Could you write a scenario about SF Papyrus smothering his sad S/O in affection.
(iāve been gone for far longer than i ever wanted or could be happy about, but i hope this little prompt for my return is comforting in some way.
He found you on the roof.
It was your favorite hideaway - you always felt it seemed too dramatic, even for only being the second story. But with easy enough access from your bedroom window, and the privacy afforded by it being on the rear half of the house, sometimes you couldnāt resist. Sometimes the world just felt like it was smothering you, and the open night sky that stretched above you when you laid on your back up there eased a little of the twisting tension in your chest.
āhuh. guess the weatherman was wrong after all.ā
You jolted up slightly at Russā voice rumbling behind you. With twist of your body and a messy shake of your hair, you were looking up into the soft yet too-sharp eyelights of your boyfriend - bonefriend, bonebae, any number of names fit the bill, really - with an attempt of a playful glare falling woefully short. You let your expression fall into one of waiting curiousity, knowing that the punchline was-
āmight have a bone tā pick with him. said that itād be clear, but itās looking a little cloudy right here over my sweetheart.ā
A half-laugh turned flustered intake of air brought a ghost of a smile to your face at last. His grin pulled pleased as he dropped to sit behind you, his hands untucking from his pockets to pull your back to his chest, and you fell into his embrace with quiet relief, even if his arrival and sweet jokes had not been able to wash you free of whatever this was hanging heavy in you.
ā¦ Even with his presence, quiet and sturdy behind you, the tension was growing again in your chest. It was brewing hot and prickly and rising more and more. Trying to choke it back down with a clenched jaw, your eyes screwed shut, the distant stars far away too clouded by a burning wetness that gathered in your eyes.
Russā arms tightened around you. His chin rested on top of your head, and you felt a gentle rumbling through his chest as he pulled you closer against him. He was humming a soft, low tune, a lullaby that you had heard him humming before, almost too sad to be calming but more lovely for it. In his voice it sounded like the ancient song of a sailor looking to the too-distant sea, a promise of tales older than memory finding itās winding way to you, down to your soul.
The tears rolled down your face now. Your hands clutched at his arms as you shook, crying quietly.
ādeep under the mountain cold,the rivers wind with tales of oldthe distant fire sweepscalling souls to coreto find their heartās strongholdā¦ā
His hands slipped along your arms, and with little effort he lifted you until you sat fully in his lap, your head finding its place easily in the crook of his neck as your arms circled around him under his jacket. His head nestled close to yours in turn, and you found your lungs once more as you inhaled his soft scent of clove cigarettes and whiskey and pine and maple syrup. One of his hands slipped through your hair, a soothing presence that massaged steady silent promises against your aching head. His other arm circled you, holding you closer yet, grounding you in your tears and wild sea of broken-through emotions as he continued singing to you.
āthe ground shakes yet far above,ancient water tortured fond of.we wait deep belowfallen but yet ālive,greater called in sought of love.ā
Your breathing slowed as he hummed onwards, the ache in your chest soothed at the gravel-soft slip of his voice. Shaky, too soft for anyone not as close as he was to hear, you began to hum along with him.
His hand stilled in your hair, but his voice didnāt waver.
His mouth pressed against your forehead as he tilted his face to press against you, the strength of his voice buzzing soft against your skin, and you felt as if his magic was wrapping around you just in the way his voice rumbled through his chest and against you pressed against him. Something in the haunting and bittersweet tune of the song, hummed with him, was relievingā¦ a lot of it. It hurt, stars did it hurt, butā¦
āā¦ youāve always been a fighter,ā his voice came then, his humming soft, but his teeth still pressed to your forehead. You stopped humming too, pressing just a bit closer to him. A pleased sound rumbled in him for a moment, almost too quiet to hear. āā¦ not inā¦ the usual way. in the quiet way. you alwaysā¦ persevere. sweet, and ready, and bearing too much, as always,ā he murmured. His hand lifting to your chin gently lifted your gaze to his.
It was intense, and admiringā¦ and deep within it, you almost caughtā¦ anger. Not at you - you knew him too well to think that.
āItās notā¦ itās fine,ā you said quietly, wincing internally at the cliche line even as his expression shifted. āThat isā¦ it will be fine, I meanā¦ā
āit will. but that doesnāt mean it canāt feel like too much in the meantime, darlinā.ā
Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the tears catch at your eyes again.
Russā thumb brushed away the tears at one eye, letting his words settle in you, an all-too-knowing look to the shine of his eyelights.
You hugged him harder and closed the last of the distance between you, pressing your lips to his mouth despite your fresh tears.
āThank you,ā you murmured, not willing to break the kiss to say it. You angled slightly, pulling him closer.
His hand swept along your jaw gently, returning your kiss tenfold and anchoring you in the thrum of his protective magic ghosting over his bones and echoing deep within his chest, his soul calling to yours in comfort and love.
