The Bets Are On

I come simply to ask for some thigh riding with marvus, gender neutral reader if possible

You got it anon!

I just wanna post a new fic. No i don’t wanna have to write it lol

reblog to beat the joker to death

More snacks! Plus some drinks

On break at work and I saw the most delicious image on my goddamn pinterest of a man in garter stockings and black panties and listen- listen- I will in fact be picturing my favorite men in that exact outfit. Like the Thoughts this gives me. Why am I at work? Why am I at work and unable to write about men in stockings and panties like. Genuinely what. This is bi/pan/homophobia. I want to write my little porn blurbs about some subs getting absolutely demolished. Where are my fics of pretty and masculine men crying and begging to get off while someone lovingly takes them apart piece by piece? I'm gonna babygirlify some grown ass men I swear to god.

Comfort

Somewhere you could hear distant music, the notes soft and faint to the point you could delude yourself into thinking it was only in your head. The music coupled with the open window and the gentle breeze that would sway through your curtains created a sort of softness to the atmosphere. Or maybe it was the lethargy caused by the summer heat. You could never be too sure on that one. Laying on your bed you continued to lazily card your fingers through soft white curls. He’d fallen asleep some time ago and you were pleased to know he was getting any decent sleep at all. His weight was a comfort, head pillowed slightly below your chest and one arm wrapped underneath you around your waist. Had someone told you he was cuddly you might have laughed, but in a way it made a strange sort of sense. He was a twin after all, once upon a time he’d been so close to another as to share the same womb. You wondered if that was a thing with twins, if they’d spend their whole lives craving that sort of closeness with somebody. 

It had to be lonely if so. 

Your eyes drifted to your ceiling, the stars you’d placed there sometime in your youth when things were simple and you had yearned for the vastness of space to swallow you whole. Even pain, even suffering, had seemed simple then. But that had been long ago and you would never know how to explain to that younger self of yours what had led to your current situation. You couldn’t really explain it to anyone at all. Nails lightly scratching along his scalp you tried to recall when this closeness the two of you had had started but that moment was a blur amongst soft niceness you’d shown him since you had known him. It was in your nature to be kind and you had long stopped trying to deny yourself the urge to tend to others. Just as it had been in your nature to be cruel so that you could not be hurt. 

In his sleep Pietro shifted, tightening his hold. A freed hand shimmied under your body, curling loosely around a shoulder blade, before he settled. Wrapping an arm over the lean expanse of his back you let him curl close and intimate. Despite the intimacy there was no desire there. No lust. Just a warmth from the unspoken trust between you. In all the time you had known him he had been a friend and an enemy and a companion. A myriad of complicated truths and history between the two of you. 

An old friend.

Watching him now in his vulnerable sleep your eyes found the scars that peeked from underneath his shirt. The faded burns of hateful fire, the jagged scratches of war, and the stinging straight slashes of betrayal. When you had first tried to know him he’d been wild-eyed with stolen youth. Expecting a knife in the back that you never gave. He was cruel then, cruel in his suffering for fear of much the same. You had your moments of cruelty too back then. Time and experience had curbed that cruelty and dulled it with compassion and melancholy. He carried with him a great never ending sadness behind quick wit and sharp barbs. Once, when he’d been vulnerable and you had simply been there he spoke of a community afraid to love him in fear he’d be snatched from them. Of a time and place where his differences didn’t just affect him but his entire family. How he strived to embrace his own culture with the hope it would be brave enough to embrace him back. The fear his mother had, his aunt you would learn but she had always been his mother in his eyes, that he would be taken from her simply because he looked different than what the world thought the Roma should look like. That one day someone would snatch her own child from her and claim he’d been stolen from them instead. You would have liked to claim that you’d had an intelligent reply to that confession but you’d been younger then and newer to the world- suffered in different ways to the man that would become your friend- all you had been able to do was listen and offer him a hand to hold. Miraculously that had seemed to be enough for a while. You had educated yourself after that, made a better effort to understand so that he wouldn’t have to explain at every turn. 

Perhaps that had been a turning point between the two of you, one of many. A genuine attempt at understanding him when he felt isolated. Or perhaps that had been a mere moment and the turning point had been something else. Either way you had gotten to know him and he in turn had gotten to know you. Despite the terrible things you were both capable of, despite the way you had both hurt each other at times, despite every hurtle and thorn and fight between the two of you somehow you had managed to hold onto each other. You would never be sure if the way you wordlessly let him in and out of your life was healthy, if the hurt between the two of you ran deeper than either of you were comfortable admitting, but you had your moments. Moments as soft as this where the two of you were simply people. Simply seeking comfort. You could live with that. With knowing that Pietro found comfort when he needed it not just from his sister but from a friend. 

Even at your most terrible you had never denied him that. Even at his. Maybe that made you foolish, but you couldn’t deny that it could be sweet. Rubbing a hand over his back you closed your eyes, letting the afternoon heat lull you. In your bones you knew something would call him away, that some disaster or world altering tragedy would ask for him, demand his help in blood. But for the moment it was you and him in the safety of your childhood bed, a moment suspended in time and softness. For now there was the surety of comfort, the steady weight on top of you and the warmth of skin. A togetherness you rarely shared with anyone else. 

For now that was enough.

Compliment

It wasn't often that you got to stare at your classmate, he was usually nearly constantly moving around. But for the past ten minutes he'd been glaring down at his essay in concentration. His fingers carded through white hair as he tapped his pencil at a near rapid rate. Pale eyelashes nearly hiding the dark brown of his eyes as they flitted over the words he'd already written. Looking at him this closely you could see a faint indent on his nose as if he'd been wearing goggles. Eyes trailing over his face you watched as his eyes caught yours. Brows furrowing as a slight frown tugged at his lips- you couldn't look away. The light from the windows caught his eyes turning them a coffee brown instead of the nearly black color they were. Caught up in staring at them you were surprised to see the slight sliver of blue ringed around the brown. Gone in an instant as his eyes darted to the side and then back to yours.

"What are you staring at?" He hissed defensively, shoulders drawn up almost to his ears. You blinked at him as his words caught up to you. Months of watching him in your classes had taught you the best thing to do was to catch him off guard with honesty before he actually got angry and so you blurted the first thought that had crossed your mind.

"You have nice eyes."

He blinked clearly not expecting it. Perfect. His shoulders dropped from their defensive posture as he stared at you, face smoothed out in surprise. Again his eyes searched yours for answers that you didn't technically have. They dropped back down towards his paper as his pencil resumed its rapid tapping- just slightly harder than before. If you hadn't been watching him so closely you might have missed the slight flush that creeped across his face and towards his ears. Deciding to cut your watching short you looked back down to the book you were citing for your own essay. The compliment was small, something you'd tell any of your friends. You felt little shame or embarrassment in saying it. It was true, Peter had lovely eyes. Out of the corner of your eye you caught him biting his lip to hide a smile. You didn't bother to hide yours as you highlighted a quote. As the class crawled by slowly you watched the way his fingers kept coming up to rest just beneath his eyes and the way his lips would twitch with that almost smile. As if the compliment had been more than just simple observation on your part.

When class finally did end he was the first one out the door as usual. Always in a rush to get to the next thing. It hardly mattered to you, you only knew Peter as a hyperactive classmate. The two of you weren't friends and the most you'd ever talked to each other was during group projects. As you made your way out of the class to head to your last one of the day your mind was already wandering to the next assignment you'd be doing and the other classmates you'd be dealing with.

You almost missed the person who fell into step with you. But it was hard to miss his usual strange sense of style and that white hair. He seemed jittery as his attention darted from one thing to the next. But it was unmistakable that he was walking with you and not in the general direction you were going. He walked nearly in your own personal bubble seeming to step in and out of it as if unsure of what he was doing. It was cute. As you arrived to your next class your eyes caught a bit of string clinging to his jacket as he went to turn and walk back to his own class.

"Peter?" He froze mid step as you stepped closer to him. Plucking the string from the lapel of his leather jacket you took a moment to even them both out. "You had some string stuck to it." You explained simply. He continued to stare at you mutely- a rare thing from him. Usually he had a witty reply for everything. You watched in fascination as his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. By now people usually called you a creep and tried to put distance between themselves and you. Instead Peter flushed in that interesting hardly noticeable way of his and cleared his throat.

"Cool." And as if he were never there in the first place he was gone. Frowning you glanced around the hallway, only seeing other students you hardly knew. Shrugging it off you went to sit down in your science class, hoping it'd pass quickly so you could go home. If it was another thing you'd learned in the months of sharing classes with Peter it was that you'd never understand him.

Mors Speaks

Decided to post some quick drabbles I had between classes!

Nightmares Marvus x Reader

Heart trying to escape out of your throat you sat up in your bed breathing hard. For a moment you could still hear the sounds of the alarms on your little rocket ship blaring in alert as you crashed into Alternia’s surface. But as you began to wake more you realized you were safe- Alternia long behind you. Trembling from adrenaline you shakily threw off your blankets and slipped out of bed. Your legs felt weak, fawn-like as you wandered out of Marvus’ guest room. For the life of you, you couldn’t figure out what had triggered the nightmare. It had been years since that night, you weren’t even on Alternia anymore. Trying to calm yourself you stumbled into the kitchen and took a seat at the island. It was nothing. Nothing at all. You had experienced much worse than the shuttle crash since then and came out on the other side. Out of all the nightmares you had had since then it baffled and frustrated you that the crash was the most frequent of all. Behind you was the shuffle of feet and you nearly jumped out of your skin as you turned to find Marvus shuffling into the kitchen.

“Hey lil buddy was up?” He asked tiredly, voice gravelly from sleep. Guilt over waking him nearly choked you. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” You spoke softly.

“Nah, don’ worry bout it. What’s wrong? Y’look like you seen some shit.” 

“It was just an old nightmare. Nothing I can’t handle.”

That just made Marvus frown as he came to sit beside you, dragging his stool close enough your knees brushed. 

“Wanna talk bout it?”

“Not… Not really.”

Marvus sighed, reaching out to lay his hand on your leg in a soothing gesture. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin, his cold hands remarkably grounding as you fought down the shivers of phantom panic. 

“I know I ain’t yo diamond or nothin’ but you do be knowin’ I still care bout you right?”

“Of course.” 

“But you still don’ wanna talk bout it.” 

“Its an old nightmare Marvus, comes back up every once in awhile. But its over now. That’s what matters.” 

“Still hurtin’ you somethin’ fierce though.” 

“Marvus.” You sighed. He glanced away with a clear scowl before shaking his head. 

“I don’ like seein’ you this worked up. ‘Specially when there ain’t a damn thing to do bout it.”

“I know. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Don’t.” He spoke voice surprisingly firm, you glanced up at him to find him staring at you intently, almost angrily, “Don’t apologize. I don like the thought of you jus’ hidin’ away til your thinkpan’s on straight. Ain’t right.” 

“People have nightmares all the time.”

“Yeah? Well you ain’t jus’ people to me.”

You could feel the tears burning at your eyes, the stress of your nightmare rearing its ugly head. For a brief moment it was as if the deafening screech of metal was all around you again. Taking a deep breath you placed your hand on top of his. 

“Thanks Marvus.” 

His other hand came up to carefully wipe the tears from your eyes. Movements gentle as his thumb caressed your cheek. 

“What can I do?” He asked after a moment when the tears just kept coming. 

“I don’t…” More tears welled in your eyes blurring his face, “I don’t know.”

What a terrifying thought. The realization you didn’t know what would make you feel better at all. His hand brushed across your cheek again, then past it until he was carefully cupping the back of your head. He tilted you forwards as he leaned down until your foreheads were touching.

“That’s okay. Lemme jus’ take care of ya.” He spoke, voice soft. He tilted away from you to place a kiss to your scalp. “Don’ worry bout nothin’.” 

A shuddering breath left you as he deftly moved to lift you into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck you buried your head in his shoulder. Tears were burning at your eyes, trailing down your cheeks more insistent than before as you wrapped your legs around his legs. 

“I’ve got you. Ain’t nothin’ gon’ get you tonight, babe.” Claws rubbing soothingly up and down your back you allowed yourself to cry openly. Sobbing without restraint into his shoulder as he carried you back to bed. He wouldn’t shush you, the comfort he offered was different than what Polypa offered as your moirail. But it was more than you expected to receive and genuine. So very genuine. You knew he’d cleave the world in two if you asked and it terrified you as much as it soothed you. 

But tonight you could admit that it was what you needed. To know you were safe, to know you were loved, it was enough.

Hey just checking that youre ok!

I'm doing well! Just been busy with my job and real life in general. Haven't had as much time to write as I'd like but at least I'm making some money lol