthur exclaimed, pointing at them like a 3-year-old kid. The lady chuckles as she walks over to them, taking them out of the vase. "They are called Asters. They mean Symbol of Love and Daintiness."

"Well, my dove is dainty and my symbol of love. I'll take them." You watch from the window as Arthur walks back home with flowers in hand, a big smile on his face. The door unlocks, and you make yourself busy by staring blankly at your book as Arthur inches closer, extending his hand which held the flowers. Looking at him, uninterested, he says

"They are called Asters. They are symbols of Love and Daintiness. And to me, you are both. And I am sorry to scare you so much, and I love you."

"....fine. I accept your apologies.Dumbass."

Orm Marius

CALLA LILY : Beauty

Orm had a first relationship with a human. A surface dweller. Someone he held no positive emotions, and yet...he was smitten. So much so that he decided to live with them a few days a week as a start. Orm felt himself stumble into a new world, a world where some souls expressed themself with care, actions, words, or even presents, the most popular being flowers. As Orm walked around town with his chosen love, he saw a flower shop looking at the offers they had. Letting go of Y/n's hand, he walks over using the given time while Y/n's distracted by the fountain waterworks. Stepping closer, he stops at tubular shape flowers.

"They are Calla Lilly. They are extraordinary flowers." the lady working speaks to Orm. "Why are they special?" Orm asks, looking confused at the white flowers.

"They mean beauty. In their own language," she explained.

"The flowers have their own language?"

"Yes, in a way. The flowers you give to your loved ones can be interpreted in a special way beyond the aesthetic." Orm thought for a second before taking out 5 dollars." I have one paper on this currency. Is that enough to cover the whole store?"

The lady laughed at his bluntness as she took the bill and handed him 3 Lillies. "No, but it gives you 3 calla lilies."Orm grunts at his failure but nonetheless smiles as he walks back to Y/n, handing the Lillies.

"These are for you, my beauty."

Joker

YELLOW JASMINE: Grace and Elegance

J tried to keep his job away from you. he tried to divide his "job" away from your eyes, ears, and hands. But it was not something he had complete control over it. Most of the time, he arrived bruised and bloodied while you played nurse. And he wanted to show you in his own way what you mean to him. So he took you in his purple Lamborghini towards the end of the city, a place that would not be considered part of Gotham, a shrouded place, abandoned houses, people looking at you like with a predator-like gaze. Joker held your hand as you walked towards a tiny restaurant you would surely miss if you did not see the small sign at the bottom of the floor spelling out 'Eat in, not out'.

Entering the place, you and J sit next to each other, and you start to ask questions. This wasn't the place where you two would usually go. No glitz and glamour, expensive tiny dishes that would cost an arm and leg, views that would depict the whole Gotham feeling as if you were running the town. It was all swapped with a one-room-sized restaurant without photos, calendars showing the year 2012, and an elderly woman standing in front of you

"Good to see you, J." She spoke her voice gravely, but her perfume was flowery intoxicating

"And you as well, Mrs. Flowerbottom. For tonight I brought my special person here, and I would like your best dish combo."

Mrs. Flowerbottom smiled lovely at you moving back into the kitchen, and you felt just more question bubble in you.

"You come here often?" You asked, looking at him with more question marks in your eyes.

"I was living here at one point. When I had no money when I was younger, I slept on the floor where we are. This place means a lot to me."

While J spoke, Mrs. Flowerbottom brought out chicken soup on a tray, the bowls big enough for 3 people. And next to the food on J's side, she puts flowers with the same sweet perfume Mrs. Flowerbottom was shrouded in. The small clusters of starry, pure-white petals with rich green leaves. J takes them giving them to you.

"I know that I am not good with words, but I have learned that yellow jasmines mean grace and elegance. And I will give you that. By opening myself up and my history with you."

Kissing his lips, you reply, "I would love that."

Duncan Vizla (Polar)

LOTUS FLOWER: Purity, Enlightenment, Self-regeneration, and Rebirth

Duncan felt his way of life changed because of you. You two lived in his cabin next to the lake, shrouded in snow, away from people, enjoying nature's ambiance, feeling thankful for the experience you are sharing with your Donut. Duncan felt himself being happy. He enjoys chopping wood outside in the freezing cold, knowing that he is chopping them for a fire where he will sit behind you, telling his stories about when he was 'working' back in the day. But Duncan wasn't too much of a gift-giver. He was still finding himself in this relationship. And while Duncan was chopping wood, he saw you peaking outside the window, a blanket on your shoulder looking so cozy and inviting him in. Seeing you wave and then moving back in the room, Duncan stopped his actions and walked behind the house and behind a few trees into the woods, seeing the small Polly dom he made no bigger than a 1-meter squared cube. Removing the shrouded small man-made pond was holding his hard work. He managed to grow louts flowers in this weather and in this land. But thanks to the guidance of a sweet lady, he did a good job.

"Thank you, Mrs. Flowerbottom." He said into the cold wind. Taking his flowers and putting them in a basket, he walks into his home. The warm ambiance melted off his cold shake. And you see Duncan with a small grin, and you know he did something he shouldn't

"If you killed someone and buried them in the back, I do not want to know, Duncan." Duncan laughs as he hands you the cloth-covered basket.

"I didn't kill anyone, but I did something for you." With a puzzled look, you remove the cloth seeing pink lotus flowers, the fragrance filling your nose."

"When did you buy them?" You asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I didn't. I planted them a few months ago."

"Why louts? They are so hard to grow here."

Duncan sits down, looking at you with a warm smile as he holds your hands, rubbing small circles of comfort.

"Because I learned they mean Purity, Enlightenment, Self-regeneration, and Rebirth... which reminds me of you. And a bit of me as well. More so, the rebirth. I feel like a new man with you, with a new life."

Feeling eyes prickle in your eyes, you say with a soft chuckle, "You really know how to make me ugly cry, Donut."

Hope you liked it! Tell me what you think.-V

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 8 months

Note

Can we have a deeper analysis in Sabo's shape language study please? It's amazing how you make him give different vibes with just his hair and I like to understand how does that work.

Oh. I'm SO glad you asked.

(The Post In Question)

Okay so this isnt the first post ive made about shape language,

Here are the others:

ASL Shapes Strawhats Shapes

i'm just gonna copy and paste the definition i have for shape language from those posts here so i dont have to write it all again.

Shape language is defined as “a concept used in art and animation to communicate meaning based on shapes we are familiar with” (source). This concept uses circles, triangles, and squares to convey an idea of the “personality” of the design without using any words.

In designs, using circles and rounded edges in your silhouette and detailing gives the design a soft and squishy look. They tend to be harmless, approachable, or changeable.

Designs using squares gives the design a solid, sturdy, and strong look. They are supportive, reliable, and inflexible

Lastly, triangle designs are sharp and directional. They are dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable.

That's base level but here's more in depth description of each design for ya:

this one is up first!

You may notice how in this design, his hair isnt in large clumps like the others are. His hair falls delicately and waves gently with little to no hard angles.

In this design, i was trying to convey the idea of "he wasnt born to fight, but he's molded himself into someone who will." I tried to depict that by making his hair all light and feathery, his facial features soft and rounded, but also showing how he's modified his body in a pointy and aggressive way.

I didn't want to only go hard edges with the piercings though because much like he's strayed from his mold of being delicate, he's also strayed from his mold of being a cruel noble. so some of his piercings are rings, AKA: Circles.

You may also notice the different in how I've drawn the collars of these guys. the collar of this Babo's black coat falls softly, and its' arc is rounded. The shoulders don't have any padding and it rounds at the corner.

This Man Is Round.

Next up is this Freak

This is supposed to be Triangle Him.

His hair is in larger, hard angled clumps. Indicating that he probably cut his hair himself. He did... greattt. I already headcannon him as someone who cuts his own hair, but i dont think this one ever gets any better at it.

The hard angles on his teeth, his scar, his jaw, his collar, that line i forgot to erase on the left, and his coat all give indication that this guy is Dangerous and you probably shouldnt mess with him.

I didn't have any real deeper meaning to this version, I just wanted to make him look as opposing as I could. this guy is "what you see is pretty much what you get."

Even though he doesn't have a lot of deeper meaning, I think this one is my favorite of the designs. I really love these colors on him and his hair was really fun to draw. I think I wanna draw him again at some point. I think this version of him would be very funny paired with Koala. I'm chuckling thinking about it:

Koala and her Armed and On Fire kindergartener

And lastly this guy

Sabo's base design is very rectangle coded. From his Hat, to his face shape, to his coat. So this version was very easy to make as I didn't actually need to change that much!

I think maybe I could've made his design a little more complex? But also I think there is a beauty in simplicity for this one. He looks straightforward, reliable, and kind. He seems like the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty, not because he likes doing it, but because he does what he must for the greater good.

I really love his hazel eyes, too. I think it brings a nice warmth to his design that is really nice.

Additional comments:

I love talking about this stuff. I love designing. I love art. I love drawing so much it's so fun

Everytime I get to sit down and make some funky doodles my brain feels like 🧠🤸🧘🧜🧚🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🧚💃💃💃💃💃💃

If you got this far thanks for reading :)

I usually have a description for my designs and my choices and stuff and I forgot to do one for this post, it makes me happy to see that it was missed :)

#ask reply #@naniguini #shape language

187 notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 1 year

Text

Tells Me We're Not Done

Part 2 to Something in the Orange.

this is so long tumblr is making me put it in two parts, adding part 3 after this!

Genre: Angst/Fluffy

Warnings: depictions of sex, stay safe, kiddos!

Word Count: 15k between here and part 3

Summary: Peter does his best to win you back after he dumps you.

The Parker household could be eerily quiet.

Funny how you never noticed it before, usually the giggles escaping your mouth as Peter pinched lightly anywhere he could reach would fill the empty spaces. Or you could hear the whisper of Mays TV in her room, maybe even Peter as he danced around in the kitchen making grilled cheeses or grabbing you stashed soda.

But right now in Peter’s room all you hear is the hum of the AC, and the drips coming from his bathroom sink, he needs to turn it off all the way. You hear the slow whoosh of cars passing by several floors down, you hear Peter’s fingers tapping on the kitchen counter, you can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s looking for something or he’s trying to think of something to say, anything to break the silence.

You hadn’t looked at Peter since you got here, you didn’t even speak to him.

“Hey! I’m glad you could still find the place.” He tried to joke. Tried.

You nodded your head and swerved around him into his room, you set your bag higher on your shoulders, and then you felt very aware of your surroundings. It’s been a while since you’ve been in his room, it was almost comedic, this was always where you felt the most safe but you have never been more on edge than right now.

Where did you sit?

On his bed? Too many memories, the way he fit over your body perfectly. The bed where he made you feel loved and protected and safe and treasured? No, you can’t sit there.

At his desk? The same one you would sit across his lap on, the one that you had begged a time or two to get off his game so he could get on you? The same desk he’s bent you over? No, you can’t sit there.

Peter watches you move your head around his space before your shoulders slump with defeat and you throw your backpack off and drop to the floor sitting crisscross.

The floor was safe, nothing happened on the floor.

“Want anything to eat? Something to drink?”

The carefulness in his voice, the comforting gesture made the hair on your neck raise, you didn’t say a word.

You didn’t want to be here, that was well known.

Peter sighed and made himself absent, it didn’t feel good to him either. Knowing that this is your worst nightmare and you were currently experiencing it made him feel pretty shitty, it doesn’t help that you won’t give him anything to work with either.

You stared at the carpet long enough to see swirls and shapes, tracing with your hands. Your brain made a pattern with the sink drips, pause, pause, pause, drip. Pause, pause, pause, drip. It began moving in sync with Peter’s finger tapping in the kitchen, pause, pause, pause, drip, tap. Pause, pause, pause, drip, tap.

What deity did you piss off to put you in this position?

The words echo as your hand pushes the carpet one way, darker, the other way, lighter.

“Y/N and Peter. Y/N and Peter. Y/N and Peter.”

It happened Wednesday, and now it was Saturday.

“I have some news. We are breaking down points in history and colliding them with story acts. You have all been assigned a partner and will have two weeks to complete it. We finish next Wednesday, but you’ll be getting your partners today and you can start working on it now. Get an idea, I’ll be passing out sheets with different points in history you can pull from.”

She rolled her eyes when the class groaned, “Yeah, yeah. If you want to let the creativity flow feel free to pull a moment on your own. I’m letting you guys take the rein on this, have fun! Express yourselves!”

You blew a heavy breath, you haven’t paid attention in months and now you were being thrown into a massive assignment. Mrs. Bender approached the front of the room and grabbed a stack of papers. “Y/N, Tonya, please pass these out to your classmates.”

The stack was split and she handed you each one and you both went to separate sides of the room. You started in front and worked towards the back, the fourth table was MJ and Peter. You gave one to MJ and met her eyes, “Hi.” She smiled back, “Hey.”

You let one fall to the middle of the desk, the paper sweeping the air before sliding across the slick black table and falling to the ground. You shrugged at the paper on the floor and shrugged, “Oops.” You stepped on the front of the page and made your way to the table behind them.

Peter watched MJ smirk, he turned his gaze to the ground and picked up his paper stamped with your shoe print.

“These will be your partners, no exchanges or substitutions allowed. Tonya and Brent. MJ and Kate. Yousif and Rusty. Drea and Drake. Cory and Becca. Y/N and Peter.”

Your eyes shot up to the room, your heart was racing. This couldn’t be happening, not him. Not your ex, you literally begged him to hook up and he left. You told him everything was a front, that you still lo- No. Don’t think about that.

This was a nightmare. Your cheeks burst with heat, your heart hit your rib cage with each thump, your palms become sweaty on the tabletop. You had to keep swallowing the saliva building in your mouth, scared that you’d puke if you stopped.

The teacher just kept going like she didn’t end your world.

“Dustin and Vanessa. Forrest an-“ You cut her off and shoved a hand in the air before speaking.

“No! No, No, Absolutely not!” Peter’s head shot to yours. The other students were already moving around matching up with their partners.

“What was that?” The teacher stopped her rambles.

“Please. Anyone else, I’ll do anything. I’ll clean your car, I’ll do Saturday school until the end of year! I’ll even stay late and grade your last classes work! Please, anything!” You pleaded.

“No exceptions, it’s not fair to everyone else.” She shrugged her shoulders and tried to continue.

“What if I work alone?” You stood at your desk.

“No.” She flipped her grade book.

You huffed and swore under your breath.

“Fine! I won’t do it then!” You threatened no one but yourself.

“Ms. Y/N do I need to remind you of your circumstance? You don’t do this project, you’re out of here. Permanently.” She raised an eyebrow and taunted you, she wanted to see how you would react.

You threw your hands up and slumped back on your seat. “Yeah! I know! I know!”

Even being paired with Peter wouldn’t make you talk to him, and bless his heart for trying. He’s tried cornering you in school, he’s tried calling (and was ignored immediately), he even showed up at your window but all he received was an unwavering middle finger until he slowly crept away.

His last ditch was a text, ‘Hey. I know you don’t want to talk to me, but we need to get this done. Come to mine tonight?’

He wasn’t expecting a response, and you didn’t give one. You just showed up.

“Water?”

He held out a bottle and you sniffed, dragging your knee to your chin you turned the other way. Peter placed it next to you anyways.

“You sure you don’t wanna sit up here?” Peter tapped the space next to him on the bed.

“I’m fine where I am.” The first words you spoke to him all week and they were just as distant and cold as when you told him you hated him. He never really believed that, but now he was.

“I can pull my desk chair over, or I can get one from the kitchen-”

“I said I’m fine.” You cut him off and listened to the empty space, you relied on the drips like a metronome. Then the hum of the AC, and new to the mix was Peter breathing. It wasn’t loud but it was steady, something to build off of. If you tried really, really hard maybe you could hear the blood pumping in and out of his heart.

“What do you smell right now?” The carpet was leaving an almost itchy feeling on your fingertip but you kept swirling it, scared if you stopped they would shake.

“Uh, I don’t know. I can smell your perfume, and I think Mr. Denison next door is making cookies or banana bread.” Confused. He was confused.

“Not like that. Me.”

Peter’s eyes widened. It was very rare for you to ask him to use his senses on you, it’s not like he had a choice, it would happen regardless. But he respected that you didn’t want to know, or didn’t care to, so unless you asked he never brought it up.

He breathed out slowly and took an inhale at the same rate, he looked at you and frowned slightly. You wouldn’t look at him still, you were turned from him and curled inwards trying to get as far away from him as possible.

“Scared. Nervous. Anxious. Upset. Sad. Hurt.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Was that Spidey, or was that your intuition?”

“A little of both.”

Drip, pause, pause, pause, drip.

“I’m sorry, by the way. I don’t think I ever told you that, but I am.”

You looked at him for the first time in a week, you actually recognized him as a human.

“For what?”

“Hurting you. Breaking up with you, making you hate me. Fuck, I don’t know, Y/N. Can I just give you an umbrella apology?”

You nodded at him.

Drip.

“How would we move past this?”

“What do you mean?” Peter can’t help his spirits get slightly lifted at that.

“I don’t know how to look at you and not be overwhelmed with sadness, Peter. You were my entire fucking life and it was smashed in one night. And I know you’re trying to fix it, and I really want you to. I want to go back like nothing ever happened but it did. It did happen, and you really, really hurt me. So how do we get past this?”

“How can I give you that kind of power again?” You added with a whisper, you laid a cheek on your knee and closed your eyes.

Drip. Pause, pause, pause. Drip.

Peter breathes once, twice, three times, drip. Peter rubs his pant leg against the bed, the comforter ruffles, he breathes, drip, drip, drip.

You can’t stand it anymore, now you understand why Chinese water torture is mind exploding.

“I don’t know, but it’s not up to me anymore.” Peter’s turn to keep his sight from you.

“What does that mean?” You nearly wince at your voice. Why did you sound so sad?

Peter looks you in the eye, it wasn’t his decision anymore. That much was clear.

“I hurt you, I broke your trust. I did the worst thing to you I could’ve ever done. It’s up to you now, what do you want? Do you want to be friends, never speak to me again, or maybe somewhere in the middle?”

You chew your bottom lip and look his face over.

Drip.

You think of each time you’ve kissed his cheeks, each time you’ve counted his freckles while he’s slept, each time you traced over his features, every moment of him being yours came in a flash.

Drip.

More than anything in the world, you missed loving him like you could lose him. There was nothing so delicate and private in the world.

Drip.

“I know what I want.” The words were a whisper, scared to say them aloud, scared to whisper them into admission.

“Tell me.” His tone matched yours, he was just as scared to hear it as you were to say it.

Drip.

“I want you to win me back.”

You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Peter smile like that, not since he was yours.

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip failing to catch the growing grin.

“I can do that.” He nods.

“I can do that.”

—-------------------

Flowers everyday.

That’s how it started.

On Monday they were purple Hyacinths, left outside your front door with a small handwritten note: Sorrow, please forgive me.

You’re reminded of every time Peter’s tried to get your attention with a wave or a smile or even tried to offer an olive branch by walking you home.

Tuesday they were red Tulips with a similar note attached: Believe me, my feelings are true.

You know he’s sorry, he’s made that much clear.

Wednesday they were Violets: I’ll always be there.

Even when you haven’t wanted him.

Before the presentation in class Hydrangeas were left in your locker: Good luck and fortune.

Thursday were mixed Zinnias: Thinking in memory of an absent friend and lasting affection.

He’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him.

Friday was a Gladioli: Give me a break, I am really sincere.

He’s asking you to trust him one more time.

Saturday morning there were several flowers and notes outside of your window.

A Coreopsis: Always cheerful.

You’ve made him so happy.

A Lily of the Valley: A return to happiness, you’ve made my life complete.

You give him something to look forward to.

A Dandelion: Faithfulness and happiness.

Something he can rely on.

A Lavender stem: Admiration.

He doesn’t know how someone could be so perfect.

A red Carnation: My heart aches for you.

He hasn’t ever known pain that ebbs so deep into him.

A Sweet-Pea: Thank you for a lovely time.

You gave him a true meaning in life, not Spider-Man, Peter. You gave Peter a meaning.

A Forget-Me-Not: True love and memories.

It really was true love, there was nothing more pure about it.

A Narcissus: Stay as sweet as you are.

He can only hope he hasn’t damaged that.

A Petunia: Your presence soothes me.

You have a presence that calms him, it’s a talent only you and Aunt May possess.

A Camellia: I’m longing for you.

He’s thought of you everyday since he ended it.

A Daffodil: You’re the only one, the sun is only shining when I’m with you.

Everything's better when you’re around.

Finally a Primrose: I can’t live without you.

Because he really can’t.

On Sunday you caught him in the act.

Dressed in dark tan khakis, a blue plaid button down and a dark gray jacket. His Nike shoes matched the hints of dark blues in his shirt, his hair looked extra fluffy today. You always begged him to grow it longer, sometimes he would appease you and wait an extra week or two before he chopped it but the past month he’s let it grow, long curls framed his face and all you wanted to do was tangle them around your fingers.

“Careful, another bouquet and I’ll have to start my own nursery.” You chided him and grinned when his cheeks flushed briefly after he slightly jumped unaware of your lurking presence.

“Were you waiting for me?” His hand was behind his back, you were eager to see the flower of the day.

“Maybe. It’s impressive how you’ve dropped them all week without me seeing you. Are you using your stealth secrets on me?”

“I could be, It’s better to see your reaction when I’m not in front of you. It seems more authentic.”

“Oh, when you’re not in front of me? Does that mean you’re lurking around watching me like some kind of stalker?” You grinned at his caught look, he didn’t mean to let that slip, but he was going to lean into it.

“I just want to make sure you get them, I don’t want some sorry guy coming by stealing my tactics.”

“Have you watched me before? Cause I swear I’ve got the feeling someone is just out of sight on a roof I can’t see.” You hinted at his alter ego and watched him nonchalantly shrug.

“Sometimes. Mostly at night when you were alone, I used to walk you home, you know. What if some guy from Ryker's got out and thought you were an ex that locked them up and you got stabbed to death?”

Your eyes widened. “Is that the stuff you worried about when we broke up?”

We. No, ‘when you’, it was we.

“Like a mantra.”

A frown crossed your face. “Here I was worried you weren’t going to know how to put your own band-aids on, nice to know you are still obsessed over me.”

“Always have, always will.” He smiled and remembered why he was here.

“I have something for you.”

You grinned and made grabby hands, “Lemme see it!”

“It’s not a flower.”

You pouted and booed.

“Let me give you mine first then.”

Peter’s eyebrows raised, “You have something for me?”

“Yeah, hold on.” You dipped back into your room for a moment and emerged with a small pot, three short green stalks were bunched together. You held it out for him to grab, one hand was kept behind his back.

He looked at you and waited for the explanation.

“It’s a lucky bamboo. It symbolizes growth and renewal, something for a new life stage. I thought it was fitting.”

He hugged it tight to his chest, “Thank you. I love it, I am gonna nurture the fuck out of this. His name is gonna be Groot, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You both just smiled at each other for a moment too long, almost forgetting why you were both here. You think Peter lent in for a second before jumping slightly, he remembered why he came.

“Here’s yours.”

Peter passed you a folded up paper, you looked confused but grabbed it from him. You looked up to catch him grinning at his branches and he whispered something to the green before nodding at you to unfold the paper.

Inside were two printed tickets to the Planetarium, you gasped and dropped your jaw. You looked towards him and he was already smiling at your reaction.

“Oh my god, Peter!”

You rushed forward with a squeal and crushed him in a hug, both of your arms wrapped around his, he let out a ‘oof’ and pulled one arm from under yours to wrap it around you. You pushed forward just a little closer, resting your cheek against his chest, he felt warm and sturdy. No matter how much time passed you missed this the most, just feeling him, and feeling like nothing could harm you.

“Did I do good?” His words felt like vibrations in your cheek.

“Amazing!” You grinned up at him and pushed yourself to your tiptoes to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He paused for a second, shock in his system. You kissed him. Well, not a full on kiss, but it was a hint of one.

“Well then, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You smiled so wide you bit your bottom lip trying to rein it in.

“I would love to.”

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

A date it was.

Peter pulled out all the stops, he took you to a nice dinner, one where they had a candle on the table and ketchup wasn’t available. He even looked over the menu beforehand and let you know what he thinks you would like, not that you can’t make your own choices but new restaurants always give you a little anxiety. You were unsure what you would like and felt like you were wasting time looking over the menu rereading the same summaries hoping one would jump out at you.

Then after dinner he gave you his jacket, walking down the street you were confused when he didn’t call for a taxi but followed him anyway. You looked down at his hand next to yours and grabbed it, then he intertwined them and pulled you to the side of a building. You looked up at the sign and then him.

“Chocolatier?”

He pulled an eyebrow up, “You didn’t think I forgot about dessert did you?

“I’m getting two slices of cake.” You moved to pull him inside, he followed behind and you both paused at the door inhaling the sweet scent blowing in your faces.

“As long as I can get a bite.”

“We’ll see.”

After dessert he took you to the planetarium and you gazed up in awe at the constellations. The seats were recliners and lent all the way back so you had undivided attention at the ceiling.

“Which one is that?” You pointed up at a stack of stars, they almost made the shape of a person. Peter followed your finger up, “That one?” He pointed at the same star, you nod.

“Andromeda. A Greek princess.”

“Ooh. Wait, where is the big bear and little bear?” You moved your head but couldn’t place it, those were your favorites.

Peter grabbed your hand and pointed up at them, he traced the stars with your finger, “Big bear,” then lowered your hand, moved it slightly and traced again, “Little bear.” A soft smile crossed your face, you always thought of those as you and Peter, you followed him around mimicking his antidotes and sidekicking every bit of the way.

You moved in closer to Peter and turned halfway to rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him from your eyes you shuffled in deeper.

“Tell me all about the ones you know.”

And he did, he took you through each one slowly, sometimes picking your hand up to point at them and trace the lines so you knew exactly what he was talking about. Peter spoke quietly and calmly, you were the only ones in the room but it still felt extremely private, this was a moment for you and him only.

“This one is Apus, the bird of paradise. This one is supposed to be the beak, and this one is the tail. And this one is Ara, it’s an altar that was used by Gods before battle with the Titans to vow their allegiance.” He traced the outline and you stared in awe.

“And this one here is Aquila,”

“It looks like an eagle.”

“It is! Look at you, smartie.”

“He was the retriever of Zeus’s thunderbolts.”

“Oh! And look at this one here, this one is really cool. It’s Antlia, and it’s my favorite because it literally translates to-”

You stopped him with a kiss.

It was slow, you moved against each other for a minute or two. You weren’t all over each other, it wasn’t full of passion and heat. It was a kiss that meant more than that, it was trust, it was giving, it was kind. It was love, you both felt it.

“Air pump. It translates to air pump.”

His first words when you broke away, his eyes blinked open slowly and he looked towards you. You couldn’t help yourself and lent in for one more, it was shorter. Just a little longer than a peck.

“What was that for?” Peter was breathless, he wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting anything like that for a while.

“Because I think you’re lovely.”

“That's funny, because I think you’re lovelier.”

You frowned for a moment, you didn’t feel lovely.

The past week you’ve done a lot of reflecting. You hadn’t been kind, or nice, or patient with Peter like he’s been with you. Instead you’ve been bitter, mean, and miserable. It wasn’t right, if you love someone you don’t treat them like that.

“I’m not. Or at least I haven’t been. And, I’m sorry too, by the way.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Being the worst. I was so caught up in being hurt and mad at you I forgot you were hurting too. I think I forgot that even though you might have ended it, it hurt you too. And I’m sure I made it worse for you because I took all my hurt and anger out on you, I never should’ve said all those things. I should’ve never said I hate you, that was low and dirty of me. I don’t hate you, at all. I don’t think I ever could, actually. I just wanted to make you hurt like I did, but it made me feel worse because you didn’t deserve that. So, I’m sorry.”

You blinked back tears, it was a good night so far and you didn’t want to ruin it with waterworks.

“Oh, baby. C’mere.” Peter held you into him and kissed the top of your head.

“It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it, and it sucked but I get why you did it. You just wanted to make it even, doesn’t make it right but you needed to work through it. Just promise me you’ll never say it again, I don’t know if I can handle that again.” He pinched at your side and smiled when he made you giggle.

“Deal.” You kissed his cheek and breathed in his neck, you missed his smell.

“I missed you calling me that.” Your words were muffled, a vulnerable admission.

“What, baby?” You nodded in his neck.

“I can start doing it again, it’s yours anyways.”

“I’d like that, Petey.” You smile pulling away.

Peter slapped a hand over his chest. “Be still, my heart.”

“I thought you hated that nickname?”

“I did. Until I didn’t hear it for four months.”

You giggled and looked at the stars once more. It was a perfect night, but you couldn’t help but think about how many nights like this you’ve missed out on since things ended.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Peter picked your hand up and kissed the back of it.

“Anything.”

“Why did you end it?”

Lips froze on your hand. It was obvious he wasn’t expecting that.

“Baby, listen to me. Tonight was a good night, right?”

You nodded. “The best.”

“I don’t want to ruin tonight, and I’m not saying you are. I would be. We’ll talk about it, I promise. But I don’t want to tonight, is that okay?”

“You would ruin the night?”

“It’s hard for me to talk about it. No one knows the full story, and you’ll be the only one who gets it. I just don’t want to open that door tonight. Is that okay?”

You wanted to ask why it was hard for him to talk about it, and why he never told anyone the real reason, but that would defeat the purpose of him not wanting to talk about it.

“That’s okay. We’ve got nothing but time.”

Peter looked at you for a second soaking your words in.

“You sure?”

You kissed him once more, a promise.

“Positive. Now tell me which one that is.”

—————————————————

The next two weeks went by slowly, you never did get that reasoning. It wasn't an omission on Peter’s part but you’ve both been busy doing other things and it hasn’t really crossed your mind, and the times it did it didn’t feel like the right time to bring it up again.

You slowly started to integrate your life back with Peter’s.

It started with sitting with him, Ned and MJ at lunch, Betty too when she wasn’t in the TV room piecing together her next segment for the morning announcements. Then Peter started walking to class with you holding your books or backpack when it got too heavy, and then finally you let him sit next to you in shared classes again.

“Psst. Peter.”

He kept his eyes on the board trying to copy down the words from the slide before they disappeared, this teacher changed slides too quickly. You were trying to copy the last slide from his paper but his arm blocked off part of what you needed.

“Peter.” You whispered again but he kept going, to be fair he did have a headphone in. He was having a bad sense day, everything was just a bit too much for him, which is why he’s been clinging to you all day. For whatever reason you always calmed it down for him, sometimes you made it worse when things were getting a bit too physical, but usually you calmed him.

“Babe?”

His head whipped to yours, that's the first time you’ve dropped that line on him.

“Yes?”

You pointed at your sheet where it dropped off and pouted, “Help.”

He immediately moved his arm and pushed his paper towards you a bit more and watched as you scratched down his notes, someone coughed and his ears rang, then again, and again. He started to shake his leg, then someone started to sniffle, it felt like it was in his head. Without pausing you wrapped your left arm around his elbow and scribbled a bit faster, if he was focusing on something it made it a little easier. His foot stopped instantly, and the noises became more muffled.

“All done. Thanks.” You pushed it back his way but kept your arm around his, he wouldn’t ask for it but you knew he needed it.

“Anytime.” You know he means it.

After the bell rang he stood pushing things in his backpack, you did the same and lingered for a moment, he grabbed your hand and walked with you out the classroom.

“Would you like to go on a date tonight?”

It was a Friday and last week he had taken you to the Zoo, it was becoming a weekly habit. Part of him trying to win you back, not that you would tell him but you think he already has. The point of this was to take it slow, you both know how this is going to end so there’s no rush.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know, I was thinking I’d leave it up to you. Your turn to choose.”

“Your house? We can have a sleepover and do movies, maybe you’ll let me do a face mask with you to put you back in my good graces.” You teased him lightly, he always gave pushback when you tried to do spa nights, but he would always give in without much of a fight.

“Shh, be quiet. I don’t need people thinking I’m a softie doing spa nights with my girl.” He teased back, as if he would care if people thought he was softie. He was the biggest softie around you and that’s one of the things you loved most.

“Your girl? Who, me?” You looked around and smiled when he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tucked you into his side.

“Of course, you. Who else could I want?”

Later that evening you found yourself at the Parker household but it wasn’t so quiet this time, May was humming in the kitchen and upon you walking in she screamed and pushed Peter to the side.

“Hugs, hugs! Peter move, let me at her!”

May wrapped her arms around you in a vice grip scared you’d run away if she let go, she missed having you around the house. Peter had a pep in his step when he was with you but since things ended he’s been more melancholy and quiet, it doesn’t help that May has been berating him too.

When he walked in after ended it with you she knew immediately something was wrong. She asked him outright, “What happened? What did you do, Peter? Please don’t tell me you did something stupid.” He did. He did do something stupid and admitted to it after sobbing into his aunt's arm for an hour.

She waited two weeks before she started in on him, like at the store, “I have a feeling I need to get strawberry ice cream, but I can’t remember who for. Was it that girl that came around before you broke her heart?” And Peter would heavily sigh, “Yes, May. That’s her.”

She just missed having you around, and seeing Peter so happy.

“What are you doing here? Oh my gosh!” May was beaming looking between you and her nephew.

“Well,” You looked to Peter and rested your hand on your stomach.

May let out a gasp, “Peter, I swear to god if you got her pregnant!” Even though Peter knows that's not the case he takes a step back for extra measure.

“Ew! God no. I wouldn’t let him touch me like that, May. He’s gross.”

“Hey!” A whine.

“We were paired for a project at school and started hanging out again.” You smiled at May, you missed her as much as she did you.

“And you’re hanging out here?” May pointed at the floor, she can’t believe after a school project things were fine.

You nod. “Yes. Peter is trying to win me back, it’s date night. He let me choose and I wanted to have a sleepover, I even talked him into a spa night!”

Peter’s eyes lit up, you were letting him put the pieces back into place.

“Date night? Since when is there a designated date night?” May was sputtering.

You look at Peter and think back, his face helping you form an answer. “Three weeks?”

Peter nods.

May’s jaw dropped, her nephew mentioned nothing of this. At all.

“Peter! What the fuck!”

He jumped, “What?”

“What is right! You’ve been taking her out without me knowing? Why?!” May was in shock, she knows Peter knows how much she’s missed you, she bullies him every chance she gets.

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged but did know why, and May knew that too. She just stared at him with that mom look and he looked at the ground and continued before looking at you.

“I know you missed her, May. I wasn’t sure how this would go, I still don’t. It’s not my decision at the end, I didn’t want to get you all excited just to tell you I failed.”

‘Peter.’ You mouthed the words, he shook his head subtly. You caught it, it meant ‘not now.’

May let out a breath and slapped her hands on her pants. “Okay, that’s fair. You should’ve given me a warning before you let her in though, I nearly had a heart attack.”

“And you my dear,” She spun to you and wiggled in joy once more, still amazed you were truly in the room, here for a rekindling.

“Are more than welcome to stay the night! Do you have dinner plans, or any plans at all? I’m about to leave for work, is there anything either of you need?”

“Thanks, May! Peter’s cooking for me tonight, he said he got a new recipe.”

Peter cut off May’s impressed look, “It’s just a restaurant copycat, May. I’ve just never made it for her before.”

“Is that why you got so many tomatoes at the store? Are you making your own tomato sauce!”

“Oh my god, Peter.” You whined out at him, he cut his gaze towards you and grinned. He was down bad.

“You’re making homemade sauce? That is so cute, c’mere.” You tugged at him for a side hug, not missing the way May’s eyes gleamed.

“Well, I just cleaned the kitchen so it’s up to the chef now.” She throws a wink at her nephew, “It is so nice having some sunshine back in the apartment, I’ll see you both in the morning. Good night!” May placed a kiss to each of your foreheads and made a final goodbye at the door, you heard the click where she locked it on the outside.

You were alone and excited, you didn’t plan on anything happening tonight and sure, you definitely missed Peter in that way, but seeing him so domestic you wanted to lay him down flat and make him a mess.

He had changed into sweatpants, baby yoda printed socks poked out, and his white tee. You think he did it on purpose, he didn’t act like he did but he has to know what he’s doing. It seemed just a bit too tight, like he hadn’t worn it in a while and it just came out the dryer, it was snug across his chest and constricted around his biceps that flexed at every subtle movement of him mixing a pot of red.

“I regret my choice for date night.”

“Oh?” He looked sad, “We can do something else, what did you have in mind?”

“Oh no, I am very much enjoying what I’m seeing. That’s the issue, Mr. Parker.”

“That doesn’t seem like much of an issue to me, dear.”

His back was turned to you again, he spoke a little louder to make up for his echo towards the stove. You were sitting on the kitchen counter next to the sink, feet swaying and slightly kicking the cabinet, if it was a few months ago Peter would scold you for kicking them. He would tell you May would beat you up and then he would have to beat May up for doing so, and then he would grab at your knees and stop them while he squeezed and you would laugh trying to peel his hands off.

Tonight he was letting you get away with it, he’s been letting you do that recently. Small things that would’ve pushed him in the past didn’t get to him, or he was allowing it to happen so he didn’t push you too far with scolding. You chewed your bottom lip and watched him, he had a white rag thrown over his shoulder. You peered down to your right and saw the cheese grater and plate, he even was grating fresh cheese, he was going all out for you tonight.

“I think it needs more oregano, or pepper. It’s missing something, what do you think?” He licked the corner of his mouth for any extra tomato sauce, his face scrunched in concentration. Peter held his hand under the wooden spoon lightly blowing on it before raising it to your mouth, you smacked your lips a few times getting a taste, “Add a little salt, then let me try again.”

He nodded and you watched him add more of the flaked salt, then returned with another cooled mouthful. “Mm, I think you were right. It’s really yummy though.” Peter smiled and patted your knee, “Thank you, baby.” Your heart gushed and you yearned for a kiss, the rules were weird. You weren’t together yet, choosing to really make sure you can trust him. But, you also weren’t not together, he was taking you on dates, and doting, and really, really trying.

You were dating, that was clear. And people who go on regular dates kiss, right? Not to mention you were dating for almost two years, you’ve kissed before. It wouldn’t be weird at all, and it hasn’t been. Each peck you’ve given had a hidden layer of lust, each time you met it was harder to pull away. Part of you was nervous for tonight, you were scared you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

Especially when sharing a bed.

Gathering courage you slid to your feet feather light, you stood behind him for a moment before leaning in, sticking your nose in the crease of his armpit. “Hi,” He turned his neck to glance at you for a moment before turning his head back, “Hi, baby.” You moved to lay your cheek on his shoulder blade, hands coming around his chest and pressing into him, “You’re warm,” your words were slightly muffled from a squished cheek.

“You light a fire in me, what can I say?”

“Gross, you’re cheesy.” You moved to pull away but he caught your hands and held his against yours to hold them there, he was asking for an extra cuddle. You gave in, bear hugging his back, you squeezed tight, “Can we go out for ice cream after dinner?”

“Anything you want.”

“Anything I want, huh?”

He hummed.

“Can I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Kiss?”

Peter turned in your hold, “Pretty girl, you never have to ask for a kiss. Now, c’mere.”

He leant to kiss you, his thumb rubbing at your cheek made you dizzy. It was luring you into a trap, you didn’t care. Peter broke first, “Good?” You blinked your eyes open slowly, “Another,” He gave you one more, you held on for a moment longer, he broke away again, he leaned away trying to find space, he needed to stir his sauce, it was almost at a simmer.

You followed his mouth, a peck, “Baby,” another peck, “I gotta stir,” another, “Baby,” he laughed and drew his head back, you kissed his chin. “One more for good measure,” He rolled his eyes, but did it regardless, both hands cupping your face he squashed your lips in a playful kiss, pulling back with an animated pucker sound.

“Now get back, menace.”

Peter was finally able to focus on the main part of the dish, he flattened the protein with a tenderizer and started to grate the cheese. You wondered if it would be the wrong time to bring it up again, the ‘why’ question.

“Is it a bad time to bring it up?”

He paused for a split second, his focus reminded on the sharp grater. You watched the parmesan fall like snow.

“You won’t be my girlfriend until I tell you.”

It wasn’t a question, it was rhetorical.

“No, I don’t think I will.” It was a sad smile.

“The thing I’m scared of is,” He rolled the wrapping on the cheese down a bit further then started to grate again, “ that you won’t want to be my girlfriend once I tell you.”

“Will I be mad?”

“I think it’s more disappointment.”

“Is it worse than breaking up with me?”

“I,” He paused and knocked the extra cheese off the grater and leveled the bowl. He started once more, “I don’t know.” He looked at you and sighed. “I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Is it that bad?” You can’t think of something that extreme, something only you and him would share. It was obviously extremely personal.

Peter stopped and moved to his left to stand between your thighs, one hand resting above your knee. He tapped his thumb and thought of his words, how he would tell the story looking at you.

“I uh, I got in a fight?”

He sounded unsure, you don’t think it was a lie but you question the choice of words.

“When?”

“A week before I ended it.”

“Why?” A whisper.

Peter bent his bottom lip with a nibble, he looked to the side and you saw moisture prick at the edges of his eyes. He shrugged, his voice cracked when he looked back at you.

“You.”

“Me?”

“I, uh. It was, well I don’t. I just, I can’t right now. I can’t, I’m sorry.”

You knew it was a bad time, and you get what he meant at the planetarium, it was a mood killer.

“We don’t have to talk about it anymore tonight, Petey. Let’s drop it and forget it for now, we can unpack this later. Right now I just want to eat your yummy dinner and cuddle on the couch with a movie, is that alright with you?”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Give me a kiss, chef.”

After dinner, which was delicious, you even ate scraps off Peter’s plate and then shoved yours into his chest and requested seconds that had him hopping to his own beat to the kitchen. Then dessert, which ended up with both of you choosing to swap ice cream for homemade cookies.

Then you forced him to lay his head back into your lap while you applied a goopy paste that covered his face gray.

“It’s cold” He whined

“Cold is good, it shrinks your pores.”

“My what?”

You rolled your eyes, “it makes you look younger.”

“I’m already baby faced, get it off!”

When his phone timer went off you both tread into his bathroom to remove it, the space was slightly too small for two, both of you constantly bumping hips.

“Get away from me, stinky.” Peter pulled into the corner while giving his chin circular motions after you scolded him for dragging his skin down.

“If you want to shower with me just say so.” You winked at him in the mirror, you patted a towel on your face to remove any leftover moisture then waited to hand it off to Peter once he rinsed his own off.

“That’s gross.” He still tore it from your hands and patted his own, softer after you screamed “Gentle!”

“What is, the face mask?”

“No, sharing a towel.”

You pulled a neutral face, “Wait until you find out about all the other things we’ve shared.”

“Is that a sexual innuendo? I’m calling HR.”

A yawn exchange was currently in place, you started it. Then Peter gave one, then you copied, and because you yawned he did, you opened your mouth to rinse and repeat when he pushed your face to the side with his hand.

“Stop it, go to bed.” His voice was teasing, “You stuffed me! I’m being lulled to sleep in the comfort of your arms.”

You had both started on opposite sides of the couch, then you shifted to the middle, then stretched your legs out on his lap and he lightly scratched at your shins. Then halfway through the first movie you swapped so his fingers were scratching at your scalp. And somewhere between a bathroom break and the start of the second movie you sauntered back over to the couch but on Peter’s half.

“Open sesame.” You made a parting motion at his crossed arms.

He opened and dropped his arms like dead weight and watched as you pulled them in whatever position you liked, you finally settled on laying with your butt against his hip, one arm was crossed under your head as a pillow and the other was thrown over your chest.

“Finished fluffing me?”

“This pillow talks too much.”

You both stayed like that for a movie and a half, Peter had to pee so bad his eyes were watering but he refused to break the cuddles. He never, ever wanted to leave your side again.

“Go to bed, it’s okay.” He watched you wiggle up with a stretch. You picked up the soft throw blanket to follow in with you, you blinked at Peter and waited for him to rise. When he didn’t move you poked his shin with a toe, “Are you coming or staying up?” His eyebrows stretched, “You want me to come? I was prepared to crash in May’s.”

“You think I chose a sleepover to sleep alone? Rude.”

“No! I just didn’t expect to share a bed. I know we’re in this inbetween stage, I didn’t want to rush anything.”

“Well, I want to share a bed. So, share a bed we may.”

Peter rose in an instant, clicking the TV off with the remote, darkness enveloped the room, you blinked to adjust Peter’s frame. He rested a hand on your lower back to guide you into his room.

“Yes ma’am.”

He sunk into bed and reset the pillows, his jaw dropped when you raised your shirt above your head and ripped off a sports bra.

“Oh my god, boobs.”

“What? These old things?”

“Boobs. I see boobs right now.”

You giggled and gave your chest a little shake, his head darted back and forth with the movement. It was like shaking a treat at a dog.

“Last time you saw them you wanted nothing to do with em!”

He shook his head, “That’s because you were drunk, someone had to make a good decision.”

“I wasn’t that drunk, I still remember that whole night and gag when I think about it.”

Peter kept trying to go between your face and chest, he was doing his best at looking at you, but you saw the subtle drop down and back up.

“Wanna touch them?”

He gasped and his face lit up.

“For real?”

“For real.”

Peter made grabby hands, and kissing sounds. You laughed at his childish demeanor and kneeled on his bed, chest in his face.

“This is so much better than Christmas.”

He chewed his bottom lip.

“I’m gonna touch them.”

“Go ahead.” You pushed your chest forward.

“Like right now.”

“I’m wondering why you haven’t.”

“I’m waiting for you to say, “just kidding, you’re a perv.””

“Not gonna happen.”

“Okay then, I’m grabbing them yiddies.”

And he did, he grabbed one in each hand and jiggled, then giggled when they danced in his face.

You slapped his hands away, “oh my god, I didn’t think you would actually do it, you perv!”

His face dropped with his hands, until he saw your smile. “Menace.” He grabbed them again, then couldn’t help himself.

Mesmerized, his words were filled with filth despite the innocence of his words.

“So pretty, baby.” So soft, so quiet.

Only for your ears.

“Says you, handsome.” Just as private as his, he shook his head, almost disappointed that you didn’t get it.

“Are you sure you wanna cover these back up?” He moved his hands to watch them bounce one more time before you slapped them off, pushing off the bed to slide your shirt back over.

Crawling back into bed next to him you moved to cuddle him, leg thrown over his hip, hand tracing his chest while your head rested on his quick heartbeat.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh oh.” He twirled his finger around your hair.

“It’s nothing bad! I swear.”

This is pillowtalk. Peter loves and misses pillowtalk.

“Alright, run it by me.”

“Sex. Thoughts, opinions, ideology?”

“Sex good.”

“So insightful, that will be quoted in years to come.”

“Why are you asking me about sex?”

“This isn’t asking me things, time, it’s me asking you things, time.”

He stayed silent, he wouldn’t respond to you without an answer. When he acted dominating it was always a rush.

“Uh! I guess I mean, ya know.”

He truly didn’t know, but if he knows you, and he does, he had to take a guess.

“You want to know if I want to have sex with you?”

“You don’t have to say it like that.” You muffled the words in his shirt.

Why were you so coy?

He laughed, “Baby, I don’t think there’s another way to say that.”

You waited, he didn’t answer.

“Well?”

“Hm.” He poked your side, “You first.”

You turned to his face with an open mouth, “No way! I asked you first.”

He rolled his eyes. “No you didn’t, I had to guess what you were trying to ask.”

“Same thing! You always know what I mean, that’s why you’re my boyfriend!”

A pause, no one moved or said anything.

“I mean, before you totally ruined everything and dumped me and now caused yourself to be in this period of space and time due to the choices you’ve made up to this point in life, which is why you are not my current boyfriend, but you were in a past timeline and a possible future timeline. Speaking of which, when you told May getting back together may fail what did you mean by that? You think I may not take you back, or this will end with us officially, officially ending it?”

Peter blinked slowly, that was so much at once.

“That was so much at once.”

You looked around the room, word vomit was always a bad habit of yours. And usually with Peter, he had a way of getting you to spill your guts.

“I appreciate the clarification on the boyfriend status, but you didn’t have to be so brutal, damn.” He took a breath, “Second, I am trying to win you back, not the other way around. You already have me, so when I say this may fail, I mean it. At the end of the day, you have final say and I really may have ruined this for real.”

“I panicked.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh.

“I know you did.”

“I know what I can say back to that.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“Yet.”

“Oh, word?” He held up his hand for a fist bump.

“Word.” You tapped knuckles.

“Now, what was that about wanting to rattle my bones?”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god, just say fuck.”

“I have never said fuck in that context, it’s dirty.”

“Peter! Sex is dirty, and that’s okay. Just say it, c’mon.”

“Not happening, it makes me feel weird. I feel like I got a pass from my parents to cuss one time, and it doesn’t feel right.”

“Peter if you don’t say you want to fuck me right now, I will give you a purple nurple.”

“I would love to, fu- Nope, not happening, it’s wrong.”

“Of course it’s wrong, don’t be nice!”

“I am nice! That's all I have, unlike you! Menace.”

“That’s toxic, now say it with your chest. “I wanna fuck you.” Just like that.”

“I wanna… you.” He turned his head and mumbled the middle part.

“You wanna do what?”

“Fu..” He mumbled the rest and coughed in his fist, cheeks pink.

“One more time, I know you’ve got it in you.”

He groaned and tugged at his curls, “Nope, moment is over. Not happening, not my fault you couldn’t hear me.”

“Ugh, fine.” You pulled away from him to get one last bathroom trip in, then jumped into bed and laughed when Peter held his arms out like he could steady the bed.

That’s something he would’ve scolded you for, he stayed silent.

On the brink of total slumber Peter whispered in your ear, he was currently holding you from behind, his arms wrapped around you and he was pressed against you.

“Can I be little spoon?”

You throw his arm off you and turn around, his face right in yours.

“Of course I can jetpack!”

Then you press a chaste kiss to his mouth, you pull back before he can register.

“Goodnight, Petey.”

—---------------------------------------------

Why was everyone looking at you?

It felt like a movie, walking into school everyone had turned their head and watched you.

It was a dream, it had to be. Maybe you forgot pants, nope, you have pants on. Maybe someone buzzed your hair off, nope, every hair was still there. Maybe it was someone behind you, nope, just you.

You were beginning to feel self conscious, the pressure was on for no reason.

Why was everyone looking at you?

Oh. That’s why.

Every single locker in the senior hall had a post it note.

Each square is a different color.

Each had the same words.

“Peter loves Y/N.”

You slowly walked the halls in awe, looping around to see that he had actually put one on each cage of blue metal.

Every locker had his declaration of his love, except for yours.

No, your’s was an entire collage, canary yellow post its covered the entire thing, only your combination lock was visabile. In bright red, boldly written across, “I LOVE YOU.” Over, and over, and over again.

MJ approached your locker and nodded her head impressed, she always told Peter actions speak louder than words, looks like he finally listened.

Unable to break your gaze away for more than two seconds you glance at her and look back at what you consider an art piece.

“Be honest,” You look at her once more, “Do you think he loves me?”

And she laughs, a rare full body shake laugh. You can’t help but laugh with MJ, it was contagious.

“If he does, he doesn't show it well.”

You sigh and look around the hallway once more.

“Yeah, it’s really hard to tell.”

———————————————

“There’s my little artist!” You kiss your fingers at Peter.

“Is that a short joke? You know I’m sensitive.”

“And you know you’re a short king.”

You set your backpack on the lunch table before sitting next to him, and stare in awe. It was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever experienced, you would be reliving this moment forever.

How could you not make him yours right now?

“So you noticed?”

You laugh, “I’m pretty sure everyone did. I think Mrs. Bender was jealous.”

“Okay, you need to stop with the Mrs. Bender isn’t getting laid.”

“Well, she shouldn’t act like she’s not getting dick.”

“But it’s okay when you do?”

“That is so mean, you have no idea, you are so toxic to me.”

“Am I wrong?”

“Yes! I get dick!”

“Oh yeah, from where?”

“I have hoes!”

“Name five.”

“Well, I have you.”

Peter makes a buzz noise, “It’s been almost five months, plus that was when we were dating. I can’t be a hoe if we’re dating.”

“You can absolutely be a hoe while dating.”

“Sure. Four more names, I’m waiting.”

“I mean, there was this one guy.” You look to the side, oh, you were being truthful.

Peter thinks it was that guy you talked about at the party with your friends.

“Nathan?”

“How did you know?” You look back at his face, nothing really happened and you felt the need to tell him that. Even though you were broken up you didn’t want him to think of you like that.

“Lucky guess.” He winked.

If he was bothered he was playing it off good.

“It wasn’t what you think.”

“What do you think, I think?”

“That I fucked him.”

Peter winced, he hated the word. So vulgar.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Would it bother you if I did?”

Why did you want him to be bothered by that?

“I don’t know, which is why I don’t think about it. We were broken up, I can’t hold that over your head. But it doesn’t feel nice knowing someone else got to see and feel the same parts I did.”

“Have you hooked up with someone else?” Sure, try and level the playing field.

“Nope. I am untainted, I was a good little boy.” He grinned at you proudly.

“Can I tell you about it? It isn’t super bad, but I will throw in a PG-13 warning, depictions of sex.”

Peter grumbled.

“If you gotta.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m a whore.” You nibbled on your lip.

“Pause. I would never, and if that’s why you want to tell me, don’t. If you want to tell me to share that information with me, because you want to, then please do.”

“He sucked. I swear.”

Peter nods, but it still feels like you’re trying to make him feel better.

“I was a little too drunk and he was all over me, and I really missed you and he was there. He didn’t even kiss me, he asked me to suck him off and I refused, then he said he would go down on me so I would suck his dick, then I don’t know what he was doing down there but I swear he was just pretending, Peter. I felt nothing.”

“Then what?” He waited for you to continue after he took a bite from his turkey and wheat.

“I got up and left. I was so pissed at my friends for letting me go into that room with him.”

“I should get you an ‘I survived’ medal.”

You laughed and rested your forehead on his shoulder, nodding before looking at him.

“Question?”

“Whatcha what?”

You blinked and looked at his mouth. He deserved a kiss, he made you the school’s star for the day, every one knew how much Peter Parker loved you.

“Kissy?”

He shook his head lightly.

“What did I say about asking?”

You shrug, innocence taking front place. You always got so shy when you confessed something to him.

“I like it, it feels special.”

“Okay then, ask me anytime you want a kiss.”

“I want a kiss.”

“Well, that’s more of a statement than a question, but I appreciate the enthusiasm, so come closer.”

And you did, where he met you with a kiss. This one felt normal, it felt like home. It felt like every kiss you had before the break up, it was beginning to feel like it never happened and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

It sure did feel like a good thing though.

“Hi cuties! Are we dating yet or still feeling it out?” Betty Brant broke up the kiss, Ned trailing in behind her with two lunch trays.

“That line was so long, I am never doing Friday fish tacos again.” Ned sat down and wiped fake sweat from his forehead, his girlfriend sank next to him and pouted, “But I love Friday fish tacos.”

Ned nods sternly. “I will be doing Friday fish tacos again.”

Betty smiles and straightens her posture.

“Dating?”

Ned nods to you two turned into each other.

“You look like a couple.”

You wrap your hand around Peter’s arm.

“Yeah, a couple of besties!”

“Not the friendzone.” Peter’s voice is panicked.

“Not dating?” Betty frowns, she is more invested in this than you thought.

You smile at her for caring. “Not yet. I’m waiting for Peter to ask.” You bump your shoulder with his.

Peter raises his head from his carrots, he crunches on one.

“I don’t think I will.” You think he’s joking, but you quickly realize he’s not.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, “I think it would make more sense for you to ask me. I’m the one trying to win you back.”

“Then ask?” You’re confused.

“I feel like I already have, I’m just waiting on the yes.”

Betty looks between you two frantically, Ned is busy assembling tacos. He’s used to these conversations between you two, he’s seen more than he can count.

“But you haven’t asked since we started this.”

“Okay, if I asked now would you say yes?”

You chewed your lip.

“I don’t know.”

Peter raised his hand.

“That is exactly why you should ask me.”

“But that’s scary!”

“You can do it, I believe in you.”

“How about I tell you when I want you to ask me.”

It’s almost the same thing.

“No, I want you to ask me. I asked the first time.”

“I don’t know how to ask you!”

“Find a way, make it your way. There is no wrong or right way, just make sure you’re clear.”

“Do you mean don’t accidentally say it like last weekend?”

“There was a hint, yes.”

You looked at Betty and winked.

“What if I get down on one knee and ask?”

“Okay. There is one wrong way.”

“Super public too, maybe I’ll slide a twenty to the jumbotron camera guy at the Mets.”

“Nightmare fuel.” Peter shuddered.

Both you and Betty cracked up.

—————————————-

May was shocked to see your face, yet again Peter has yet to fail to announce your presence.

“Hi! What a surprise to see you again!”

You melted into a hug, you spoke into her neck.

“It’s a surprise for Peter too, I’m hoping for a surprise sleepover, I missed him a little too much tonight.” You whispered the last part, a little too much confession.

“Always. Always, always welcome.” She placed a kiss on your temple and pulled you in.

“Peter! Your girlfriends here!”

“Yeah, Peter! Your girlfriends here!” You mimicked May’s words and shared a giggle.

Peter emerged from his room, tugging up the zipper on his hoodie. His face went from shock to excitement, bouncing over to you.

“Hi, handsome!” You held your hands out for a hug, his arms wrapping around your middle and squeezing tight, he rocked you back and forth. You weren’t the only one missing him more than usual.

He pulled back and tilted his head, before he could ask a question you beat him to the punch. May watched in silence, happy to see the moment take place. The moment you fell back in love, truly and fully.

“Kiss?” You puckered and waited.

“Course.” He leant in, you settled for the quick pecks.

Peter looked over your outfit and put the pieces together.

“Sleepover?”

You nod with a grin, “Sleepover!”

Your eyes widened, you whipped your head at May.

“Please, please tell me you got more popcorn.”

“Ultimate butter. And, strawberry ice cream.” She smiled at your immediate grin.

“I’m home,” you wipe a fake tear from under your eye.

You turned your head back to Peter with a puppy dog look, batting your eyelashes and clasped your hands and twisted.

“Petey,” You drew out the name.

“Baby,” He tilted his tone.

“Can you please make me some popcorn, pretty please.”

“Be honest, did you come here for the popcorn?” It was supposed to be a joke.

You scoff, “Don’t be ridiculous, I only came for you. I missed you, best friend.”

“That’s cute.” Peter grinned at you and looked towards May who was currently melting.

“You’re cute,” You turned your head to May, “Close your eyes, May. Peter’s gonna lay one on me.”

You made grabby hands for his neck to bring him closer, “It better be a juicy one, May isn’t looking.” And she wasn't, she chose to walk away for a moment, leaving you both for a joyful reunion, even if it’s only been a few hours.

You asked, Peter delivered. His kiss left your head spinning, you always wondered if he felt the same. He sometimes would leave you in such a head high you felt like you were in a daze.

“Do you feel like that after a kiss?” You were so loopy you forgot to share what you were thinking.

“Like there’s nothing else like that feeling, it feels so warm and comforting. Like, it really feels like total love, and I swear you make me feel high sometimes, it’s like time stops.”

“I know what you mean, it’s like no one else but us matters.”

“You are the only thing that exists for me in that moment, and there is nowhere else I’d ever want to be.”

Peter groaned, “Come on now, how am I supposed to follow that one up?”

You grinned, “You can start with making me some popcorn.”

—————————————

It was only a matter of time.

Peter was already yours, all you had to do was ask. The only thing holding you back was the why.

It had to happen soon, you would slip and you swore to yourself you wouldn’t be his girlfriend again until he tells you why you have to ask him to be yours once more.

Winter break was taking place, and you were currently on Peter Parker's lap grinding down on fleece pajama pants while he was gripping at a breast kissing down your neck while you groaned and tug at his hair.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with sharing personal wants with a person you desire.

“Is that what you say to make yourself feel better about sucking my dick?”

“Oh, so you can say that but not ‘I want to fuck you?’”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god, Peter.”

Sex started a week or two after that last sleepover, it was getting cold and you begged for more warmth even when tucked into his side, and so you backed up into him, butt against his groin, that was normal.

Except his hand was squashed down in the middle, so you dug one hand behind you trying to lift it out the way as you scooch, back, and back, and back, and oh, there it was.

It was pressing harder into your back, you wondered if you should pull away, wake Peter up or see how far it would go if you fell into it casually.

You rub, you grind, you feel Peter’s hand grab tightly at your hip to hold it steady.

“Baby?” It was warning, his voice was dull and rough, you were the first thing out his mouth.

“Yes?” It was a whisper, you knew what you were doing. He could hear that too.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” His grip faltered under a hard pressed grind, he groaned and pressed your hip away.

“Yes.” You grabbed at the hand on your waist and pulled it up your shirt, his cool hand sent chills up your chest.

“You want me to take care of you?” The switch, from innocence to dominant, playful to serious. This was your Peter.

“Please,” It was a whimper.

“Just lay right there, I know what you want.”

He started to press kisses down your neck disappearing below the sheets, kisses never stopped.

And he did know what you wanted, he always did.

Always, always, always.

At that moment you only had one question.

‘What’s the point of asking? He’s already mine anyways.’

Now, it was bleeding into day three of living at the Parkers, it had been like this accidently since winter break started. May had gone away for a work trip and Peter’s place became a crash pad, it was just one night, and then one more and it’s probably going to be one more tonight too.

“Peter…” You sighed off the words, his kisses coming to a stop.

He grinned up at you, and as lovely as this was you didn’t want to miss the parade down a couple blocks.

“I want you to do something for me.”

His eyes widened, his voice in a soft hush.

“Anything.”

“Say, say you wanna fuck me,”

Peter groaned and tossed you off his lap.

“You could’ve just said you didn’t want to be late to the parade, but no.”

“God you are so in tune with me, it’s such a turn on.”

“Yeah, yeah. Butter me up now so I’ll give in and spend twelve bucks on a churro for you.” He waved you off and stood swapping pajamas for denim.

“But they’re filled with chocolate, Peter!”

“You’re lucky I love you.” He kissed your forehead and moved past you to look for a warmer jacket, his words lit a fire in you.

It’s obvious he loves you and while you haven’t said the words back you know he knows you do too. He’s been more giving with the words of affection, each time felt like a secret. Like, of course he does but, he doesn’t have to share that with you.

“Again,” He turns and tilts his head.

“Kiss?” He approaches to peck at your forehead, you go to step back but let him place one more.

“No.”

“No?”

“Again.” You repeat the words.

“Kiss?” You step back this time, “No, again.”

His eyes brighten, “Oh, I love you.”

You bite your bottom lip, “One more time?”

“I love you!” He cheers the words and pulls a beanie on.

“Peter,” You pause, you weren’t sure what he thought it would mean if you said it back.

“I know, I know you do.”

—--------------------------------

The parade was packed, there were rows of people pressed into the barricade.

Mostly families, moms and dads and grandmas had babies and toddlers rested on shoulders or a hip so they could get a good glance at Santa when he rode by. Rows of streets were blocked off, each street off the main parade route was filled with food trucks and popup booths of home-made crafts.

Peter and you strode hand in hand down each street, on one he bought you hot chocolate, which you shared. The next you got your churro, which you shared. One of the streets you passed a small canopy with homemade christmas tree ornaments, there was one in decorated ceramic. A delicate Lily of the Valley decorated the front and the year was painted in black and circled.

It felt like the breath was knocked from you, you remembered the meaning when Peter gave you one, a return to happiness. There was no clearer message from the universe.

“Babe?” You called out for your other half, who had slipped away looking for anything May would find special.

“Yeah?” He was calling from the otherside, his head was stuck in a bin shuffling through miniature stuffed bears.

“C’mere. I found something.”

You felt his hand press against your lower back, his chin sunk to your shoulder.

“Look.” You raised the string and watched as it slowly twisted in the wind, his eyes staring until they lit with recognition.

“Holy shit!” Peter reached his hand out to grab it, he had to feel it. It was real.

“We have to get it, right?” Both of you spoke at the same time.

You flushed pink, Peter grinned and poked your side.

“Hey, man! How much is this one?”

You watched and played with Peter’s gloves while he interacted with the man. He approached with a proud smile and a small black bag, he waved the receipt in his hand and stuck his hand out to yours.

“Can I ask a question?”

“You know, one of these days I’m going to ask that back.”

“And I’ll answer just like you do.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

“Oh, you.” He grumbled and pulled you in regardless, his nose was cold on your cheek, when you pulled away you rubbed your face against it to help warm it up some.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” He was walking you forward, looking for the best view that didn’t take away from any kid's sight. You were enthralled with his hand in yours, scooting you by other strangers.

“I know how I’m going to ask.”

He turned his head back at you in question, pulling you to the side after checking it was a good spot.

“Ask what, baby?”

“How I’m going to ask you to be my boyfriend.”

“If it includes you getting on one knee I’m gonna say no.”

“What if I get on both?”

Peter pointed to the church both of your backs were resting against, your grin dropped shyfully.

“I didn’t mean it,” You mumbled to the building.

“Yes she did.” Peter whispered back, you slapped him on the arm.

“Okay then, how?”

“I can’t tell you that!” You sputtered at him, it was like telling him his birthday present.

“What? Then why would you tell me that?”

“Because I wanted to let you know I knew how I was going to do it.”

“Oh I see, you were too excited to keep it a true surprise but you also want it to be surprising enough you won’t give me any true details.”

“Remember what I said about what a big turn on that is?”

Peter looked back at the church and rolled his eyes.

“Told you she wasn’t kidding.”

—------------------------------------

“Okay, let’s get it out of the way so this can really get started.”

Peter looked around confused, your voice came from nowhere. Where were you?

“Over here, nerd.”

You poked your head out from behind a street sign, and watched as Peter threw his head left and right until he spotted you, the whites on his mask widening then dropping, you knew he was full of smiles.

“Hi, baby!” Peter looked behind him once more before dropping to the ground below him, you ran into an alleyway behind him, and checked to see him slowly creep in behind you.

“Kiss?” When he finally approached, he turned his head to check behind him and shook his head solemnly.

“I don’t think so, baby.”

You frown. Peter never refused a kiss request, in the suit or out. And, if you were far from the street, a quick kiss wouldn’t be the end of the world.

“Why not? My lips are so cold, I forgot my boyfriend’s jacket.” You winked then corrected yourself, “I mean, my friend that is a boy.”

“I, uh,” He looked around once more then quickly stepped up to you, he pulled his mask just barely above his nose then leaned in. You were unable to even press back into the kiss before he stepped away and returned his mask to a normal position, then he looked above him quickly.

“Is everything okay?” You follow his eyesight and look around with him.

“Yeah! Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, are you sure you’re okay?”

You watched as he kept looking around, he was almost acting like he was about to get caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Are you cheating on me?” He missed the tilt in your voice, just teasing.

Peter whipped his head back at you, he started to pull at his mask but stopped himself and sunk it tightly back on his face.

“What? No, not at all.”

“You look like you’re about to get caught with me,” You poke at his chest and he steps back some, he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt in your eyes.

This was the first time you’ve approached him as Spider-Man since the break up, Peter has tried everything possible to keep you away as the masked hero, and you hadn't noticed. Until now, because now you begin to wonder if this was why.

Peter was acting awkward, and he never did around you. Around you, Peter was methodical, confident, suave and in love. Right now it seemed like he wanted you gone.

“I mean, maybe. You never know who’s watching, I don’t need the media on the case of Spider-Man’s secret girlfriend.”

You frown once more, you can’t press on it now. He would try and back himself into a corner where nothing was wrong, then that would cause him anxiety because he’s lying and you know how much he hates backtracking after a lie.

“Do you want me to leave? We can talk later.” You question him and go to place your hands around his biceps but pull back halfway through, you caught the hint, he didn’t want you all over him right now.

Peter caught your hands and pulled him then to rest on his chest.

“You can touch me, baby.” He chuckled slightly, but you caught the nerves in his voice.

“Give me a kiss and I’ll leave?” You blinked at your boy, he shook his head lightly.

“You said you wanted to talk about something, what’s up?”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t seem like you want me here right now.” Really, it was okay.

You know Peter is frowning behind his mask.

“Of course I want you here, tell me what’s going on?”

You moved your hands to his shoulders and gave a squeeze, then moved your head to look around. You didn’t get why he was on edge, but you respected it.

Upon realizing no one was in the area you stepped in for a hug, immediately filled with warmth the shocking breeze seemed to dull outside. Winter break was ending soon and coming back to school with ‘I got a boyfriend for Christmas, what about you?’ seemed like the biggest flex imaginable.

Instantly, Peter had his hands wrapped around your back. You felt the slight groove of his gloves running up and down your back, he leant his head into yours and you know if his mask was off he would be pressing kisses to the top of your head.

After squeezing tightly one last time you pulled away and smiled brightly at him.

“How much longer will you be out here?”

“Probably a few more hours, I’ll be home around dinner.” He starts to slightly scratch down your arms.

“Wanna go out?”

You hum, “We can, I wanna talk to you first, though.”

“Everything good?” He was asking if he was in trouble.

“Yeah! Kiss?”

“Tell me what’s up first.” He was bartering, he was on edge now.

“Hm, nope. I’ll see you later, babe. Kiss?”

“Are you mad?” He meant because you caught onto him not wanting you here.

“Not at all, if it’s okay with you I was gonna head to yours and get a nap in before I see you later.”

“Course it is. Need a key?” You gave yours back after the break up.

“May’s not home still?”

He shook his head, “Weather pushed back the flight, because of the ice she’s not sure when she’ll be back.”

“Boo, key please.” You held out your hand and opened and closed it quickly, begging for the key.

“Hold on, baby.” Peter stepped away and jumped halfway up the wall peeling off his backpack from behind a ledge, then turned to make sure you were looking. He started to lightly swing it your way letting you know he was about to toss it down, you readed your hands and yelled “Hut!” before he dropped it at you.

You caught it with a grunt, then unzipped the small outer pocket and stuck your hand in searching for the key, startled you kept your hand in the same position as it was before Peter, quite literally ripped it from your hands.

“Sorry! I have something in here you can’t see yet.”

He pushed the key in your hand and closed your fist around it.

“Here, sorry again, baby.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“You’re cuter, otherwise I wouldn’t put up with that attitude.” You caught a wink through the mask.

“Toxic. Give me a kiss, and make it a real one.”

“As opposed to a fake one?”

“You didn’t give me a good kiss earlier and you know it.”

“Every kiss with you is a good kiss.”

You whine at his flirting.

“Please, Petey.” You pout, you know you’ve got him cornered.

“Alright, c’mere.” He calls you closer with his hands and turns with his back to the street.

“You wanna lift it or me?”

You stare in awe, you missed pulling the mask off.

“Me!” You tug it up past his lips, then roll it over his nose. But, at this point you might as well just take the whole thing off, right? Worth a try at least, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a kiss. His own hands wrap around your waist and pull you in tighter, you pull back slightly.

“It’s rubbing my nose, hold on.” You tug it higher, and place one more kiss.

Then you pull back again and slowly push it up, he tightens his grip but says nothing.

This was one of those moments where he would scold you but was letting you get away with it, at this point you know it’s because he doesn’t want to mess anything up. You can’t help but wonder how long you can drag this out.

In one movement you tug the entire thing off, “Hi, handsome.”

“Hi,” He whispers.

His curls framed his forehead nicely, you’ve been begging every week for him not to cut it. Your requests would soon be ignored, you knew Peter could only handle it so long before he chopped it. If you took a guess he would get it cut before school restarted, you only had one more week of his long hair.

“I love your curls so much, please never cut them.”

“I will absolutely cut them.”

“One more week?”

“You’re pushing it.”

“For me?”

“In that case, one more week.”

“Thank you, babe.”

You press a delicate kiss to his cheek and shiver slightly.

“Can I have a kiss before I go?”

He gives in, and it’s a nice kiss. You both lean in for a while before a sharp chill runs up your spine, you then decide it’s time to curl under his sheets and wait for him to come warm you up entirely.

“I’m leaving, it’s cold.”

You press his mask into his chest and lean in for one more kiss.

“See you later.”

“Wait! Can you take my bag?” He holds it out with a pleading smile, you tug it into your chest and contemplate tugging out his jacket and wrapping it around you. You could take the subway but despite the nips of cold you felt like walking, maybe so Peter knows you’ve gotten home safe.

“Can I open it for your coat?”

He said there was something in it you weren’t supposed to see yet, you would respect that.

“Yeah, just please don’t go poking around the outside zipper.”

“Got it, see you later!”

You turned to leave, he called after you.

“Bye, baby! Love you.”

You didn’t think, it was automatic.

“Love you too!”

You didn’t process what you said, it felt like second nature.

Peter felt like he couldn’t breathe, he felt warm from inside out. From this point on nothing would get him down, the girl he loved with all his heart, the same girl that was hurt by him still loves him. He assumes he’s done it right, he finally thinks he may have won you back.

You told Peter you wanted to talk, then said you loved him.

Peter thinks he’s going to be a boyfriend before midnight hits.

—------------------------

Time was ticking, you and Peter had been getting back into normal behavior, it felt as real as it did before the break up. And honestly, you kind of see it as a blessing. You don’t think you would’ve realized how much you mean to yourself if that’s all you didn’t have after he ended it.

It hurt, alot. No one talks about how physical break ups can feel, you feel them in your gut. Stomach twisting at every end, like a small man is twisting knots in your intestines. Then in your chest, the worst kind of heartburn alive eats at you, red searing hot pain that bleeds down through your body. It feels like every heart string is being pulled and snapped with each release. It affects your senses too, nothing sounds or tastes good anymore, at least not when Peter didn’t make or suggest it. Your eyes felt like there was nothing to focus on, your ears felt clogged, no one's words meant anything unless they were coming from Peter. You felt numb to the touch, so cold all the time, no one to warm you.

Heartbreak is something you would truly never wish on your worst enemy.

But now, everything tastes just a little bit better. And your heart still hurts some, but it’s because it beats a bit faster when Peter’s around. And your stomach wasn’t filled with knots but flutters, not nerves but excitement. Your ears came attuned to listen for Peter’s hums or muffled songs under his breath, you listen for his late night whispers about what the writer’s should’ve done for that episode, or you listen to him lightly snore in the quiet hum of his room in the middle of the night because he’s there, and you’re there. And you’re not so cold anymore, chills still happen but it’s no longer a to the bone chill. It’s a, this is chilly, but I have someone to warm me backup at home.

Peter felt like a constant hug.

You’re pretty sure that’s love.

And if you loved him he should be your boyfriend, but to be your boyfriend again he needs to explain why it ended. You were slowly breaking down that wall, you’ve asked yourself for weeks now if it was that important, but you know it is. Because, why else have you held out so long?

You don’t think in your heart everything could be forgiven without the why.

That’s why you were here tonight.

Peter came in around eight, for a moment you think he forgot you were here. He entered through the window, because you had his key. Then immediately ripped his mask off, slammed the button on his chest and kicked the suit away before groaning and stretched to the ceiling.

“Hello, Clarise.”

He jumped then smiled, “Hi, baby!”

Peter looked over at you swaddled in his bed, now sitting his dark blue comforter swarming your body. Cheeks tinted due to the warmth but you refused to move, choosing to instead take sips of water from the bottle on his nightstand.

“Good nap?”

You hum and copy his stretch, “So good, did I get you those boxers?” You think they were a just thinking of you gift, they had little calculators on them.

He looks down, “I think so, what did you do today, little miss?”

You yawn, still blinking the sleep away. “I used your laptop for Netflix.”

“Please don’t tell me you used my account.”

“Of course I did, what’s yours is mine.”

“You always mess up my recommendations, I just got it off of reality tv.”

“And now it’s back.”

Peter just blinked blankly at you.

“I think it’s cute that you still had the passcode set to my birthday.”

“Of course I did, they’re the only numbers burned into my brain.”

“If you changed it I think I would’ve lost it, I mean full blown cry.”

“Nope, if I got a new girlfriend I would have to come up with some cover story for that.”

“You would let other girls use your Netflix?” You pout and wobble your lip.

“I let you, don’t I?” Peter walks around the room and grabs his towel hanging on the other side of his closet door.

“Well, yeah. But I’m special.”

“If it makes you feel better, you would always be the one that got away. No girl could live up to that.” He shrugs and throws his towel over his shoulder.

“And you would have to die alone?”

“I would have to die alone.”

“No other option?”

“None.”

You turn your head and nod, he’s great at winning the boyfriend tests.

“Shower?” You nod at the towel, he starts to make his way to the bedroom door.

“We can get food after, you decide.”

“Cook, take out, or dine in?”

“You choose.” He grins at you and turns to head to the bathroom.

“My choice?” You call after.

“Yours.”

You wait until you hear the shower start, then throw off the blankets and race down the hallway.