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plush-rabbit · 3 years ago

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Straightforward Confessions

Request: Oh ok then maybe when you have time can you do dabi, Bakugo, Tomura and Toga himiko with female s/o who's very straightforward about liking them? Recently I saw a similar request somewhere but unfortunately it looks like it was deleted :( I hope this isn’t too much for you.

A/N: I did this as more of a confession type rather than an established relationship because i feel like they would know if you like them if youre in a relationship with them, so yeah. Sorry if its not what you wanted:P (also i dont know enough about canon bakugo so yeah?)

Bakugo Katsuki:

Katsuki is a bit rough around the edges but he’s growing. He’s maturing and trying to be more of a team player rather than facing everything by himself and trying to prove himself to others. He doesn’t have a secret soft side, but he is kind in his own way. He looks out for his allies and includes them in his plan. He’s admirable, having such a strong goal in mind. But, he’s still one who has focused his entire goal towards becoming a hero, not having time for any romantic relationships.

Telling him your feelings isn’t exactly the best idea. You can never be sure where you stand with him- he isn’t some flirt or tries to attract his classmates in any way so you aren’t even sure if he will return your feelings. The only thing that you can actually rely on is that he won’t spread around the fact that you like him and that he’ll be in his room before the clock even strikes ten. You knock on his door and just like every day and night before, his room is empty, and he’s already dressed in his pajamas.

Your words blurt out before you can even subtly make the conversation about feelings. It’s silent for a minute, his expression is neutral and somehow that makes it harder for you to read, unable to know what he feels- even if it were to be something negative, you just wish you could gauge his reaction. He clears his throat, telling you to leave his room. He’s anything but sweet in your moment of confession and somehow that makes you feel relieved- knowing that what you said doesn’t change anything out of the ordinary, at least that you hope.

He isn’t entirely sure about how to feel towards you or his reaction. He has a restless night, tossing and turning and when he wakes up, he still feels exhausted.The next day, he’s unable to go on about his day like he usually does- he stutters in his insults, his attention drifting back towards you and he’s less than pleased with it all. He’s never used to actually developing feelings for someone and when you came to confess to him, it caught him off guard. He’s unable to tell whether he actually has romantic feelings for you or not.

The next few days consist of Katsuki in his own mind, trying to figure out the feelings that he does have for you. He would rather not leave you in the dark especially when you had the courage to actually confess to him. He walks up to you, calling for your attention and when you meet his eyes, he tells you that he’ll take you out on a date- something simple- enough for him to gauge his feelings for you.

Dabi:

Dabi is a hard individual to read and interact with. He puts on a stoic demeanor, trying to act as if he’s unbothered by the people around him, but he isn’t. He’s crude with his words, not bothering to mince them, self-assured despite how his quirk hurts him, passive-aggressive, making snide comments and grinning widely at the misfortune of others. He’s a being who tries so hard to appear to not care, but the truth is, he cares deeply about those around him, but his views and passions are brighter than his emotions.

Confessing to the cremation villain is easy. He likes being alone for most of the time, retreating to his room and if you were to follow him and request entry, he’d more than likely allow you. When you do so, he only shouts back with an “it’s open” and the door squeaks as you push it open. He raises his hand in a greeting and returns his attention to a magine, the thin pages pressed between his fingertips. When you call his name, he gives you his full attention, arms spread and legs extended, the magazine closed without a bookmark to return him.

It’s surprisingly easy to confess when there are no distractions around. He takes your confession with consideration. His eyes wide and head tilting, only for his features to morph into a wicked grin. He’ll humor you, tell you okay and when you can huff with a disappointed look, he waves his hand away. Once you’re gone, his smile quickly falls, his hand dragging down his face and his head knocking against the wall behind him.

You like him- that’s certainly something new. He isn’t entirely sure of the feelings he has towards you. He rubs his thumb and index finger together, trying to figure out what he does feel about you. He doesn’t want to string you along and give you any false sense of hope. Yet, he’s hardly aware of his own feelings towards you. While he prefers to be alone, he does enjoy spending his time with you and has the habit of trying to impress you when you two are out on mission together. Perhaps it is something akin to a crush or an emotion that mimics yours.

Time passes for him to actually gather his thoughts and feelings into something cohesive. However, during that, he has to avoid you and while that is less than pleasant, he needs to sort out his own feelings first. You were straightforward with him, it’s only right that Dabi confesses to you as you confessed the way to him. He goes to your room, sits beside you and tells you that he also has feelings for you.His eyes are on yours, his hand on his knee with his ring and pinky finger outstretched as if trying to grab your hand.

Shigaraki Tomura:

Tomura isn’t able to gauge feelings well considering he hasn’t had interaction with people other than what All For One allowed near him. He’s a born leader, focused and planning ahead, desperate to be on top. He has a strong will that he set out for himself that makes you believe that he actually has a chance at winning despite the odds. His personality is something painted in gold and you can’t help but want to admire him and want to be with him.

You speak to him in private, hoping that no one else will hear your confession to him. The only thing you can hope for in case of rejection is that he’ll treat you the same. You manage to get him when he’s alone, the door to his closed behind you and you sit beside him, asking him to just listen to what you have to say without interruptions. You tell him that you like him, plain and simple, that you have romantic feelings for him and while he doesn't have to return them, you also wanted to tell him. You don’t mention how you can’t seem to control your beating heart when around him.

New to these types of feelings- especially those that involve something more than friendship or hatred- he’s unsure of how to respond. The silence is enough for you to recognize that he needs to be alone with his thoughts. You pat his knee, telling him that he doesn’t have to respond, but you just wanted to tell him. You give his knee a squeeze and give him a soft smile, standing up and exiting his room, closing the door behind you, leaving a villain alone to fester with their thoughts.

The following days are odd. He’s in a mix between wanting to talk to you and be around you, desperate to figure out what should happen next, but he also wants to avoid you. You left him to fester with his thoughts and he has. It’s a mess of emotions that go on inside of him. He doesn’t know how he feels about you. This group is as close as he’s ever got to friendship and freedom, romance was something completely off the table, discarded and told it was worthless. He’s unsure how to feel about you.

He knows that he likes you, but he isn’t sure if he likes you simply because you’re one of the few who treated him as a person rather than a villain first or if he actually likes you in a romantic sense. Tomura figures he must like you back- he thinks about you constantly, but confessing to you is difficult. But, he doesn’t want you to think of him anything less for being inexperienced with relationships. He comes up to you, his gaze on you, trying not to look away while doing so. He clears his throat, his hand against his neck as he tells you that he does have some sort of feelings for you but that he’s new to anything romantic.

Toga Himiko:

Himiko is an energetic one. She wears her heart on her sleeve, falling for those who have strong hearts and love struck once she does. There’s a lot to like about her- her energy, her excitement, her personality and how she laughs and seems to constantly move when just standing. You were drawn to her, your heart pounding in your chest, and you could only take so much of it before you confessed to her.

Once you confess to her, she is a bit dumbfounded at first. She’ll stare blankly at you for a minute, her head tilted and hands are relaxed as she processes your words. After a moment of silence, she's smiling wide and wrapping her arms around you, her face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. She pulls away, her hands never leaving your body as she comments how happy she is to hear that, and that she returns your feelings. Her lips peck at the corner of your lips, a pink tint dusting across her face as she confirms that you do have feelings for her. She accepts your feelings for her with an open heart, holding your hand tightly and wanting to show off that you two are something more than friends.

After the initial day of feelings being confessed, she’ll avoid you the next day. The night before, she was fine, chatting with you the night before, holding your hand and painting your nails to match hers. The next day, she avoids you. You don't see her in the morning, and nor does anyone else- or at least they merely shrug and mention that she was feeling sick and locked herself in her room.

As a villain, her options for romance are limited and having you confess to her is almost too good to be true. She’s unsure of what to say, of how to even act other than the girl who’s in love. She’ll call for you, shoot you a quick message for you to meet her in her room where she confesses her fears. For once, you see a more serious side of her, her eyes downcast and grin gone, replaced with only a slight frown.

It’s obvious that she likes you as well, returning your feelings, but she’s just so nervous about the relationship- the woulds and the ifs. She wants to be close to you but she also fears that she’ll be too much during it. A reassurance about the relationship moving at a pace comfortable for her calms her worries, her smile gentle and her cheeks tinting with a pink hue. She hugs you tight, her perfume light and sweet like candy as she nuzzles her face into your neck.

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

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My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x soulmate!reader #tom hiddleston soulmate au #soulmate au #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #completely self indulgent #as always

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angry-geese · 3 years ago

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Choso Kamo x Reader

Warnings: sfw. mention of nudity but it's really nothing graphic. very brief nsfw mention. fluff. gn!reader

Notes: some fluff with Choso. reader decides to have a spa day and makes Choso join them

Word Count: 1.8k

It feels like it's been forever since you've gotten a day to relax like this.

You've designated today as a self care day. You could really use one. It's been a while since you properly sat back and relaxed. You've decided to go all out, breaking out new skincare and slightly pricier soaps you were saving for a rainy day. Things you always said you’d use, but never did because the situation never felt right. You figure you'll do your hair, too. Might as well. You’ve got time.

You like your showers warm. It always worries Choso that you’ll burn yourself. You sit with your hand in the water, gauging the temperature. A thin layer of bubbles covers the surface. Steam coils off the water. It's hot enough.

Choso can't help but watch with almost a childlike wonder. Wherever you go, he tends to follow. In his defense, he's curious. All the soaps and candles smell good. He's never really seen you do anything like this.

His gaze drifts to the floor when you start undressing. He's not sure why, only that he knows it's wrong to stare. He's seen you like this plenty of times before, but it always makes him blush. Doesn't matter if it's his first time, or his hundredth. You remind him that it's okay to look, that he can see you like this. Only he gets to see you like this. He's certain of that.

You try to distract from the anxiety of being the only naked one in the room.

"Are you coming in or not?" You ask.

"You want me to..." His face turns bright red.

"Of course," you motion for him to join you.

You coax his shirt over his head. He gets the hint, undressing the rest of the way.

He watches with baited breath as you slip into the water, steam drifting off your skin. You sigh and lean back, resting your head on the edge of the tub. The suds cling to your skin.

He settles into the water in front of you, his knees pulled to his chest. You part your legs enough to give him room to sit between them. He leans against your chest, trying to be mindful of his weight. He really isn't that heavy, but he's a bit wary of hurting you. You card a wet hand through his hair, drawing it out of his eyes. The warm water and epsom salts feel nice across his sore muscles. It's a bit too hot for him, leaving his skin pink, but you don't seem to be bothered by it so he says nothing. You gather a bit of suds in your hands, leaving a dot of them on his nose, laughing at his confused look.

Choso closes his eyes and sighs, leaning into your touch. You press a kiss to the top of his head. His cheeks turn bright red. Your arms snake around his body, holding him to your chest. He leans his head back, his eyes meeting yours. His hair tickles your neck.

“I feel like I could fall asleep.” He says.

You rest your chin on top of his head. “Good.”

He's never felt love quite like this. Of course he's felt love before; with his brothers, for his friends. But his love for you is vastly different. It's strange. He wants to hold you close and never let you go. He’s head-over-heels for you. The way you look at him with such adoration makes his chest swell with affection. He can't stop the smile that spreads across his face.

The face mask is a violent shade of green against your skin. You warm the paste up in your hands for a moment, though you can't tell if it helps or not. It smells strongly of cucumbers. You don't want to get up to look in the mirror, so you haphazardly apply it to your nose and the skin under your eyes.

“Do you want some?” You ask. He looks uncertain, but he nods anway.

"It's cold," he says.

"It's good for your skin." You say.

You give him a pleading look. You've forced him to sit while you paint his nails, or braid his hair. He likes it. As long as you're giving him attention, he'll tolerate a lot.

His response is only a wary look. He relaxes once you finish, closing his eyes, leaning back into your chest. Your body is warm. He runs a bit cold, naturally. He hardly notices it, but you certainly do. The hot water has turned his skin a nice shade of red. Under the water, his hand rests on your thigh, gripping it softly. He likes the way your thighs rest around his waist. They're warm, and softer than his. He's always admired how soft you are. He loves the way your body curves and dips. He loves the way his clothes look on you, or yours on him. He thinks you're strong, sturdy and beautiful in a way he never knew before he met you.

"Lean your head back so I'm not waterboarding you," you say, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He hums as you pour a bit of water over his head, your fingers working through his hair. Your nails are getting long. They feel nice against his scalp.

He practically begs you to play with his hair. He says it helps him sleep. You believe it. He's usually knocked out within minutes of you starting. Many of your nights together are spent with him sitting between your legs, or his head in your lap. It doesn't matter how warm it is outside, he has to sleep either in your arms, or with you in his.

The shampoo you use smells like coconuts, he notes. It smells nice. He practically purrs in delight as you start working the suds into his hair. His breath hitches as you brush a particularly sensitive spot at his temple. You make sure to work that area specifically.

You work out any tangles in his hair with conditioner and your fingers. He likes this part the best. You spend extra time brushing your fingers through his hair. He groans when you work down to his neck, kneading the muscles of his shoulders in your hands. At this point you aren't even scrubbing his head anymore.

He's almost disappointed when you stop.

"Let me do yours." He says.

Choso moves so you can lean against his chest. You worry about putting all of your weight on him. He insists he can take it. He can. But your initial hesitation is there. His chin rests on top of your head. His strong arms snake around you, holding you close. You feel so safe in his arms. You could fall asleep there.

And you just might.

His fingers run through your hair as he pours water over your head, shielding your eyes. He knows it can be a bit unpleasant. Once your hair is wet, he squeezes a sizable glob of shampoo onto his hands. Your hair is soft, he notes. He wonders if you like your hair being played with as much as he does. You hum softly as he starts to work it into your hair.

Slowly his hands work down, kneading the muscles of your neck and shoulders. Goosebumps raise along your flesh. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. His hands are warm. You find yourself dozing off in his arms. You feel so safe cradled against his chest.

When all the suds are rinsed out, he helps you work out any knots with his fingers. He likes the texture of the conditioner far less. It's cold and slimy, he says. You're not sure if that's how you'd describe it. He'd use 5-in-1 soap if you'd let him; which might be Yuji's fault.

He leans down to give you a kiss. It's just a quick peck, but the warmth of his lips lingers on yours for long after. You pull him back to deepen it, your tongue pressing past his lips, exploring his mouth. A line of saliva connects your lips when you pull away. You giggle at the way his face turns red.

Under the water, his fingers lace with yours. You lift his hand up, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. His heartbeat stops for a moment, before picking up in pace.

The two of you stay like that until long after the water has gone cold. Choso’s breathing has evened out, he hasn't moved in quite a while. You’re too warm and content in his arms to move. You’re not sure how long it’s been since you’ve dozed off. But the water is cold, and your fingers and toes are wrinkly from being underwater for so long.

“Did you fall asleep?” You ask, giggling when he shakes his head.

He still tries to hold onto you even as you get out of the water. You’ll worry about cleaning up in the morning.

You steal one of his shirts to wear. It's too big for the both of you, and has long since been designated a sleep shirt. His clothes are always huge on him, he likes the way they swallow him (and you) up. He sits with you between his knees, drying your hair off with a towel. You hate going to bed with wet hair.

Idly you flip through channels, looking for something to watch. Not much looks good. You have netflix—you have Yuji’s password—but nothing there looks good either. Eventually you settle on a late-night game show. You’re not particularly interested in it, but it's pretty nostalgic. It used to wake you up when you were a kid.

“Let me paint your nails,” you say. “Please?”

He nods. Your pleading look will be the death of him. Choso can't deny you anything.

He’s never been so hopelessly in love.

You sit cross-legged in front of him, pulling one of his hands into your lap. The nail polish you choose for him is clear. The other ones are in the bathroom, and you don't feel like getting up. You’ve tried all sorts of colors on him. His favorites are black and dark purple. He thinks they match his outfits rather well.

When you’re done, you grab ahold of both his hands, carefully examining his nails. They look fine. Really, you just want to hold his hands. You deem them good enough. He holds his hands as still as possible so as to not smear the nail polish.

When you’re finally ready to settle down for the night, he pulls you into his arms. You tug the covers up to your chin, making sure to wrap them around him too.

“Y/N?” He says.

“Yes?”

“I love you.” He says.

“I know.” You say. “I love you too.”

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso kamo #choso #choso fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years ago

Note

Prompt: fake realtionahip/marriage, whoever you like!

Ooohoho! This has been chilling as a draft for ages, now I have completed it. *mildly evil laughter*

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The funny thing about Geralt, Jaskier thought as he did up the buttons on his best doublet, was that he really didn’t lie. He said things that weren’t true, but they were usually things he believed, or thought he believed because he was tired or grumpy. Sometimes he told half truths. He didn’t lie though.

It wasn’t even as if he didn’t have a poker face, Geralt’s face was all poker face, he just hated lying. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but tonight, Jaskier reflected, it wouldn’t be ideal.

Jaskier had heard through some whispered words at a pub that a bunch of Nilfgaardian nobles were having a gala, and the temptation of finding out what political secrets they could was two strong for their odd little family. So Geralt and Jaskier were going undercover.

There had been quite a bit of debate about that. Jaskier was obviously going. He’d grown his hair longer and had a bit of scruff going, and to be frank, all a bard really needed to disguise themselves was a new name, people saw the clothing and heard the music, but rarely remembered the face. Yennefer would have been the ideal partner in crime except for a crucial thing.

When Yennefer had been changed by magic, her eyes had been left the same. Somehow, the transformation had solidified them, and no spell would change them. Her eyes were too distinctive, and so she would stay behind with Ciri. That left Geralt, and since the ball was only for the nobility, he would be the fiance of Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

Damn.

See, Geralt didn’t lie, and that was bad enough. Jaskier wouldn’t be able to rely on Yennefer’s in-depth knowledge of the nobility and that was worse. Worst of all though, was the fact that Jaskier would have to spend a night full of wine and dancing pretending to be in love with, and engaged to, Geralt. Who he loved.

And who had, not three months ago, blamed Jaskier for every bad thing in life.

Since then Geralt had caught up with him half-way down the mountain and there had been some grumbled words about how Jaskier ‘wasn’t actually, exactly, a total curse’. Not a glowing review, but then Cintra had fallen, and they had Cirilla and they’d found a wounded Yennefer and it had all gotten so very busy.

Jaskier cast a last look in the mirror as the door to his room creaked open. He turned, expecting Geralt, but it was Yennefer.

“I suppose,” she said, eyeing him. “That this is as good as you get.” It could have been said cruelly. A year ago it would have been. Now, though, the words were fond.

“I like the kohl, it goes well with the wrinkles at your eyes,” she winked. He smiled. There were no more wrinkles now than had been twenty years ago, and they both knew it.

“I wasn’t sure about the eyeliner,” Jaskier said, trying to sound haughty. “Overdramatic eye looks are your thing.”

Yennefer chuckled and sat on the end of the bed. “A tiny smudge of eyeliner is hardly overdramatic.” She studied him approvingly, then looked at him. Her expression was frighteningly soft.

“Have you told him that you love him?”

“Never,” Jaskier said, fiving his cravat in the mirror.

“Why ever not?”

“It would only be the mountain all over again,” Jaskier sighed. “I tried, you know. I spent years trying, and then on the mountain, I thought I was being clear...”

“What did you say?”

“I asked him to leave it all, just for a little while, with me. I thought we could go to the coast.”

“The coast,” Yennefer said from her spot on the bed. “As in Lettenhove? You wanted to show him where you grew up?”

“Partially. I could explain the immortality business easier if he met my sister, but mostly I just thought it would be peaceful.”

Yennefer snorted. “With Geralt? Peaceful? He’d spend the whole time fighting drowners and telling you not to write about mermaids because they’re vicious.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “That’s pretty peaceful for him.”

“But he said no?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Jaskier said. “Then he, well, you know, he spent the night in your tent.”

“Ah,” Yennefer said. “For what it’s worth, I hate that it happened too.”

“He doesn’t though!” Jaskier cried, whirling around to face her. “He wants it to happen again! And you! You don’t want him but he wants you while I want him!” The frustration of the whole situation and nerves for what was to come were overwhelming. “And you’re here, trying to help me,” he said more quietly. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Yennefer said, simply, standing from the bed. “And I like him. I also never, ever want to kiss him again. The djinn is sitting, somewhere in my chest, telling me I love him, but the feeling is...sick. It feels like love, as well as I can remember, but it’s poisoned and twisted and I want no part in it.”

Her purple eyes pinned Jaskier to the floor.

“And that poison pales in comparison to how much you love him. He deserves that.”

She swept out the door, tossing a “Sort it out,” over her shoulder.

Well.

The next knock at the door was Geralt, Ciri in tow. Jaskier hoped the witcher hadn’t heard any part of his and Yennefer’s conversation, but he suspected that no one overheard conversations that Yen didn’t want them too.

“Dandelion!” Ciri said, leaping at him and using the name she’d first met him under. “You look nice! Like a prince in one of your stories!”

Jaskier blushed and thanked her quietly as he scooped her up and tossed her, laughing, onto the bed.

He looked at Geralt for his opinion.

Oh he looked so good too. Yennefer had charmed him so that anyone else would see a different man in Geralt’s place, but to Jaskier he looked just the same. But he was wearing white.

A white chemise, the collar and cuffs with fine red embroidery, with a cream colored cape, half length so it fell just to Geralt’s hips. It was embroidered too, green and pink and so many other colors, despite being overall still mostly cream. The pants were the same creamy fabric with a stripe down each side. Dark boots and a wide, decorative, dark belt completed the look.

“Wow,” Jaskier said.

“Rivian traditional clothing,” Geralt muttered.

“I thought you’d hardly actually been to Rivia,” Jaskier said,.It was a better choice than the other thoughts in his head, which were half-formed screams about how absolutely skin tight those pants were.

“I haven’t been, but my...character is.”

“Right,” Jaskier said, dragging his eyes above Geralt’s shoulders. “My fiance, Ludomir of Rivia.”

Geralt said nothing.

Jaskier kicked himself for mentioning the fiance thing.

“We should go,” he said.

And they went.

The lord’s castle was small, as castles go, and the guards at the gate didn’t even bother to check their invitations. With all the other lords and ladies streaming past, no one would guess that the pair were out of place. Jaskier and Geralt enterred the ballroom and Jaskier felt his stomach drop straight through to his shoes.

The walls were positively lined with Nilfgaardian soldiers. Geralt’s shoulders stiffened too, but they steered themselves to a feast table as if nothing was wrong.

It took them almost a full circle of the tables to find the two little cards for ‘Viscount de Lettenhove’ and ‘Guest’. Getting onto the guest list had been laughably easy, and Jaskier just sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the stupid title was finally useful for something.

They sat in their places and guests populated the seats around them. There was a lady next to Jaskier who already smelled of the strongly alcoholic sherry that was being served. Her hair, probably a wig towered, and was strung all over with so many pearls and little tiny golden ornaments that when she stepped outside she must surely be attacked by magpies.

“My lady,” Jaskier said, as chivalrous as he could around a mouthful of her rose perfume. “I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to be introduced.”

“Oooh,” she giggled, “You’re sweet, I’m Dame Au’Vigne, and I can see by your card that you are the Viscount de Lettenhove, I knew your father.”

Yes, Jaskier thought. I remember, he turned down your proposal. Jaskier had been a lad then, barely eight years old, but he remembered through a child’s eyes a mountain of lace and perfume who had offered to marry his father while actually at his mother’s funeral.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said. Heinous bitch, he thought. He remembered rumors too, which are always a bard’s stock and trade, that Dame Au’Vigne’s husbands were always wealthy, usually handsome, and all of them had shockingly short lifespans.

Rumor also had it that she was backing Nilfgaard financially and had been playing the shipping stock with insider knowledge of their movements. A very good person to be seated next to tonight.

“May I introduce my fiance, Ludomir of Rivia,” Jaskier said, gesturing to Geralt. Geralt nodded and hummed, somewhat politely.

“How handsome,” Dame Au’Vigne stage whispered. “Where ever did you find him?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jaskier said.

The lord of the castle stood up and gave a droning speech. It was full of euphemisms about ‘upholding standards’ and ‘fostering strong relations’ that boiled down to ‘I’m an untrustworthy bastard who believes that allowing the deaths of my people en masse is fine so long as I make money.’ It was depressing, too, as Jaskier looked around the ballroom to see so many people nodding in agreement.

Traitors and bastards, the lot of them.

Geralt’s face hadn’t changed even an inch.

“So,” Dame Au’Vigne said as the appetizer course was served. “You two aren’t exactly in a honeymoon phase, are you?”

And she was right, for a couple, newly engaged, Jaskier and Geralt hadn’t acted the part yet at all.

“I’m afraid,” Jaskier said, inventing wildly. “That we’re both just a touch nervous, the engagement is so new, you see, and this is our first event,” he took Geralt’s hand, above the table, so Dame Au’Vigne could see. “As a couple.”

“Oh how sweet,” she said airily. “You know, they’ll have dancing between the courses, it’ll be a great way for you to wet your social feet. Sir Erdin and the lady in the lavender dress,” she pointed across the ballroom. “They’re newly engaged as well.” She lowered her voice.

“Sir Erdin is very supportive of the cause, word has it he’s in with the very inner circle,” Dame Au’Vigne giggled, as if being in the inner circle of a murderous group of intruders was as delightful as a recent engagement.

“How interesting!” Jaskier said, affecting a jealous and impressed tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geralt’s eyebrow twitch, the way it did when he was listening hard.

“Oh yes,” Dame Au’Vigne said. “And Lord Snapcase, in the corner, he...” and she went on, was the marvelous thing, she couldn’t seem to help herself but gossip about everyone. And she had all these details about how they were helping ‘the cause’. Destiny must have finally decided to throw Jaskier and Geralt a bone.

Then the appetizer course was finished and Jaskier felt much less lucky. Dame Au’Vigne was ushering him and Geralt out of their seats to dance. It wasn’t one of the quick, hopping around, switching partners dances either. No, the band seemed insistent on only slow, romantic music.

Awkwardly, Geralt slid one large hand around Jaskier’s waist and they turned in slow circles on the dance floor. The witcher’s face looked like a thunderclap.

“Try and look like you’re having fun, darling,” Jaskier said. Please don’t look at me as though holding me is torture, his inner self begged.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Jaskier leaned in.

“Really dear heart,” he leaned in even closer, lips almost touching Geralt’s ear. “People are going to suspect something,” he said in the barest of whispers.

“Let them,” Geralt hissed back in the same fashion. “We’ve got the information, we can leave.”

Jaskier, keeping up appearances, tossed his head back and let out a delighted shriek of laughter, as if Geralt had just told him a joke or, perhaps, made a wonderfully indecent proposal.

“Later, perhaps,” he said, stage-whispering for the sake of those around them. Leaning in again he whispered for real, “We can’t leave until the party’s over, no one else will, they’d send some of those soldiers after us for sure.”

The music changed, and Geralt and Jaskier’s slow circles changed speed with it.

Geralt hissed in his ear again, “I don’t see why I had to be your,” this close Jaskier could see Geralt’s jaw working with distaste. “Lover.”

“Fiance,” Jaskier said, trying not to let his heart sink. It couldn’t possibly go any lower. “There’s a difference.”

They said no more to each other, and after the second dance, declined the third to sit back at their seats and await the arrival of the soup course.

The man sat beside Geralt was some old military man, mostly mustache and the rest of him was a rather musty and very old fashioned uniform. It had gold braid and a colonel’s insignia. The hat that sat next to his chair had a plume.

He leaned over to Geralt and said, rather loudly, in a voice that implied tone deafness, to both volume and social situations, “Just marrying him for the money, eh?”

People to both sides of Jaskier and Geralt looked around. Dame Au’Vigne looked at them askance.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. It was a negative answer to the colonel’s question, but the man didn’t take it as such.

“Often is the way,” the man nearly bellowed. “My missus hated me right up to the day she died.”

Jaskier curled in on himself. The role of Viscount wasn’t a big one, mostly administrative and, these days, completed by his sister Rowena, who was better at sitting behind a desk. Still, argued a battered part of his long ago but still proper upbringing. The name of Pankratz was being dragged through the mud. Lots of these people would know the name too, these sour, vindictive, unpleasant, murderous people. And they’d know the gossip, would have taken part in the gossip about ‘Young Julian running off to be a bard,’ (this generally said with the same tone as is usually leant to slave trader) and how ‘he’ll never find a good marriage now,’ how he was ‘a disgrace to the name.’

And here was their long awaited confirmation. Jaskier-Julian, couldn’t find a good marriage, was being wed only for his money. Of course, more than half the pairings here were only in it for the money, but to have it said, so loudly too, and before the wedding had even happened, it was social condemnation.

Jaskier looked down at the table cloth, his face hot. He’d faced social condemnation before, of course, he’d survive. What hurt was that Geralt wasn’t really protesting, Geralt couldn’t even pretend to like Jaskier, not for a single evening. Twenty years he’d done a good enough job of acting to convince even Jaskier, mostly, apart from the punches and the insults and...maybe Jaskier had been a little blind to the truth but still.

It was ruining their cover though, so he protested quietly. “Not just for the money,” he said, patting Geralt’s hand where one fist wrapped around his goblet. “My fiance is just shy, that’s all.”

The damage was already done, but the old colonel hiccupped. “Well lad,” he said, giving Geralt a slap on the back. “This ale’s pretty good so drink up. Got me through three years of happy marriage, strong ale did.” The man took a slug of his own drink. “And fourty seven more unhappy years.” He guffawed hugely and unpleasantly, little drops of ale flinging from his mustache.

Wherever the soul of the unpleasant man’s dead wife was, Jaskier felt sure she was happy to be away from this miserable old drunk.

Geralt, however, was looking at Jaskier. Their eyes met. Jaskier knew he probably looked as hunted as he felt, and his cheeks were probably still burning from the embarassment. Still, it seemed as though Geralt was about to say something. His golden eyes were full of emotion, but Jaskier couldn’t parse out what kind.

Whatever kind it was, it caused Geralt to take the colonel’s advice and drink like there was no tomorrow.

Great. Jaskier had driven his companion to drinking.

He felt a little like doing so himself.

The soup course was good, hot and savory, but underspiced. Geralt slurped it up gratefully. Jaskier knew that rich food was usually too much for his senses if it was spiced to Jaskier’s taste.

More dancing. Jaskier didn’t stand, at first, assuming that Geralt would rather sit and drink more. There were some snickers as people judged him. Geralt stood though, and he offered a hand and led Jaskier to the dance floor.

“You need to act drunk,” Jaskier whispered in his ear. “If you were a normal man you would be.”

“I am acting,” Geralt rumbled.

“You’re very steady for a drunk,” Jaskier sniffed.

“You said I was shy, now I’m less shy,” Geralt whispered. “And I’ve been drinking. So...drunk.” It was torture, being held like this, having that voice in Jaskier’s ear. That hand, so warm cupping his own. He wanted to cry.

A couple whirled past them. It was the Dame Au’Vigne, gossiping to some new dance partner. A snippet of her words caught them.

“-de Lettenhove. Entirely loveless of course. Unlovable, his father said once, of course as a bard-” then the tide of conversation and other dancers stole the rest of the words.

Jaskier sagged. His father hadn’t been a nice man, and unlovable wasn’t the worst of what he’d been called in his life, but now, with Geralt so close and so disgusted by the prospect...well, it hit a little close to home.

“Laugh,” Geralt whispered in his ear.

“What?” Jaskier hissed.

“Like before, laugh like before, but...more so. Pretend I said a dirty joke.”

Jaskier did, heads turned as he pretended to laugh, half scandalized and half delighted at something Geralt said.

Geralt even chuckled along with him. Then his hand crept down Jaskier’s back to his hip. It wasn’t dirty. It was just so,so spine tinglingly close to dirty.

It was almost worse. If Geralt had gripped his ass that would have been bad, but this, Jaskier was left to speculate. He had a very active imagination. The couples next to them were giggling and tittering, scandalized, but not too much, at the pair.

They danced all three dances. During the second dance Geralt spun Jaskier out and then back in flashily, dipping him over one arm like a dainty maiden. Jaskier, who was no dainty maiden, knew the strength that elaborate dip must have taken and his head spun. The third dance was slow, and once again they simply held one another and turned in slow circles. Except Geralt pressed their cheeks together in a way that was so intimate that Jaskier finally gave in. Just tonight he had Geralt, all of him, his attention, his warmth.

There was only so much a bard could take, and Jaskier gave in to the fantasy.

“I wonder how Yennefer is,” Geralt whispered. “And Ciri.”

It was like having cold water poured all over him. Jaskier’s fantasy shattered as soon as it had formed. Of course Geralt wasn’t enjoying this, of course his mind was elsewhere. He had a beautiful sorceress to think of, even if they weren’t sleeping together. Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri made the perfect, happy family. Where did Jaskier fit in to that?

He pulled back a little, already missing the warmth of Geralt’s cheek against his own. They finished the dance stiffly.

Back at the table, squished between Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, the main course was awful. Jaskier couldn’t judge it on the food, which he barely tasted. Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, however, had apparently come to the conclusion that Geralt or, Ludomir, rather, was marrying Jaskier for the money and the sex. They tittered, loudly and drunkely, to those around, and Geralt leaned in.

“Surely we can leave after this course,” he whispered.

Desperate to be rid of the charade, Jaskier thought. To not have to be engaged to me. “Can’t,” he whispered. “Have to stay for dessert and more dancing, else it looks suspect.”

“Hmmm.” It was a displeased hum.

“And, there will be small talk, with dessert. You need to say something, people will think you’re mute.”

“You two twitter into one another’s ears all the time,” Dame Au’Vigne said loudly. She was fully drunk off the sherry and very loud. “But not one kiss,” she lowered her voice, as if trying to be discreet. It didn’t work. “Is it truly as loveless as they say? I know you aren’t waiting until marriage.”

As who say? Jaskier thought. The only person quite that invested seems to be you.

“Not loveless,” Jaskier said. It seemed weak even to his ears.

“Surely you’ll join the dancing again, then,” Dame Au’Vigne said.

“No,” Jaskier said, fiddling with his napkin. “I’m feeling quite too full to dance, ate too fast, I’m afraid.” He hoped she was too drunk to notice he’d picked at his plate. It seemed she was.

“Lovely little veranda, get some air there,” said a man who, according to Dame Au’Vigne, was shipping weapons to Nilfgaard behind the backs of multiple heads of state.

Jaskier nodded,stood, bowed, and made his escape. He sighed, but wasn’t surprised to find that Geralt had followed along behind. Of course he wanted to escape the party too, but Jaskier wanted to escape...him.

To his shame and surprise, he found tears in his eyes. The pressure of sitting in a room chock full of people who wanted to kill him, combined with the fact that every last one of them reminded him of being bullied in school, and add to that that he was supposed to be fake engaged to Geralt...it was too much. Fake engaged and even in their fake engagement Geralt didn’t like Jaskier.

Jaskier’s rational brain knew that Geralt did like him, mostly. He just didn’t love him.

Jaskier leaned his elbows on the railing, overlooking some moonlit gardens, and felt the tears roll down his face.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said quietly.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. He knew Geralt could smell the salt of his tears or whatever, but still turned his face away so the witcher couldn’t see.

“I danced with you though.”

Jaskier chuckled wetly. “Nobles dance with people they hate all the time.”

Geralt was quiet for a minute then, very gently, he took one of Jaskier’s hands. “I don’t hate you.”

It was too much, Jaskier started crying in earnest, sobbing.

“C’mon, Jaskier, I like you. A lot.” Geralt was, for him, panicking clearly. Jaskier almost smiled. He was so bad at dealing with other people’s emotion. And his own.

“You��re my friend,” Geralt said, a little stuntedly. “You know I’m not a good liar.”

Too much. Twenty-two years and he finally said the word ‘friends’ and Jaskier wanted more. He whipped around to face Geralt.

“Tell me the truth, then, Geralt. Tell me you love me, it doesn’t have to be the truth for forever, but can you love me just for a night? Can you make it the truth for tonight?” Jaskier’s tears were ugly and blobby and drying up fast but he continued.

“Because I’ve loved you so long I don’t know any other truth,” He leaned forward and planted his forhead on Geralt’s collarbone and sniffled through the last of his tears, curling one, shaking fist into Geralt’s lovely pale cape as he cried. “Just this one night, Geralt, love me back.”

He hadn’t meant to say any of it, was half expecting Geralt to toss him off the low balcony into the bushes below.

Instead Jaskier was lifted by two strong arms and sat down on the railing. Warm, delightful lips pressed against his and suddenly he was being kissed within an inch of his life.

“The truth, you want,” Geralt said, pulling back and panting. “Is the only one I can give. I can’t pretend to love you.” Here Geralt looked into Jaskier’s eyes, like being struck by lightning. “I only love you, no pretending, I swear it.”

“But-” Jaskier was cut off.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said, furiously. “I think you think I don’t like you, Jaskier I like you, I love you so much I don’t know what to do and I’m...I’m not good with words. Or emotions.” Geralt’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just am, and the way I am is... The way I am is better with you.”

Geralt’s face screwed up with anguish. “And I’m the reason you think I don’t like you, it’s my fault and that feels so...so bad. Yennefer’s been working with me on the feelings thing and always says ‘bad isn’t a feeling’ but I can’t tell you what all the feeling is.”

Jaskier was staring, mouth open, as frustrated, stilted, fumbling words left Geralt’s mouth. They sounded angry, but only at himself. Geralt was looking up at him as if seeking benediction.

“Tell me you love me again,” Jaskier said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Jaskier giggled as Geralt lifted him and spun him around before tucking him in close and kissing his forehead.

“I,” he said.

A kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “Love.”

A deep, breathtaking kiss to his lips. “You.”

There was nothing left for Jaskier to say except, “wow.”

Geralt smiled, that lovely warm little smile he saved for special times and offered his arm to Jaskier. “Shall we?”

They paraded back into the ballroom and danced the final dance of the set. Geralt whispered a suggestion of what he’d really like for dessert and this time Jaskier didn’t have to fake the scandalized giggle. “Back home, perhaps,” he said.

Dessert meant more conversation with Dame Au’Vigne, which was of course unbearable. There was plenty of Champagne though, which was pretty good, and the bubbles seemed to fill Jaskier all the way up. He took pleasure in picturing the downfall of all these horrible people when Nilfgaard was finally defeated for good.

He especially enjoyed sticking it to her gossip when he fed Geralt a strawberry with cream from his fingertips and recieved a kiss in thanks. Geralt was clearly enjoying himself too. He had a sweet tooth, and that certainly helped, but his hand that never left Jaskier’s under the table was a much better clue.

They walked back to the inn, flushed and warm in the cool night air, bidding farewell to the other drunken lords and ladies all filtering to finer inns or grand coaches.

Then they were alone on their path back, Geralt’s witcher senses confirming their isolation. Then, Geralt, who never told lies, whispered sweet nothings into Jaskier’s ear the entire way home. Jaskier believed every single one.

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It’s done, this one’s quite long and I loved writing it. Geralt is useless at playing pretend, but very good at loving Jaskier in his own way. I imagine his emotion lessons with Yennefer must have been rather intense.

#the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #fake dating #getting together #fluff #fluff and angst #tiny amount of horniness #read with caution

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may-fanfic · 4 years ago

Text

Hatred

summary: natasha is recklesss during her missions and you hate it after one certain mission, the two of you have an argument and it ends with you confessing your undying love to the spy.

Rating: 18+

word count: 1,285

warning: mentions of possible death, smut, fingering, oral sex

((feel free to send in some request))

masterlist

—————-

your yells could be heard through the compound, the screaming, the relentless anger that coursed through the both of your veins had been very prominent and everyone in the tower hated it. they were praying that you two could just kiss and make up but it sounded like you both had only gotten started.

Natasha fixed her mouth to speak but was quickly cut off when you spoke first, it only angered her more. “you’re so careless.” your voice had been breathy and Natasha wondered why you even cared that she put her life on the line. “this is absurd.” she muttered under her breath, running a hand under her eyes before she looked back at you. her usually soft gaze had been piercing and almost made you back down but you refused to let her intimidate you the way she could the others.

“i’m not in the mood for a lecture.” she stated bluntly, moving to lean back against her bed, her eyes closed. “you don’t even care.” you stated unbelievably but in reality you should’ve known that Natasha would react this way. “why is it so hard for you to understand that i don’t want anything to happen to you? you could’ve died!” your voice had been wary and broken but it still held the same fire as before.

“but i didn’t! why is it so hard for you to understand that i don’t care what happens to me?” she yelled back, finally sitting up from the bed so that she had been directly in front of you, her cheeks pink from yelling. “because i care about what happens!” you yelled back, shoving your hands against her chest but she didn’t even flinch instead biting the inside of her cheek so she could stop herself from reacting.

“you could’ve died too, y/n! i saved you!”

“but at what cost, Natasha?” her breathing had been hard and rapid and all she could think about was shutting you up with a kiss, a hard kiss that left you gasp for more but she knew better than to overstepped her boundaries. “you’re safe, I’m safe. what does it matter?” her voice had become gentle as if she had been trying to make amends and that’s when she saw the tension in your shoulders drop, sadness out shining the anger. “i could’ve lost you, nat.” she shrugged and now the anger resurfaced as you backed yourself up against the door, hugging yourself softly. “and what’s so bad about tha-“

“because i love you!” you yelled angrily but Natasha had quickly softened, feeling like she had been a puddle of mush. “what?” it slipped past her lips because all she wanted was for you to say it again. tell her you loved her again and then she’d apologize and tell you that she would definitely be more careful next time. she needed you to give her something that made living worth it and you uttered it out with no hesitation, your eyebrow knitting together in anger because you hadn’t realized that you just admitted to loving your best friend.

“i love you, why can’t you understand that it’s so hard to think about losing you?” you had looked like an angry child and all Natasha wanted to do was wipe away the creases between your eyebrows to soothe you. “i understand.” she breathed out, before taking big steps towards you, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks as she stared down at you, only now, did you feel so small and vulnerable. she was staring at you so intensely like she wanted to do something but didn’t have the courage to do it.

“you’re so relentless.” you breathed out, staring up at her as her breath fanned over your face, a smile tugged in the corner of her lips. you didn’t get to admire the smile for long because she was quickly leaning forward and pressing her lips against yours hungrily causing you to gasp against her plump lips. she was quick to place her hands against your waist and keep you pinned to the door, her fingers tips felt like fire on your skin. you reached up, hooking your arms around her neck, tugging her closer and deepening the kiss with every passing second.

you had been touched and kissed before but nothing had ever felt like this and you were sure it was just because of the built of frustration of the argument and the yelled out confession but whatever it was, you were grateful it had happened because now Natasha had her tongue so deep in your mouth, while her hands groped over inch of you as to remember every curve.

when the woman’s lips left yours, you let out a whine of desperation because all you wanted was to feel her lips on yours again and now all she was doing was staring at you, her lips slightly red and swollen. “i’m sorry about not hearing you out and i will try to be more careful next time.” she spoke securely, her hands moving from the inside of your shirt to cup your cheeks once again.

“promise?” you asked softly causing the agent to nod before letting forward to crash her lips against yours once again but this time it had been so soft and gentle. you could feel the adoration pour from her lips, feeling much more passionate than before. the room had grown quiet the only thing that could be heard was the soft smacking of the kisses she had been trailing down your neck along with the sound of your heavy breathes.

it hadn’t taken long for the woman to drop down to her knees, her hands moving to part your thighs just enough for her to stay between them, hiking up the dress that you were wearing. a moan ripped from your throat when her soft lips pressed a gentle kiss to your panty claimed core causing your knees to buckle at the contact, grabbing the handle for support. her tongue run soothe stripes up and down just enough to make your mouth water and your eyes to squeeze shut.

it had been bliss but when natasha used her finger to brush aside your panties to kiss you directly in your core, you could hardly stand and then you heard a knock on the door causing natasha to tilt her head back but you were quick to give her a gentle push so she had been right where she started. you tried to ignore the knock but then another one sounded just as the girl pumped one of her fingers inside of you, her tongue working wonders on your clit.

another louder more desperate knock sounded and you both ignored that too, both far too caught up in each other. then a voice spoke up and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your lips parting to talk but it took a second for anything to come out and when it did, it had been so breathy and broke up that natasha couldn’t help the grin that tugged on her lips, as she curled her finger inside of you.

“g-go away.” you moaned out causing the person that you assumed to be clint groan out in disgust before he yelled to everyone else that he hated them for making him come up here to check on the both of you cause you weren’t killing each other the way that they thought.

you groaned out, knowing that the both of you would receive so much playful teasing but you hadn’t care much right now as Natasha had been so determine to help you ride out your blissful high.

#natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #the avengers #avengers #natasha romanoff

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annyeongffs · 4 years ago

Text

𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠 ༄ 𝑗.𝑠𝑏 (𝗺)

𝗑𝘁𝗮𝗴𝘀: 𝗉𝗐𝗉, 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉.

𝗑𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗌𝗎𝖻! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 + 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍(𝗂𝗌𝗁)𝖽𝗈𝗆! 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗂𝗇

𝗑𝘄𝗰: 7.2𝗸

𝗑𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿: 𝖽𝗈𝗆/𝗌𝗎𝖻 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗆𝖺𝗃𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗎𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒/𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀), 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝖻4 𝗎 𝗍𝖺𝗉!!), 𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽/𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗏𝗂𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗈𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗆 "𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅" 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾, 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽.

𝗑𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝘁.

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You were sitting on the couch with your latest novel in hand, legs crossed politely beneath your skirt, when you heard the front door open, signaling that your boyfriend is back from his all-day lecture.

You drop the book instantly and spring up from your seat to go greet Subin. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and places a chaste kiss on your forehead, letting his heavy bag slide off of his shoulder. You giggle when his nose nudges against your cheek, a soft whisper of “hi, Subin” leaving your lips once he presses a second kiss to your temple.

“Hi yourself, princess,” He says with a grin, “were you waiting for me?” You can’t help the pink flush that rises to your cheeks as you nod yes, his mere presence being enough to make your heart flutter. Subin swears you’re the cutest thing to ever grace the planet.

“I missed you today,” You admit with a tiny pout. You’d gone out to lunch with your best friend and her boyfriend Hanse, who also happened to be friends with Subin; but you’d felt like a third wheel without your own boyfriend at your side, even despite their best attempts to include you.

“I missed you too.” He tells you, at which you forcefully shake your head and insist, “but I missed you more.” You seal your statement by leaving your own kiss along his jaw, not being quite tall enough to reach his cheek.

Subin’s heart soars at how utterly adorable you are. “You’re too cute for your own good, baby. You’re gonna kill me one day if you keep this up.” He observes casually. You curl your fingers in the material of his shirt with a whine that you have no intention of killing him, your eyes lingering on how the fabric pulls tightly against his biceps.

Has he always been so muscular? You wonder to yourself, slowly slipping into your head. Maybe he’s been working out more... how come you’ve never noticed this before just now?

He doesn’t miss your distracted gaze, and he feels a smirk spreading when he puts two and two together to realize that maybe your blush isn’t quite as random as it seems. He doesn’t stop the smirk from growing when your small fingers begin to cautiously trace over where his sleeves end.

“You look pretty today.” He comments like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Which it is for him- hardly a day goes by without his mention of how beautiful you are- but even after all these months, it’s still new to you. Your stare drops to the floor as you take a sudden interest in your shoes.

“Thank you, Binnie.” You say quietly. You fidget with the hem of your (ahem, Subin’s) white sweater, and the image of you standing there in your little pink skirt and his oversized sweater is almost too much for him to handle.

You’ve been testing him so much lately, the length of your skirts shrinking while the collection of his shirts that you wear to bed has only been growing, and it’s gonna be the thing to end him. All it takes is one glance at your innocent smile and Subin knows he’s a goner; he’s never wanted to ruin anyone so badly in his life.

He steps into your personal space and tilts your head up with his fingers to make you return his gaze, the dark, nameless emotion swirling in his eyes jarring you. His touch is like an electric current, the simple gesture sending a trail of sparks zipping down your spine as you inhale sharply. He doesn’t say anything, only looking at you hungrily, longingly. You wanna touch him too- maybe weave your fingers through his hair or something- but before you get the chance, he brings your mouth to his harshly and gives you a kiss you never knew you needed.

He’s normally so gentle with you, his kisses soft and slow as if he’s afraid you’re made of glass. But this kiss is different for reasons you can’t explain. It’s bruising and fast and delicious, stirring up a sort of tension that you find to be entirely exhilarating. You do your best to keep up with the pace he’s set, holding back a yelp of surprise when you feel his tongue swipe teasingly across your lower lip.

You must do a pretty good job of staying with the speed of the sudden kiss, because when you eventually break apart, you aren’t the only one panting for breath. Your lips are tingling with the foreign buzz from so much pressure at once but it’s a buzz you don’t really mind. As a matter of fact, the whole room seems to be buzzing, the air alive with the rising tension as Subin’s grip tightens around your chin.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d guess that you’ve got something on your mind today. Am I right, y/n?” He asks cockily while raising one eyebrow.

He knows exactly what’s up, having seen the gleam in your eyes that hasn’t shown itself before and knowing for certain what it means. But if your widening eyes and confused expression are enough to go off of, then it’s safe to say that you don’t have a clue what’s happening.

All you know is that there’s something new bubbling in the pit of your stomach, some strange and unsettling weight building in your lower half that you haven’t ever been exposed to before. It isn’t unpleasant, per say; just new. The feeling reminds you of when you put a pot of water on the stove to boil- except rather than boiling, your body is merely simmering.

But it’s still more than enough to make you want to kiss Subin like that again.

Your blush returns with full force when you stutter out, “Well... th-there is one thing I’m, umm, thinking about...” You trail off, resisting the urge to hide your face in his chest. Subin stays put with his hand under your jaw and waits for you to tell him what you want like the good girl he knows you are.

“Can we do that again?” Comes your quiet plea, giving his shirt a slight tug to punctuate your request. “Please?” And who the hell would he be to refuse?

He brings you close again until your lips are brushing together, barely a millimeter away, and mumbles hotly, “Oh, baby, I can do so much more than that. Just you wait.” And then his mouth is back on yours, engulfing you in a heated kiss unlike any you’ve ever shared.

You let out a small sigh of content as he kisses you passionately, your body pressing against his to try to get as close as you can. Your arms wrap themselves around his broad shoulders and he takes the chance to deepen the kiss, tongue coming back out to tease you. You’ve never kissed him like this before and you don’t quite know what to do; you settle for just granting him access and allowing him to do as he pleases, ultimately pleasing you when he slides his other hand up and down the curve of your back, warm fingers dancing over your bare skin beneath the sweater and drawing out another little sigh from you.

“Jump,” He mumbles against your mouth. You pull back slightly in question, not sure you understand what he’s asking. His lips chase yours but you don’t respond immediately, continuing to stare at him with your head cocked to the side.

“I said jump, y/n. I know you can listen to me.” He says in a tone that, while soft, leaves no room for debate. You obey quickly and allow him to catch you as you wrap your legs around him, unable to contain your squeal when his hands firmly hook beneath your body, and your eyes are shut so tightly in your state of bliss that you hardly even register when Subin walks from the entryway into your bedroom, pausing only to lower you onto the bed.

He caresses your face in a sudden move of tenderness, looking straight into your heavy-lidded eyes to make sure he hasn’t hurt you. While he might be acting a little rougher than usual, the last thing he would ever want to do is hurt you, his precious angel.

His angel who was currently staring back at him with a blush so innocent it poked a dark side of his dominance, a side he always tries so hard to hide around you in fears of scaring you off. But the way you’re responding to his kisses tonight is telling him a different story- one that might let him take you to another chapter, if you’ll let him.

Subin’s thumb skims over your cheek as he keeps his arms braced on either side of you to hover over your little body. “Angel, if you want me to stop, say it now.” He says, his words hoarse with self restraint. He’s come close to losing his cool a few times before, but you’ve never tested him quite like this; and if he’s gonna be able to stop himself before he releases his grip on the dirty beast inside of him- the beast you bring to life with your sweet innocence- then he needs you to stop it now.

You blink twice and stare up at him with those doe eyes, mouth opening but finding you have nothing to say. He scans the way the sweater has started slipping off of your shoulders and inhales deeply before asking again, “I’m serious, y/n. If we’re gonna stop then you have to tell me right now or else I can’t promise to stay away from you.”

His gruff words flip a switch in you without warning. You’ve never gone any further than slow makeouts with Subin, the most risque thing you’ve done so far being the time you sat on his lap while kissing. But tonight, you discover that you want to push that boundary, even though you don’t know much of what’s beyond it.

All you really know is that you like the way these kisses feel. You like the bold way Subin’s hands dance around your shoulders, the new fire he’s started in your tummy.

You like not knowing what comes next.

“I... I don’t want you to stop, Binnie.” You answer in a whisper. Subin groans in response, the sentence making him harden instantly. He moves his hand slowly over the expanse of your neck, nails tracing the lines of your collarbone, and that beast inside of him is tugging at its chains when you inhale loudly and latch onto his wrist.

He rubs small circles into the skin at the base of your neck, admiring how easily it causes you to sigh. You don’t know what it is about them that always fascinate you. They’re just hands; but something about the powerful way his hand lingers on your skin makes you think you wanna feel it holding onto your neck.

“You have a thing for my hands, baby?” He teases with a smirk, “I can do whatever you want with them, put them wherever you want.” He uses his other hand to brush your hair out of your face so he can clearly see the lust building. “But you have to ask first.”

Your tiny surprised gasp turns into a breathy whimper when his fingers curl around your neck exactly how you hoped they would, the pressure delightful and salacious without cutting off your airflow.

Subin grins even wider. “You like that.” It’s not a question, it’s a factual statement. You nod anyways, your weak hands not trying at all to pull him off of you. “You look so pretty like this, angel. Wearing my hand like it’s a necklace.” He muses out loud. His cocky tone sends a warm feeling rushing through your abdomen, making your eyes flutter shut momentarily as you bask in how perfect his hold on you is. You never thought having his hand around your throat would be so incredible, would feel so right.

Upon seeing your eyes closing, he leans down closer to your ear, fully intending to make you even more bothered without lifting his hand from your throat.

“You like it when I talk dirty too, hmm?” He adds. “I’m not surprised. Good girls like you probably love hearing what you make people wanna do to you.” And you lose all power to resist your boyfriend’s arousing charm when he calls you that, calls you a good girl. You decide you always wanna be good for him if you’re rewarded in ways like this.

“Binnie, I-” You start timidly, but one quick squeeze to your neck has you stopping before you ask him to call you that again. “No baby, use my whole name. I wanna hear you moaning my name when I give you the pleasure you deserve tonight.” Another hot feeling begins to pool in places you’ve never felt heat pooling in before, arousal flooding you at his suggestiveness.

And because you want to stay well-behaved for him, to see how far being good will get you, you bite your swollen lip and nod your head. “Subin, can you say it again?” You beg shyly, cheeks reddening. Subin observes the way you’ve begun to breathe a little heavier and considers how obedient you’re being so far.

“Say what?”

You gulp down your embarrassment. “G-Good girl. Call me that again, please.” You sound desperate even to your own ears, but it’s a sound that beckons his dominant side into coming out to play. He’s waited far too long to ruin his innocent little angel to hold himself back.

His head drops to litter kisses around the skin not covered by his hand, seeking out the one spot that makes you whine the loudest. He finds it and nips lightly, soothing the unexpected yet not unwelcome sting over with his tongue. Your sighs grow more and more frequent as he sucks multiple hickies along your collarbone, thighs rubbing together when he licks a tantalizingly slow, seductive stripe along the entire outline of it.

He reluctantly drops his grip to replace it with his mouth, feverishly marking up your neck while he busies himself with sliding the sweater another inch off your shoulders to give him more room. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?” He murmurs into your skin, “Already so needy for me when we’ve barely even started. My good girl, all wet and eager. I’ll give you what you want, baby, I’ll give you whatever you want if you tell me to. Use your words for me.”

It’s these words, hurried and half-muffled by the way his mouth presses against you, that begin to unravel the strings laced up inside your core. You can feel yourself falling apart, succumbing to Subin’s obvious control, letting your desire to feel everything he promises to make you feel cloud out any doubt in your mind. You wanted Jung Subin, and even if it killed you to ask for it, you wanted him now.

The only problem is that you don’t know what to ask for.

“I want you, Subin.” You inform him with a slight wobble in your voice, “I want to feel more... please.” You add the please at the end in hopes that it might cause him to suck a little harder at your neck, but your pleading instead makes him pull off of you and gaze down at the mess he’s made of his beautiful girlfriend.

“You want more?” He prompts you, “What do you mean by more? You wanna be choked some more? Is that it, angel?” As appealing as that is, you shake your head meekly, wiggling noticeably underneath him.

“I wanna feel you.” You say with crimson stained cheeks.

Subin takes his hand and lightly caresses your hickey-covered jaw, unable to resist the temptation to slip two fingers into your wet mouth. You suck on them the moment his fingers are there, unsure of what possibly made you do it but liking the results nonetheless, especially when he curses under his breath at how fucking hot you look in this position. You swirl your tongue around them experimentally and it sends him into another world, making him remove his fingers hastily before he envisions how well you’d suck his dick.

You whine at the loss of contact and Subin chuckles darkly, not wiping off his fingers. “Where do you wanna feel me?” He asks you in a sultry voice. His hand slides beneath the sweater easily and finds its way to your chest, where he runs his large palms over the white lace bra you wore under it. “Did you want to feel me here?” He continues. You’re too flustered to speak when he playfully snaps at your bra strap before moving down lower.

Your breath hitches audibly when Subin ghosts over your stomach, descending even lower, hand cupping cautiously around the place where you needed him the most. “Or maybe... you wanna feel me here.” He remarks, “Is this where you want me, princess? Want me playing between your pretty thighs, tasting what no one has ever touched before?” His dirty comments are sending stars into your vision.

He’s relentless in his teasing, fingers edging around your innocent white panties under the cute skirt he can’t wait to push up later. “Want to see my head between your legs as I eat you out, make you sigh and whine until you can’t stand it anymore? Wanna fuck yourself senseless on my tongue? Do you want that, y/n?” You can't control the moan that leaves you at his words, hips unintentionally rising off of the bed to push yourself against his body. He hisses at your actions and lifts the band to your underwear, the cool air hitting your core making you whine. The sensation of his finger tracing your pussy gently is unlike anything else on the planet.

“Yes,” You call desperately when he softly rubs against you, the friction giving you only the tiniest bit of respite from the overwhelming heat spreading through you, “Subin, please.”

“Please what? Be a good girl and tell me, baby. I told you to use your words.” He instructs as he teases your core with his hand.

You can’t take it anymore. “Please give me m-more,” You gasp out despite your horrible embarrassment, “Make m-me feel all the things you just said you would. I-I wanna feel you... between my legs.” You stutter furiously, but it’s all Subin needs to push his finger into your pussy, groaning at the same time you let out a rather shaky sigh.

“Fuck, princess,” He curses when he feels how warm and tight you are. “You’re absolutely fucking perfect, you know? You take my fingers so well, you dirty girl. You’re behaving so good for me tonight.” He praises you as he moves his fingers in a steady rhythm, trying to go slow so he won’t hurt you even though every bone in his body is screaming to fuck you into next week with his hands alone.

But all efforts of slow are abandoned the second you latch onto his neck and begin sucking, attempting to make him feel half as good as you do right now as you press little kisses to his skin. Subin’s pace quickens while you pepper open-mouthed lovebites on his throat, your small wrist tugging at his shirt to signal that you want it off. You don’t know what’s gotten into you- you have a nearly carnal desire to run your hands along as much of his skin as you can, to rake your nails down the abs you’ve only seen once or twice at the beach.

He gets the hint and strips the shirt off of himself without removing his fingers from your pussy, tossing the garment somewhere before leaning back down to loom over your writhing figure. Your hands explore his naked chest with an enthusiasm that you didn’t know you possessed, appreciating his warm skin with little kisses and scratches as he continues to pleasure you at an increasing rate.

“Fucking hell, y/n,” He says with his brows furrowed, “how long have you been so desperate for my touch? How long have you felt this needy, this wet?” He coos mockingly, speeding up as your back begins to arch slightly, pushing you even further into him. “Your body is practically begging to get fucked, baby. Look at you, whining so prettily for me while your pussy tries to suck my fingers in. You like fucking yourself against my hands?”

A loud cry escapes your lips at his downright nasty words. They’re obscene and crude and filthy; and you love it.

“M-Mouth,” You sigh pathetically as you grip his broad shoulders for dear life. “I wanna feel y-your mouth, Subin, wanna feel your mouth down- down there.”

And because you asked so nicely, Subin smirks and slides his slick-covered fingers out of you, making you flush shyly when he raises them to his lips and tastes your essence. He pins you to the bed with just his heated stare, head spinning at how much he’s gonna taint you tonight.

“You might wanna hold onto the sheets, princess,” He warns as he sinks to kneel in front of your needy core, “because I don’t know if I can be gentle after tasting how fucking sweet you are for me.” You moan again at the firm kiss he places on your inner thigh. He’s so close to where you want to feel him; so close to bringing you to a high you’ve never even dared to dream of before.

He doesn’t dive in until he’s positive you want him to. Your little sighs of content turn into cries of his name the second his tongue is flicking at your core, sucking skillfully while his fingers return to the scene to slowly drag along your walls. You find yourself heeding his warning and bunching up the sheets in your fists to keep yourself from screaming out at how utterly good his tongue feels against your folds.

“Subin, fuck,” You sigh weakly, unable to handle the image of his head between your thighs, “I-It feels so good, Subin, so good.”

“Yeah?” He replies, and the vibrations against your sensitive pussy almost send you careening over the edge, hurtling into the clouds of complete ecstasy. But before you get the chance, Subin once more removes his fingers, causing you to whine for him. You were almost there, almost ready to have your very first orgasm.

“Why did you stop-” Your words are cut off when he resumes fucking you with his mouth, turning your protests into mewls of how good everything feels.

“You’re gonna come on my tongue, y/n” He demands, his dominant tone making you meet his eyes, “You’re gonna fall apart in my mouth and I better hear you saying my name as you do. Got it angel?” He leaves no room for argument, and as soon as you nod your head yes, he’s back to eating you out like a champ, head moving to reach every little spot that drives you wild.

You’re within seconds of falling apart as he guides you to your high with his tongue- but the single thing that pushes you over the edge is his hot whispered praise of “good girl.”

You come undone with a cry louder than any of your previous noises, mouth repeating his name like it’s the only word you know as your vision momentarily blanks. You’re on top of the fucking world- your head is spinning like a top but you swear you’ve never felt so good before in your entire life, never felt like you’re both falling and flying at the same time. Subin’s tongue guides you through your high, cock fully hard at your lust filled moans of his name as you ride out on cloud nine.

He only detaches his mouth when you squirm away form him, panting and breathlessly relaxing your hold on the sheets.

Your blush is practically painted on your face at this point, fully aware of the way your panties are still shoved to the side and the skin still exposed by your skirt. You pull Subin back from his place between your legs and press soft kisses to his bare chest to wordlessly express your thanks.

Subin, meanwhile, is fighting hard to keep you from noticing his raging hard-on. His only focus tonight was you: your pleasure and your cries and your orgasm, his only goal being to bring you the feelings your sweet innocent mind hadn’t dreamt of before.

But now that he’s had a glimpse of how perfectly good you are for him in bed, he can’t help but wonder how good you’d feel under him, how well you’d take his cock as you sigh out his name. He can’t rid himself of the mental image no matter how hard he tries to, grounding himself in the sweet kisses you’re spreading on his chest. He’s got to snap out of this; he has to keep being gentle-

“Subin,” You mumble into his skin, “Did that- did you feel good, too?” As amazing as he made you feel, you want to know that he’s satisfied too, to know if he enjoyed it as much as you did. It wouldn’t seem fair to you if he did all the work with nothing in it for himself.

Subin gulps, nervous for the first time tonight. “Yes, princess. I loved every second of it. You were so good for me.” He praises you, and you can’t believe how easily his praise stirs up another fire inside you, making you feel like you’re ready for even more.

“I can keep being good for you,” You tell him in a modest whisper. “I can keep being your... your good girl.” You offer, the new part of you he’s unlocked making you bold enough to suggest that maybe, just maybe, you wanna go further with him tonight.

Subin opens his mouth to protest and tell you that you don’t need to do that, that you’ve done more than enough for one night. He even tries to persuade you to put on some pajamas and get ready for sleep; but you aren’t having it.

You cut off his rambling with a kiss so wanton that he can hardly believe you had the guts to do it, but he’s far from complaining as he hungrily accepts everything you have to give him, feeling how eager you are to please him.

His precious girl, so needy and obedient, wanting to please him like he’s just pleased you. Sadly for Subin, that’s a thought for another time, because he knows he won’t last long at all if he starts fantasizing about your mouth on his cock. Instead he settles for another fantasy, the one that brings you both pleasure.

He’s discovered tonight that you seriously get off on hearing his thoughts, hearing about the dirty things you plant in his head, and now is as good a time as ever to talk you through one more.

But he has to make sure you want it first. He’s already taken you so far- he won’t let it go any further until he’s absolutely positive that you won’t regret giving him more.

He ends the kiss and stares straight into your eyes, the gesture so meaningful and loving that your heart melts a little bit. He’s always taking care of you, always putting you first. You wish he’d let you put him first for once- but the warmth lingering in your core says maybe you’ll still get the chance to.

“Y/n, you know you can always stop.” Subin says seriously. “You don’t need to do anything else if you don’t wanna. Please don’t push yourself into doing something if you aren’t ready for it.” He kisses your cheeks, your nose, and lightly pecks your lips. “I would never want you to go too far to please me, baby. I’m always satisfied just to be in your heart, and I... I don’t need to be anywhere else, angel. I promise.”

His confession is laced with so much love that it brings tears to your eyes. His words are sincere, the proof in his statement made obvious by the adoring gaze he wears. You’ve never felt so safe- never felt so wanted, so secure. You don’t think you can love anyone else the way you love Subin.

And it’s this display of love, this moment of sweet vulnerability, that makes you more sure of yourself than ever before. You’re ready for what comes next- you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you wanna give him your all. You wanna give him every little piece of you, body and heart.

“I love you so much, Binnie.” You say with a smile. He’s so whipped for you that he doesn’t bother to comment on the nickname.

“I love you, and... I know I’m ready. I don’t want to stop tonight, please. I want you to make me yours.” You add.

Subin abandons any reservations about going further the moment the words are out of your mouth, seeing clearly the trust and desire that shines in your eyes. He nods and gently lays you back down, sensing zero fear from you as he slides the sweater off of your body.

He can’t believe how lucky he is. “You’re gorgeous, y/n, fucking gorgeous,” He worships with an awestruck look on his face, wiping away all of your insecurities, “every inch of you is perfect baby.”

And with that, he slides off your skirt, leaving only a thin layer of clothing between your skin and his.

Your hands itch to grab for his belt, but as you begin to reach out, Subin tsks and lightly swats your hands away. “Let me do that y/n. Just relax for me, yeah? Lay there and keep on looking like a fucking angel, that shouldn’t be a problem for you.” He says in a lower voice- you whine when you realize he’s back to being bedroom Subin.

He removes everything in one swift motion, and you fail to hold back the loud gasp at how hard he is. You’ve never really seen a dick before, never wondered about it or thought about it, but seeing Subin’s cock standing decidedly at attention makes you wish you knew more. You can’t stop staring at how intimidating it looks- does it hurt him that it’s so obviously hard? Will you be able to feel the veiny ridges along it as it drags against your walls? Or for that matter... will you even know what to do with yourself when it’s inside you?

Subin hums at your innocent surprise, memorizing the way your head tilts to the side while you study his cock. He comes back into your personal space to run his hands along your sides, giving you no warning before he tugs your panties off and rubs you without any barriers. You whine again, back arching off of the pillows to push your bodies together.

His body pins you against the bed, keeping you right where he wants you- but you have other ideas. Ideas that involve straddling his lap and seeing what would happen if he fucked up into you after you’ve been lying down for so long.

You look up at him with the prettiest pout you can muster. “I wanna... wanna get on top. C-can I please get on top, Subin? Please?” You beg him with stars in your eyes. Subin is so fucking whipped for your dirty request that he allows it, marveling in what a good girl his y/n is. He leads you into another brutal kiss, and you feel the knot reforming itself in your stomach when you break away with a strand of saliva still tethering your lips together. It’d be nothing short of nasty if it wasn’t with him.

“Climb aboard, baby.” He beckons you, and you blush at the mere thought of sinking yourself down on him.

He moves so you’re straddling his lap with his back against the headboard, bare pussy still slick from your orgasm. You grind down on his thigh when his hand makes its way into your hair, wrapping the strands around his fist and tugging just ever-so-slightly, enough to give you a taste of the stinging sensation on your scalp. You gasp, not expecting to like the feeling as much as you do, and it provokes Subin to tug a little harder, eventually drawing out a moan.

“You gonna ride me, princess, or do wanna keep fucking my thigh?” He coaxes. Your blush deepens but you stop rubbing against his leg anyways, not totally coherent when you moan out that yes, you’re gonna ride him.

“I’ll be gentle.” He murmurs suddenly, cupping your face with one hand so he can tenderly gaze at you. You nod and hover over him, bracing yourself for the initial pain you’ve heard every girl has on their first time, and Subin frowns at how your nose scrunches up unhappily.

“Baby, don’t think too hard.” He persuades you to loosen up, knowing you’ll hurt more if you’re tense. “I’ll talk you through every step of the way if you want. You gotta relax for me though, okay? You’ll feel better if you let yourself go. I’m right here, love.” His reassurance is the final push you needed to unclench your muscles, mind going completely empty as you slowly, slowly begin to lower yourself onto him.

And oh fuck did it burn.

You cry out at the uncomfortable sensation, feeling your core stretch to accommodate his length. Subin doesn’t dare move a millimeter, allowing you to have control of your pace since he knows your little body has never done this before, never had to adjust to this. You pause your movement to let yourself get used to the burn for a second when he’s halfway inside, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you hang on for dear life.

“It stings, Subin.” You whine, “Is- is it supposed to sting?”

He shushes you affectionately, kissing your temple. “Shh, angel, I know it hurts. It’ll go away real soon. I promise it will.” He consoles in a soft voice. You nod and continue to sink down, biting your lip to keep from complaining again when he’s fully entered you, the intense burn making you think something’s just snapped inside of you.

Subin stays totally still as you stop again to adjust to the stretch. He oh so desperately wants to buck up into you, wants to drive himself into your pussy that he swears must’ve been made for him; but he restrains himself because he doesn’t want to hurt you, doesn’t want to bring you any kind of pain. So he waits patiently until you start moving.

You move your hips experimentally, whining sharply at the burn but finding that the more you do so, the less it stings. Subin groans lowly when you find a steady, slow pace, lifting yourself up and down- and all at once, the stinging turns into pleasure, an earth-shattering sensation that sets every nerve ending on fire with a delicious heat.

The pain dissipates entirely. Subin sees the change in your expression, your furrowed brows raising and your mouth opening as you let out an airy sigh that carries no hint of discomfort. Your walls suck him in like a wet vice, warm and tight and such a perfect fit that he thinks he could be in danger of cumming first, solely because of how amazing you feel.

“S-Subin,” You call out his name in a breathless moan. “Fuck, Binnie, I feel so- so good.” You sigh again in sheer bliss, and your eyes threaten to roll back into your head.

“How good, y/n?” He asks, making your moans increase rapidly in volume when he begins to meet your hips with slow thrusts of his own. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

You babble incoherently as you attempt to describe the otherworldly pleasure that shoots through every inch of your body like a forest fire. “So good, Subin, so full, so much...” You can’t finish your sentence as a particularly deep thrust causes you to cry out once more. “Oh my god, Subin!”

A self-satisfied smirk rests on his lips when he hears you gasping for breath, unable to keep yourself together as he fucks into you at a quicker pace. “That’s it, y/n. I’m gonna give you the best fucking night of your life tonight. You’ve been such a good girl for me, so obedient. Good girls deserve to come, yeah?”

His question is rhetorical but you answer anyways, a strangled yes escaping you when he brings his hand back up to loosely grip your throat. The knot is pulling tighter and tighter inside of you, feeling like a rubber band being stretched out and it’s only a matter of minutes before you break.

Subin could come right then and there when he sees your fucked-out expression as he takes you with his hand on your neck, a steady mantra of his name leaving your mouth over and over. But he’s determined to make you come first- good thing he knows your weaknesses.

“You’re close, baby, I can feel it,” He begins to talk dirty to you once again and prides himself on the way your pussy clenches around him, “I can feel how close you are to losing it, to cumming on my cock. You think you can do that for me, y/n? Will you fall apart on my cock like my good little princess?”

You nod frantically as you chase the high that waits for you, the high Subin is providing with his nasty mouth and his heavenly thrusts. Your hips bounce in an irregular pace as you feel it approaching, a wave of pleasure about to crash over you, about to send you into a state of euphoria.

“Please, Subin, please,” You plead as his hold tightens on your throat, “I- I wanna come on your cock, Binnie, please make me c-come!”

Subin growls at your high pitched begging and sets the pace at a breakneck speed, seconds away from destroying you. “Your wish is my command, princess.” He says hotly.

It takes three more moans of “oh my god” for you to reach your high, officially falling apart when Subin whispers in your ear as he thrusts up into you, “Come for me, y/n.”

And you obey easily, screaming louder than you have all night as you lose yourself in the feeling of spinning out in a haze of pleasure. You’ve never felt anything as fucking good as this- not in a million years.

Subin can’t wait another second before he pulls out quickly, cutting it really close as your orgasm causes him to lose all control and comes over your tummy, covering you in his seed; thankfully, you’re too blissed out to give a damn about the sticky mess, the both of you panting like you’ve just run a marathon as you collapse onto your sides with eyes shut tightly.

You both wind down with your chests heaving, unsure of how many minutes pass by (at least four, but you guess it’s more than that) until Subin turns to face you with a warm grin.

“How was it, princess?” He asks with just the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks.

You smile back at him, your fingers weaving with his and pressing a kiss into his knuckles. “I loved it, Binnie, every bit of it.” You admit softly, your face taking on a glow of sheer happiness that looks so damn sexy on an angel like you. Subin can’t help pulling your head towards his to give you a long, sweet kiss, this one slow and unhurried as you bask in the intimacy of just being together.

“I love you y/n.” He murmurs, and you smile against his lips as you tell him you love him more.

You stay curled up like that for a few moments until Subin remembers what a mess he’s left on your tummy, the pink flush spreading when he moves to get up from the bed. You whine, thinking he’s leaving, but he shushes you and strokes your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I’m just gonna get you cleaned up, baby, I’ll be right back.” He promises. You let his hand go, eyes sliding shut as you begin to feel exhaustion setting in. He gets up and walks to the bathroom to get a wet rag, still feeling dazed from the wild ride he never expected to happen tonight, and comes back to dab at your stomach. You wiggle at the tickling sensation, laughing quietly when Subin purposefully blows cold air on your skin just to be funny.

He grabs a t-shirt once he’s finished cleaning you up, coaxing your tired body into sitting up for a few seconds so he can tug it on you before letting you flop back down. You lay there on your back, eyes shutting again, and Subin can’t stand how cute and sweet you look all swaddled in his clothes with your cheeks glowing brightly. You’re perfect, he thinks to himself as he slides on some pajama pants, absolutely freaking perfect.

He manages to get you underneath the covers and turns out the light before he slips into bed with you, mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of your chest. He can hardly believe that you’re asleep so quickly; but your little sighs give you away, confirming that you have, indeed, drifted off into dreamland.

Subin smiles to himself and kisses your cheek lovingly as he cradles you in his arms.

“Sleep well, princess.” He whispers softly, “You deserve it.”

𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗵, 2021. 𝗻𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗯𝗲 𝘂𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 @𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖿𝖿𝗌; 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱. 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗒! -𝗸𝘆𝗹𝗮

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years ago

Text

Tattletale | (dark)stepbrother!Sam Wilson x reader

summary: your step-brother was kind enough to let you stay at his apartment just off-campus when you began your freshman year of college where he was a senior. unfortunately, his kindness ran out when he learned about your secret side-hustle.

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut!! (noncon/heavy dubcon and stepcest, they’re not biologically related but were raised from adolescence as siblings), facefucking, slapping, choking, degradation, coercion, DP (with a toy), anal play, possessive behavior, unprotected creampie, lots of crying/implied dacryphilia

this is a dark fic containing triggering topics, please do not read if this would be triggering for upsetting for you in any way.

Your step-brother (and roommate… and technically your landlord) wasn’t usually home when you got back from your Econ class, so you jumped a bit when you saw him nursing a beer in your shared living room; apparently, he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Sammy,” you greeted sheepishly, suddenly feeling self-conscious when his eyes raked over your body— it was hot out, so you just had on a tank top and cut-off shorts, but now you wish you’d covered up more.

“Hey,” he nodded back, setting the beer down and leaning back on the couch, “you got time to talk for a minute?”

His tone made you a little nervous, but his casual body language set you at ease. He probably just wanted to ask if you could stay somewhere else over the weekend so he could have a girl over, or maybe he needed your help with one of his more difficult assignments— though frankly, you probably couldn’t help much with a senior-level project. “Sure,” you shrugged, setting your backpack down and slipping off your shoes to join him on the couch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing, really, I just feel like we don’t talk as much as we used to,” he explained with a little sigh. Something about the way he glanced to the side for a moment made you wonder if he was being completely transparent. “Remember when we were younger and we talked all the time? Or when I moved away to start here and we called every day? I miss that…”

You smiled a little, moving closer on the couch to rest your hand on his. “Me too,” you admitted. “I just figured you saw me as your annoying little sister.”

“I do,” he laughed, “but, you know, we used to be really close! You used to tell me everything. And now… now I don’t think you tell me everything.”

Your suspicion that this was more directed than he let on was growing, but you wanted to be close again, too, so you let it continue. “Well, we’re older now so it’s not quite the same…”

“I guess it’s normal for siblings to grow apart when they’re adults, but, I don’t know… I guess I just didn’t see it coming with us. And now that I’m letting you live here I thought it would be like old times; to be honest, that was part of why I had you move in in the first place.”

Just as you started to shift away, he flipped his hand and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away. “Sammy,” you whispered in shock, leaning back as much as you could even as he moved in closer.

“I think it’s the least you can do to be honest with me, sis,” he hissed.

“I— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you protested, your gut sinking in fear of being reprimanded by him. He was so friendly 99% of the time, but you were still terrified of those few memories you had of him getting angry with you. Disappointing him was one of your greatest fears.

Sam laughed, but he didn’t exactly seem amused. “Stop playing dumb, honey, I think you know what this is about.”

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, your heart dropping further when he reached for his phone.

“Got a text from Steve today,” he explained as he unlocked it. “Wanna guess what it was?”

You swallowed dryly, more sure than ever that it was what you dreaded most. “I don’t know, Sam…”

“I’ll give you a hint,” he grimaced, reading something from the screen. “Kinky virgin horny for cock, 18, freshman at NYU.”

You looked away but he instantly grabbed your face and turned you to look at him. “You know, I let you live here while you were in college so you could get an education.�� Not be a fucking slut. Did you think I wouldn’t find your OnlyFans? Steve found it first, god knows what he did with these pictures before he sent them to me. Is this what you wanted? Any guy— even a guy we know— to get off to these pictures?”

Your shoulders slumped and your chest deflated as you started to cry. “I’m s-so sorry, Sammy—”

“Don’t call me that,” he sneered. “How stupid are you? Did you think these would stay private? Guys trade these all the time, they’re never secret for long. How long have you been doing this, huh? Must’ve been a while considering the sheer magnitude of content. Looks like your first post was on your 18th birthday— Jesus fucking Christ, you couldn’t wait a minute could you? I was there that day… when did you sneak off to take this little number, huh?”

You didn’t want to look as he turned the phone to you, but his hand tight around your wrist was a reminder not to struggle too hard. You remembered taking the photo, and it had been during your party. The idea of how wrong it would be to strip down in your parent’s bathroom to snap a picture in the mirror had only been more encouraging at the time. For some reason you hadn’t considered that someone would find it; you cringed at the idea that Steve saw you entirely nude, let alone your brother. It was humiliating.

“And what about this one, huh? How fucking slutty are you?” he spat, pulling up another picture and shoving the phone in your face as you were confronted with the image of you on your bed with your legs spread, fingers toying with your clit. “You really don’t leave anything to the imagination.”

“Sam, I didn’t— you weren’t supposed to—”

“Just stop talking. I can barely look at you right now,” he shook his head. “This stuff is seriously depraved, sis. The idea of all these guys drooling all over my little sister… and you actually encouraged them, the fuck is wrong with you?”

Tears poured down your face, and you felt like the anger radiating off of him would burn your skin somehow.

“And don’t give me some stupid fucking sob story about how you’re doing this to pay for school when I know damn well that mom and dad pay for your classes and I pay your fucking rent. You didn’t do it for money; you did it for fun. You did it ‘cause you’re a shameless fucking slut.”

“‘M not,” you denied, “Sam, really— I’m still a virgin, I don’t— you know I don’t do that.”

“You just fantasize about it. And chat with strangers online about it. And make videos going on and on about how bad you wanna get fucked.”

You shuddered as you realized: “You watched one of my videos?”

He grinned and pulled you closer. “Baby… I watched all of them.”

Completely at a loss for words, you silently tried to squirm away only for him to wrap his other arm around you and pull you closer, ignoring your sobs of fear and confusion.

“You’re actually sorta talented, for a dumb little virgin who had no idea what she’s getting herself into,” he purred against your ear, starting to push up your tank top.

“N-no,” you whimpered, “Sam, stop— I’m sorry. I’ll delete the account, I’m sorry.”

“Too late for apologies, little sis,” he cooed, “it’s not just the account. It’s that you made those posts from my apartment, you took those pictures in the room that I gave you. Not to mention the way you walk around in these tight clothes, teasing me just because you can. This goes way deeper than a few dirty pictures, sweetheart, and you know it.”

When you tried to wriggle away again, he seemed to exert nearly no effort at all to be able to spin you around and pull you down into his lap, where the shape of his hard cock pressing against your ass was obvious. “Sam, s-stop, this isn’t funny.”

“Damn right it isn’t funny, I’m dead fucking serious,” he growled against your ear. “What was it that you said in your most recent video, the one where you were wearing a collar and using that gaudy pink vibe on your clit? ‘I need your cock to ruin my hole, daddy’... am I remembering that right?”

Hesitantly, you nodded, and he laughed darkly against your ear as he pulled your hips into his.

“Say it, then. Like you said it in the video.”

“Sam, no—”

“No?” he repeated incredulously. “You can’t say no to me, honey. Cause if you do, I’m gonna send all these pictures and videos to mom and dad, tell them all about how their precious little angel is selling her ass on the Internet with the phone they pay for and the laptop they bought. What are they gonna say to that? Think they’ll take you back after that, let you stay with them when I kick you out? As if. So unless you think one of these creeps online is gonna give you a place to stay, seems like I’m your only option.”

You choked on a sob as you cried harder, hating that he was right.

“So you need to start doing what you’re told, or you’re gonna end up doing a lot worse with someone much less generous than me, got it?”

Terrified of him but unable to imagine the alternative, you nodded.

“Then. Fucking. Say it.”

“I…” you began, sounding weak and weepy compared to the original video you were quoting, “I need your cock… to ruin my hole… daddy.”

“Eh, needs improvement but it’s a start,” he shrugged, throwing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you. When you tried to protest, or at least turn around to face him, he slapped your ass harshly and it stung even through the denim shorts. “I have needs too, sis. Can’t hardly get any when you’re here all damn day being a fucking cockblock. And frankly, since you started dressing like this and acting like a whore, I haven’t even been able to think about anybody else… can’t get hard for anyone but my slutty little sister.”

He leaned down to press his body against yours, pinning you against the cool leather by your shoulders.

“Steve told me about your account weeks ago, babe… I’ve been getting off to your cute little pictures ever since.”

It made you wince, but it made him laugh. Shame and fear and disgust swirled in your gut and made you nauseous, his grip on you tight enough to leave a bruise as he dug his fingertips into your skin. When he sat back up, he started pulling at your jean shorts roughly, ripping them slightly as he shoved them down to your thighs.

“Wow, look at this pretty little ass,” he groaned. “A thousand guys have seen it, but it’s better in person.” He slapped you again on either cheek, hard enough to make you yelp. “What’s the matter, sis, I thought you liked being spanked? You talk about it all the time. You talk about how you want me to spank you raw and leave marks all over your body, hurt you and break you and claim you.”

“I— I wasn’t talking about you,” you defended, remembering how you always addressed the viewer when dirty talking in your videos, but keeping it generic enough that any guy could imagine it was him.

“Then who did you think about when you got off? Who was it that got you wet for your videos?” he pressed. “Because you’re wet right now… and I’m the only one here.”

You shook your head, you tried to speak to deny it, but words escaped you as he flipped you around and hovered above your face.

“Do you get wet for anybody, baby, is that it? Will you spread your legs for any cock? Or do you just have a special place in your cunt for your big brother?”

Your stunned silence earned you a slap to the face, sending your head spinning to the side as your cheek stung and burned. Just as the heat of the impact really started to get to you, he hit you on the other side, and again, until you finally gave him an answer: “You!” you yelped suddenly. “You, Sam, just you!”

He laughed a little, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpected, dominating kiss. It was awkward and sloppy, exactly the sort of kiss one would expect when it was forced; just as passionless and confused on your end as a kiss to your step-sibling should be. But he moaned against you and forced his tongue deeper into your mouth, hands coming down to grope your tits through your tank top and bra. Trying to push him away was beyond useless, and he slapped you again without even breaking his lips away from yours. Soon he was reaching to pull down your top— no, wait, he was tearing through it, and your bra snapped like a rubber band against his strength. When he grabbed your breasts again, without any clothing in the way this time, your nipples were hard and sensitive between his fingers; it was so obvious that he smiled into the kiss, biting your lip playfully. “Wow, you really do like this. Your step brother’s forcing himself on you and you’re such a whore that you’re actually into it.”

He slapped your breast, just hard enough to sting, and you cried out; he did it again and your back arched.

“Yeah, I knew you just needed to be put in your place, little sis. Just needed me to fix your attitude, that’s all.” He wrapped his hand around your neck, not squeezing enough to cut off airflow but obviously threatening it, before leaning down to whisper in your ear: “get on the ground, on your knees.”

Even for what was left of your virginal innocence, you knew what he wanted. Wordlessly, your only sounds the weak little sobs that shook your chest, you slipped out from beneath him and onto the floor by the couch. He shifted to sit in front of you with wide legs, thick thighs spread as he looked down at you with an expression of anticipation.

“Get on with it, honey, I know you know how. Seen you choke on your toys a thousand times.”

After taking a stabilizing breath to cope with what was happening, shivering from the cold air on your exposed upper half, you sat up slightly and reached for his belt. You’d felt it pressed against you before, but now you could see the shape of his cock threatening to burst out of his jeans, so thick and long that you were confident he heard the little gasp you let out. And yet, you knew you had to trek forward, so you began to unclasp his belt before unzipping his fly. He lifted his hips to help you pull his pants and boxers down, but other than that he was too busy stroking the side of your face with his fingers in a move much too delicate for the situation. You stopped breathing for a second when you saw the size of him, his cock bouncing up when you released it to slap against his stomach.

“Sam, I can’t,” you sighed, starting to back away, “I’ve never— it won’t fit.”

“Nah, baby, it’s okay,” he encouraged gently, pulling you closer, “you can take it just fine. Just open your mouth, sis…”

He guided the tip of his cock between your lips, still swollen from his bruising kiss, and you whimpered when you felt his warm skin against your tongue, tasting the salty pre-cum that leaked out slow and steady.

“Yeah, just like that, now go ahead and suck on me,” he instructed, groaning when you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks, using your tongue to tease the slit like you’d read online was a good thing to do. He chuckled and bucked up into you, holding your head as he started to pump his hips and slowly fill your mouth to the brim. “See, you can do it— now choke on it.”

When he pushed in until you gagged, your first instinct was to push on his thighs and try to get away for air, but he held you down as he hissed through his teeth.

“I know you can take all of me in your throat if you just stop fucking fighting,” he hissed, slapping you one more time which caused your throat to open up in shock— and it was just enough for him to shove in deeper, groaning at the feeling. “Yeah, that’s it… fuck…” he sighed, moving his hips faster. The struggle for air made your eyes water (although you hadn’t really had much of a chance to stop crying in the first place) as your grip on his thighs tightened. “I bet your pussy is getting so wet for me right now,” he chuckled, “I bet you love choking on my cock, huh?”

You tried to shake your head but you couldn’t really move much; he pulled you off of his length by your hair, just in time to give you a much-needed sputtering gasp for air.

“Fuck, I’d love to fill that pretty throat with my come,” he smiled— a sinister sort of grin that made you shudder as you looked up with him, feeling spit and pre-cum on your lips and chin— “but I know what you want. Since you’ve spent all year begging to lose your virginity on the internet, I figure I’ll be nice and give you what you’ve been asking for.”

Before you could even begin to consider a response to that, he hoisted you up and threw you back onto the couch, spreading your legs as you looked away in shame.

“Yep, I was right, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he laughed. “You nasty little slut, are you actually getting off on this? Wow.”

A renewed sense of ‘dear god this cannot happen’ shot through you as he leaned down and slid his cock over your folds, teasing your clit with his swollen head. “Sam, stop, please…”

“I’m kind of getting tired of you begging,” he hissed as he leaned down, glaring right into your eyes as you froze beneath him. “I’m obviously not going to stop,” he explained as his hand slipped around your throat, “you dumb fucking bitch.”

Your ability to fight back was taken with your opportunity to breathe, his strong fingers cutting off blood flow to your head quickly as he clamped down on your neck. Instantly you clawed at his hand, your vision starting to go a little spotty, and he laughed at you coldly before letting go. And when he finally did, his hand moved instead to hold both your wrists above your head while the other guided his cock into your pulsing entrance. When he pushed his hips forward, the air was punched from your lungs as your back arched, a sharp pain reverberating over your body from the stretch of him inside you.

“Fuck!” he groaned, pushing in deeper, slow but consistent. “You’re tight, baby, you really did need a cock to ruin this hole, huh? Fuck, ‘m gonna, just hold still…”

But how could you hold still, when every instinct had you moving your hips to try to push his cock out, your hands tightening into fists as they tried to fight against his strength. Of course, now that he was inside, he had a second arm to hold you down with, but the terrifying thing was that he really only needed the one. “Sam!” you sobbed, your own voice sounding foreign with the way it wavered and cracked.

“Yeah, baby, that’s me inside you,” he purred, “that’s your big brother’s cock tearing up this little pussy…”

When he roughly shoved the rest of himself inside, the tip of his cock found the end of you and your eyes shot open. He smiled down at you as he examined your face; twisted in pain, and glistening with tears turned greyish-black by your mascara.

“None of your toys ever went this deep in you before, huh? Poor thing, should’ve known you were all talk… you don’t even know how to take those big cocks you drool over. I can’t even imagine what you’ll be like when I put this in your ass.”

He cackled at the pure terror that danced over your expression, and the way your walls tightened around him briefly.

“Relax, sis, not today. I’m just sayin’, if you want me to keep my mouth shut to mom and dad, you’re gonna have to keep me happy. Lucky for you, I’m very happy right now, snug inside this sweet little cunt of yours…” he trailed off, leaning down to kiss your cheek and moving to suck on your ear, bite your neck, lick up and down over your pulse. He was waiting, you realized, for your body to relax so he could move inside you with less resistance. You were a little surprised he didn’t just jackhammer into you with no regard for your pain, but you had a feeling that part was coming soon anyways.

He reached down to pull your legs up, guiding them to wrap around his hips, and the new angle forced his cock a little deeper which made you squeal. The sound morphed into a stuttered moan, however, when he pulled back out of you slowly, savoring every detail of your walls as he sighed against your skin.

When he slammed back home, your nails dug into your own palms.

“Baby,” he whispered, “you’re close, aren’t you? Just from this. You always came so fast in your videos…”

Irritatingly, he was right; your walls were flexing as more slick coated his thick shaft, dripping down until you could hear the wetness whenever his hips slapped into yours. You couldn’t help it, considering how he pushed right into your g-spot with every stroke inside you, hitting every sensitive place harder and better than any toy ever had.

“See, baby? We were made for each other,” he cooed. “You were made to take this cock. You were meant to be my little fucktoy.”

You hated the way his words only added to your pleasure, pushing you right up to the edge— which his cock slamming all the way into you one last time finally sent you over.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped when he felt the force of your orgasm, smiling pridefully as your eyes fluttered shut and your head fell back against the couch. “So sensitive, sweetheart, and so fucking wet for me…”

He fucked you faster and— somehow— deeper, chasing his own release with aggressive thrusts into you. Each of his low grunts against your ear sent shivers down your spine, your legs around him tightening to pull him closer.

Just as you thought he might find his rhythm for a while and maybe, if you were lucky, be finished with you soon, he pulled out quickly and patted your thigh. “Hands and knees, baby,” he instructed, watching you shakily turn around and lift yourself on weak arms. It was short-lived, though, as he pushed your face back down into the couch cushion, forcing your back into a dramatic arch that made you feel like your body was on display for him. As if that wasn’t nerve-wracking enough, you couldn’t even see him much anymore, which meant you had no idea what he was reaching for when he leaned back— but you heard what it was when he turned it on. “Oh, you recognize this?” he mused. “It was my favorite of everything I saw you use.”

He rubbed the vibrator over your folds slowly, chuckling a little when you jolted each time it brushed against your clit. You didn’t really understand why he would want to fuck you with a vibe when he seemed to have been enjoying doing it himself; but then he slid it up a little higher, to your other hole, and you gasped. “S-Sam,” you pleaded.

“I know you took it here before. I watched you do it. I even heard you the night you filmed it— these walls are thinner than you think, sis.”

Shame burned on your face as you imagined him listening to you put something up your ass for the first time, only for him to see the video the next morning when you uploaded it.

“Do you think it’s gonna feel different when I put it in while I fuck you?” he mused, pushing the vibrating tip of it into your hole. Thankfully it was pretty slender, so the stretch wasn’t bad, but the vibrations were strong enough that you could feel them everywhere, and you realized he would be able to feel them, too, while he was inside you. “You’re gonna be so fuckin’ full, sis, stuffed to the brim just like you wanted.”

He pushed the toy in deeper until your hands clutched at the sofa beneath you, which was apparently his cue to guide his cock back into your drenched pussy. Just as he promised, you felt so full that you had no idea how to cope with it, your legs shaking as you tried not to collapse beneath him.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, moving himself and the toy at alternating paces inside you as you mindlessly drooled onto the cushion, your overstimulated body barely able to handle the sensations he was forcing upon you. “You like being my little fucktoy, don’t you? You’re so pretty like this, so pretty being used just like you deserve.”

“Sammy, please,” you sobbed, barely intelligible as you couldn’t really string your thoughts together anymore.

“You want more, huh? Needy little slut,” he snarled, but the way he said it almost sounded like a compliment. It certainly made your heart swell as if it was. He fucked you faster, then, and pushed the vibrator as deep into your ass as it would go until you were sobbing and blubbering and basically just a complete mess beneath him. “Keep squeezin’ me so tight and I’m gonna come inside you, sweetheart,” he moaned.

Some part of your brain was still aware enough to know that that was not a good idea, but you didn’t even really think to tell him not to because you knew he would anyway. Finally, you had accepted that he was going to do whatever he wanted with you and your resistance only brought out his crueler side.

“Fuck, come again for me,” he demanded, “come on my cock while I come inside you— that’s it, cream on my fucking cock while I fill you up, slut.”

It was jarring, the way his words suddenly knocked you over the edge again as you cried out, fresh tears filling your eyes and joining the damp spot beneath your face on the couch. You felt both your holes clenching around the intrusions he had filled them with, your head going fuzzy and your limbs going numb from the intensity of your peak; waves of warmth washed over you as you slumped down a little bit, the distant sound of his praises just barely reaching your ringing ears.

His free hand held your hips tightly while the other kept pumping the vibrator into you, and even through all the overwhelming stimuli going on at the moment, you could feel his cock beginning to flex deep inside you. Each pump of his come painting the deepest parts of you coincided with a low moan from him, the sound so cruelly perfect and forcing your channel to clamp down on him, weakly, one last time.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned as he caught his breath, turning off the vibrator before slowly pulling it out of you and tossing it aside. He kept his cock inside for longer, though, as he rubbed your ass and back gently. “You’re gonna be such a good little fucktoy for me, sis, I just know it.”

He let you drop when he pulled out of you, your spent body limp and leaking on the couch as he stared down at you.

“I think you need a shower, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “But first, you need to give me the password to your OnlyFans so I can help you delete it, okay baby? We don’t need anybody else looking at what’s mine.”

#sam wilson smut #dark!sam wilson x reader #sam wilson dark fic

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 4 years ago

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How Bad is Sia’s “Music” really?

I watched it illegally (because there was no way I was paying for that bullshit) and found out. It’s not as bad as we thought... It’s worse.

TW for ableism, Sia, drugs, alcohol, just in general a terrible movie, meltdowns, blackface

Literally the first thing you hear while they’re showing the production companies is THOSE stereotypical noises. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ll know what I mean.

And yes, she does this for the WHOLE fucking movie

What was the need to show her in her underwear? Maddie Ziegler was 14 when this was made, so what was the need??? And why did Sia prolong the scene by having her hitting herself?

Less than a minute in and my reaction was already “what the fuck is this shit?”

So the opening number not only had stereotypical exaggerated facial expression, it has Maddie in BLACKFACE?!? And with culturally appropriated hair?!?

The exaggerated facial expressions are literally constant and I took photos during the film to show it, more later, but I’ll keep mentioning it

ITS LITERALLY THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME SHE IS ON SCREEN

Even her way of walking is fucking offensive, Jesus Christ

The vocalisations just had me cringing so hard, I cannot describe how awful it made me feel

Why do all the neighbours need to be paid off and help her when she goes for a walk? I don’t-

Yes, by about the five minute mark I was already seriously debating all my life decisions. It was that bad.

Kate Hudson really didn’t give a fuck that her grandma died

I will keep saying it but WHY are the facial expressions/vocalisations CONSTANT?!! Literally they do not stop at all. I work with a child who is actually similar to this in that he’s nonverbal and he makes similar noises/faces, but the way they’re in this movie is so over-exaggerated?!? And even the kid I work with doesn’t do it 24/7?!?

Sia, calling your characters Zu and Music doesn’t make them interesting in the slightest. They’re still painfully terrible and one dimensional

Literally ONE minute after being left alone with her autistic sister, Zu calls the mental health service asking if they could “theoretically” “pick up” her sister?!? Like she wants to get rid of her already?!?

“A magical little girl” - autism isn’t a magical power?!? And Music is a young woman, not a little girl?!? Why are you infantilising her?!?

Okay I’m not being funny but this choreography is NOT hard. ANYONE can do it, so claiming that you needed to hire a dancer to be Music because of the numbers is literally bullshit (and even so, there are so many amazing autistic actors and dancers?!?)

20 minutes in and I wanted to give up

So she had her first meltdown because her hair didn’t get braided immediately and that’s... certainly interesting??

The fact that Leslie Odom’s character says “I’m going to crush you now”?!?

AND THEN HE FUCKING PICKS HER UP AND FULL-BODILY PINS HER DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR

“I’m crushing her with my love” - oh fuck you, just fuck you

So Sia lied, the restraint scenes were NOT removed and there was no warning. She’s a fucking POS liar

I have no idea why he’s called Ebo or why he has such a cliche African accent?!? I might have missed out on why because I was busy trying not to bang my head into the table while I watched this film but just... yikes

“He (his brother) liked to be held” - YEAH, HELD. NOT FUCKING CRUSHED

“He is dead now” - IM NOT FUCKING SURPRISED IF YOU CRUSHED HIM LIKE THAT

The constant babying and patronizing of the autistic character is so exhausting to watch. I’m so tired

“Planning on sending her to the people pound but I guess I’ll keep her a little longer” - SHE WAS JOKING BUT THAT WAS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A FUNNY JOKE. NOT EVEN IN AN AWKWARD WAY

STOP THE FACES IM-

^ YEAH, Sia, totally a fucking love letter to the autistic community here ^

So Zu finds this necklace she made as a kid that had a little dog on it, and she says to Music, “He had seizures too, just like you”... MELTDOWNS AND SEIZURES ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME FUCK THIS MOVIE-

It’s like Sia is trying to make the movie funny but it’s really not at all

Is Zu implying that Music is autistic because the mum was a junkie?!?

For real though, the dialogue in general is so fucking awful and cringey. Whoever wrote this should never be allowed to write again

Did she seriously leave her autistic sister alone to talk to who I’m presuming was her dealer or loan shark?!?

Also why is he - a white dude - wearing cornrows?!?

So who is the film really about? The autistic girl or the older sister saviour? I think we all know the answer to that one

WHY IS SHE WALKING AROUND WITH HER TEETH JUTTING OUT LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

The musical numbers are literally so painful to watch. The overly bright colours, the flashing... my eyes were hurting and so was my brain

Autism representation aside for a second, the musical numbers/choreography are all fucking atrocious. Ditto for the costumes

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE PINK OOMPA LOOMPA FRUIT THINGS?!? THEY LOOK LIKE THE PINK VERSIONS OF VIOLET BEAUREGARDE THE BLUEBERRY

I wanted to cry by this point, this movie is far more awful than I thought

“I’m not saying she doesn’t want to change, I’m saying she can’t” - FUCK YOU. Why is it okay for him to assume what she can or can’t do

Can I just say that autistic people aren’t constantly in a coked up wonderland state?!! We don’t see the world as a wonderland fantasy world 24/7?!!

“She can hear you from two rooms away” / *shows her listening through two brick walls to a conversation* — Also, we don’t have super fucking sonic hearing?? WE CANT HEAR THROUGH FUCKING BRICK WALLS?!?

“She can understand everything you’re saying to her” - she’s autistic not fucking deaf

Less than 45 minutes in, there’s another meltdown in the park

“I’m not climbing on top of a small screaming white girl in public” - yeah please fucking don’t

So Zu fucking pins her down with her weight 🤦‍♀️

“She doesn’t know who she’s hitting” - IM SORRY WHAT

EBO LITERALLY SAID “TREAT HER LIKE A BEAR” when talking her through the prone restraint, I fucking CANNOT

“Tell her she’s safe” - NOT IF YOU FUCKING RESTRAIN HER LIKE THAT SHE IS NOT

The fact that she gets up, smiling and happy after a meltdown and immediately is excited to get a snow cone... I can honestly say that after a meltdown, I am in no way happy or smiling. I am often not very verbal and I’m withdrawn/not myself for at least several hours, usually the rest of the day. Fuck this film

This film is literally just about Zu, and Music is there for a plot device to give her character development. That’s all she’s there for.

Love how Sia shoehorned Zu being suicidal in there. You know, just to try and make her more easy to sympathize with (it doesn’t work)

This film is literally just a 1 hour 47 minute Sia music video with ZERO plot

WHY WERE THEY WEARING PILLOW DIAPERS IN ONE NUMBER-

I really did not feel into the side plot with that guy who was fighting but it was still better than the actual movie so...

I am SO DONE with the NON STOP CONSTANT vocal shit. So tired.

LOJ’s only role in this film is to be the stereotypical wise black guy who assists a white woman’s story. There’s like hardly any other depth there

The Ebo/Zu romance is so fucking stupid and pointless and out of NOWHERE. I couldn’t even tell if they were into each other or not

I was already so bored of the musical numbers by this point. They added NOTHING to the plot but they pretended they did, and I was so over it. And it’s not because I’m not “creative enough” or anything to understand, I love musicals and I think it could have been cool if done right... but it wasn’t. They were a mess. It’s just bad.

Sia really tried to pretend her movie was deep but really it’s a shallow mess

So Zu is meeting rich drug clients and says to Music “try not to have one of your freak outs up there” and “if you could try to get it out now”... FUCKING YIKES. It’s not an on/off button, shut the fuck up

YEP THIS WAS THE SIA CAMEO FUCK THAT BITCH

The fact that she just calls “DRUG DEALER?!? DRUG DEALER IS THAT YOU”, fucking end this please-

I fucking hate this bitch I’m dead serious

“We’re gonna send them to Haiti cause there’s been an earthquake. All these buildings fell down, children’s bones were dislocated” - WHY WAS SHE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT IT

“Gonna buy a shit load of pain meds, gonna but them on my private plane” - FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

“Pop stars without borders” - Sia thinks she’s so clever but I would give anything to punch her I swear-

ANOTHER MUSICAL NUMBER JUST STOP IM BEGGING YOU

There’s this awkward conversation/bit with Zu and her drug dealer/loanshark about his outfit that was clearly meant to be funny but was just flat and painful

Yep, Sia really showed Music eating chewing gum off the underside of a park bench. Of course.

Look, the kid I work with does similar stuff by putting literally anything and everything in his mouth but like... why would you put that in your movie?

And there’s no indication before this that Music puts everything and anything in her mouth, she just randomly decides to get on her knees, under the bench and eat chewing gum, like she calculates that it’s there and gets it???

She has a THIRD meltdown after an allergic reaction to a bee sting and her sister just yells at her before realizing... I’m not here for this movie, I feel like I drifted off and was not really there

So Zu got angry because she left the drugs at the park but she’s not that upset that her sister had an allergic reaction???

Zu gets absolutely drunk because a) she lost Sia’s drugs and b) she’s stressed out by her autistic sister... wow, great message, Sia!

She really fucked off and left her sister alone to go clubbing/on a bender

The less said about the musical number here the better

Sia’s movie also checks the box of having stereotypical Asian parents, specifically stereotypical Asian dad being harsh/angry and hitting his wife!

ALSO HE PUSHED AND KILLED HIS SON WTF IS HAPPENING

Less than 3 minutes after the last, there’s a musical number that I think was about this side character going to heaven... another shitty Sia-esque number

The patterns during the number made my brain hurt.

Also there are so many autistic actors who can also dance, and yet Sia chose the neurotypical one because ✨ N E P O T I S M ✨

I just want to know how it was deemed necessary to show the fact the autistic character peed/wet herself? I mean... ??? It’s just so undignified and not at all necessary to the plot. Nothing happens after that, it just moves onto the next scene and it didn’t do anything

“I have no one” - 1) YOUR FUCKING SISTER. 2) GEE I FUCKING WONDER WHY, couldn’t be that you’re a shitty human being?!?

There’s a scene where Music is walking and she does ALL the stereotypical behaviours at once... just YIKES

Zu somehow stopped another meltdown just by grabbing Music by the shoulders and sitting her down???

Aaand yep. Another shitty musical number

Zu really goes to put her sister in a fucking facility and claims it’ll be “better for her” - BULLSHIT. Better for Zu, maybe, not Music.

Ah yes - the girl who the characters have said has problems with routines being changed/change in general... you’re now going to fuck up her routine by dumping her in a facility. Perfect Plan.

The nonverbal autistic girl suddenly speaking to say “don’t go” - you can just predict it from the off, can’t you?

Love that as soon as Music starts talking, Zu is like “fuck it, I’ll keep her!”

Zu really went and crashed Ebo’s brothers wedding... in a fucking bralette... YIKES

“I almost gave Music away” - SHE IS NOT A DOG YOU DONT GIVE PEOPLE AWAY

“We should sing a song” - PLEASE DO FUCKING NOT

Also that kiss/romance montage between Zu and Ebo was the CRINGIEST fucking shit ever

This movie seems to be implying that Music has locked in syndrome or something, like she’s locked in her own head or whatever it’s called, and I just... *sigh*

Oh and now Music magically fucking sings in a room FULL of strangers... this is literally embarrassing, please let this end

I mean it, this movie was fucking painful to watch on ever level

She got a service dog puppy which... okay?

Oh look, it’s the only decent song on the soundtrack but with an absolutely shitty over-stimulatory music video with the credits!

I can only name 5 characters in this film. Maybe 7 at a push, but even then I would be guessing

AND YEP SHE THANKED AUTISM SPEAKS OVER THE CREDITS. FUCK YOU SIA 🖕🏻

Let me reiterate: this is a movie about a neurotypical former drug addict whose character development comes from the autistic character, from having an autistic sister she has to take care of. I’m so tired.

We are NOT plot devices or tools for character development. Not once does anyone in this film treat Music like a human being - she’s treated as a burden, a problem, and then like a pet that they decide to keep. Not once is the film focused on how she is feeling - it’s always about Zu or Ebo. The performance itself was so over exaggerated and it made me want to cry when I watched it because this is how the world sees us, and this movie will make it ten times worse. It’s stuff like this that made me think “I don’t want to be labelled as autistic because people will think I’m a certain way”, that made me wait so long before going to the GP to get a referral.

As I said, poor autistic representation aside, the movie is just so appallingly bad. It truly is one of the worst films I’ve watched. If you’re going to watch it, please don’t - or, if you want to because you want to see how bad it is/to raise awareness/critical posts, at least do it illegally. Do not give Sia your money.

#sia #music #music 2021 #music movie #autism #tw ableism #tw meltdown #tw blackface #anti sia #lol sia

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starshine583 · 4 years ago

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New Girl on the Block (14)

(I’m finally baaaaaaaaaaack!!! So sorry this took so long guys, my life’s been CRAZY lately! Hope you all enjoy the update anyway thought! As usual, there’s this series and then a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries. Go check that out too if you prefer!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 13 / Ch. 15 (ao3)

Chapter 14: Geronimo!

Felix dangled his leg over the pool’s edge, feeling the warm water brush against his skin as he slowly swung it back and forth. His reflection stared back at him, distorted by the ripples that formed from his movement. He didn’t swim in pools often, but when he did, it tended to be soothing for him. The waves rolling back and forth across his body helped remind him to breathe and gave him a sense of presence for where he was in that moment. He could allow himself to get lost in his thoughts while staying present on earth at the same time. It was nice.

However, while he did enjoy looking at the water, he didn’t quite fancy it being thrown onto him.

“Watch it!” Felix scowled at Allan and Claude as he scooted back on the pavement. If they continued to splash water like that, not only would Felix get soaked, but the cement around them would as well. Someone could get seriously injured by slipping if they weren’t careful or weren’t paying attention, specifically a certain ravenette that was going to be joining them in a few minutes.

“Aw, come on, Fe.” Claude laughed, swimming towards the blond. Felix moved back a bit more to be safe. “You have a swimsuit on for a reason. Join us! The water feels great!”

“I’ll get in when I’m good and ready.” Felix replied with narrowed eyes.

Claude tisked and swam back towards the deep part of the pool. “Figures. You’re probably waiting on Marinette to get here.”

Felix rolled his eyes. Why would he wait for anyone to go swimming? The girls were taking a tad longer than them, but this wasn’t a formal event. There was no need to-

“Speaking of Marinette,” The brunette continued, “what do you think of Luka? It sounded like they were pretty close.”

Felix held back a sigh, slowly growing more annoyed towards Claude’s strange, incessant questions and comments. For example, why would he think about Luka in any way? None of them had met the guitarist, and the only thing they knew about him was the flippant mention that Marinette had made earlier. A quick mention of dear friend, which was something that they’ve all done before. He’d noted the name, of course, but that was only because he’d fallen into the habit of noting a lot of things when it came to Marinette. Other than that, it was hardly an extraordinary occurrence, yet Claude was acting as though Luka had just joined their group alongside Marinette.

“I don’t have any thoughts on him.” He said. “You can’t have an opinion on someone you haven’t met.”

Claude scoffed. “Oh, please. You have an opinion on everything, Felix.”

“Everything I’ve read about and experience personally.” Felix replied curtly. Why would it even matter if he did have an opinion on Luka?

“Fine, I’ll change the question. What are your thoughts on Marinette’s thoughts about Luka?”

Felix raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are your thoughts? She was blushing a lot earlier. Do you think she has a crush on him?”

Felix paused. When he first saw her blushing and stuttering in the music room, his mind did turn to that possibility, but blushing and stuttering were two traits that she exhibited quite often. Unless she has a crush on their entire group, along with this Luka person, her becoming flustered towards their teasing shouldn’t mean anything. That did bear a new kind of question, though: What type of person would Marinette like? He’s already established that she had a personal connection to Adrien Agreste- or at least he’s quite sure of it -so that was one basis they could use for reference. What traits did Adrien possess that could be considered attractive to Marinette?

His first guess would be money, fame, and power, except Marinette wouldn’t be that shallow. Plus, she initiated the break up. Most people who were after a certain status wouldn’t break off their chances of getting it. That meant there had to be something else that Adrien possessed that “wooed” her. It could be looks, with Adrien being a model again, or his personality. Considering who they were talking about, Felix guessed the latter, or at least a mix of the two. Maybe she had a thing for blonds and Adrien tended to give her a world of attention. Or perhaps she enjoyed a pair of emerald green eyes and someone that would bring a positive energy to the room, the same energy she often brought herself. Granted, Adrien’s positive energy was mostly fake, but that could be the reason why they broke up in the first place. (If they were together, that is.) Felix had learned over the last few weeks that Marinette deeply appreciates honesty from others as well, which would make sense when one thinks about her struggles with anxiety.

She most likely didn’t have a boyfriend currently, since it hasn’t been mentioned in the month that they’ve known her, but if she did, Felix would probably guess that that person had to be thoughtful, honest, and loving, someone who could calm her worries and give her the stability in life she needed. It was the least she deserved.

As for Luka, though..

“I think you should ask her yourself if you’re so interested.” Felix finally answered.

Claude pulled a pout and sighed. “You’re no fun.”

“Oh, leave him alone.” Allan said, jokingly splashing Claude. “Can’t you let him be a buzzkill in peace?”

Claude laughed and pounced on Allan, splashing more water everywhere. Felix tisked, but before he could chastise them for spreading more water onto the concrete, another voice interrupted them.

“We’re here~!”

The boys stopped fighting, and Felix glanced over his shoulder towards Allegra, who had just entered the pool room. She was wearing her casual, purple bikini and had her hair tied up in a bun, her usual look when swimming. Behind her, Marinette was shuffling in as well, and no sooner did his eyes land on the ravenette than he felt himself freeze to his spot on the cement.

Her hair had been pulled up into a ponytail, and a frilly, pink bikini adorned her figure. Of course, neither of those things would have groundbreaking.. had she not also been completely ripped.

“Dang!” Claude remarked, taking the words out of their collective mouths. Her entire body appeared to be packed with muscle. It was like she’d decided to get up and complete a series of extreme exercises three times in a row daily! Felix already knew that Marinette was strong, but he didn’t expect her to look like she was chiseled out of rock itself.

“Marinette, why didn’t you tell us that you were jacked?”

“Is that a six pack?” Allan asked, his jaw falling slack.

A blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks, and a bashful expression painted her features as she crossed her arms over her chest. “O-Oh, um-”

“It sure is!” Allegra grinned, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Apparently, Marinette has the same addiction to exercise that you guys do.”

Allan gained enough sense to let out a short laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly call it an addiction-”

“And you didn’t tell us?!” Claude interrupted, betrayal clear in his tone.

Marinette faltered. “I- uh -didn’t think you would be.. interested?”

“Are you kidding?” Claude lifted himself out of the pool to show his own set of abs. “I love exercising! We could have been working out together this whole time!”

“Where do you exercise?” Allan inquired. “I wanna know what you use to get your muscles so defined.”

“Oh! Uh- well -You know..” Marinette looked ready to squirm now. “Just.. random workouts at the house.. I guess.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t know much about workouts, but from what he overhead from Allan and Claude, they could be time consuming. How did she manage to fit that into her schedule? She seemed busy enough with homework, designs, and helping her parents at the bakery. He supposed she could always rearrange her schedule to make time, but where was the equipment? Surely one couldn’t get muscles like that without using professional equipment, and yet he didn’t see anything remotely close to a weight last time they went to her house.

“Felix?”

Felix’s gaze flicked to Claude, and he almost groaned when he saw the brunette grinning like a fool again. What ludicrous thing was he going to say now?

“Care to share your thoughts with the class?” He joked. “You were staring at Marinette pretty hard.”

Felix’s eyes widened, then snapped to Marinette. Her blush was a touch darker now, and Allegra was snickering next to her. He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was looking when he zoned out. How long was he staring? Where was he staring?

“I-” He stopped, unsure of what to say. Were his cheeks supposed to feel this warm? “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t-.. I just got lost in thought. I didn’t mean to.. stare.”

Claude snorted behind him. “‘Lost in thought’. Yeah, right.”

Felix whipped around and splashed Claude in the face. Now was not the time for his quips.

“I-It’s fine!” Marinette assured before the boys could fight further. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything. Well, I mean- I just wanted sure that you were- you know -okay..”

Felix glanced back up at her, but for some reason, holding eye contact felt worse. So he shifted on the concrete, resting his elbow against his knee and his mouth in his palm. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

“Good.”

Felix barely had time to register Allegra’s comment or her steps as she ran towards him before he was abruptly shoved into the pool. A gasp escaped him as he flailed his arms around to gain stability, and he looked up to glare at Allegra. She was already jumping into the pool after him, though, yelling “Cannonball!”

She resurfaced a second later and threw him a subtle wink as she muttered, “I guess Marinette’s not the only one who needs to cool down, huh?”

Felix didn’t have a chance to snap back- he wasn’t staring at her that way. It was an honest mistake! -because Marinette plunged into the pool a second later.

A giggle fell from the ravenette’s lips when she resurfaced. “This water is so warm!”

“That’s because it’s a heated pool.” Claude informed as he swam over to her.

Marinette mouthed a “wow” before saying aloud, “I’ve never been in a heated pool before.”

“Well, now that you have, what do you think?”

“Hm.. I’d say it’s probably better for winter than it would be for summer.”

Allan chuckled. “I can confirm that it is definitely better in the winter.”

“Especially since there aren’t any other pools to swim in during that time.” Allegra smirked. She then splashed them all by making a wide wave with her arm.

“Race you guys to the water slide!”

Everyone began clambering to get to the other side of the pool, while Felix stood there squinting his eyes to avoid getting water in them. Why did he decide to be with such rowdy people?

“You good?” Allan, who had strangely stayed behind, inquired.

Felix nodded. “Allegra didn’t push me hard, so I didn’t scrape the floor.”

A hint of a smile passed Allan’s lips. “I was talking about your little fever earlier. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush that hard.”

Felix grit his teeth, feeling the heat rush back to his cheeks, and began swimming away to hide it. “It’s only because you all made it such a big deal.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Allan laughed, swimming after him. “Were we supposed to ignore the fact that you were just staring at Marinette’s abs without saying anything?”

Despite the annoying remark, Felix couldn’t help feeling a tad relieved. At least it was only the abs.

“No, but you didn’t have to make it weird.”

“You’re the only one who made it weird, dude.”

Felix scoffed. “Then, just forget the whole thing! It was an accident, and I got lost in thought, alright? For my sake and Marinette’s, just let it go.”

“Okay, okay.” Allan smiled, briefly pausing in his swim to hold up his hands. “This is me letting it go.. But I can’t promise anything for Claude or Allegra.”

Felix bit back a groan. Great. He could trust Allan to let this pass, and maybe Allegra, but if it was up to Claude?

He was never going to live this down.

~~~~~~

Marinette sat on Allegra’s bed with a smile as she ran her hands over the furry, soft comforter. Allegra sat behind her, carefully pulling on Marinette’s hair to tie it into a braid. Once everyone had had their fill of swimming, they’d decided to take showers and change into pajamas for the evening. The boys went off to their bedroom, while the girls retreated to theirs, and when Marinette finished her shower around fifteen minutes later, Allegra eagerly insisted that they exchange hair styles.

“I’ll wear your pigtails, and you can wear a braid!” She’d said. “It’ll be fun!”

The request was a strange one, but Marinette figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to accept it. So she’d grabbed her ribbons for Allegra and got settled on the bed. Now, they were here, simply doing each other’s hair and waiting for the boys to come back. The silence in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t born from awkwardness, at least. Allegra was merely focused on the task at hand, and Marinette didn’t mind enjoying the quiet while it lasted. Spending time with the group on a constant basis, while fun, could be overbearing sometimes. They were always moving, always talking and laughing together, especially Claude. So the softer moments like this were a nice reprieve.

Actually, Claude’s absence was probably the reason for this new found silence. If she listened hard enough, she’d bet that she could hear him chattering all the way across the mansion. Perhaps she might even catch Felix telling him to pipe down too.

“So,” Allegra began, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “You’ve been attending Rosemary for a good month now. Do you think you’ve got a good handle on it yet?”

Marinette smiled, careful not to turn her head as she replied, “I like to think so. I know where all of my classes are, and I’m pretty sure I’ve memorized the teacher’s names.”

“Oh, good.” She could hear the satisfied smile in Allegra’s voice. “What about our group? Have you gotten sick of us yet?”

A laugh tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “No, of course not. I could never get sick of you guys.”

“Aw~.” The blonde cooed. “Even Felix? He’s a bit of a grump.”

Marinette snorted. “Oh, I don’t think he’s that bad. He just likes to have order in his life, ya know?”

“I do.” Allegra agreed. “But I also think he’s mellowed out a lot since you came around.”

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, and she glanced to the left in an attempt to look at Allegra without moving. “You think so?”

Allegra hummed. “He’s not nearly as impertinent as he used to be. We had to drag him around everywhere we went with him pouting the entire way, but ever since you joined, he’s been coming to our hangouts without a single complaint. He’s been smiling more too.”

“Don’t get me wrong, we love Felix. He’s just a stay-at-home-and-isolate-yourself-from-all-human-existence type of person. That’s why it surprised us when he took such a shining to you.”

Heat rose to Marinette’s cheeks, and her fingers dug into the fur and feathers of Allegra’s blanket as she began fiddling with it a bit more. Had Felix really been smiling more and doing more things since she came around? Claude did mention Felix being ‘lenient’ with her a few times, but she’d thought he was just kidding. Or at least that Felix was more spiteful towards Claude since Claude was often pushy. Why would he take a shining to her specifically? Marinette didn’t remember doing anything special. Why not open up to the people who had been sticking by his side for two years?

“If he fought so hard against your get-togethers, why did you keep inviting him?” She found herself asking. She loved hanging out with Felix too, but if someone continued to reject her invitations and argue with her on every subject- as Allegra had implied -she probably would stop trying to hang out with that person after a while.

“Well, it’s like you said,” Allegra shrugged. Or at least, Marinette was pretty sure she shrugged. The bed definitely shook slightly from whatever the blonde was doing. “Felix isn’t really that bad. He may act all tough and annoyed, but he still shows up to our hangouts on time and pays for the lunches when it’s his turn and helps us out when we ask him. We know he enjoys being around us, even if he won’t admit it. We just like giving him a hard time.”

Marinette let out a soft hum. That made sense. She could see the way he made time for the planned visits and study dates and how he’d subtly help out the others in any way he could.

In other words, Felix didn’t truly need to be dragged around everywhere. He just had a habit of putting up a fuss.

“Plus,” Allegra continued, “we kind of deliberately push his buttons all the time. So I don’t really blame him for snapping at us. Maybe that’s why he warmed up to you faster than he did us.”

Marinette chuckled. Maybe it was. They did tend to tease him a lot.

She wasn’t sure if Felix was actually more comfortable around her or not- though if anyone were to know it would probably be Allegra -but the fact that he might be brought her a certain sense of pride. Felix’s stone-cold demeanor was strong, and he rarely dropped it for anything. Her being able to help him relax would be a remarkable accomplishment, in her opinion.

“Alright, my turn!”

Marinette jumped at Allegra’s voice and reached up to touch the back of her hair. The braid was indeed finished, trailing all the way down to the top part of her back. It might look strange due to it being short, but she would only have it in for one night. Besides, if it makes Allegra happy, then who cares if she looks a tad silly?

Marinette moved back on the bed to allow Allegra to move up in front of her, and once the blonde got situated, Marinette began gathering up Allegra’s hair to pull it into two ponytails. It wasn’t until she started trying to brush through the hair, however, that she realized how hard the task may be.

“My goodness, Allegra!” Marinette blurted out. “How do you even have this much hair? You’re like a Disney princess!”

Allegra’s hair was not only long, flowing well past her lower back, but also thick. Marinette had a feeling that she could stick her whole hand inside and barely make it past the surface. How was Allegra’s neck not constantly aching from holding it all? Was this why she braided it so often? It had to be. If Allegra allowed her hair to flow freely as it was now, it would get caught on everything and anything in its way.

Allegra laughed in front of her. “I’ll take that as a compliment, but if anyone were to be a Disney princess here, it would be Claude.”

The comment pulled a laugh from Marinette as well. “Why does that make sense?”

“I know right! He’s even practiced that crying flop thing that all of the princesses do.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I still have a picture of it. I’ve decided that he’d either be Aurora or Merida.”

Marinette snorted. “Why’s that?”

“Well-”

A knock on the bedroom door interrupted their conversation, and the girls paused to listen for whoever was on the other side.

“Hey. Can we come in?”

It was Claude, coincidentally the same person they had been talking about.

“Yeah, you’re good.” Marinette called back. “We’re just doing each other’s hair now.”

“And talking about how you’re a Disney Princess.” Allegra added with a grin.

Claude let out an incredulous laugh as he opened the door, revealing Allan and Felix to be behind him as well. “I’m a Disney princess?”

“Oh, yeah. Either Aurora or Merida. You pick.”

Claude scoffed jokingly. “Please. If I were a Disney princess, I would totally be Kuzco, because I’m fabulous and I may not be a princess, but I deserve a crown.”

Marinette burst into a fit of giggles, along with Allegra and Allan, but Felix rolled his eyes.

“Claude, you would be Kuzco because you’re both spoiled and overly dramatic about everything.”

Claude shot him a look. “You know we’re both spoiled right? But it’s fine. I don’t blame you for being jealous of me.”

Felix scoffed. “Jealous-”

“Anyway!” Claude cut him off, prancing over to Marinette. “Are you ready, Mari?”

Marinette's smile faltered. Ready? “Ready for what?”

“You and I are gonna arm wrestle.”

Her eyes bulged. “What?”

“If it’s alright with you.” Allan joined in. “We wanna see how strong you are.”

“Wait, so you all want to arm wrestle with me?”

“Not all of us.” Claude corrected. “Felix is too scared to challenge you.”

“I’m not scared.” Felix said, irritation lacing his tone. “I simply see no point in starting something I know I can’t win.”

“You won’t even try!”

“Why should I? I don’t work out on a regular basis like you do, and I’ve seen the things she can do. You two are going to get thrown across the room as it is. I don’t want to add myself to that list.”

Marinette pursed her lips, feeling another blush coming on. Did he honestly think that she was that strong? (Being Ladybug, she probably was, but-)

“Where are we going to do it?” She asked.

Claude perked up. “You mean you’ll really arm wrestle with us?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not. I just need to finish Allegra’s hair-”

“Oh, no.” Allegra interrupted with a grin. “I can finish the hair. You go arm wrestle.”

Marinette hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I wanna see the boys get creamed.”

“Allegra!” Claude shouted indignantly.

“You know you’re gonna~.” She sang in response.

The brunette huffed as he sat on the carpeted floor. “Does no one have faith in us?”

“Honestly?” Allan sat down next to him. “I don’t think I’ll win either. I just want to see how bad I’m gonna lose.”

“Wow.. at least you’re honest.”

Marinette giggled and moved to the floor where she assumed the arm wrestle would take place. Behind her, Felix claimed her abandoned spot on the bed next to Allegra, and she felt their gazes on her back as she laid down in front of Claude, who already had an arm up and an eager smirk on his lips.

Tentatively, Marinette grabbed his hand. She hadn’t been worried about winning at first, but now that everyone had voiced their belief towards her certain victory, the pressure was starting to weigh on her mind. Losing was much less humiliating when no one believed you would win in the first place.

“Alright, I’m sure everyone knows the rules.” Allan began, acting as referee. “Elbows have to be touching the ground no matter what, and you can only use one hand. The first hand to touch the ground loses. I’ll count down from three.”

Marinette nodded and situated herself a bit more on the ground. Claude did the same.

“No hard feelings, right?” The brunette asked lightheartedly.

“3..”

Marinette smirked.

“2..”

“None whatsoever.”

“1..”

“Especially since you’re going to be the one losing.”

An incredulous laugh burst from Claude’s lips. “Oh!”

“Go!”

They both pushed against each other at the same time, but Marinette managed to put in a burst of speed that slammed Claude’s hand right into the floor. The round was over in the blink of an eye.

“OOOOOOOOH!!!”

Allegra and Allan both cheered, and Claude looked like he would have fallen backwards from shock had he not been lying down. But nothing made Marinette happier than the proud smirk she caught on Felix’s lips.

“I wanna go again!” Claude announced eagerly.

“No way! It’s my turn to try!” Allan replied, shoving the brunette aside.

Marinette laughed and got situated again, and although Claude was disappointed, he quickly assumed the role of referee for her and Allan. There was another countdown from three, and when the word “Go” was shouted, the two pushed as hard as they could. Allan held up a tad longer since he was more prepared and focused, but in the end, the results were the same. Marinette slammed his hand into the floor with no sense of mercy, just as she had done with Claude.

“Dude!” Allan laughed, rubbing his wrist. “You’re good at this!”

“How often do you play?” Claude asked.

Marinette tilted her head back and forth. She may or may not play multiple nights a week with Chat Noir when patrols were slow, but that wasn’t something she could tell any of them.

“Only every now and then.” She decided to reply.

“What! That’s crazy!” Claude exclaimed. “Let’s do it again. I wanna try one more time.”

Marinette gladly obliged, and soon, one more time turned into six more times. Then ten more. The boys just kept shoving each other aside, insisting on playing again, only for her to beat them within a few seconds or so. Each round got admittedly harder for Marinette, but after two years of constantly finding new ways to beat Chat noir, arm wrestling with civilians almost felt too easy.

“Agh!” Claude groaned after getting beat for the twelfth time in a row. “I was so close that time!”

“Yeah.. no.” Allegra said from the bed. “Not even.”

“Do you see now why I didn’t care to try?” Felix remarked.

“Hey, I’m still having fun losing.” Allan smiled. “Move over, Claude, it’s my turn again.”

“Oh, give her a break.” Allegra scolded. “You’re gonna tire her out until your win is guaranteed.”

Marinette silently agreed. She could definitely go longer, but her arm was starting to feel tired, and she didn’t want to end up over-exerting herself, especially when she already did that on a weekly basis as Ladybug.

“Aw, I guess you’re right.” Claude relented, scooting back on the carpet. Allan also backed off, to which Allegra gave a satisfied nod.

“Besides, we have to figure out what we’re doing for next week before we forget.”

Marinette twisted on the floor to give Allegra a questioning look. “What’s happening next week?”

“Valentine’s Day!” The blonde said, as though it were obvious.

“We host a party for the school every year to celebrate it.” Allan explained.

“And now we need to figure out where we’re going to host it for this year.” Allegra finished.

“Oh..” Marinette muttered, trying not to sound too despondent. Ever since Adrien, she’d sort of been actively avoiding things that symbolized love or relationships.. if only to keep the blond out of her mind. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

“It is!” Claude grinned. “We get a bunch of decorations and snacks and drinks, and then we’ll put on music for people to dance to! Sometimes we even make up fun games to play.”

“And you do this every year?”

“For the past four years.” Allegra confirmed. “Speaking of which, do you want to help us decorate?”

Marinette knew she shouldn’t be surprised towards the request, since they’d invited her to everything else under the sun, but she still couldn’t help raising her eyebrows. “Really? You want me to help?”

“Of course!” Claude smiled. “We’d love to have your artistic touch.”

A soft chuckle passed her lips. The group’s attachment to her had been made clear from all of the get-togethers they invited her to join, but she’d fallen under the impression that they were all still newly made friends. Therefore, being invited to something that sounded extremely personal, such as decorating for a party that they alone hosted, made her realize how highly the group thought of her. Or perhaps they would invite anyone who returned their smiles.

Either way, She felt extremely honored.

“That’s sweet, but I’m a fashion designer. Not a party designer. They’re a bit different.”

“Yeah, but you like doing crafts, right?” Allan pointed out. “We make a lot of our decorations by hand. It helps the parties seem more personal and gives us a good excuse to hang out over winter break.”

“Not that we really need one.” Allegra added.

Marinette mouthed a ‘wow’ before saying, “You guys really go all out.”

“Yeah, we do.” Claude smirked. “Otherwise, who’d wanna come?”

“That’s why we need to get a reservation somewhere by tomorrow. So we have time to prepare.”

“Did you guys have a place in mind?”

“I have a few, actually.” Allegra replied. “My main preference is the Mandarin Oriental, but there’s also a few other options like Ritz Paris, Bateaux Parisiens, or Les Pavillons de Bercy.”

Marinette nodded thoughtfully, though she’d really only heard of one of those places. Was it bad that she didn’t know about the other three?

“Have we done the Mandarin Oriental yet?” Allan asked.

“Not that I remember.”

“I don’t want to do Bateaux Parisiens.” Felix spoke up. “Being on a boat with that many people would be dreadful.”

“Aw, what?” Claude said. “Boats are awesome!”

“Not when they are packed to the brim with people. You’d barely be able to move an inch without running into somebody, and there would be no escape once you’re out on the water.”

“Well, fine, if you’re going to put it that way..”

“I say we do Mandarin Oriental.” Allan remarked. “I trust Allegra’s judgement on the setting.”

Allegra smiled at that, and the other two boys shrugged.

“I’m fine with it as long as I can get some air at some point.” Felix said.

“I guess I’m okay with it too.. But we should try to do a boat next year.”

Allegra shot Claude an indulgent smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Who’s going to call and reserve the tables?”

“I can have Dad do it.” Allegra answered. “We want him to reserve it for two days so we have time to put the decorations in, right?”

“Yeah, like usual.”

“Alright. We can check out the room we’re reserving tomorrow to see which types of decorations we need.”

“Great!” Claude chirped. “Does that work for you, Mari?”

Marinette smiled. She may not be fond of love or romance at the moment, but if throwing a Valentine’s Day party meant spending more time with these wonderful people, she would absolutely do it.

“Perfectly.”

“Awesome.” Allegra said, satisfied. “Now that that’s settled, we can go back to messing around. What do you guys want to do?”

“Besides arm wrestling?” Claude joked as he eyed Marinette.

“Besides arm wrestling.”

“Why don’t we play hide and seek?” Allan suggested. “We haven’t played that with Marinette yet.”

Marinette gasped. Playing hide and seek in a mansion as big as this one? How had she not considered that before!

“Yeah, that’s a great idea!”

“Absolutely!”

“..I suppose.”

“What do you say, Mari?” Allegra smiled. “Wanna play?”

Marinette didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Yes, please!”

Allan chuckled and leaned back on his palms. “Great. Who’s going to be it?”

The group paused for a split second. Then, all at once, a chorus of ‘not it!’s rang out in the room.

“Claude, you were the last one!”

“What? No way! It was totally you!”

Allegra shot up from the bed. “Nope! It was you! Start counting to 150!”

“But let us turn off the lights first.” Allan added as he got up.

“Oh, no. I’m counting now.” Claude replied with a sinister grin. “So you better hurry to turn the lights off as you go.”

Felix was up now too, and Marinette, in her giddiness, shot up from the floor with a squeal to follow him.

“Claude Herolds, you better wait for us to-”

“One!” The brunette yelled over Allegra.

“Claude-”

“Two!”

When it was clear he didn’t intend on stopping, everyone scrambled to get out of the bedroom door. They got stuck for only a moment, pushing against each other to be the first one out, then they struggled free and scattered.

Marinette stopped at the top of the steps, her eyes darting around the parts of the mansion she could see. There were so many rooms, so many open spaces, and she still hadn’t memorized where everything was, let alone where good hiding places could be. Where should she even start?

A hand gently grabbed her arm.

“This way.” Felix said in a hushed tone, lightly tugging her down the stairs. “Downstairs is more open for when you need to move to a new hiding place.”

“That’s allowed?”

He nodded. “It’s why we turn the lights off. I’ll show you a good room to start.”

“That’s why it surprised us when he took such a shining to you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Marinette’s lips. “Thanks.”

With the blond’s assured guidance, Marinette’s steps held a tad more confidence, and as Claude’s countdown lowered to 125, the two bolted for a room to hide.

tag list: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07

#felinette #New Girl on the Block #Felix Culpa #Marinette #Quantic Kids #Miraculous Ladybug #Rosemary AU

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clarissalance · 4 years ago

Text

Wolves

Pairing: Kaeya x fem!Reader, Diluc, Crepus

Warning: minor swearing, cheesy flirt, dry humour

Summary: All men are wolves.

A/N: Muahaha I have came back and brought you the blatant cheesy flirt. Welcome to the first lesson of flirting with Kaeya. Lol, guess who is coming next?

Also, I’m planning to write a wind-trace fic because the game is so fun. (p/s: I waste 3 hours playing it) Guess who is in it?

Okay, the first fic for my lover boy. Please give Kaeya a lot of love!! (*￣3￣)╭

Another beautiful day, another day of wasting the lovely weather to stay inside the study room, bury your head into the pile of books next to you. You let your eyes wander to the window again, gazing rays of light fleeting through the window, golden hues on the wooden floor. Tiny specks of dust accumulate overnight, fluttering around the curtain. Outside, the chirping birds bathing under the sun, casually chilling on the window. Oh, how you wish you would be able to relax like those carefree animals.

“You might burn the birds crips the longer you stare at it.” Startled by the quiet voice, your head snaps toward the blue-haired teenage direction, and you can’t help but scowl at his statement. You can’t be the only person in the room who wants to go out and play. Knowing Kaeya, he’s definitely trying to find an excuse to end the class early.

The only person who is diligent, hard-working, and does not have thought about leaving this room is the young master Diluc. The young man is sitting opposite you, eyes burning holes on the thick textbook.

Archon, how can a 16 years old overly enthusiastic person like him enjoy the excitement of reading Descartes philosophy? Maybe he is the only child in Mondstadt, no, maybe in the whole Teyvat who enjoys something torturous like that. Shivering at your own thought, you shift your chair closer to Kaeya, giving Diluc a terror gaze.

“Aren’t you going to finish the essay?” Pointing at the half-full parchment on the table, you ask. “ Diluc and I already finish it.”

“ Oh, how do I know? How am I suppose to understand Kant and Descartes theories, and then link them to deductive and inductive reasoning?" Kaeya lets his finger running through the silky blue hair and pulls them out of frustration. On the other side, Diluc shoots him a glare, annoyed by his brother complaint.

“How did you guys do it?” Kaeya asks boredly, his finger pokes the quill.

You put your hand under your chin, beaming him charmingly. “ You know Kaeya, it is something I call improvisation. Words just flow out of my tip.” Under your lashes, you can see his cheek dusting pink. Cute!

“ Just read the books, and you will get it.” Diluc unhelpful adds.

Both of you stare at red-head incredulously. Is he being serious?

Like always, Kaeya knows he can not take your advice to heart. One is a genius, and the other is just pure luck.

Suddenly, the door is burst open, and you quickly shove your feet into the shoes, eyes darting to see the intruder. Internally, you hope that person is not lady Elizabeth, your etiquette teacher. Your blood runs cold at the thought. You can already imagine her sharp tones commenting how horrendous and un-ladylike your act is.

“How is your study going?” A deep, strong voice booming from the back, and finally, you get let out a breath. Diluc looks up from his book, beams brightly at the man.

“ We are done with homework, father. These are just extra reading.” Well, for the record, these are his extra readings, not yours. And Kaeya hasn’t finished his 2 feet scrolls of essay yet.

Master Crepus nods in satisfaction. “ If that is finished, you kids can take a break. The young lady from the Gunnhildr family is here with her father. Maybe you can give her some accompanies.” The middle-aged man directs the words at you, maybe feeling guilty for leaving a young lady like you in his two sons care.

Your parents left you in the Ragnvindr care every Summer because of their hectic schedules and frequent business trips at this time of the year. In addition, your mother says it is essential for you to have good relationships with the heir of Ragnvindr and his brother. “Maybe you will need their help someday.” She left it vaguely.

“ Are you guys going to drink again?” Kaeya suspiciously questions, his eyes glinting with playfulness.

“ Hey, what’s wrong with men having a drink together?” Crepus defensively retorts, notices how Diluc gives him a disproving gaze.

“ When you guys grow up, you would enjoy it too.” The three let out opposing noises, clearly not having the same idea as him. The man waves dismissively return back the topic.

“ Let’s come down to greet the head of Gunnhildr first.” He heads toward the door, down the hallway.

“And be nice to the young lady, boys.” The master emphasizes the phrase, his eyes pinning at the guilty-looking Kaeya and the absent-minded Diluc. Finally, he exits the room, not forgetting to close the door.

“ Father says as if we don’t treat people nicely.” Kaeya pouts, right after Crepus footstep drifting away from the study. “ The workers never complain anything about our behaviours, right Luc?”

Sitting next to him, you can't help but let out a snort. He dares to say that? Kaeya raises eyebrows at you, annoyed by your shaking shoulder. The boy in red has a blank face, maybe not interested.

“ First, you guys ignore me for 2 weeks when I just came here.” You burst out in laughter, recalling back at the very first memory when you just arrived here.

“When I tried to approach, you both avoided me like the plague.” Your whole body is shaking vigorously, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. This is too hilarious! Somewhere in between, you can spot Diluc burning cheek.

“ Haha, and haha-later,” You can hardly breath, laughter bubbling up. “Adeline told me your reason is ‘It's b-because she doesn’t have a willie.' ” Dramatically air-quoting, you even imitate their stuttering childish voices. This earns you a pointed glare from Diluc and a smack in the arm from Kaeya, but a good laugh is always worth it.

Both of them freeze on their tracks, faces puff red as tomatoes, steaming almost coming off their ears. If the young heir is to wear a red suit, you are sure he can blend in well with the mansion roof.

Diluc shifts stiffly in his chair and abruptly stands up, heading toward the exit. Maybe he is too embarrassed at the mention of his dark childhood.

“Where-haha, are you going, Luc?” You are still in the middle of your giggling, noticing how Diluc is dashing to the door. Letting out a coughing fit, he quietly mumbles.

“ I'm going down to greet the Gunnhildr family.” His figure vanishes right behind the door, not letting you tease him further. Outside, the painful sound of Diluc tripping on his own feet make you almost fall off your chair. You have too many good laughs today.

“Right, I-I should get going too.” Next to you, the blazing Kaeya remembers to dig a hole and hide. His hand slams hard on the table and the youthful teenager stands up, gracefully heading toward the door. Maybe he wants to avoid becoming another joke.

" Ah, wait-" You follow instantly, but the moment you stand up, something slips, and the next thing you know, the ground is shaking, and you see the ceiling is getting further.

Your first instinct is to grab the closest object, and then close your eyes, waiting for the painful impact with your head. Clench your jaw tightly, and you hold your breath, hoping it will hurt less if you tense your body.

Right after tensing up, you feel someone just grab you by your shoulder, and your feet step on something bumpy. And then, your head makes an impact with something hard. A grunting is followed.

Heart hammering in your chest, you cautiously peek, expecting yourself to see the ceiling, but instead, greet with an unusual sight. A pair of dark colour trouser paired with leather shoes. On top of it is your feet, loosely wore low heel is stepping on that leather shoes. Shit, you stepped on Kaeya. In a panic, you rush down from his painful sore feet, but your head jams in his ribs. He just let out another woeful sound.

This time, you carefully keep your position in place, slowly remove each foot one by one, moving away from him. Craning your neck upward, you finally meet his gaze, his eyes are full of concern and uneasiness, spooked out by your sudden incident.

“Did you hit your head hard?” Kaeya asks you nervously, his voice laced with anxiety. He must have been terrified when you slip. You shake your head, hands grabbing his shirt.

" I should be asking you that. Are you okay?" You give him a worrying gaze, your fingers running along his ribs, checking if your stone head broke anything. " I didn't break anything, right?" Hesitantly, you look into his deep blue eyes, noticing the diamond shape. Has he always has this in his eyes?

Kaeya snorts inelegantly, shakes his head. " Your head is hard as a rock, but that much can't break my ribs yet." This earns him a hit on his arm.

"Hey! I'm trying to be considerate, and this is how you treat me?" You jab him, hand purposely smack his chest, but he doesn't budge an inch. How strong is this guy? This time, you put all the force on your arm, slapping hard on his chest again. The young man in the blues shoot you a shit-eating grin, clearly not faze.

"How is my chest feeling?" He pokes, his palm engulfing yours.

" Too hard for my liking." You give him a complex look, trying to escape from his tight grip but fail miserably. You wiggle your hand again, shaking off his iron clad. Why is he so strong?

While you are attempting to flee from his firm grasp, the young man leans down, face an inch away from you. Flushing at the sudden closure, like usual, you avoid his burning gaze. You hold your breath when your noses almost touch. What is this rascal doing again?

" You shouldn't be touching men like that." Kaeya opens his mouth, saying something completely out of nowhere. You tilt your head in confusion, while your eyes travel down, you notice your hands still on his chest. O-oh, so he is saying about this.

" I don't normally touch random people." You mumble defensively, your eyes lower. " I was checking for your injury."

"They will misunderstand." Kaeya cuts in right after, not accepting the excuse. But why would they misunderstand? You are just being nice, right?

Like he can understand what is going inside your mind, Kaeya reminds you.

"All men are wolves, you should be more be careful with them."

You give him a confusing look.

Kaeya is not one of them, right?

Eventually, he let out a soft sigh and moves back, allowing you to savour your personal space. Just right after your throbbing heart finally calms down, he brings your tight-griped hand in his to his face. Your meet with his alluring look in his eyes. It is pulling you in, telling you to give in the temptation. Plump lips brush your knuckle teasingly, he blows a warm breath on the back of your hand. He gives you a saccharine smile.

" And if not be careful." His husky voice ringing in your ears, the numbing spark runs along your spine. "They might devour you."

#kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin impact #genshin x reader #all men are wolves #fluff #romance #implication #bad chilhood memory #willies #clarissalance #diluc ragnvindr #crepus ragnvindr #kaeya ragnvindr

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sdvharveybby · 4 years ago

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How the Bachelors and Bachlorettes surprise the farmer on Valentines Day!

So, my friend @soft-bois-make-me-simp and I decided we wanted to collab for something on Valentines Day!! As this was our first time doing a collab with another person, we actually had a ton of fun throwing around ideas and getting stuff together! Not to mention that they had so many ideas that my mind was swimming, it was honestly so cool. I have a hard time writing about the bachelorettes, but they just blew me out of the water. I couldn’t have done this post without them and it was totally worth it. We had a ton of fun so we hope you enjoy this!!! All the Bachelors and Bachelorettes are below, thanks and WE LOVE Y’ALL. HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!!!

I did all the bachelors! @soft-bois-make-me-simp did all the bachelorettes!

Bachelors~

Harvey

Oh, he spends a lot of time trying to present you with the best Valentine's Day present. He researches ideas on how to do that. In the end, he decides he wants to surprise you with dinner at his place and he is prepared. Throughout the day he spends it gifting you different presents like flowers, little love notes, and even a box of chocolates! Then, he calls you up and invites you over. Opening the door to the clinic, rose petals line the floor leading up to his door upstairs. Stepping into his room, the lighting is low with candles and jazz quietly breaking up the silence in the background. There’s a table set up in the middle of the room with a lacy pink tablecloth, dinner is set up, and rose petals decorate the floor. “H-hey!” He says nervously to you, “I-I wanted to surprise you, d-do you like it?” Even without the room completely lit up you know he’s blushing, but you can see that he’s wearing a nice undershirt like he always wears, but without his long green coat, and he’s wearing dark dress pants. He approaches you and softly gives you a kiss on the cheek, he then pulls you into a big hug. The dinner was delicious and you two spend the time complimenting each other and being in each other’s company. After dinner you help him clean up, you then see that he had been researching on how to be romantic… by watching romance movies. His efforts to show you how much he appreciates and loves you shows no bounds. He walks you home and before you walk through the door he says, “I love you, you know? I really do love you.”

Elliott

You wake up at your usual time and head outside to do your daily chores. You head towards the mail box and it’s stuffed to the brim with letters! Eyes wide, every single one is addressed from Elliott, you carry the stack of letters inside and as you open them they’re all love notes with various dates on them. By checking each date you realize he had been writing love notes, with you mind, for an entire month! You check the one for today’s date and it’s the shortest letter within the stack. He explains that he wants you to meet him at his place around 8pm but he doesn’t explain why (his signature has many red hearts around it.) Arriving at his place at 8pm he greets with a big hug and a tender kiss, “I could hardly wait for you, my love!” In his small shack he put together a wonderful dinner for you two to enjoy. During the meal he explains his love for you the only way a poet would, it goes from him desiring your beauty over the sun to how excited he gets whenever you’re in view. After dinner he gestures for you to sit and relax on his bed. The evening ends with him playing the piano, he wrote a piece (for the first time) completely inspired by you and the love he holds for you… and only you.

Alex

He is up and ready at 6am. With groggy eyes you open the door to see Alex with a big goofy smile holding flowers. “Good morning! I just wanted to say that I love you!” He says this all in one breath and thrusts the flowers to you, “I’ll come pick you up at 6pm. I love you, bye!” It seemed over in a flash once you accepted the flowers, but he seemed confident and happy- you couldn’t deny his puppy dog eyes. At 6pm he strolls up the path, and linking your arm with his, you both begin to walk to the beach. Nervously scratching the back of his neck, he blushes and says, “You’ve been there for me a lot. I know I’m not book smart or anything, but you’ve been my-” he reaches in his pocket to pull out a scribbled note, “-light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve never loved anyone more than I’ve loved you,” He awkwardly laughs, and with the sun setting behind him he stops and holds both your hands in his. His eyes are full of love and devotion, “I found these in Zuzu City, I hope you like them,” He pulls out matching necklaces giving you the one with ‘A’ on it. “See, this one has your letter on it! I hope you like it,” You couldn’t say no and he helped you put the necklace on. With his large and goofy smile you two end the evening in each other’s company, holding hands and watching the sun set.

Sebastian

Sebastian gets really excited to show you a new DND adventure that he’s compiled for you two to play. He explains that he’s thought about this for a while and through a slew of note writing and trial and error, he is convinced that he has made you the best gift for Valentines Day. It’s an odd adventure that asks you to find Sebastian his one true love- you laugh thinking it’s just Sebastian being goofy but you play along. Through fighting and exploration you begin to gather clues as to who his true love is supposed to be, the clues are subtle but explain the personality and appearance of the one he wants to be with. At the end of the campaign you smile because all along, through all the notes you’ve gathered throughout the adventure, they all describe you. You are his one true love and the only one he wants to be with.

Sam

Sending you a letter in the mail, Sam explains he wants for you to be home around 8pm. Course you comply, a bit curious considering you had no idea what he had planned. Coming up the path, carrying his guitar, he gives you an awkward smile. He seems nervous and his voice sounds shaky when he greets you, “I wasn’t sure what to give you for Valentines Day, so I did what I know best,” he says, unlocking his guitar case. He gestures for you to sit and with a shaky voice begins to play the guitar and sing you a love song that he created himself. Sam avoids eye contact with you for a bit as he plays, unsure of how you feel about it, but as time went he grew more confident. When he locks eyes with you it’s filled with appreciation, love, and admiration. After finishing his song he gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek- he didn’t want to be with anyone else.

Shane

Shane decides that he wants to take you out to the Stardrop Saloon for Valentines Day. He opens the door for you and as you two sit he gives you a peck on the cheek. You can tell he’s certainly trying as you see he has gel in his hair and he’s wearing clean clothes. “I… Look, I don’t do sappy stuff, b-but you know, I really enjoy your company and I-uh I wanted to try and do something special for you.” He explains as a blushy mess, he avoids eye contact with you as he says this, but you can tell by the sound of his voice that he really means it. Without ever ordering, Gus approaches the table with a big smile and sets down a pizza that’s in the shape of a heart! “I-uh… I really like you, you know. I’m not good with this stuff, but you mean a lot to me so let’s enjoy some pizza!” He remarks trying to divert the conversation from anything sappy. Through the rest of the night he spends it trying to make you laugh, and you didn’t know how late it had gotten until Gus had kicked you guys out. When he walks you home you see him noticeably get sadder, you realize that he never wanted the night to end.

Bachelorettes~

Abigail

Abigail wants to take you for an adventure. One where it’s quiet and a place only she knows about, or so she thinks. Telling you to clear your schedule that day and to meet near the wizard tower she’ll blindfold you. It’s a secret she wants to share with you, but when she reveals the secret forest you smile at her. Hesitating for a second to tell her that you’ve been here often though when she’s about to lead you to a dead end and you tell her; she knows it wasn’t a secret to you. She asks you to lead the way to the pond where she has a blanket prepared and asks you to sit down. Once you are settled she plays you a piece on her flute that you haven’t heard before. It’s calming and beautiful, you would even describe it as enchanting. After she finished she tells you it was an original piece inspired by you.

Emily

Waking up you find Emily gone from her side of the bed. In her place was a wrapped up box tied together with a bow and a note saying Open. Inside was an outfit that was absolutely stunning in your favorite color. It was a more formal attire then what you both normally wear but that wasn’t all that was in the box. Another note attached to it saying she hopes you get a positive energy from the outfit as it was made with love. For another surprise please wear it and meet at the bus stop at 7pm. Wearing your new glamorous outfit that fits like a glove you see Emily dressed up and waiting for you. She takes you to ZuZu City where to your surprise the bus stops in front of a ballroom studio. Emily tells you she’s been taking a class on the “Dances of Love” and wanted to show you what she’s learned. You spend the rest of the night dancing, both getting lost in the music and each other.

Haley

Haley didn’t mention to keep your schedule open or to come at a certain time but you knew Valentine’s Day was important to her. It was a day she looked forward too each year and you were excited to spend it with her. After the chores around the farm were done you headed to her house with a pink cake you made yourself and a sunflower pouch Emily helped you make. You put the cake in the kitchen and head to her room. She was standing in front of the vanity, but when you walked in you heard a closing noise, almost like a book being closed. She is holding something behind her back when you approach she shoves something into your hands. It’s a scrapbook decorated in pink and sunflowers with both your names on the cover in a heart. Opening it, it's a collage of photos she’s taken over the time you’ve spent together. Polaroids of the first gift you gave her, your date with the cows, some of the mornings you’ve spent together and all the events you’ve been to together. She goes over how special each moment is to her and tears up saying how much of a better person you made her. Thanking you for coming into her life and showing how beautiful a photo can truly be when you’re in it.

Maru

Waking up you were excited as Maru asked you to meet her tonight. A special viewing of the stars with you space girl is something that always makes you happy. Though walking out you see all your crops have been waterd, in fact next to your crops were sprinklers. Confused, you walk to the mailbox where you find a letter from Maru telling you she built some sprinklers for you and if they are something you liked she’s happy to make more. She also reminds you about tonight and to dress warm! When the time arrives you head to the mountain and enjoy hearing her talk about space. That is until she mentions one star that you’ve never noticed before. She asks if you know the name but it’s one you are unfamiliar with. Maru smiles at your confusion. Telling you that for Valentine’s day her present besides the sprinklers, was getting you a star. A way that if you ever need to be reminded of her love just look up and know that she loves you more than all the stars in the sky.

Leah

Everyone in town was buzzing about a big Valentine’s event happening this year. It was something that was kept a big secret and nobody in town knew what was happening just what time to go. Leah was not one to usually express extreme interest in going to town events but she seemed very excited for this one. If not to find out what was the big event you decided to go for Leah. She mentions having to finish up some work and she’ll meet you at the event so heading alone you’re floored when you see it’s an art show. Not just any art show but one Leah is putting on! It’s a Valentine’s day art show with each piece centered around the theme of love. She tells you how you inspired these pieces and how you are her muse. Not just for today but forever.

Penny

Ever since the chili incident you have been trying your best to avoid Penny’s cooking. You love her, you really do and want to support her but cooking was just not a strong point. So when she asks you to a Valentine’s day picnic where she plans on cooking the food you’re a little hesitant but seeing her eyes light up talking about it you tell her of course. Walking into the forest you see her and a large basket next to her. She starts talking out dish after dish and encouraging you to try them all. You take a pepper popper and eat it. It was really good! You try all the different dishes from the stuffing to fish stew all delicious. She tells you she’s been practicing with Gus and is very happy to see you eating her cooking. Penny tells you she has one more surprise and gives you a book. It was your favorite book, looking inside you noticed a message. It was a message from the author, she got your book signed by your favorite author. Penny tells you to look on the last page as well where she wrote a note, although this book may be your favorite, our story will always be mine.

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 4 years ago

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Fic: Relief

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x female reader (cishet, no y/n, no kids, reader is on her period)

Warnings: Mutual hand jobs during period, blood is mentioned but not featured. Cramps described.

Summary: Frankie knows how to deal with cramps. Frankie's got you.

You exhale a sigh of relief when you step underneath the hot spray of water. Shuddering at the sudden heat of the shower, you tense up for a second before relaxing and turning your face up towards the stream. As you get used to the temperature, you turn up the heat a little more and carefully rub your lower back and stomach to spread out the warmth over the bloated, aching parts. You got your period this morning and have spent the day with a nagging ache radiating from your stupid fucking uterus. Towards the evening, the cramps worsened and you didn't eat much during dinner. Frankie had suggested you take a shower and an early night, let him worry about cleaning up, but you were loath to just let everything go because of something you've experienced once a month for over half your life. Besides, this wasn't even the worst your body could throw at you: you were still functioning. Uncomfortable, yes, but not bedridden and vomiting. After a few chores, however, you figured you had done enough for the day, and decided to take Frankie's advice.

The hot water relaxes you and for a long while, you just stand underneath the stream, eyes closed and one palm resting on your lower abdomen, relieved that the shower is taking the edge of the pain, but you're still feeling swollen and sore. Finally opening your eyes, you reach for the shampoo just as the door opens and Frankie comes in. He’s wearing only a t-shirt and boxer briefs, and proceeds to shed these quickly before getting into the shower booth with you.

”How’s you, gorgeous?” he murmurs into your ear, slipping his arms around you from behind.

A little flutter in the pit of your stomach brings forth a smile on your lips, and you put the shampoo bottle away.

”Surviving.”

”I know you’re in pain but fuck, I love it when your tits and ass swell up like this.”

He moves his large hands to your ass cheeks and squeezes, before trailing his fingers lightly up your sides and to your front, covering your breasts. He’s a lot more careful with them than with your ass; experience has taught him that if he’s too rough when they’re tender, he’ll get punched in the face. (For real: you were once taken by surprise by his well-meaning but slightly too rough grip, the sudden pain making you startle in a perfect backwards headbutt. He got a nose bleed and you felt awful, but he felt worse, not from pain but for having hurt you.)

”It’s not as bad as it was two days ago. I wouldn’t even have let you touch them,” you let him know, the flutter in your stomach intensifying when Frankie brushes his fingers over your stiff nipples.

”I know, and it’s torture. They were bigger two days ago. But I just have to make do...”

He trails kisses down your shoulder, one hand staying on your breast and the other wandering down between your legs, finding your clit. You exhale in a soft sigh.

”I’m bleeding a lot," you warn him with a low moan. ”And I’m sore, Frankie, I... I don’t want you in me.” You feel awful for telling him this because you usually always want him in you, but right now, you would just be uncomfortable. It's not the blood, it's the overall uneasiness.

”Don’t worry baby, I know what you need,” he whispers in a low growl, his breath hot on your ear. You feel him grow hard against your butt, so your lean back, pressing yourself against his dick, just as he starts to rub your clit gently with two fingers. Sparks run up and down your body as you let out another sigh before turning your head so you can reach his mouth. You find it, but also get hit full on in the face by the shower, so you giggle and wipe at your eyes. Frankie chuckles as he redirects both you and the shower head before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like only he can, lightly but with commitment. You've never been with anyone who could kiss like Francisco Morales. Then again, you've never loved anyone as much as you love him, never wanted anyone like you want him. Never been safe enough with anyone to want them so much, so bad, so fully.

He pinches your nipple a little too hard, and you bite his lip in return. You both grunt and fall back.

”Sorry,” he smiles. You smile back.

”No you’re not...”

You reach behind yourself, find his dick, and start to stroke it. Frankie leans his forehead to the back of your head, breathing audibly, his hand working faster between your legs. You moan and find the wall with your free hand to support yourself. The dull ache of your cramps is now shadowed by the escalating pull in your groin and despite the hot water, your skin prickles over for a moment, your arousal manifesting in goosebumps that quickly disappear in the stream of hot water.

Frankie's breathing is shallow against your ear, echoing your own, both of you breathing more audibly, exhales turning into small, short moans as you take each other closer to the edge. You're finding it difficult to work Frankie's hard dick with your hand awkwardly reaching behind yourself, but he doesn’t seem to have any complaints. You think dimly that if this doesn’t work out, you can suck him off once you're undone. He’d like that. Or...

”Wanna cum on my ass, baby?” you invite him in a breathless whisper. ”Wanna cum on my round, soft ass?”

”Fuck,” Frankie groans, flipping a couple of wet, heavy strands of hair out of the way before kissing your neck and sucking into the skin. You hiss and do your best to jerk him off faster, but your hand is no longer functioning optimally as you're closing in on your orgasm. You don't want to grab him too hard, so you let go of him and braze yourself with both hands against the tile wall. Panting, you bite down on your lower lip and hold your breath –

– and release a low keen, a tiny shudder traveling through your body as the orgasm relaxes and tenses you up, simultaneously, wonderfully. Frankie doesn't give your clit a rest when he grabs his cock, taking over where you left off.

”Cum on my ass, baby,” you beckon him, breathless and still riding the waves of your orgasm, ”that’s it, cum on my ass...” You tense up again, your fingers clawing helplessly on the walls without finding a grip, and your legs shake as you mewl your way through another release.

Despite the flowing water from the shower, you feel the hot spurts of cum on your ass cheeks. Frankie curses in a strangled voice and releases your burning bundle of nerves, slapping both hands to your hips and pulling you to him, pressing a gasping, open-mouth kiss to your shoulder. You feel him tremble about as much as you yourself are and very carefully, you take your hands off the wall and put them over his. You lean back and feel his chest heave against your back. He murmurs in appreciation at the contact.

”Damn, baby.”

”Uh-huh.”

You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, gazing into those wonderful brown eyes of his.

”You’re so good to me,” you say sincerely. Frankie smiles softly, sliding his hands down to your ass.

”It’s because your ass is awesome,” he grins before dipping down to kiss you. ”And because I love you.”

He helps wash your hair, something he's done plenty of times before but still makes you purr with pleasure. You return the favor and it gives you the same kind of gratification to see how much he appreciates it as well.

After the shower, when you're dry, warm, and dressed in pj's, you go to the kitchen to put your rice heat pack in the microwave. Your cramps have subsided considerably, but you still want to keep your belly warm.

"You hungry?" Frankie asks, rummaging through the fridge. "You hardly ate anything."

"I'll have a cup of tea. Eating makes me so gassy," you grimace. It doesn't matter what you eat during your first two days on your period: your stomach turns upside down.

”Okay, baby." Frankie goes to the cupboard where the coffee and tea are stored. "The pink box?"

"Thanks, yeah, that's the one." You accept the box of tea from him, and your big teacup. Frankie fills the kettle with water and turns it on, before leaning against the sink.

"Wouldn’t want you to fart in your sleep all night,” he teases you with a little smirk. ”I’d send you to the couch immediately.”

”Here we go,” you sigh theatrically as you move into his embrace. ”Total asshole as soon as your dick’s back in your pants.” You kiss his nose before giving it a little nip.

”I was so good to you only thirty minutes ago," he reminds you, feigning offense. You scoff, but you also can't help smiling widely. He's always so good to you, every day. You can't believe your luck.

The microwave pings and you pick out the pad and grab your tea. On your way to the living-room for an uneventful rest of the night on the couch in front of the tv, Frankie catches you in his arms. Pressing his sharp nose to your neck, he inhales deeply and hums in approval.

”Feeling better?”

”If I say yes, are you gonna be a smug asswipe about it?”

”You bet.”

"Then no, I feel like shit." Sweetly, you bat your eyelashes at him. "You're going to have to make at least a bit of an effort."

"I like a challenge."

He follows you to the couch and not even half an episode of Parks and Recreation later, you're admitting that you feel a lot better. Another two episodes, and you're asleep against his side.

#my fic #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales x you

77 notes · View notes

pickalilywrites · 3 years ago

Note

Halu! I love reading your rivetra fics especially the heart skips a beat <3 you're such a great writer! was hoping if you can try to write rivetra modern au during the pandemic? :D

here you go~ ah, i always take a long time to write now, but at least it was out before the pandemic is over ^^" (as much as i would like it to be over ...) i hope you like it ~

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

Love in the Time of COVID-19

Rivetra. COVID-19 Pandemic AU.

9543 words.

Read on Ao3!

Levi Ackerman is hugely germaphobic and antisocial. For him, the COVID-19 global pandemic is simultaneously the worst and best thing that has ever happened. People have finally begun to wash their filthy hands, cover their mouths with the crook of their elbows when they sneeze, and wear masks over their mouths to slow the spread of airborne contamination. All non-essential workers have stopped going outdoors, which makes Levi look less like a recluse and more like a normal person.

Of course, even these basic precautions couldn’t stop the coronavirus outbreak from growing into a full-blown pandemic. Maybe if everyone were more like Levi — washing their hands for a full five minutes rather than the CDC’s recommendation of a measly twenty seconds, bringing around a pack of disinfecting wipes and wiping down everything he touches, and rubbing his hands with hand sanitizer at least three times after he touches anything — the world wouldn’t be in this mess.

The worst thing about this pandemic, however, isn’t the fact that people are taking the bare minimum precautions, but the people who aren’t taking any precautions at all. For every person wearing a mask, there are at least ten people outside not wearing a mask. Hell, there are even people dying in the hospital of COVID that are convinced this whole pandemic is a hoax rather than a mess of their own making because they refuse to wash their own hands. It’s because of these people that Levi has to be especially careful on the few occasions he leaves his apartment, stripping off all his clothes as soon as he walks through his door and tossing them in the laundry basket before he takes a shower with scalding hot water to kill off all the germs he may have brought home with him.

For the most part though, Levi doesn’t mind pandemic life. It’s a lot like his life pre-pandemic, but he disinfects everything twice as much as he normally did before COVID. As a data analyst, he hardly went into the office anyway and he didn’t bat an eyelash when his company declared that everyone would be working from home until further notice. With delivery services becoming more popular, Levi found it was easier to get things delivered to his apartment. Even his neighbors are bearable. People are too busy working to be a bother during work hours and by the end of the day they’re too tired to do anything except turn on Netflix until they fall asleep on the couch. Really, Levi doesn’t have a problem with anyone except the woman living in the unit next to him.

Prior to COVID, Levi wasn’t even aware of her existence. He sometimes heard about her from the chatty woman in the unit across from him. The nosy woman somehow miraculously knew when Levi (or anyone, really) would be coming out of their apartments, popping out and ensnaring them in a conversation that always seemed fifteen minutes too long.

The gossipy woman loved the person who occupied the unit next to Levi’s. Levi’s next-door neighbor had moved in a few months before the pandemic started and was never at home, the talkative neighbor explained, because she was an actress.

“An actress in the theater. Musical theater, darling,” the woman emphasized, her eyes as wide as saucers like being in theater was the most magnificent thing anyone could ever do. “Poor dear is never home though. If she’s not rehearsing or on a show, she’s working part-time jobs at the diner downtown.”

Levi didn’t think very much of it after hearing about the woman next door for the first hundred times. It wasn’t his business what other people did. Anyway, if the woman was hardly ever home, that was even better. Except now that there’s a pandemic and everyone is required to stay home, the woman is home almost all the time and if Levi hadn’t believed the woman had a career in theater, he certainly does now.

The woman likes to sing on the balcony after work hours. It’s considerate of her but somehow also very infuriating to Levi because he can’t complain that he’s working. She also stops at an appropriate time (usually 8 or 9 at the latest), so it’s not as if Levi can send in a noise complaint without feeling like a dick. He just has to grit his teeth and listen to his neighbor belt out “If I Loved You” from Carousel while he cooks dinner.

She doesn’t have a bad voice either. It’s just that it’s incredibly loud. He supposes if she were any quieter, she wouldn’t be any good for musical theater. Maybe his other apartment neighbors are elated to have a living Disney princess sing for them for free every night, but it’s grating to the ears if you’re living right next door.

He probably should have said something when she started singing more dramatic songs, songs that crescendoed and built into a climax that Levi could probably hear if he were living on the other side of the apartment. It’s those goddamn musical ballads that Levi hates the most. If it’s upbeat, at least Levi knows what’s coming but those ballads always have to build and build until the woman is belting out to the heavens.

Levi thought he could bear it. Surely, the pandemic would only last for a few more weeks or even another month or two, but new coronavirus cases kept climbing and Levi knew he’d be listening to entire one-woman musicals for the next year if he didn’t say anything. One night when the woman begins yet another musical ballad, Levi finally throws open the sliding door to his balcony and is surprised when he sees his next-door neighbor sitting cross-legged on her balcony, a pink floral mask on her face, and a guitar in her lap.

The woman stops strumming her guitar and looks up, her amber eyes wide with surprise. “Hi,” she says, voice slightly muffled through her mask. She waves awkwardly at Levi even though he’s frozen in place on his balcony and hasn’t made any move to greet her.

“Why are you wearing a mask?” he asks her as if he’s not wearing one too. It makes sense that he’s wearing one. He always wears a mask when he steps outside even if there’s nobody around. He knows most people don’t because they don’t see the point if nobody else is around, so why is she wearing one?

The woman’s nose scrunches up from under her mask while her eyebrows are knit in confusion. “We’re in a pandemic. Isn’t that why you’re wearing one, too?” the woman asks, gesturing towards Levi and then her own mask. She pauses for a moment as if thinking about whether or not she should continue. “Also, I heard you’re a huge germaphobe.”

“Who told you that?” Levi snaps.

“The lady who lives across from you,” the woman replies.

Ah. That explains a lot.

“But I don’t even come out here that regularly,” Levi points out.

The woman shrugs. “Just in case. It’s better to be safe than sorry anyway,” the woman says. “And it’s not like it’s a big deal to wear a mask.”

Levi’s not sure if it’s because he’s been stuck in his house for months, but he’s just fallen a little bit in love with this woman and it’s all because she said wearing a mask isn’t that much of an inconvenience. He doesn’t even know her name. After meeting for five seconds and realizing that she’s considerate for wearing a mask on the off chance that Levi might go out on the balcony, Levi’s starting to feel like a dick for coming out here to yell at her for singing too loud. She’s a lovely singer, really, and he should probably be thankful she’s not a part of a screamo metal rock band or something.

Levi fights the urge to disappear in his apartment. He slides the glass door behind him, trapping himself outside on the balcony and forcing himself to speak more with the woman. He’s not exactly sure what he should say. Should he ask her name? Compliment her singing? Ask her about how she’s handling quarantine? He sits down cross-legged facing her.

“What song were you singing?” he ends up asking the woman.

“Oh,” the woman says as if she’s surprised Levi’s still speaking with her. She looks skyward, trying to recall the name. “‘Please Don’t Make Me Love You.’ It’s from the Dracula musical.”

“Oh.” Levi hadn’t been aware that there was even a musical adaptation of the Bram Stoker gothic novel.

“Yeah, I know,” the woman says with another nose scrunch, her mask shifting upward from the movement. “There’s a musical for everything nowadays.” She hums a few notes and strums a few chords across her guitar. “But what about you? How are you spending your quarantine?”

“Me?” Levi repeats. “I just … am hanging in there.”

“That’s good,” the woman says. Levi can’t see her smile behind her mask, but he does see the edge of her eyes crinkle. She sets her guitar beside her and leans back on her palms. Her head tilts to the side and her ginger hair falls away from her lithe neck. “I’m Petra, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever formally met.”

That’s probably because Levi has never made the effort to be neighborly. In fact, the only reason they’re meeting right now is because Levi was going out here to complain about her singing, but he won’t mention that. Instead, he shrugs and says, “Levi.” It’s a lame introduction. Even he cringes at it, but Petra doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’ve never seen you out here, but maybe because I’m only on the balcony in the evenings,” Petra says. She picks idly at the guitar strings, letting their sound reverberate with every twang before she moves onto the next string. She stops suddenly and looks at Levi, eyebrow raised. “Oh, you didn’t come out here because it was too loud, did you? I know my voice is pretty … resonant, especially in a small space like this.” She winces apologetically.

Levi is thankful that his mask is able to cover the blush that is surely rising in his cheeks. “N-no,” he stammers. He sits up a little straighter as if this will somehow make him a less obvious liar. “I just … wanted some fresh air.”

“Mmm, makes sense,” Petra hums. Her eyes crinkle again and Levi’s heart does something weird in his chest. “Good to get some fresh air circulating in the apartment. I always have my air filter on nowadays too.”

Levi realizes with horror that she’s absolutely right. He usually keeps his apartment windows closed, opening them only in the early morning and the late evening for the fresh air. He hadn’t accounted for the lack of fresh air in the entire apartment complex. There’s no telling whose dirty air he’s been breathing these past months. Sure, he has at least one air filter in every room, but he can’t count on these machines to filter out every germ flying around the air. Why hadn’t he accounted for the poor air circulation through the building before this? He should have been keeping his windows open this entire time. The air outside is filled with germs as well, but the concentration of germs from other people who may or may not be spreading COVID within this apartment complex is much higher here than it is inside.

Levi stands up, grabbing the railing of his balcony for support. He feels a little dizzy right now and has the frantic urge to clean his entire apartment again even though he had cleaned it this morning. This time, he’ll be sure to deep clean the carpet.

“I have to go,” he tells Petra, but he doesn’t give her the reason. He doesn’t want her to think he’s an idiot for not thinking about air circulation sooner.

Petra raises her eyebrows as if she’s surprised and perhaps a little bit sorry to see him go. “Alright then,” she says. She picks up her guitar once more, strumming a few pleasant chords. “Have a good evening, Levi. It was nice meeting you.”

Levi pauses at the door. “You, too,” he says finally before he slips inside. He makes sure to leave the door open. The lack of barrier makes it easier for Petra’s voice to carry into his apartment. That’s not why he leaves his door open, of course. It's purely for the fresh air to come in, or at least that’s what Levi tells himself.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi does not know why the news of the woman next door intrigues his friends so much. He had casually mentioned her once on a video call with them and now they won’t stop asking him about her, constantly requesting updates on little tedious things like the songs she had sung the night before and if she still wears her mask. Even more surprising, Levi finds he can’t ignore their questions and answers each and every one. He tells himself it’s because he knows their curiosity will never be quenched until he answers their inquiries and it’s better to respond than to be bombarded with the same question a half dozen more times.

“So you guys talk to each other every night?” Isabel asks. She sits closer to her laptop and her face fills the little square with her name in the right-hand corner. Her hands sit in her hands and she has a thoughtful pout on her lips. “That’s a lot, Levi.”

“We talk to each other every night,” Levi points out.

“And you complained that it was a lot!” Isabel says, which is true. He would have been satisfied with weekly Zoom calls or even fortnightly, but Isabel had insisted that going so long without seeing Levi and Farlan onscreen would drive her mad. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case with this mysterious next-door neighbor.”

“She’s hardly mysterious,” Levi snorts.

“She’s right, though,” Farlan comments. He isn’t perched at the tip of his seat. Unlike Isabel, he’s less intrigued about Levi’s new relationship with his neighbor and more amused about the whole thing. “You’ve never been interested in people enough to have regular meetups with them even if it’s a ‘coincidental’ meeting on the balcony every night.” Levi despises the way Farlan uses air quotes.

“It’s very Romeo and Juliet,” Isabel says with a nod. There’s a silence at the other end and Isabel adds, “Because of the balcony. Except this time there are two balconies and nobody is dying. Hopefully.”

Levi rolls his eyes. “I just bump into her more often now that I go out to get fresh air now,” Levi explains. It’s a part of his routine now. Better to breathe good, clean (or at least cleaner) air than continue to breathe in apartment air that has been god knows where. “Which, by the way, you two should really consider as well. Who knows what germs are floating around in your apartment complexes?”

Isabel wrinkles her nose. “If that were a problem, I would have gotten COVID by now,” she points out, and Levi wants to groan. He doesn’t want to explain to her once more that, after exposure to the virus, contracting COVID is a game of chance and she’s just been lucky. There’s no telling how much luckier she can get as the pandemic continues.

“I’ll consider it,” Farlan says, and Levi is at least grateful for that. He taps his fingers on his desk. Farlan’s microphone is so sensitive that Levi can hear the tap, tap, tapping noise on the other end. “But that neighbor of yours … what do you guys even talk about every night?”

“I don’t know just … stuff, I guess,” Levi mumbles. He rubs at the back of his neck. He can’t quite recall what he and Petra talked about yesterday on their balconies. Their conversations always start out similarly with her asking Levi about his day and Petra asking about his, and by the time Levi retreats into his apartment he finds that an hour has already passed. After a moment, he says, “Well, she told me about how she was sewing face masks in her free time so that she could donate them.”

“Oooh,” Isabel coos. Her head is in her hands again and she looks starry-eyed. “This girl sure has everything, doesn’t she? Not only is she cute, but she takes COVID safety precautions seriously and she cares about other people? No wonder you’re so interested in her, Levi.”

Levi’s mind stutters for a moment. “When did I say she was cute?” he stammers.

“Is she not cute?” Farlan asks with a raised eyebrow.

Levi’s knee-jerk response is to say “no” just because he knows a “yes” will elicit more teasing from Isabel, but the question Farlan asks makes Levi realize that he’s never seen Petra without her mask off. Prior to this realization, Levi has never minded seeing Petra with a mask on. After all, they’re both still in a pandemic and, even if neither of them show visible symptoms of COVID, it’s possible that they could still transmit the virus from their minimal outings for groceries or other daily tasks that require them to leave the apartment. Now that he’s realized it though, he’s overcome with this strange desire to see Petra’s face behind the mask.

There’s only so much one can see of a person when they’re wearing a mask. Levi knows the top half of Petra’s face quite well: slender, expressive eyebrows, large eyes the color of amber, and even the dip of the bridge of her nose. Anything beyond that is a mystery to him, hidden behind the cloth of Petra’s mask. He doesn’t know what kind of nose she has, if it’s grand and shapely or sweet and button-shaped or adorably upturned. He doesn’t know the curve of her lips, if she has a well-defined cupid’s bow or thick, full lips the color of petals. Judging by the state of the pandemic right now, it’s unlikely that he’ll find out anytime soon and he can’t fathom requesting Petra take off her mask just to satisfy his newfound curiosity.

“I don’t know what she looks like,” Levi finally says.

Farlan snorts and Isabel erupts into peals of laughter.

“You’ve been talking to her for how long and you don’t know what she looks like?” Isabel titters. She’s even wiping tears from her eyes, although Levi doesn’t think the situation is that humorous. “It’s not like you guys are wearing hazmat suits when you sit on the balcony.”

“It’s not like I don’t know what she looks like at all,” Levi grumbles. “But we’ve been wearing masks this whole time whenever we’ve gone out on the balcony to talk to each other.”

“Aren’t your balconies, like, more than six feet apart? You guys could probably take your masks off and it’d be fine,” Isabel points out. She sees Levi open his mouth to speak and she rolls her eyes, giving him a dismissive wave of her hand. “Okay, fine, just wear your masks like the hypochondriacs you are! If it’ll make you feel better about the ‘sick game of roulette viruses play when infecting us,’ go right ahead!”

Levi scowls. He wishes he could kick Isabel out of the Zoom chat, but Farlan has forbidden Levi to do that after Levi cut short the first Zoom call he hosted and Farlan has been the host of their Zoom calls ever since. Thus, Levi has had to sit through various Zoom calls with Isabel mocking his informative lectures on infections and diseases. On the bright side, at least she remembers Levi’s lectures well enough to recite them back to him even if it is in a sarcastic tone.

In a tiny square on Levi’s screen, Farlan watches with an amused expression on his face.

“What?” Levi asks.

“You could ask her if she’s comfortable with taking her mask off,” Farlan suggests.

“I can’t just ask her that!” Levi splutters. He gets embarrassed at the idea of it — just outright asking Petra as if it’s as simple as asking her about the weather or what her favorite color is.

Isabel rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you’re asking her to take off her shirt or something,” she says.

If Levi’s face wasn’t red yet, it certainly is now.

“Ignore her,” Farlan says. “But, you know, it is just a mask and you keep yourself extremely safe and she adheres to the CDC guidelines pretty well from what you tell us. If you two are both comfortable with it, why not just ask?”

Because it’s exactly as they’re saying: it’s not like asking her to take off her shirt. In a way, asking her to take off her mask is infinitely more dangerous and intimate than asking her to take off any other article of clothing. COVID-19 is a virus that is spread through aerosol droplets from infected persons. By asking Petra to remove her mask, Levi would ultimately be asking Petra to lower her defenses to these droplets and increase her chances of getting infected. If Petra were to ask him to remove his mask, Levi isn’t sure he would be able to say ‘yes’ for these very same reasons.

It’s something Levi mulls over even after the call ends and Isabel and Farlan bid him adieu for the night. He thinks about it in bed, imagining a different COVID-infected universe in which he musters up the courage to ask Petra to lower her mask for him and she says yes, revealing a beaming smile behind her mask when she lowers it for the first time. For some reason, just thinking about her smile and how it might look — if she has bunny teeth that stick out, if she has a cute underbite, if her teeth are just a little bit crooked, if she bothers to put on lip balm under her mask or if she forgets and leaves her lips chapped — makes it difficult for Levi to sleep. He spends his night tossing and turning in bed, haunted by a smile he’s never seen.

The thought of Petra’s smile follows him into the morning and well into the day. It’s all he thinks about as he cleans his apartment in the morning, he writes line after line of code at work, and as he cleans it once more in the afternoon. It’s all he thinks about as he opens the door to his balcony for his evening chat with Petra. It’s all he’s thinking about as he sits across from her and she tells him about his day.

He’s not brave enough to ask her to take off her mask, but he keeps thinking of it. He watches the movement of Petra’s mask as her lips move beneath it. If he concentrates hard enough, he thinks he can see the trace of her mouth, can imagine the outline of her lips when she purses her mouth in a pout or when he thinks her lower lip sticks out as she ponders what to talk about next.

“When do you think we’ll be able to take off our masks?” Levi asks. He’s brave enough to ask this at least.

“Hmm,” Petra hums, and Levi swears he sees the shadow of her lips pressed in that thoughtful pout once more. It drives him crazy. “Maybe when enough people get vaccinated. It should be a few months? My friend mentioned it a little while ago. They said it’s amazing how quickly mRNA vaccines are being developed to treat COVID.”

Levi nods. He’s heard this as well when doing his own research, although the technical aspects of the vaccine and how it works to protect him against the virus are beyond him. Still, he trusts medical professionals more than he trusts random people on the internet swearing that vaccines are just a conspiracy theory.

“So if you were vaccinated and it was two weeks after your second dose … and you were only in the company of someone who also received their second dose two weeks ago … would you consider taking off your mask?” Levi asks. He doesn’t look at her, instead drawing circles on the floor of his balcony. He can feel the dust and grime coming off on his finger and makes a mental note to sweep and vacuum his balcony tomorrow morning.

“I’d consider it,” Petra says. When Levi looks up, Petra’s mask is shifted upward just the slightest bit and the corners of her eyes are crinkled. He wants to see her smile so much. “If the other person were okay with it, too, of course.”

“Of course,” Levi repeats, his voice a quiet murmur, and he leaves it at that because he’s afraid of asking more.

But he lets himself imagine that the vaccine will be out to the public soon and, once it is, he’ll finally have the courage to ask Petra if she’s willing to take her mask off. He lets himself imagine that she says yes. And he lets himself imagine that the first thing she does when she takes her mask off is smile.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi sits on the balcony with Petra at 1:58 AM. It’s the third night in a row that they’ve done this, sitting on their balconies with their masks on and the glow from their laptop screens illuminating their faces. Were Levi with anyone else, he would complain that this was an unreasonable hour to be up even if it is for the slim chance to snag a spot for a vaccine appointment, but because he’s up at this ungodly hour with Petra, Levi finds he doesn’t mind.

Technically, Levi doesn’t apply for a vaccine at this time. The rules are confusing, but he’s not supposed to schedule an appointment until certain other people have gotten their vaccines. People who are currently eligible are healthcare workers and essential workers. Petra, being a waitress in the food industry, is considered an essential worker and is thus eligible for the vaccine at this time. Is it irritating for Levi to watch other people get vaccinated before him? A little bit, but he’s glad Petra will soon get the vaccine. Unlike Petra, Levi works at home all day and is thus less likely to be exposed to the virus anyway. Even if he can’t book a vaccine appointment at this time, helping Petra book hers will help him prepare for scheduling his appointment when the time comes.

Petra yawns, using her elbow to cover her mouth even though she’s still wearing her mask. Levi feels horribly endeared watching her. She’s dressed in her pajamas — a cotton pajama set in black and white polka dot print and fuzzy cat slippers on her feet. Her hair is tied in a messy bun atop her head, stray locks of ginger falling around her face even though she wears a hairband meant to keep them away. Even as Petra continues to hit the refresh button, her eyelids droop and she looks as if she’s about to nod off to sleep soon.

“Abandoned slots tend to open up at 2 AM,” Petra murmurs to herself over and over. It’s like a mantra she keeps repeating, hoping that it’ll help her stay awake until she books herself an appointment. Levi doesn’t know how much it’s helping. “Abandoned slots tend to open up at 2 AM.”

“Should you really be staying up this late to book an appointment?” Levi asks. He hits the refresh button too, but the page remains the same. All appointments are full. “Don’t you have a morning shift tomorrow?”

Petra squints at him, concentrating as she fully registers his question. “Mmm, if I don’t get one at 2, then I’ll head right to bed.” Petra yawns again. As usual, she uses her elbow to cover her mouth. “I don’t know how people are booking their appointments so fast, but at least it seems like it’s a ‘first come, first serve’ type of thing. I heard it was worse at the hospital when they were first giving the vaccines out.”

Levi remembers hearing about it on the news and then hearing about it second-hand from Petra when she was talking about her doctor friend. There were some hospitals that determined vaccinations for their staff members by raffle, not even prioritizing doctors and nurses that were working first-hand with COVID patients. In the particular hospital that Petra’s friend worked at, COVID vaccinations were given out to higher-ranking doctors first regardless of whether or not they were working with COVID patients, which also caused a flurry of criticism from the hospital staff as well as media when the news broke out. The current system being used for front-line workers to get vaccinated certainly is inconvenient, but Levi doesn’t know what a better one would be.

“Just keep refreshing, just keep refreshing,” Petra says in a sing-song voice. She hits the refresh button robotically, but her eyelids are still drooping. Suddenly, she looks up, a little bit more awake than she was just a second ago. “Do you think my finger will fall off before I get an appointment?”

The mask hides the upward twitch of Levi’s lips. “I don’t think so,” he replies. He hits the refresh button and his eyes flicker to his screen. His eyes widen when he sees 10, 15, 20 spots open up at different pharmacies nearby. Quickly, he begins to turn his laptop around and points at the screen excitedly. “Wait, look!”

Petra takes one look at his screen and begins to tap around hers. She doesn’t even tell him that she sees them or thank him for alerting her because that would take a few extra seconds that might allow the appointments to fill up before she can claim a spot. Levi watches as Petra sits hunched over her laptop, the light from the screen allowing him to see how her brows are knit together in concentration as she types her information on the screen. She even has her insurance card ready beside her, filling in the necessary information easily. Levi doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone type that quickly in his life, and he normally hits 100+ wpm when he’s writing code.

Suddenly, Petra hits the enter key one last time and looks up. Her typing has halted entirely and she stares at Levi with a blank expression on her face. It’s difficult to tell whether she got the appointment or if all the available slots had filled up at the last minute. It’s just an appointment, one that Petra can probably book later this week if not tomorrow, but the anticipation is making Levi’s palms sweat.

“So?” Levi asks. He’s never felt like it was hard to breathe wearing his mask, but he’s feeling a little breathless now. “Did you get one?”

A beat passes. Then two. Then three.

Suddenly, Petra raises her arms, lifts her head, and lets out a yell that’s far too loud for 2 AM in the morning. It’s so sudden that Levi flinches, but he sees that Petra’s eyes are crinkled at the edges when she faces him again. “I got it!” she proudly announces. She’s swaying as she sits. She probably used all of her energy just booking that appointment. Considering how tired and sleep-deprived Petra has been for the past three days, Levi’s surprised that she hadn’t made a typo at the last moment and missed her chance.

He’s grinning from ear to ear, not that she can see. “That’s great. Good for you. When is it?”

“Tomorrow morning,” she says. Petra shoots him with an endearing finger gun and winks. It makes his heart flutter in the oddest way. She shuts the screen of her laptop and the blue light that was illuminating her face disappears. It makes it more difficult for Levi to see the lines and creases in her mask. It also makes it a little harder for him to imagine the smile hidden beneath the fabric covering her face. “I’m going to call in sick and come in for my appointment. I don’t care what my boss says. It’s better if I get the vaccine anyway even if I might get yelled at when I come in tomorrow.”

Levi furrows his brow. “Are you going to be okay the next day? The side effects …” His voice trails off.

“It should be okay,” Petra says with yet another yawn. She should really go to sleep, but Levi doesn’t have the heart to tell her to go just yet. “The side effects aren’t really an issue until the second dose, I hear. Although, some people who had COVID said the first dose kicked their butts. Since I haven’t had COVID, it probably won’t be a problem for me.”

“But you won’t go into work if you happen to feel adverse side effects?” Levi can’t help but ask.

Petra doesn’t answer for a moment, just looks at Levi for a moment before her eyes smile again. “You’re sweet,” Petra tells him, and Levi’s flustered. For some reason, he wants to deny it, to tell her that he’s just asking what any reasonably concerned friend would ask, but Petra speaks again before he gets a chance to. “Yeah, I’ll call in another sick day if I have to. Thanks for worrying.”

Levi is about to tell her that it’s not a problem. Of course, it’s not a problem because helping her doesn’t burden him in any way, but he bites his lip instead.

Petra stretches her arms above her head. She gives him another sleep smile, one that Levi can only see in her eyes again, and waves at him tiredly. “That was kind of fun in a hectic way. Thanks for staying up with me these past few nights.”

Levi fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt. “It’s so I know what to do when it’s my turn to make an appointment,” he mumbles. He cringes when he speaks. He doesn’t sound convincing at all.

“Then we’ll do it again when it’s your turn,” Petra says. She points her index finger at him. “It’s the least I can do after you stayed up with me. I should do the same for you.”

He tells her that she doesn’t have to, but Petra insists and won’t let him go back into his apartment until he agrees. They have an undecided date for when they book Levi’s appointment. Petra, ever the optimist, says that the system will probably be less hectic by the time Levi’s eligible, but Levi’s not so sure. Still, he feels quite content as he returns to his apartment.

Petra gets her vaccine tomorrow. Levi wonders if he should construct a care package for her when she comes back and leave it at her doorstep. Not anything fancy, he thinks, just the essentials just in case side effects hit: canned chicken noodle soup, tea and honey, Gatorade, and a small bottle of Tylenol just in case. That’s probably overkill though, Levi sighs. He can think about being nice and thoughtful all he wants, but he knows he’ll back out in the end because there’s a chance that he’s overstepping his boundaries. He should just play it cool. Play it safe. Just pop out on the balcony tomorrow night and ask her how it went, if she was nervous, if her arm hurts.

It’s fine. He doesn’t need to be her caretaker. It’s good enough that they’re neighbors, two people in a short-distance relationship of six feet (or more) apart, unlikely friends in this strange time. It’s too much for him to hope to find love in this time of COVID-19. It’s enough that they’re just two people helping each other stay safe from COVID and booking appointments together. Maybe in a month or two they can be friends who are fully vaccinated against the virus. Two people who still take precautions against the infectious disease but who can live life in a little less fear because their chances of contracting the virus are lowered to about 5%. Two people who can smile at each other without their masks on.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi gets his vaccine two months after Petra. Like many other people, he suffered few side effects from the first dose except for a sore arm the very next day. The effects of the second dose are far worse.

He was warned by Petra, who told him that the effects of the second dose were like getting hit by the flu virus and a truck at the same time. He was also warned by various anonymous persons on the internet that were kind enough to share their vaccine experiences on online forums as well as medical professionals that posted informative online videos on YouTube. No warning could have prepared him for how bad the side effects really were.

Levi feels the effects of the second dose ten hours after he returns home from his vaccine appointment. At first, his arm just aches and he feels slightly drowsy. He doesn’t think much of it, thinking that these effects are mild compared to what other people are experiencing. After a few more hours, his body feels terribly cold and his entire body is aching. Everything irritates him more than usual: the light streaming in from his balcony hurts his eyes, the rattle of the air vent is grating to his ears, and the pounding of his head makes him want to bang his head against the wall until he passes out. To put it lightly, he feels like shit.

Petra said she only felt some muscle pain and had a slight fever for a few hours, but Levi feels like he can barely walk. The night Petra had her second dose, she only came out for a few minutes to talk to Levi before leaving to sleep early, but Levi doesn’t think he can even manage that.

Lying on the couch with a blanket draped over his body and an ice pack on his head, Levi manages to reach for his phone on the coffee table and type out a brief text message.

Levi:

Staying in tonight. See you tomorrow if I feel better.

Petra:

🙁🙁🙁

I hope it’s not too bad.

Feel better soon!

I hope you feel better tomorrow 😊

Levi wonders what she means when she says she hopes he feels better tomorrow. Does that mean she hopes he feels better so that they can see each other tomorrow? Or maybe he’s overthinking it and she’s just being polite. It’s normal to say “hope you feel better” when someone is feeling awful, isn’t it?

He doesn’t want to think about this too much. He should just rest instead of mulling about what Petra’s messages really mean. With a sigh, Levi turns his phone screen off and leaves it face-down on the table so that he’s not tempted to check his texts every time he gets a new notification.

Levi settles down against the pillows on his couch and wraps his blankets around him. He’s already taken a Tylenol, but it has only managed to dull his headache and not get rid of it completely. His limbs still feel achy, although not in the unbearable way they did an hour ago. He wonders if he should eat something. He had downed a Gatorade when he first got home and then drank another bottle a few hours ago, but he hasn’t eaten much except for a slice of bread and half an apple. It would probably be best for him to eat something else, but he doesn’t have the energy to get up off the couch and prepare something. Even a packet of ramen feels like it would be too much for him to handle at the moment.

He tosses and turns on the couch until he finds a position that he doesn’t hate. He’s not sure how he’ll be able to sleep when he feels this uncomfortable. He thinks it’ll take him at least an hour or two, but he drifts off without realizing and doesn’t wake up until he hears the ringing of his doorbell.

Groggy with sleep and muscles still aching, Levi gets up from the couch, his blankets dragging behind him as he checks the door. When he looks through the peephole, he doesn’t see anything. He’s too tired to even be angry about someone ding-dong ditching his door and he’s too feverish to even wonder why somebody would ring his doorbell only to abandon his doorstep moments later. He’s about to walk back to his couch and collapse into another dreamless sleep, but the thought that he might have accidentally called for some takeout while in his post-vaccine delirium forces him to yank open the door.

There isn’t anybody in sight nor is there a bag of takeout. Instead, there’s a basket with a note on it. Levi bends down to read the neat script printed on the paper:

Hope you feel better soon! I made some food that might help since you’re probably not in the mood to cook for yourself. 😊

-Petra

Levi stands there and blinks at the basket of food, wondering if this is all part of his fever dream. Maybe he hasn’t woken up yet. Levi is sure he’s dreamed this all up, but his body hurts too much for him to be still dreaming. He’s about to go in and text Petra to ask her if she really had left the basket of food for him, but he looks up to see the apartment door across from him cracked open and his gossipy neighbor looking at him, only her eye visible. Startled, Levi quickly grabs the basket and shuts the door behind him with a slam.

He carries the basket with him to the couch, setting it on the table. When he picks up his phone, he sees he has over a dozen messages. Most of them, unsurprisingly, are from Isabel, but when he scrolls to the bottom he sees he also has one from Petra. He taps on that one first.

Petra:

Cooking post-vaccine sucks!! I know from personal experience 😥

Left you some goodies outside your door jic you don’t feel like cooking. I hope you enjoy!

If it’s from Petra, then it’s safe to inspect the package. Levi lifts the cloth covering the top of the basket and peers inside. He pulls out a colorful tumbler first. The container is a pretty and pastel peach color that fades to white at the bottom. On the side it has a label with the same neat handwriting the first note had. “Peach smoothie,” it says with the ingredients listed in smaller print at the bottom: peaches, banana, greek yogurt, almond milk, honey, vanilla & cinnamon. When Levi looks at the other containers, he finds that they’re labeled similarly.

It’s difficult to explain how Levi feels as he sits on the couch and eats the rice porridge Petra had packed. The porridge is still warm, steam escaping from the thermos when Levi had first unscrewed the cap. Earlier, he hadn’t been in the mood to eat, but now he finds he can’t stop as he shovels spoonful after spoonful of rich, hearty porridge in his mouth.

It’s warm, Levi thinks, and he continues to eat. He no longer feels the chills that had confined him to his couch and forced Levi to wrap himself in layers and layers of blankets. He just feels warm and content, the rich broth from the rice porridge filling his belly and warming him from the inside out. There are tender chunks of chicken breast that Levi devours hungrily and tiny pieces of julienned ginger that balance the porridge out with a kick of spice and just the tiniest bit of sweetness. Levi doesn’t remember the last time he’s eaten so well.

He feels … so content as he sits back against his couch, upright for the first time in hours. He nibbles on the apple slices had cut for him, making sure to admire the little rabbit-ears she had taken the time to carve into each one. In between sips of the peach smoothie, Levi ponders.

Is it normal for neighbors to make food for their neighbors when they’re feeling ill? Is it something good acquaintances do? Is it something friends do? The last one is possible, although Levi has yet to receive a care package from Isabel or Farlan. Then again, he wasn’t planning on sending them one for their second doses, although he’s seriously considering it after experiencing the second dose side effects firsthand. It could be that his post-vaccine delirium is causing him to imagine things that aren’t there: affection, fondness … love?

Levi downs the rest of his smoothie and decides to sleep it all away.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Levi does feel better the next morning, but he doesn’t feel entirely okay either. He feels … strange. While the symptoms he suffered from previously are now gone, Levi finds himself suffering from new ones. They aren’t as uncomfortable as everything he had yesterday — fever, body ache, chills, headache, to name a few — but they make him feel anxious nonetheless. He could be one of the few cases suffering from deadly side effects after the vaccine.

Like any person without a medical degree or a friend in the medical field, Levi takes to the Internet to find answers. He looks up all the uncomfortable symptoms he’s feeling: chest pain, heart palpitations, light-headedness. When he thinks he’s found a consistent answer among various medical sites, he immediately calls Farlan over Zoom.

“I think I’m dying,” he tells Farlan immediately after his friend picks up.

Farlan furrows his brow, his blue eyes filled with concern. “You mean … you didn’t manage to get COVID right before your second dose, did you?” Farlan runs a hand through his honey-blond hair, looking around his apartment for things he needs to drive over to Levi’s house: his wallet, keys, a first aid kit. “Are you okay? I’ll drive over there really quick.”

“No, no. Not COVID,” Levi says quickly. He rubs his hand over his chest. “It’s just … I’ve been feeling strange. I’ve been getting heart palpitations. Sometimes my chest hurts and I feel lightheaded. I think I might have myocarditis.”

Farlan blinks once. Twice. He takes a deep breath and then breathes out. Calmer now, he says, “I thought we talked about you self-diagnosing yourself with different diseases. Just because you’re a hypochondriac does not mean you’re qualified to make these types of calls about your health.”

“I’m serious this time!” Levi says. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? There are other people who have taken the vaccine and have developed pericarditis and myocarditis. I’m not being paranoid.” Levi admits to being quick to diagnosing himself with diseases in the past, many of which were probably impossible for him to contract in hindsight, but he doesn’t know why Farlan is scolding him for being careful about his health.

Farlan sighs. He leans back against his chair and rubs his eyes. “Alright,” Farlan says. He sits up. He doesn’t look angry anymore, just tired. “Tell me everything in detail this time and don’t leave anything out.”

“Well, I told you,” Levi says. “Chest pain and heart palpitations and dizziness -”

“And these all started right after you received your second vaccine?” Farlan asks.

“Yeah, I …,” Levi’s voice trails off. He pauses just a moment and realizes it’s not the first time he’s experienced these symptoms. He’s felt it once or twice before, these strange pangs in his chest and his heart fluttering oddly. “It happened before. When I was with Petra.”

Farlan smirks. “Well, congratulations. It looks like you’re not sick. You’re just an idiot,” he tells Levi and then adds, “and in love.” Before Levi can deny it, Farlan hangs up.

Levi is still spluttering at his screen when a message from Farlan pops up.

Farlan:

Ask her out.

Levi stares at the message even as a million little notifications from Isabel pop up asking him why he called Farlan without her. He thinks about the message. He thinks about asking Petra. He winces when the thought of it brings an odd, sharp pain to his chest, the same one he’s been feeling all morning.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Petra smiles when she sees him that night, her eyes crinkling the way they do when she smiles and her mask shifting upwards. Levi still doesn’t know what her smile looks like, but he’s imagined it every night for weeks on end.

“Feeling better?” she asks Levi. She leans against the railing, her arms resting on top. Levi stands his railing too, but he doesn’t lean against it the way Petra does. It’s perhaps the closest they’ve gotten in all the time they’ve spoken with each other. “The second dose is really something, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Levi mumbles. He wonders if he looks terrible, if his face is pale or cheeks flushed, if there are bags under his eyes, if he looks any thinner than he was the day before. He hopes he doesn’t look too horrible.

Petra rests her head on her arms, eyes looking up at Levi. “So what are you gonna do once your two weeks are up and you have the antibodies?” she asks. “I mean, don’t go crazy and crowd surf at an unmasked concert, of course, but maybe you could go out and eat at a restaurant if they have outdoor dining or something.”

“Actually, I was thinking of staying home,” Levi says. His palms are sweating already and his heart is doing that thing where it’s beating erratically against his chest. His head is feeling strange. There’s a chance that Levi might faint and fall off his balcony where he’ll fall four stories until he hits the ground. He almost doesn’t believe it when he hears himself say, “I was actually wondering if you wanted to eat dinner at my place once my two weeks are over.”

Petra’s eyebrows are lifted in surprise. Maybe if she weren’t wearing a mask right now, Levi would see her lips shaped in a perfect O. After a moment, she asks, “Are you really asking me to have dinner with you on your first night of being fully vaccinated?” Her tone is teasing. It makes Levi blush and he almost regrets asking her until Petra says, “I’d be honored. Do you want me to bring anything? I can cook pretty well.”

“If you really want to,” Levi says. He doesn’t know how he’s still standing. A part of him feels as if he’s still on his couch in a fever-filled haze, suffering from the effects of the second vaccine. There’s no way all of this isn’t a dream. Subtly, he wraps his arm around his torso and pinches himself in the ribs. It hurts too much to be a dream.

He’s two weeks closer to seeing Petra without a mask on.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The night of the dinner, Levi finds himself frantically running around his apartment. He took the day off work just to clean his apartment even though he cleans it at least twice daily already. This time, he’s taken the liberty of dusting off the corners of the ceiling and making sure to get all the dirt from behind the furniture. He’s even cleaned the inside of each and every cabinet, including the very top cabinets that are a bitch for him to clean.

It’s overkill, Isabel and Farlan told him. They told him to just treat it like a normal dinner, to just pretend as if they’re the ones coming over instead of Petra, but Levi can’t do that. The difference between Petra and his friends is just too vast. For one thing, he knows that Farlan and Isabel don’t mind a bit of dust, but he’s not sure the same can be said for Petra. Because is so careful in following COVID prevention guidelines, he’s sure she would appreciate the extra time he takes cleaning his apartment just for her arrival.

He couldn’t decide what to buy for dinner. He knows Petra had offered to bring some food over for tonight, but it feels rude to assume that she’ll provide a full-course meal. The problem with ordering food himself is that he doesn’t know what kind of food she likes. Mexican? Italian? Chinese? Indian? There are too many possibilities. He doesn’t know if she has any food preferences or allergies either, and he’s far too nervous to ask her. Levi doesn’t know how to cook for shit, so ordering takeout is the norm for him, but it’s different when you’re ordering for another person. In the end, he orders one dish from different restaurants hoping that at least one dish will be able to satisfy Petra.

Then there’s the question of what to wear.

“Just wear anything,” Farlan groans. He’s splayed out in his chair and looking up at the ceiling. He hasn’t looked at the past dozen outfits Levi has suggested. “Wear your all-black grunge number or a three-piece suit. I’m sure it doesn’t matter.”

“I can’t just wear anything,” Levi hisses. “What will she think of me?”

“You’ve seen each other at 2 AM with only pajamas on,” Farlan points out. He yawns, not bothering to cover his mouth. “I’m pretty sure you two know each other well enough not to mind the other person’s fashion choices.”

“You should wear those tight leather pants,” Isabel says. She leans forward in her seat, her head in her palm with her elbow resting on her knee. “With that see-through shirt. And put some hair gel in your hair. Also maybe put on some eyeliner.”

Levi blinks. “I don’t have any of those things.”

Isabel groans. “I know, your wardrobe is sooooo boring!”

He shouldn’t have asked Farlan and Isabel for their help. He ends up with a mask, a sky-blue button-down, his darkest pair of jeans, and more anxiety than he had this morning. Petra should be here any minute and he’s feeling strange again. The same symptoms as before plague him: dizziness, pains in his chest, heart palpitations. The chime of his doorbell is enough to make him jump out of his seat on the couch and almost fall on the floor.

Levi scrambles for the door, pulling it open. There Petra stands, mask on and a bag full of food she’s prepared for tonight. She looked nice more than six feet away when they were standing on their balconies, but she looks even nicer standing right in front of him. He’s about to say as much when he notices the door across from them open and his neighbor’s eye peep out from the crack. Startled, he pulls Petra in just as she’s saying hello and slams the door behind her.

He breathes a sigh of relief only for his breath to hitch in his throat when he realizes that he’s trapped Petra in between him and the door. They’re standing far closer than six feet apart. It’s closer than six inches apart. It’s even closer than six centimeters. He can count every strand of ginger hair on her head, every eyelash, every freckle sprinkled across her cheeks.

Startled, Levi stumbles backward and apologizes. “S-sorry,” he stammers. His cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment, the heat made worse with his mask on. “The woman in the apartment across from me was staring.”

“Oh, yeah,” Petra says. She looks behind her, although there’s no way for her to see the neighbor now that Levi’s door is closed. When she turns back, her eyes are crinkled. “She talks a lot, that one.”

“Yeah,” Levi mumbles. He stares at Petra. He can’t help it. There’s a smile hidden behind her mask. He can see it if he only asks. He’s closer to seeing it than he’s ever been. Soon, he’ll know what lies beneath. Cautiously, carefully, Levi asks, “Would you like to take off your mask?”

“Sure,” Petra says. She unhooks the elastics from her ears. She removes the mask from her face, looks at Levi, and smiles.

It’s more beautiful than Levi could have imagined: a dimple in her cheek, freckles sprinkled across her skin that her mask had always covered until today, and just the slightest overbite in her smile. It makes Levi’s heart do a weird flip in his chest, worse than he’s ever felt before. His palms are sweating and he’s feeling light-headed. He’s not sure he’s even breathing.

Breathlessly, Levi tears off his mask. “Can I kiss you?” The question falls from his mouth without him thinking. He’s about to take it back and apologize for being too forward, but Petra takes a step closer to him.

Her smile is dazzling, growing wider as Petra takes a step. Her eyes crinkle the way they always did on the balcony. “Sure,” she says and reaches to place one hand on the back of Levi’s neck before pulling him in for a kiss.

It’s perfect.

#rivetra #snk #covid 19 pandemic au #levi ackerman #petra ral #requests #asks #answered #anon #anonymous

37 notes · View notes

pretty-face-breaker · 3 years ago

Text

WIJ Prompt: Sleep

CW. creepy whumper, pet names, implied murder, blood stains, forced to get rid of evidence for a killer, past consensual torture, coercive relationship

@whumpmasinjuly

Timeline: A few months before Hayko escapes

— At its corner, the desk clock read 2:00 am.

The light of the lamp fell on his hand as he wrote, eyes skipping the document before he turned the page to give the pen a healthy shake. Then, it was from the top again with the court file number, judicial centre, applicant. Down until his hand hung off of the desk. He seemed to only breathe once a page.

He had been dealing with paperwork for the past few hours but for Hayko, filling in blanks was like second nature as riding a bike might be for someone. Just as they would know when to lift their hips for an oncoming bump, he knew where to push the nib hard enough that the ink wouldn’t swipe and smear the space. By muscle memory, he crossed every t and dotted each i but ensured, as each page filled up, to go back and check.

Two empty fruit bar wrappers sat near him beside an empty mug - all he had eaten since the single boiled egg and tea in the morning - which wasn’t his proudest meal plan but there was work to be done for next week. Crisis had struck. One of the cartel’s major benefactors was on trial for embezzlement.

He wanted to laugh.

Hayko sighed, letting the fountain pen click down before stretching up to the ceiling and then back. The exercise was useful when he needed a reminder that he had bones that weren’t made for crouching over a desk for hours at a time.

“Good morning.”

The seat almost toppled back as Hayko flinched and darted his eyes to the doorway of the other man’s room. “Jesus, you scared me, Nick.” He stood up quickly, fingers leaning on the desk for support when his head suddenly began to spin and his vision blacked out for a moment.

Looking at his figure in the doorway, they suddenly felt colder.

“Working late again, busy bee? You should be asleep.” Nick wasn’t moving from the doorway, just leaning on one shoulder and just out of the perimeter that the light would allow him to be seen. It was all too dark to tell, but Hayko felt like he was smiling.

He smiled nervously in response, dragging his hands closer to him. “Always.” They held a long look under the benevolent layer of darkness before Nick ripped it away by stepping forward, then again until the yellow light of the desk lamp crawled up to his face. When Hayko saw his face, he was silently surprised at having guessed correctly that he was smiling.

Then, he saw his shirt.

Nick must have noticed the immobile terror in his face because he chuckled. It rumbled in his ear, signalling a little involuntary shiver up the man’s back. “Don’t worry, doll. It’s not mine.”

His fingertips were chilled against the desk now as Hayko kept his eyes locked on the bloodstains, of which there were plenty, clotting near the buttons at the waist, splattered across his sleeves, and painting a grimly neat stripe up to his collar. The glaring light of the bulb brought out their faint redness but mostly, it looked like Nick had painted the shirt black.

“Th-... then whose?” He’d been meaning to ask. Hayko breaths mellowed as Nick began sliding off his watch and walking over. When it was off, he dropped it behind him with a thunk that made him blink. Right on the court order, too, he thought.

He should have been asleep by now. He should have gone to bed before he got home because then, he wouldn’t have to be dealing with him in the late hours. Nick was different at night, less human, and not in his humanity but his general appearance.

Nick’s hands travelled to his waistband and plucked the dress shirt from his pants, not hesitating to start immediately unbuttoning. For courtesy, he turned at an angle to the bed next to the desk, facing the headboard as he took off the stained shirt. His chest was splattered with fainter spots of blood. Those would be easier missed and Hayko was glad they were.

He finally found enough courage to bring his hands fully to his sides but not enough to look at him as he undressed, not out of disgust of the bloodstains but out of awkwardness. Never really figuring out where to look any time Nick undressed in front of him - although he probably would prefer it to be at him - Hayko let his eyes wander to the floor.

“Is that all you ate today?” Nick was looking at the empty wrappers and mug, skipping the pile of paperwork entirely in a way that made Hayko redden a little for the mess.

He anxiously scraped the tiny crack in the floorboard made by his chair. “Yeah, um... ‘didn’t have much time for much else.” While technically not true, he thought, it wasn’t that he had the appetite for anything more either. With the recent heat-wave that had overwhelmed the city, he could hardly remember to eat without Nick being the one to remind him. Like they were god damn married.

The man pulled his tie loose then swooped both off, tsking in disapproval as he hung them over his arm and faced Hayko. “You need to seriously take care of yourself, love,” he chided with a hint of warmth. “You have work, sure, but not eating?”

He found it harder to stare at the floor with Nick looking directly at him now. “Wasn’t hungry,” he mumbled, frustrated with the nagging while he stood there covered in a litre of fucking blood.

It seemed strange to him, even this far into this veil of a romantic relationship, that Nick insisted on playing concerned spouse and talking down to him in that voice thick with adoration. He hated it. But mostly, he hated how it tricked him every time, for a few moments, to believing that the concern was genuine.

That if Nick wanted to, he wouldn’t just break him in two for a quick, sadistic fix.

“What if I hire a chef, hm?” Hayko’s eyes travelled uneasily up to his, avoiding the body not out of embarrassment or modesty but the light bruising, the little scratches at his shoulders that indicated there had been a struggle.

He swallowed down the image of his victim clawing from below so he wouldn’t accidentally imagine his own face to fill in the blank.

“A nice one, family friend even, so you don’t starve yourself cooped up in my bedroom all day with your papers.”

“Your papers,” Hayko reminded him carefully. It was annoying when he couldn’t at least pretend to remember that he was his employer. But Nick just chuckled before handing him the shirt, tie draped over. His fingernails were black with blood.

“Do me a favour?”

The dried, metallic smell overwhelmed him and he swallowed as the scent lingered, reminding him of the uncharacteristically pleasant evening a few nights ago, how the stench had replaced the man’s sage cologne as he had looked over Hayko’s bare back. Looked over the cuts there and decided to open a few up again as he shivered and bit back whimpers.

He closed his eyes a moment, reliving the painful buzz his mind had been in, too clouded by chanting of more, more, more to say anything coherent until Nick had finished and planted a kiss on his neck and woken him up. Memories like those and how close they happened to each other sometimes made Hayko forget the nature of how he even got here but if he was honest in the moment, that one evening had...almost made it count.

Hayko gasped back to reality, snatching the shirt before Nick could snap at him. “Sure, yeah, I-I’ll throw it away.”

“Don’t throw it away, silly,” Nick interrupted as he turned to his bathroom. “Clean it. I like that shirt a lot, you know, you’ve seen me wear it to lots of those end-of-the-month parties Don Miguel likes to organize for us.”

Hayko seemed at a loss for just what to do with the bloodstained clothing in his hand when he noticed that it wasn’t just stained but bathed in life. The combination seemed heavier in his hand than any of his shirt’s ever had. He thought, with a stirring and morbid curiosity, just which of his fucked up methods Nick had used to squeeze the breath out of the-

“Did you hear me?”

He should have been asleep, and then he wouldn’t have to deal with this tonight.

“Nick-... I don’t think-” He stammered and motioned to the red cluster. “There’s too much… I don’t think I can, um, actually clean it with the amount of blood.” Waiting in silence for a response, Hayko unfolded the shirt by the shoulders, as if he hadn’t already seen the wreck. “Plus, a lot of it is dried. How long ago did you?...”

Sighing, Nick stopped and tilted his head. “You know I’ve got a couple of those enzyme detergents in the left cabinet of the other washroom. Multiple, actually, so fill up the sink and leave it.”

And with that, Nick nodded at him which was cue that it was time to stop asking questions.

When he stumbled through the living room, he noticed it was pitch black where Nick hadn’t even spared the bar lights to make his way to the bedroom. Only further proof that the man was a born predator, Hayko thought grimly.

He searched blindly for the light and squinted upon flicking it on. Nick may not have convinced him with the criticism of his diet but Hayko was starting to pay attention to the poor lighting he usually worked under.

The left cabinet revealed the detergents. Hayko took them out, one by one, and stacked them on the sink before opening the faucet. He took note to plug it before it filled up and shut the warm dial. The colder the better Nick had mentioned off-hand once on a night similar to this one, where Hayko had watched him scrubbing a shirt in the sink from the hallway, pretending the water wasn’t turning pink between his fingers.

He breathed once, the sharp smell of chemical piercing his nose, and sprinkled it in. The shirt went in next and then the tie and all he could do was stare at it, infatuated. He had watched a man come home from killing someone, taken his clothes, and stuck the evidence in heavy-duty detergent.

He was a fucking lawyer.

He didn’t sign up for this.

Where had the time gone for it to have gone this far, to be involved like this with a psychopath? Going from tied up in his god damn basement to playing boyfriend?

Sure, it had been a stupid mistake on his part but it was a mistake, all he had wanted was to live, and one verbal contract later, now watched blood merge with water.

The blood stained dress shirt stared back up at him disapprovingly. It probably thought he deserved it, Hayko thought faintly and the sudden rush of nausea almost made him double over and wretch into the sink.

The clock ate the time with ticks, and all Hayko did was stare at the shirt in the sink. Until he heard a rustle from behind. The man had probably finished washing up and just in time, too. “You should’ve been asleep.”

Nick was right, always right.

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