Tumgik
#despite how it might come across i get hit hard with that type of stuff it affects me deeply
somedaytakethetime · 2 years
Note
hey sorry if i missed something but why haven’t you been around here so often anymore like you used to?
Things just got a little bit too heavy for me. I had a few moments in there where I was just.. well, not doing very well so I stepped away. I'm still not really watching football but I'm looking at hot guys (guy really, I've since turned all my love to the one man I would love to wreck)
3 notes · View notes
prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years
Text
Finally | Corpse Husband
Requested? For once, yes! LMAO I hope you like it :)
Warnings? Nah
Summary: You and Corpse after being best friend's for years now finally break the distance
Word Count: 1,388
“Come on pick up pick up,” you whisper as you watch your phone ring over and over.
“Hello?” your best friend picks up and you grin widely.
“Corpse!!!” you yell and he flinches but smiles anyway.
“Guess where I am,” you continue.
“I don’t fucking know uh,”
“I’m at the car wash!!” you yell and turn your camera to show him you’re midway through the tunnel that washes your car.
“Okay?” he questions still uncertain as to why you insisted on calling him and telling him you were at the car wash.
“Remember I told you about the last time I was here,” you start, and realization washes over the older boy’s face.
“Oh my fucking god,” he groans and you laugh loudly. “You didn’t know how to put your car in neutral.”
“I figured it out this time!” you cheer loudly.
“I’m proud of you,” he says and you smile.
You realize you’re getting to the end of the tunnel and hold up one finger to Corpse, dropping your phone in the cup holder next to you. You put your car back into drive, cheering as you do so, and pull out of the cave-like building. You grab your phone as you start to exit, propping it up so you can see Corpse once more.
“And you even know how to put it in drive. My best friend is a fucking genius,” he says and you laugh.
“Shut the fuck up,” you joke.
As you drive, you tell Corpse about your day, happy to be seeing and talking to your best friend. You felt like you hadn’t talked to Corpse in ages, but really it had probably been two days since you last facetimed, and an hour since your last text exchange.
You and Corpse had been best friends for ages now, finding each other through the beauty of loving Machine Gun Kelly. You had fallen in love with the older rapper and his music just as Corpse was starting his youtube channel. You had been following numerous fan accounts and found Corpse’s with a decent following and a slowly building YouTube channel.
He had followed you back, and after a few interactions on the timeline and later in direct messages, you two never stopped talking. He trusted you with a face reveal, staking your life on the fact that you would never betray him like that.
Over the years you had only grown closer despite the distance between the two of you. Being across the world from each other sucked but it never really stopped the two of you. You had synced sleep schedules whether it was with you falling into California time or him falling into east coast time. You had tried your best to seem like you were closer than you actually were.
You both for a while were apprehensive to meet, and in general, were a bit too busy. You knew when you met you would want to spend the better part of a week or two together, finally enjoying each other’s company. You both made a million plans whenever you were on the phone, deciding that it was going to take you ages for you to get the things done you wanted to do at either your house or corpse’s.
You lay on the floor of your living room, your class had just ended and you were going to get up and get food but ended up on the carpet, trying to reach something. As you lay there, your phone rings, and you maneuver it out of your back pocket before swiping answer on the call.
Corpse’s face pops up and you smile wide at your best friend, it takes him a second, looking at your background before tilting his head in confusion.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I was trying to grab something on the ground and couldn’t reach it so I gave up,” you explain and you both end up cackling together.
“Anyways,” he says making you giggle. “I found out another thing we have to do together when you come here.”
“Wait let me get the list up,” you say switching apps to the note on your phone of the millions of activities that you and Corpse would complete when you would visit him one day in the future.
“We have to go to LACMA,” he says and you type it in the notes before switching back to facetime and giving your best friend a confused look.
“It’s an art museum I’ve always wanted to see. We can go and take pictures and be dramatic about the art,” he explains and you grin.
“Fuck yeah I love it,” you say.
Silence washes over the two of you, both of you having the exact same thought at the same time, thousands of miles away. Why couldn’t you two just be near each other? Your eyes try not to trail to each other, knowing any words might break the other.
“Hey,” he finally says and you look up at your phone again. “Come visit me.”
“Corpse,” you say and he shakes his head, defiance in his voice.
“Visit me. I’m sick of this distance. I miss you and I wanna meet you and hug you and complete the list we’ve been working on for years. Come on,” he says and every word has you more motivated than the one before.
“Are you serious?”
“Deadly. It’s time. Come visit me.”
You and Corpse had started planning the minute you had hung up the phone that night. How long you would stay, getting your time off work, buying the plane tickets, everything. You grew more and more excited as each part of the plan was solidified.
You had only a few days left till you got to see your best friend and your nerves were now at an all-time high. You sat in your room, double-checking that you packed everything and packed it perfectly. Your phone rings, your set ringtone for Corpse playing and you dive onto your bed as you answer it.
“Please tell me you’re not checking your suitcase again,” he says and you smile.
“I’m nervous okay, don’t tell me you’re not nervous,” you respond.
“I’m terrified. What if you’re secretly a murderer that has lured me into complacency after all these years?”
“Ooh that would be a good story,” you say and you both end up laughing.
“See you tomorrow,” he says after a bit.
“I’ll be there.”
Your excitement courses through you the entire ride to the airport, during the plane ride, and skyrockets when you step foot in LAX. You were a wreck, not being able to stop moving as you grabbed your backpack and carry on and bouncing nervously in the middle of the plane, wanting to run out as soon as possible.
You text Corpse, telling him you made it off the plane and he tells you that he’s at baggage claim. It hits you like a ton of bricks, that your best friend was in the same building as you, and that you’d finally be with him after all this time. You’re practically running through the airport, finding the correct escalator, and making your way down.
As the escalator moves slowly down you look around anxiously and there you spot him. Corpse stands not too far from the escalators, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in hand and a messily written but absolutely adorable sign with your name on it. You’re beaming so hard your face hurts and as if he can feel your gaze his eyes lock with yours.
His smile reflects yours, and without thinking, you book it down the escalator. You drop your things, your brain focused on Corpse and getting to him. Corpse drops his stuff too, running to meet you and a laugh escapes you, just as you crash into each other.
Your arms wrap around his shoulders, his grabbing around your waist and you both teeter back and forth in the hug. Part of you wants to pull back, look him in the face and finally see him but nothing, nothing could pull you from his touch. You press your face into his neck, your heart pounding as you breathe in the scent of his cologne, and smile wide.
“Finally,” he whispers into your hair and you giggle.
661 notes · View notes
sweetpxxches · 3 years
Text
I got time. [Hank x AFAB Reader]
Contains: Smut, fluff, mild blood stuffs.
The reader is AFAB but goes by gender neutral pronouns. 
The first fic I post here and it’s just me being a simp for Hank as of late my lords above don’t look at me and my shame but enjoy it anyway LMAO
Tumblr media
Somewhere, in Nevada, settles a group of mercenaries that managed to crawl their ways into a hideout where there was a scarce amount of grunts and guards that were on the hunt for them. You were there, laying flat on a worn down couch breathing lightly, though wincing through your teeth every once in a while as Sanford was bandaging a gashing wound on your back. You cursed under your breath unsure of how long the pain was going to last, the feeling of your skin burning was unbearable, but alas it finally was over when Sanford lightly patted your hip and getting off of you with a “You’re good to go,” and turning over to Deimos who was asking for a smoke. It’s been a rough week, with Hank going solo in most of his tasks there wasn’t a lot to hope for at the end of the day. But knowing him, he’s certainly doing just fine and if more, having the time of his life doing what he loves most. Sometimes you wonder if he even thinks about you. “Hey, Mercenary.” Deimos called out to you. You sat up grumbling, rubbing the now bandaged wound as you turned to gaze over Deimos, who was slumped by a window, legs spread apart on a chair puffing smoke out to the direction of the open window.
“Yeah?” Was all you could say. Deimos held his cigarette in his mouth, using his hands to gesture out the window. With that silent statement was all you needed to know that Hank’s finally made his way back to his crew. You sprung up only to pause midway from the stabbing pain you forgot existed, and held your side to keep going forward. “Settle down, hot shot. I’m sure Hank’s coming in on his own.” Deimos snickered, puffing the smoke through his mouth as he tips his hat over his eyes, leaning back to relax. You pouted at him, but your head jerked back when you heard the door open, Hank standing there to see his crewmates doing just fine. Immediately, you rushed over to hug the behemoth of a man who you could only level at his chest. Because of the tough muscle, it didn’t really make Hank budge much from you just practically attempting a tackle-hug on him. “Hey, you.” Hank simply stated, ruffling your hair as he closed the door behind him. “I haven’t heard from you in a while, but that’s what I’d expect since I’ve been fucked over a few times from those grunts.”
“Good to see you back, Hank.” Sanford welcomed, who was cleaning his hook by Deimos. “Anything new?” “Just a few files of past conversations between Sheriff, Jebus, and the Auditor.” Hank held up folders, tossing them over to Sanford as he slumped into the couch you sat on before, stretching back and leaning his head back. “I’m starting to wonder where these fuckers are making their planned dates these days, just seeing them talk all that talk and yet have their dogs do all the dirty work annoys me.” Sanford huffed, looking down at his weapon. “Yeah well, it keeps them busy being idiots while we find more about what’s going on behind the scenes with them. How’s the conditions with everyone?” Hank asked. “Deimos nearly lost a leg, but he’s recovering, Mercenary’s back got gashed but I handled the wound, nothing too extreme. I did fine so far.” Sanford replied, though Hank looked over to you. “Shit, you getting rusty with the whole ‘look behind’?” Hank teased, poking your head as you puffed your cheeks.
“Don’t start playing with me, it’s bad enough that I’m hurt as it already is.” You retorted, settling back down on the couch, cursing under your breath once more as you felt the stinging. Though you couldn’t help but personally scoff at Hank’s obvious worries being plastered as banter. He’s not really the type to show his worries over anyone, even to his closest comrades. Deimos hummed, looking over to Hank. “Hey, you think we can call this a small break for us all? I’m beat.” You sighed, nodding at his response. “Yeah, Deimos is right, I’m exhausted, and I ain’t going to run around with this back ache.” It wasn’t long until Hank lazily waved off of the statements. “Alright, alright, I’m sure we can call this a night for us all.” With that, the group sighed in relief. “Thank God, in that case I’m gonna go call it a night, I ain’t gonna miss this opportunity of sleep.” Deimos stated, hopping off his seat as he burned out his cigarette, flicking it off to the floor. Sanford watched him leave, and began to sit up himself. “I’ll be spectating the area, that way in case anyone gets too close I’ll take them down and give you guys the que.” He stretched, grabbing his hook and a rifle in both hands making his way out the door. Deimos went upstairs, and Sanford was outside. Which then left you and Hank.
It was kind of awkward at first, you weren’t sure what you wanted to say or even do, but Hank looked over to you. “What about you? You’re the one that’s been complaining all night.” He smirked, and you lightly shoved him. “Oh, shut up. I don’t have time for your uncalled for bullying.” You joked, but he seemed to be watching your every move. You weren’t so sure if this was just him taking the joke too seriously, or there’s something going on his mind. But he shrugged it off, leaning on the other side of the couch, hands behind his head. “You talk too much sometimes, you know that, right?” “Look who’s talking.” You crossed your arms, raising a brow. Where was he even going with this? You weren’t sure. Or were you overthinking things? Then again, just look how he’s behaving, it’s almost as if...
“Hey, eyes up here.” Hank tilted his head, raising a brow back at you. You snapped out of it, cheeks flushed. “Hey, shut up!” You didn’t even know what to say for yourself other than you may be looking at Hank a little more than you should. It was a moment of silence, you looking away and leaning on the other side of the couch, ignoring Hank’s curious gaze. His red tinted glasses shined, and he sat up. “Hey, you’ve been acting pretty weird as of late. What’s going on in your mind, Mercenary?” He asked. You turned your head to him, “Nothing! I’ve just been stressed and exhausted from all of this, don’t you know how tiring it is at times? Actually, don’t answer that. You’re never tired.” You then turned back, but Hank scoffed at you. “Someone’s feisty. Listen, I can get a good guess as to why you’re acting this way, and it’s because you missed me, wasn’t it?”
Oh, you hated how right he was. With a furrowed brow, you eyed at him, but not turning completely just yet. “What’s it to you?” You simply put, and he knew where this was going. “Listen Merc, I know you hate my guts whenever I turn away from you, but I promise ya it isn’t because I want to, it’s just I’m a busy guy.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, and your tension let loose immediately. “I know Hank, but it’s just it’s hard to do things without you.” You then turned completely to him, who was already close to your face, and that caught you by surprise. “What, can’t do things on your own, sweetheart?” Pet names. He’s giving you pet names now. May Jebus save your soul now. “It’s not that, it’s just...”  “It’s just what?” He continued, fixing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You couldn’t even make eye contact to hose red tint shades. “It’s just... I miss you too much to last without you for that long, Hank.” You finally admitted, sighing in defeat. Hank lifted your chin, and tugged you close. “Babe, it’s okay. I promise you that’ll be the last time I keep you away.”
“For now, isn’t it?” You replied.
It was silence at first. “Yeah. But it’s the thought that counts, right?” Hank said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, even if it hurts to know he might do this again eventually. But that’s later, and this is now, and you can tell Hank is thinking the same way. It wasn’t until he tugged his bandana off his chin, revealing that grotesque zombie-looking metal jaw. But to you, you found that the best thing about him. “How about I’ll make it up tonight with something special?” Hank brushed his nose against yours, feeling your soft breath against his. “... But aren’t you going to be busy?”
“I got time. Take that armor off, Mercenary. I’m gonna make up those days I missed you.” Did he just admit he missed you just as much?
You couldn’t even process that, because Hank immediately filled the gap to give you a somewhat sloppy kiss, of course with him lacking lips, you couldn’t really make way with it, but that’s not what he had in store, it was that tongue he holds. You shuttered as you felt it glide across your lips, wanting to get into your mouth. You didn’t hesitate until you began unbuckling your hefty armor, letting Hank take over. You gasped as he slid his tongue passed your lips, his drool dripping onto your chest but you couldn’t care, the mess wasn’t gonna get any cleaner anyway. His massive figure mounted above you as you leaned back onto the couch, letting his large hands gently caress your sides as you wrapped your arms behind his neck. However, despite it, you flinched at the wound causing you pain, but Hank knew he had to be careful with it. He didn’t want you to hurt throughout, so he decided to keep his hands gentle on the grip of your sides. 
His tongue reached every inch of your mouth, circling it with your own tongue as you grew desperate for him to touch you further. You held your head back as he began to bite down on your shoulder, hands beginning to venture more around your body.
“Hey, you won’t be getting just war scars now, huh?” Hank joked. “Just shut up and fuck me up, Hank.” You ordered. That hit a certain spot in Hank, making him want to do just exactly that. He didn’t hesitate any further, grabbing your bottoms with a swift tug down, letting you move your legs to take them off. He wasn’t the type to take off his own clothing, but when it comes to his partners, that’s a different story. He kept one hand on your hip as the other made way under your lower garments, large digits gently caressing your slit as he kept his head nestled between your neck and shoulder, enjoying your scent as well as your soft sounds. “Didn’t take long for you to get that wet, huh? Just how long have you been thinking about me? About this? You’re a wonder, Merc.” Hank teased, biting your ear as his two fingers spread your slit open, making you gasp as his middle finger lightly rubbed your clit. He wasn’t the most experienced, but when it comes to trying to find the right spot, he does it well. The feeling of your lower hips jolt as he kept a caringly pace with rubbing your clit had him wish he could devour you whole, but patience was what he needed. 
Hank leaned back, moving himself down to position himself between your legs, your gaze almost begging for him to continue, and it wasn’t long until he took your beckoning as his long yet slender tongue made way to press against your cunt. You held your head back, keeping your volume low so you don’t get Deimos’s attention. But with the feeling of Hank’s wet tongue circle around your clit more efficiently than his fingers did, it was hard to keep it to yourself. It was a little bit of a hassle knowing there’s really nothing there you could get a hold of on his head, with a lack of hair and all, but there was an attempted to hold his head down, making him grunt as he knew what you’re asking for. His tongue slid down, pressing itself inside your cunt. The feeling of it made you quiver, Hank feeling your walls shutter from the tension his tongue was giving. This man was practically spoiling you, feeling your toes curl as you raised your hips at Hank, but he held you down so he can do most of the work. A fair share between you two, and you were already getting at your limits. Hank noticed your body shaking up, and he held back himself once more only to hear you whimper. Gods, he loved how sweet you could be. “Easy there, I’m not gonna leave you hanging.” Hank settled himself between your legs once more, this time he was unbuckling his belt and proceeding to unzip his pants. You bit your lip as you saw his large girth of a cock was pulled out, it was obvious he was growing impatient. He settled your legs around his hips, of course keeping mind about your wound. It was adorable how caring he can be with you.
He leaned over, his head pressing against yours as he began to position himself against your wet entrance, you didn’t even know what to say. Just seeing him above you, his muscular figure taking hold of you and taking what is yours his own, it drove you crazy. But he wasn’t being selfish with his affection, he knew he needed you just as much as you did. You held onto his shoulders, embracing it as his cock head pressed against your cunt, then slowly and surely, it broke way inside you. You winced, his hands on your hips to keep you put. “Are you doing alright there, Merc?” Hank whispered in your ear. You could only nod, and by god you didn’t want to speak any time soon. If you opened your mouth, you’d be gasping and moaning, and it’s already a chore keeping it down. Hank’s chuckle was heard, a low rumble in his chest as he began to move his hips slowly and carefully. You kissed his neck, feeling yourself stretch from his large girth, it was surprising you could of even managed to handle it this well. Hank could hear your small moans, and he hoped the volume will get louder, not caring if the other mercenaries could hear them. “Come on, Merc. I know you have a lot more in you, don’t have to be shy.” Hank cooed, his hands brushing up to give your breasts a soft squeeze, you looked away, trying to ignore him. But this just gave him a challenge.
“Merc, come on.” He spoke up, his hands now sliding under your shirt to fondle your breasts better, your cheeks flared up with a crimson red as he began to pick up the pace. The wet sounds of his body meeting against your own was growing loud, the sheer lewd sounds was driving you both wild. You couldn’t help but hold your head back, a moan escaping your lips. “That’s it, just like that. C’mon and do it louder.” Hank retorted, as his hands went back to your hips, moving your body against his, letting his whole shaft reach the ends of you. Your eyes widened, a loud squeak was heard out of you, and it made Hank laugh. “Good, that’s what I wanted.” Hank snarled, his pace now getting vigorous and desperate. He wasn’t slowing down for you, and you tried to grab his back, clawing at what you could. Now it’s finally reaching it’s point, you began moaning like no tomorrow, your volume was loud and you felt Hank became balls deep inside you, your walls tightening as he kept up the rough pace. “H-Hank, holy fuck Hank, calm down!” You plead, but he didn’t seem to hear you, the sound of the couch creaking as the hard wet slaps continued, you were seeing stars at this rate. But he wasn’t done, feeling himself get close, he placed one hand down to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to thrust. You groaned, feeling yourself beginning to come undone. “Cum for me, baby.” Hank requested, and you did what he told you to. Your body jolting as you reached a climax, but as you did so, Hank slammed himself deep inside you, releasing his thick warm ropes of cum inside you, the amount was overwhelming that it spilled out of you, your moans being muffled with Hank’s tongue making back way into your mouth.
It was a few moments, and Hank held his head and body to see his work. You were dazed, staring at the ceiling. “Seems like I overdid it, huh?” Hank asked, but you just weakly held up a thumbs up, simply saying “You did great.” As you grew limp, exhausted. Hank scoffed, slipping his cock out of you and watching the excess of cum leak out of you. As he pulled his cock in and zipped his pants, he scooped you up to take you upstairs. Settling your sleeping body on a bed, and he turned over to see a Deimos, disgruntled at them.
“Can’t you two be more fucking quiet next time?” Deimos stated, laying back down on his own bed. Hank could only chuckle at him. “Guess I’ll get louder next time just to spite your ass, Deimos.”
Meanwhile, Sanford outside could only be unsurprised at the fact you and Hank had fun while he was out drinking and keeping check of the area.
226 notes · View notes
mosshead-lover · 3 years
Text
A to Z with Capt’n Levi
Levi Headcanons
Tumblr media
A/n: I was suddenly short of words when I was writing this. Lol. I managed to finish. Lemme know how you like it, okay? * Baby bear face*
A: Attention - Loves getting attention from you, especially when swarmed with work, when you offer to make tea or a back massage, or even take care of his hardness. He loves them all equally.
B: Books - One of the traits Levi admires in you is that you read. He often offers to read to you and asks you to correct him if he mispronounces something. Since he grew up underground and never had access to proper education, he is kind of conscious of his spellings. The grave expression he makes as he starts reading makes him look like an innocent kid that thinks he is on the most critical mission of his lifetime.
C: Chivalry - The Captain is chivalrous, indeed. He often brings you flowers. All white, however. He believes in the purity of love and which other colors can signify it better. Moreover, it's his favorite.
D: Dirty Talk - Levi sucks at it, okay? His blunt honesty doesn’t aid the fact.
You: So, you have been accused of damaging someone’s private property, causing flood after flood. I must take you into custody(eying at the bed).
Him: Oh.
You: (trying to keep up) Will you take a look at the damage you’ve caused?
Him: Sure.
E: Enthuse(what excites him?) - It may sound cliche but, You calling him *Captain* when alone is the biggest turn on for him.
F: Foreplay - Levi likes feeling every inch of your body before he gets on with the actual business. He nibbles and kisses the most random places, making your body ask for more, slowly making his way to the sensitive parts. So, You tell me, who’s the king of foreplay?
G: Gifts- Levi doesn't wait for an occasion to get you something, nor do you. If you come across a vintage teapot or a new cleaning tool, you pick it up immediately. Likewise, if he finds something that you’d use or look good on you, he is bringing it home.
H: Hugs- Levi isn't much of a hugger but offers to when you are super low and need comfort. Levi always rests his chin on your shoulder when he hugs you. Back hugs, on the other hand, are very common to him. Especially after a long day, he wants to come home to your warmth and nothing else.
I: Ideal Date- Levi has enough adventures at work already so, Home dates are a luxury for him and you. You begin with morning tea and a little chat. You cook breakfast together and clean too before hitting the bedroom. Aftercare includes a shower, hair drying, and a little snack followed by his wholesome tea. You might go on a small horse ride or a walk in the evening.
J: Jealousy - Levi doesn’t show envy. If something is bothering him, he will be honest with you about it. But, he is sure to lose it if someone stares at you or makes you feel uncomfortable.
K: Kill - Would he kill for you? Ack. You know it already!
L: Liquor (Do you get drunk together?)-
Occasionally you do. Levi seems to hold his booze quite well. Levi does enjoy watching you get drunk and go berserk. Of course, he is there if things go out of hand. That's why you drink crazy in the first place.
M: Massages - He is on the receiving end, mostly. Since he stays awake late at night working, you often offer him shoulder massages.
N: Nos(Turnoffs) - Not addressing the elephant in the room, untidiness, and cold tea.
O: Ogle - Was he ogling you before you got together? Yes. Does he still do? YES! and you love it when those bluish-grey deep set of eyes check you out like it's the first time. The captain’s eyes speak louder than his mouth, and you're more than okay with it.
P: PDA-Levi isn’t a fan tbh. The most you do is hold hands in public except on the last Valentine's day when you were crossing the bridge. The atmosphere was so irresistible that you had to kiss him.
Q: Quarrel- Like any other couple, you have your differences too. Friction between you two is mostly because of Levi’s poor work-life balance and his OCD. Nothing that can't be taken care of before the day ends.
R: Roleplaying- Housekeeper and the owner any day. Oh, and you switch the roles too. Guess who looks darn cute wearing that white lacy headpiece?
S: Snuggles- Does he get Cozy with you often? Not really. Not that he doesn’t like it, it’s just that he can’t initiate. He never discourages you from snuggling up to him. You spoon most of the winter nights.
T: Tickle - Is he Ticklish? Surprisingly Yes. Humanity’s strongest soldier is also one big ass sensitive baby. A Tickle battle is one of those rare things that gets a peal of laughter out of him.
U: Underrated part- His butt! His sinfully sexy butt. You often kindle him by whacking that piece of art. His reaction is worth a million dollars.
V: Variety - Who brings in variety in the relationship? You, Definitely. You are always trying out new stuff. Thanks to his honest feedback, it’s easier to find something you both like, sooner.
W: Walks- When Levi doesn’t have to jump right back to work after dinner, he asks you to go on walks. They are the best. You get to catch up with each other’s day, and Levi is usually in a good mood post walks.
X: X-mas - Well, Christmas is just a decoy. What is more important is his birthday, which falls on the same day. He doesn't like celebrating or even remembering it. The last time you baked a cake and wished him, he said.
”I see. You're eager to celebrate me getting another year closer to death,”
You stopped bothering him since then. You still decorate the house, bake his favorite cookies, and dress up. His birthday coinciding with Christmas is a blessing in disguise, after all.
Y: Yes - Stuff that might seem annoying but, Levi doesn’t mind- A little goofy-ness, snapping at him, messing up his hair, and mimicking him.
Z: Zzzzz/Sleep - What type of a sleeper is he? Levi doesn't snore but moves a lot in his sleep! Often he wakes up in the middle of the night, settles on a chair for the rest of the night. Despite you assuring that throwing his limbs around in sleep does not bother you.
———————————————————————
Check out my New Year’s Levi list:
Eleven Minutes in Levi Heaven
———————————————————————
Click the bear to checkout my other work:
    ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
———————————————————————————————————
709 notes · View notes
timelesslords · 3 years
Note
Can u pls write a percabeth fic where Percy and Rachel are dating and percabeth are best friends and they end up spending the night together and it's been a week and they don't know how to tell Rachel and Rachel being bitter ?? Pls
This was kind of out of my comfort zone in terms of what I usually write lol but I tried my best!! I imagine this as like a mortal college AU :)
send me a prompt!
“Beth, you can’t walk home like this,” Percy said, exasperated.
“I’m fine! I’m hardly even drunk,” Annabeth said, trying (and failing) to quash the butterflies in her stomach when he called her Beth. Percy, having been her best friend for almost a decade, was the only person in the whole world who was allowed to call her that. He only pulled it out in rare situations, and every time he did Annabeth would swear her heart skipped five consecutive beats.
Not that he could ever know that, of course. Now felt like a more precarious situation than most-- she’d come over to his dorm so they could watch a movie together, and had ended up curled up together on his bed around his laptop. In fairness, his dorm was tiny and there was nowhere else to sit besides his bed, but if Annabeth imagined really hard she could pretend that it had all been completely intentional, and he was sitting this close to her because he wanted to.
“Hardly?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow. And, fine. Annabeth had had… an amount to drink. A non-zero amount, some might say. More than Percy, and she had a way lower tolerance than him. She was buzzed, sure, but not buzzed enough to walk back across campus to her own dorm.
“I’m fine. It’s barely twenty minutes,” Annabeth protested. She started to stand up, but Percy gently tugged her back into the bed. She should have put up more resistance than she did, but, well. Who could blame her.
“It’s also three in the morning and you’re drunk,” Percy said, “Come on, just stay the night.”
“Stay where? Grover’s bed?” Annabeth asked, repressing giggles at the thought. It wasn’t really that funny a thought, but, well, she was tipsy.
Percy’s roommate was gone for the night to visit his girlfriend, leaving his bed empty. Grover was a cool guy, but he also had a weird tendency to leave soda cans just about everywhere, including in his bed.
Percy just rolled his eyes. “No, here.”
It took Annabeth a few seconds to realize exactly what he was saying.
“In your bed?” Annabeth asked, hesitantly.
“We’ve been sitting on it together all night,” Percy pointed out.
“Yeah, but…” Annabeth trailed off.
It was different. She knew it was different. And frankly, any other time she’d be absolutely delighted that Percy was offering that difference, but there was also the issue of Percy’s girlfriend. Percy’s girlfriend, who he’d met their freshman year and hit it off with despite the fact that Annabeth had been in love with him since she knew what love was. Percy’s girlfriend, who was in another dorm on campus not ten minutes away, not here but also not not here.
“But what?” Percy asked. There was the tiniest bit of a smirk on his face, and Annabeth shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes.
“You know what,” she said. Maybe it came off a little more seriously than she’d meant, but he didn’t seem to care.
“It’s not like we’d be doing anything,” Percy said. Annabeth tried not to feel hurt at how foreign the concept of “doing anything” seemed to him in relation to him and her. But she didn’t have any right to feel any type of way about that, because she and Percy were just friends and Percy had a girlfriend who was not going to be happy about Annabeth spending the night in his bed, regardless of which activities did or did not take place there.
“Yeah, I know, but its just… I don’t know, don’t you think Rachel will be mad?”
“You’re staying here because you need a place to crash. She can’t be mad about that.”
“I’m pretty sure she could find something to be mad about,” Annabeth muttered, mostly to herself. Percy heard her though. They were sitting so close their shoulders were touching, so it would have been a miracle if he didn’t.
“Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor. She can’t be mad about that,” Percy said, actually making to get up like he was about to lie down right there and then. It was Annabeth’s turn to pull him back onto the mattress.
“Don’t be stupid, you’re not sleeping on the floor in your own dorm room,” Annabeth said, “Besides, she’d just say I kicked you off your bed.”
Maybe Annabeth should’ve kept that last bit to herself, but she’d never been very good at hiding her feelings about Rachel. Percy sighed, knowing she was right but not wanting to admit it.
“Well I’m not letting you sleep on the floor,” he said stubbornly, despite the fact that Annabeth hadn’t even suggested it. She had to bite back a laugh at the indignant look on his face.
“Percy, I was never going to sleep on your floor. I was going to go home,” she reminded him.
“Well I’m not letting you do that either,” he said, “So I guess you’re stuck in bed with me, unless you want me to spend the night on concrete.”
“You’re so goddamn annoying,” Annabeth grumbled.
“Does that mean you’re staying?” he asked. His expression brightened considerably at the prospect, and Annabeth had to physically force herself to calm her heart rate down.
“Well apparently I don’t have a choice,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes, praying to every god in the universe that she wasn’t blushing.
“Right,” Percy said, putting on some exaggerated confidence, “Obviously. So am I taking the floor or the bed?”
Annabeth knew he would sleep on the floor in a heartbeat. If she told him that she was uncomfortable being in his bed with him, he would gladly spend the night on cold concrete in the middle of winter in a dorm that had, frankly, terrible heating.
But she wasn’t about to make him do that. And if she was honest with herself, being in bed with him was the opposite of uncomfortable.
“The bed,” she sighed. Percy grinned triumphantly.
“I knew you wouldn’t make me sleep on the floor,” he said, and Annabeth finally let herself laugh.
“Yeah, because I told you so twice.”
“I think it’s because I know you so well, actually,” he said, finally closing his laptop that had been playing the movie earlier, and setting it on his bedside table. They’d turned the lights off earlier, and without the soft glow of the computer screen the only lights in the room were the faint street lights outside.
The bed was just a regular old twin, with not much space for either of them. That was why they were touching so much, Annabeth reminded herself. Just that. No other reason. He just put his arm around her shoulders because it was more comfortable that way, that was all.
It was late, and Annabeth was drunk, so falling asleep was easy. But she’d be lying if she said Percy didn’t help with that too.
***
It’d been a week since Annabeth had spent the night at Percy’s dorm, and they hadn’t talked about it at all.
She’d woken up the next morning completely hungover, and also with her and Percy’s limbs completely tangled together. The bed they’d shared was small, but it wasn’t that small.
Percy, of course, had acted like it was nothing. He’d teased her about her bed head and she’d half-heartedly teased him back about his morning breath, and then she’d packed her stuff from the night before and made her walk of shame back to her dorm. Except it wasn’t even a proper walk of shame, because they hadn’t actually done anything.
He hadn’t brought it up since, like it had been no big deal at all. Annabeth wished she could be so lowkey about it, but it was the only thing she’d been thinking about that entire week.
They’d already planned to meet up at the end of the week again, only this time in a group setting. A group setting meant Rachel was going to be there, and Percy might think their little sleepover hadn’t been a big deal, but Rachel was definitely not going to share that opinion. Annabeth was honestly dreading facing her so much that she considered bailing at least ten times. In the end, she decided that she had to just suck it up— she was going to have to face Rachel at some point, it might as well have been now.
All that to say Annabeth was a little surprised when she showed up at the party, only to find Rachel acting completely normal towards her. She was irritated towards Annabeth, but that wasn’t unusual. Rachel was always irritated towards Annabeth, and Annabeth was always irritated towards Rachel. But Rachel wasn’t pissed at her like Annabeth expected her to be. She wasn’t even not pissed, she was downright cordial.
All it took was one look at Percy for Annabeth to confirm what she already knew. He hadn’t told her.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, grabbing Percy’s arm and pulling him down the hallway. Rachel was going to be pissed at her for that, but Annabeth didn’t care. Percy followed along without complaint, not even bothering to shoot Rachel an apologetic look.
The hallway was empty, or as empty as a hallway at a college party could be. The music was loud enough to cover up their conversation, anyway.
“Did you not tell her?” Annabeth asked, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. Percy immediately looked guilty.
“You don’t know that,” he said, as if everything about both of their demeanors hadn’t given it away instantly.
“Of course I do, she wasn’t absolutely furious with me,” Annabeth hissed. Percy looked, if possible, more guilty than before.
“Okay, fine, I didn’t,” he admitted, “But what’s the big deal? It’s not like we did anything.”
And there it was again, those two little words and the way he said them, as if anything happening between the two of them was an impossibility. It felt like a dagger straight to the heart, but Annabeth ignored it.
“I dunno,” Annabeth said, “I mean if I was your girlfriend, I think I would want to know.”
Percy had choked on his drink halfway through her statement, and was already coughing before she could finish it.
“Are you okay?” Annabeth asked, alarmed. Percy just shook his head.
“Fine,” Percy managed to choke out, “I’m fine.”
“Am I going to have to heimlich you again?”
“Hey, you promised you would never bring that up again,” Percy said, pointing an accusing finger at her as he coughed again, clearing his throat a few times for good measure, “Besides, I don’t think it works for soda.”
“Fair. But don’t change the subject.”
“You changed the subject first,” Percy accused, in a not subtle attempt to change the subject once again.
“Because I thought you were choking, dumbass. You have to tell her.”
“Why?” Percy practically whined.
“Because the fact that you don’t want to means you know she’s going to be mad about it,” Annabeth said.
Percy groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall.
“Why are you so smart?” he asked. It sounded like a complaint, even though she knew he didn’t mean it that way. It sure felt that way, though.
“‘Cause one of us has to be,” Annabeth sighed.
If Annabeth were smarter, she would’ve never agreed to spend the night to begin with. But it was way too late for that now.
They went back and joined the group, but Annabeth knew Rachel was staring (bordering on glaring) at her the entire rest of the night. She couldn’t even really blame her. She was going to be a hell of a lot more mad at Annabeth once she found out the reason Annabeth had pulled Percy away to begin with.
The very next day Annabeth was in her dorm room, trying to finish a project for her architecture class. It was due on Monday, but she’d been so distracted the entire week that she’d barely even made a dent in it at all. It wasn’t coming together the way she wanted to and Annabeth was three seconds away from snapping her pencil in half and throwing the whole draft away. Before she could, there was a sharp knock at the door.
Annabeth glanced down at her phone, but she didn’t see any texts. Maybe it was the RA doing an inspection, or maybe Piper had forgotten her key again.
But when Annabeth opened the door, she found Percy standing in the doorway. He spoke before Annabeth could even open her mouth.
“So, I told her,” Percy said, with absolutely no context. He knew she didn’t need it. Annabeth found herself gripping the door so tightly she thought her fingers might break.
“You did? What happened?” Annabeth asked, trying not to sound frantic. Why was he here? Why didn’t he just call her? What if Rachel had made him swear to never talk to her again and he was just here to say goodb--
“She asked me to tell her with 100% certainty that I didn’t have feelings for you,” Percy said, impossibly calm.
If Rachel had asked him that, why was he standing in Annabeth’s doorway?
“And?” Annabeth said, voice small. Her heart was practically pounding out of her chest, but Percy just shrugged.
“And, I couldn’t.”
“You couldn’t?” Annabeth repeated, just to make sure she had heard him correctly.
“Nope,” he said, easily, too easily, “To be honest, I couldn’t even give her like, 1% certainty, but that would’ve felt a little rude to say.”
“So…” Annabeth trailed off. She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. It didn’t make sense in her brain. Percy had feelings for her. And he’d broken up with Rachel, which meant— which meant—
“I think now is the part where you tell me if you like me back,” Percy said, interrupting her thoughts. He was smiling though, like he already knew the answer.
Annabeth did not currently have the mental wherewithal to form words. Thankfully her feet did the thinking for her, closing the already small distance between them and kissing him like she’d wanted to do for years.
“So I take it that’s a yes?” he said with a grin, when they finally broke apart. Annabeth was pleased to see he was a little breathless, at least.
“Shut up,” she laughed.
“Gladly,” he said, leaning down to kiss her again.
107 notes · View notes
Text
My Liability, My Deadweight
Tumblr media
Fandom: The Chronicles of Riddick
Collection/Series: My Liability, My Deadweight
Pairing: Richard B Riddick x Female Fat + Glasses Wearing Reader
Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long
Rating: T (Swearing, Riddick is Riddick, violence)
Warnings: Swearing, violence towards deadly alien creatures, violence from deadly alien creatures towards the reader
Summary: None of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to be on a holiday resort planet, relaxing by glistening waters and forgetting your troubles. Not traipsing through a deadly jungle on an uncharted planet with a just as deadly companion who seems torn between helping you and hating you.
Notes: So I guess this is going to be similar to Western AU Din in that i’ll probably write some stuff in the same sort of world/vein as this. I’m just interested in the idea of Riddick with a reader who is the opposite of a survivalist, who isn’t fit or strong, who is scared. The idea of Furyans having mates or soulmates that they don’t really get to choose and the idea of Riddick having to come to terms with the idea that the person he wants to protect so bad needs his protection more than most is interesting to me.
This is probably such a niche thing to write, not only because the fandom is tiny, but also because people tend to write Riddick fanfic where the reader or OC is extremely capable, but I wanted to write it. So self-indulgent fic coming up.
Archiveofourown
Comment and Feedback Form
Taglist Form
Kratos is a horror show of a planet. It’s the sort of planet you’d never thought you’d end up on, the sort of planet that you saw on horror vids and read about in the tales of survivors of tragedy. You weren’t supposed to be on it. You were just on a short trip, just supposed to go to a stupid holiday planet, at the insistence of your boss that you needed a break from your desk, that you worked too hard. You were a city slicker, an urban citizen, not an outdoorsman or an adventurer, certainly not the sort of person who’d come to a planet like this. But, your pilot had needed to make a stop, said there was a problem with the fuel cells that he needed to check out. So you’d made a pit stop on a barely charted planet. Nothing good ever happens on a barely charted planet. 
Covered in dense, muggy jungle, the planet would have been beautiful had it not been trying to kill you and your, for want of a better word, companion at every turn. It was covered in vibrant green forest, tropical plants, exotic and brightly coloured flowers (many of which, it turns out, were deadly themselves). There were brightly coloured bird-like creatures and primitive mammals that scurried through the trees and across the ground. It would have been beautiful, except for the limp in your walk from the burning claw marks deep in your thick thigh, except for the blood that followed in your wake, the dead bodies of the crew you’d left behind, and the yellow eyes that seemed to follow the two of you under the dark canopy.
After a stupid decision by your group to go out into the jungle to try and find a settlement of some sort, just because it had seemed like (as if there was any real reason to leave), you’d been picked off one by one. You could only describe the beasts as fucked up panthers. Two tails with stingers at the end, sharp spindly spines along their backs, an elongated neck, venomous fangs and sharp teeth and claws. They were hard to spot, silent in the underbrush and decidedly and most definitely deadly. The only reason you were still even alive was because of Riddick, because for some unknown reason the man, the murderer, had decided to stick close to you, like glue. You weren’t complaining.
At the time of boarding the ship for your trip it had seemed horrifying, to know that you were travelling on the same transport as Richard B. Riddick, escaped convict, known murder, predator. He was the sort of man your parents whispered about, the sort of man that you never wanted to meet. He was someone from your worst nightmare. Now he is your saving grace and surprisingly not what you had expected of a notorious big bad. While he meets many of your expectations, crude at times, harsh, and physically intimidating, he defies them too. He is at times oddly gentle with you and, the mere fact he cares about someone’s survival other than his own, is in itself a surprise. A fortunate one for you. 
“Are we nearly back to the ship?” You ask because your leg is killing you, because you so desperately just want to get off this planet even if it means being stuck in a confined space with a convicted murderer. You hate this planet, you hate the constant feeling of fear and of uselessness. You hate the truth of it all, that you are weak, vulnerable, prey not the predator. It has you realising your many weaknesses, many vulnerabilities, many failings. 
“Shhh…” Riddick raises his hand out in front of you, a universal sign to stop, while the other comes to his lips in a shushing motion. If he were a dog, his ears might very well have pricked up at the slightest sound. 
To you nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were no unusual sounds or movement in the brush. You couldn’t see anything out of place. Just as you begin to notice the silence, the lack of sound, that is the moment everything goes terribly wrong.
“Riddic-” You were cut off by your own scream. 
Things happen so fast that you don’t really have time to process them. One minute you are standing behind Riddick attempting to get his attention, the next a dark shape crashes into you and you’re on the jungle floor a heavy weight pressing on your chest and stopping your breathing. Your hands reach up instinctively, pushing against the creature in an effort to keep sharp gnashing teeth from your face, but you’re not strong and you’re not a fighter and you can feel your arms beginning to collapse already. Can hear yourself screaming for Riddick even as part of you thinks he’ll leave you there, abandon you to be eaten alive. There is a deep fear that this is it, this is the end. That it shall be painful, terrifying, lonely, and unfamiliar. 
Claws scratch at your arms, blood runs over your skin in rivulets as you scrabble in the dirt. Then as suddenly as the weight came it was gone, hefted off of you with an angry roar and the sound of a knife hitting flesh over and over again. You don’t look, can’t bring yourself to look, just lie there and breathe, in and out. You don’t want to see him do what he’s good at, don’t want to see alien blood, a dying creature, the parts of him that are less than gentle. So you stare up at the canopy and catch your breath, feeling the blood flow down your arms, the bruises that ache over your stomach, hips and legs. Feel the relief flow through you, combat the shock, as you realise you are not dead, you are alive, and he did not leave you to die. 
You’re rather numb in truth until you hear him muttering above you, “goddamn liability, deadweight…”, it shouldn’t upset you because it’s true. But it does, it upsets and angers you because you didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want any of this and you didn’t ask him to hang around, didn’t ask him to help you. You had no say in this. This was not your idea of a holiday, your idea of fun, or your fault. 
It forces you to your feet, forces you, despite the blood dripping from your wounds, to stand and face him, despite the bruises, despite the pain, despite the fear. You find yourself planting your feet even as you sway unsteadily, standing with hands on your wide hips and a scowl aimed at a man that could kill you easily. For the first time you���re too angry to overthink your actions towards the man. For a moment you stop thinking and start acting. 
“If i’m such a goddamn liability, then just leave me here! I didn’t ask for you to stay, Riddick! I didn’t ask for your help! If it’s such a fucking chore to have me along, if i’m really dead weight then leave me! Go!” You didn’t normally scream at anyone, it wasn’t your personality type. You were quiet, shy, retiring. A wallflower. You didn’t scream. You didn’t start fights. You didn’t do any of that. Anger wasn’t your natural response to anything. Fear was. But after being hunted down, time and time again by giant alien cats with venomous fangs and an uncanny ability to hide on a jungle planet, all while being called a liability, a dead weight by the one person you had to rely on, well, you were finally at your wits end. You were in pain, you were upset, frustrated and ready to just go home. 
You didn’t understand it. Why Riddick even bothered with you, practically a stranger. You knew you were a liability, that’s why it hurt so much when he said it. You were soft, emotionally and physically. You were a slow runner, a poor fighter, had terrible eyesight that required glasses, you weren’t light on your feet or graceful and you certainly didn’t know much about survival. You were overweight, unfit and unsure on your feet. You were prone to panic and tears, you were easily emotionally and physically unbalanced. Until this trip from hell you’d been content in the inner rim, working a normal job, a safe life. Your day to day had been comfortable, safe. Easy. You weren’t cut out for this, for danger and potential death and had Riddick, this known criminal, one of the most sought after murderers in the verse, not decided to stick by your side you’d have died at least ten times already. It didn’t make any sense and your frustration at yourself, the situation and at him had tears pooling in your eyes. You didn’t ask for any of this.
“I can’t.” He’s so impassive, so calm, that it pisses you off more. It pisses you off how hard it is to read him, how he hides his eyes behind black goggles that stop you understanding him. How he hides all emotion from you so easily. How is he okay with this? How is he so calm when everything around the two of you wants to kill you, when he could have left this goddamn planet already if you weren’t slowing him down at every turn? How could he stand there above the body of some hell spawn creature and just stare at you like that, like everything was just fine, just normal? Like he wasn’t covered in it’s blood. Like you weren’t dripping in your own. Like you hadn’t almost died. Again. 
“I..I don’t get it…? What do you mean you can’t? You could walk the fuck away right now. I can’t stop you! No one else is here to stop you! If you want to leave, leave! No one’s holding you back, Riddick! No one is going to stop you! I can’t bloody well can’t! Look at me!” You sound hysterical even to your own ears but you can’t help it. You are so scared, so confused, so frustrated, so panicked by all that’s happened, all that could happen. You gesture down to yourself, to the bloody coating you, the way you protectively hold yourself off of your hurt leg, the sheer stature different between the two of you. All the things that make it very abundantly clear that if he chose to simply walk away you couldn’t stop him. 
“Listen, princess, it’s not that fucking simple!” The snap is almost relieving, that he’s not as cold, not as impassive as you thought. That he could break too. That he could be angry, that he could be upset, that this wasn’t just normal. Even as his steps closer cause your back to hunch, cause you to second guess your antagonist behaviour. 
“I don’t understand!” 
With a growl he’s crowding you against a tree, thick arms caging you in. He’s imposing, large, a head taller than you and the action has him taking over every one of your senses. He never touches you in anger and while the display is intimidating, it oddly enough doesn’t scare you. It almost feels secure. Perhaps because not once has he done anything to suggest to you that he would hurt you, every move he’s made has been to keep you safe. Every time he’s touched you has been to pull you from danger or bring you back to your feet. Despite his harsh appearance, his foul language and the deadliness that he displays at every turn, he has never once given you cause to fear him. To fear how he would treat you. 
“You’re my mate, got it?! I don’t get to choose, I don’t get a choice! I can’t leave you! I just fucking can’t, so you’re a fucking liability and dead weight, but you’re my dead weight, got it? I ain’t fucking leaving you, we either both get off this motherfucking planet or we both get eaten by these fucks, princess. There’s no inbetween, understand?” Silver eyes flash at you as he tears the goggles from his eyes,  his brow furrows and the muscles in his thick neck and broad shoulders bunch and move with every piece of tension that bursts through him. You are distinctly and sharply reminded that Riddick is a predator in every sense of the word, while you are prey. You are on two separate ends of the spectrum. 
“Mate…?” Your eyes flit across the landscape behind his head, trying to process all those words and all their meanings. You don’t understand, you don’t understand any of it. But, those words soothe you in a way you can’t explain. He isn’t going to leave you. For whatever reason, for whatever this is, whatever he means, he isn’t going to leave you.  You let out a breath you didn’t even realise you’d been holding. He’s not leaving, even if you’re a liability, a deadweight. Even when things get bad, he’s not leaving. He is, at this point, your only chance at getting home, getting away from him, of surviving. The panic in you begins to soothe, calm and settle. 
“We don’t have time for this.” You’re startled by the sudden display of affection as the man cups the back of your neck and presses his forehead into your own, “Just trust me.”
“I do, Riddick, I trust you” It’s hard to explain, the trust you feel for him, the safety as you let him lead you once more through the jungle. You are bleeding, in pain and still ever so aware of the dangers around you, but you have an implicit belief that with Riddick you are as safe as you can be. That if there was ever a person to carry you through this it would be him. 
You might still be confused, might not understand what he means by you being his mate or by his obligation towards you, but you know that he isn't leaving you for dead and that is enough right now. That is more than enough.
                                                ------------------------------
                                                   All Works Taglist
@charradelange @belfry-bat  @gabile18 @beccaboo929​  @trasheater
307 notes · View notes
saphirered · 3 years
Note
I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol
Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))
Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘
Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.
That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.
You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.
Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.
Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.
Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.
“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.
“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.
“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.
“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.
“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.
“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.
Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.
You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.
“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.
“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.
“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.
“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.
“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.
“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.
With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.
“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.
So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.
Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.
————
Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.
“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.
“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.
“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?
“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.
Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?
84 notes · View notes
superhero--imagines · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
Etsy Store Here l Ko-Fi l Commission Info I Instagram I Zine
A/N: I just felt like it, this is pretty self-indulgent tbh. also please buy my stickers on etsy. Please. I worked so hard and I'm so scared they're going to flop.
* Yo babe, this guy is like your #1 supporter
* Like there’s two ways he meets you. The first is probably like that romantic “it’s fate” type of way, and the second is one of his brothers sets him up with you
* The first one is sort of romantic- you meet him when you’re still young at some book signing or a poetry reading or something
* And he sits next to you, and you start chatting a little about the author and their work
* “You sound like a writer” Jason says, and you blush a little
* “I guess I am” you’re just starting out though
* “What kinda stuff do you write?” He asks
* “The bad kind”
* He laughs at that
* And there’s this sort of romantic mood over the scene, like he just knows you’re going to be special to him
* But then the reading ends, and he’s waiting for it- to give you his number or to you see again but he never does
* You just get up and leave
* He see’s you again years later, at a charity ball Bruce is forcing him to go to “public appearance is important” and “optics need to be good” or something
* And you’re there, one hand on Dick’s arm, and the other around a flute of champagne
* “Oh, (Y/N)- this is my little brother Jason, Jason this is (Y/N)”
* The hand wrapped around Dick’s arm unfurls to hold his own, Jason can’t take his eyes off of yours
* “Nice to meet you”
* And there’s no familiar glint in your eyes, this isn’t some inside joke-
* You really don’t remember him
* “Nice to meet you too,” Jason says giving you a firm squeeze back
* Your hand is soft
* He can picture it, desperately clutching a pen, flying across a page, and scribbling all the ideas in your mind-
* It feels like a writers hand
* “(Y/N)’s an aspiring writer,” Dick says, and Jason flinches.
* So you are still writing
* “I’m not an aspiring writer, I am a writer”
* Jason doesn’t miss the slight bite in your words, despite your expressionless exterior
* “No I mean like a real writer- a published writer”
* “I am a published writer” you sigh, and Jason guesses you’re exasperated
* “Oh really where at?” Dick asks, and Jason almost wants to strangle his brother. Here’s the person of his dreams, and Dick had the stupid dumb luck to date them first- only to say all the wrong things.
* But before you can answer Dick’s eyes light up as they hover over the bar-
* Then out of nowhere, he grabs your champagne flute away from you
* “You’re running low huh?” The flute is mostly full, Jason notices. “I’ll get you another”
* And then he’s gone, leaving just you and Jason
* “I’m going to take a wild stab here, and say you’re not dating my brother”
* You shake your head with a small smile
* “This would be pretty sad if we were,” you say, picking up a champagne flute from a nearby server
* Jason mirrors the motion
* “Dick said he wanted to make an ex jealous, it’s a mutually beneficial situation”
* You motion to the bar, and sure enough Dick’s chatting up a familiar redhead Jason knows all too well
* “What do you get out of this?” The question is punctuated with a sip of champagne and your lips quirk into a small smile
* “I’ve never been to an event like this,” your eyes sweep the room- marble columns and men with shiny cuff links and tuxedos and women in polished gowns
* It’s like something out of a tv show
* “I thought it might be good for my writing” you shrug, your editor is always saying that you need more romantic elements in your work
* “Well you don’t need Dick for that,” Jason takes a sip of his champagne “I’m right here”
* You grin, and Jason has to pinch himself to snap out of the way you dazzle him
* “What a gentleman,” you say, still smiling, though it’s dimmed
* “Anything to support the arts”
* Elsewhere at the bar-
* “Do you think they’re hitting it off?” Barbara asks, and Dick grins
* “Of course they are, they’re a writer- Jason loves to read, it’s a match made in heaven”
* Barbara rolls her eyes, but she’ll admit, you guys look good together
* Things move fast after that, the way they always seem to when people are happy
* First dates at the pier
* Second dates watching bad movies and smuggling wine into a movie theatre
* Third dates where you do nothing but kiss
* Bookstore trips, late nights where you do nothing but dream
* Jason knows you’re getting close when you open up to him about your art
* “I’ve had this idea in my head for months now but it just won’t come out”
* And you’re taking such a huge chance talking about this- how many times have you been told to quit while you’re ahead, or ridiculed, treated as an annoyance, or even laughed at for opening up about your work.
* So the pure joy Jason shows when you speak to him about it makes your heart skip
* “Tell me about it, what kind of a story is it?”
* And this is such a vulnerable moment for both of you- but Jason makes it seem like it’s the most normal thing in the world, like this is how it should have been with everyone before
* And honestly it’s healing
* This dork will buy any magazine or journal you’re printed in and ask you to sign it
* If it’s web-only, he’ll print out your story on high-quality paper and ask you to sign that
* “You know you didn’t have to buy one, I have like 12 contributor copies,” you say hiding your smile as you indulge him by signing the cover
* “I just happened to see it-”
* He didn’t just ‘happen to see it’ he preordered this copy a month ago
* “Besides I like supporting your work”
* And no ones ever loved you like this, so you hide your smile behind your hand
* “Anything to support the art right?”
* “Exactly,” he says with a grin
* If you write a book and add his name to the dedications/acknowledgments he’ll straight-up start crying
* “Jason-“
* You’re a little concerned, you didn’t even write anything mushy just ‘For Jason, my number one supporter’
* When he finally shows his face from behind his hand he’s smiling so wide with the brightest blush on his face
* “This is my favorite book,” he says hugging the copy to his chest
* And you just smile
* He buys two books, one to make notes in and the other to keep in a shadow box
* Speaking of books-
* If you guys live together you have a lot
* Like seriously almost TOO many
* Have you guys seen that tik tok of the girl whose parents are professors and they have a whole house just COVERED in books- like even the bathroom
* Yeah
* That’s your house!!
* Well, probably apartment, but yeah
* You have a “guest bedroom”
* But really it’s a library with a bed in the middle
* Your living room has every wall covered in bookshelves and one small empty spot so he could mount the television
* It makes perfect sense- one bookshelf Is yours, one is for reference material, one is to keep all the stuff you get published, one bookshelf is for Jason, another is for shared classics, another is books you guys share with signed books in it, another is just a display case really
* And so on
* “Do you ever think we have too many books?” You ask Jason one night over cups of chamomile tea
* He looks up from the book in his lap, reading glasses slipping down
* “I think we’re the only people who have the correct amount of books”
* You grin
* “Yeah I think so too”
* He would totally show up to all your readings and book signings
* Your manager/agent might start to get worried
* “You don’t think he’s a stalker do you?”
* “Nah that’s just my boyfriend” you say with a smile, blowing a kiss in his direction
* Just- supportive Jason who loves that you were born to tell stories
194 notes · View notes
whumpmatsus · 3 years
Note
So. Todomatsu always ACTS like he hates that Karamatsu is so eccentric, but we all know he actually doesn't mind that much. If anyone else made fun of him for that stuff, I can't help but think he wouldn't let it fly. So what about a situation where Karamatsu gets made fun of/bullied/put down by someone OUTSIDE the family for being the way he be and Todomatsu gets an opportunity to go into full protective mode over him??
OH SHIT the youngest of them goes feral
dare I say... RELEASE THE BABY!!!!!
God I love Zaimoku, it’s so good <3
-
If Totty is being completely, utterly, unfailingly honest with himself, his brothers need his help if one of them is going to be going on a date.
Really, he’s the only one who has any clue about how to act on a date! He could hit his big brothers over the head with a Clue-by-four with that shit and they still wouldn’t really get it.
Even so… part of him thinks he shouldn’t really be following Karamatsu to a date. Karamatsu is the one Totty knows is never going to come running to him for advice or assistance, especially with girls; he’s got the undeserved ego of an avocado toast sandwich. Totty isn’t sure he’d be pleased to know his baby brother tagged along not because he has to sort out a schedule thing at work, but because he wants to keep an eye on Karamatsu.
What else is he supposed to do, though? Just let Karamatsu go alone and totally blow it? His usual behavior aside, Totty really wants his big brothers to be happy and have fulfilling relationships. He thinks if he can be there to keep an eye on things, well, maybe it won’t go so bad. Maybe Karamatsu will have a shot with this woman. Maybe he’ll get a girlfriend!
The very idea was enough to make him feel a little better about lying so that his brother will take him along. It eases his conscience, imagining that if he manages to help Karamatsu out to the point that the second eldest ends up in a loving, joyful relationship, (obviously as opposed to the past few horrible ones he’s had), then a little fib isn’t so bad, is it?
After all, if he were the one in need of something like this, he’d be grateful for his brothers’ help however they did it.
Of course, when he sees the look this girl gives Karamatsu, a look like the kind a baby gives after licking a lemon for the first time, Totty can’t help but wince. This isn’t off to a great start. He lingers by the counter, greeting Sacchi and Aida, trying not to look as if he’s watching his big brother’s date.
“Aren’t you off today, Totty?” Sacchi hums as she turns to start making a drink.
He nods. “Yeah, well, I can’t stay away, I guess, haha.”
Aida jerks her head toward the table where Karamatsu and his date are. “That’s one of your brothers, right? Still as painful as ever,” she teases. “Is he… oh, my God, he’s on a date??”
“Shhhh, shh!” Totty waves his hands a little, hoping to get his friends to quiet down a little. The last thing Karamatsu needs is to be drawing attention. “He thinks I tagged along to talk to you guys about my schedule. But, yes, he’s here on a date.”
Sacchi finishes serving her customer, one of the few in the shop at the moment, and then leans against the counter to look over. “Aw, good for him. He’s not either of our types, but he deserves a shot with someone who’s interested.”
He lets out a soft sigh. “Agreed there. I kind of just wanna keep an eye on him, you know? To make sure he doesn’t mess it up too much. He should have let me pick his outfit, ugh… that aside, he’s doing okay so far, though, I think.”
Aida frowns as she slides a cup of coffee toward her coworker. “Um, I hate to burst your bubble, but he’s got his work cut out for him. I’ve been to some mixers with that girl, and she always finds something wrong with every guy she hangs out with.”
“She’s right,” Sacchi adds. “Good thing you came along so you can carry him home, ‘cause that girl’s gonna tear him to pieces. I mean, she went out with Atsushi and the next day he was in here crying and telling me she made him feel two inches tall. Nobody’s good enough for her.”
Aida clicks her tongue. “Your big brother’s in big trouble, Totty.”
It’s Totty’s turn to frown as he looks toward Karamatsu. Unfortunately, Sutabaa is so small and he’s close enough that he doesn’t have to strain too much to hear what’s being said.
The woman is laughing. However… Karamatsu hasn’t even really opened his mouth yet. “Oh, my God! You’re my date, huh? Last time I let my sister set me up. That bitch, haha. Ah, well… wow, your jacket is hurting my eyes. Could you take it off?”
Karamatsu seems to be trying his best to smile. “O-oh, yes, of course.” He moves to tug it off, folding it over the back of his chair. “Please forgive me. Anyway, my name is Karamatsu. And you, my angel?”
“Ahaha, WHAT?” The woman raises an eyebrow at him. “C’mon, dude. Don’t call me that. I’m nobody’s angel.”
Totty feels himself starting to steam. You’ve got that right.
“A-ah… right, my apologies.” Karamatsu just keeps smiling. The expression on his face reads almost like he’s in pain. “Well, should we order?”
She gives a cursory glance toward the menu, then suddenly her eyes are drawn to Karamatsu again. “Oh, my God, hold on… is… is that your face on your shirt?! Holy shit! Are you really that full of yourself?”
Totty’s heart sinks as his brother’s cheeks flush bright red. This is not going well. And while, yes, Karamatsu probably should have picked a different shirt, what’s really wrong with what he’s wearing? Even though he’s a little over-the-top and dramatic, this woman can’t know whether or not he’s ‘full of himself’ when she’s barely letting him get a word in.
Totty is the most socially intelligent of his brothers, and even he doesn’t think Karamatsu’s actually doing anything wrong. He hasn’t drawn anyone else’s attention like he usually does, he hasn’t gone overboard with any poses, and he’s… kind of just being himself, slightly toned down. It’s not like he’s bragging or being a jerk. Hell, it’s just a strange fashion choice; how the hell does she think it has any bearing on what he’s like as a person?
“Damn,” Sacchi cringes. “She’s not wasting any time, is she?”
Aida gives a pout toward her friends. “He didn’t even do anything wrong yet. He’s been a perfect gentleman.”
“Yeah, he’s just a little odd and, like, a tiny bit painful. But he’s acting really nice and polite.” Sacchi sighs as she props her head up on her hand. “There’s no pleasing some people. Aida, why don’t you go take their order? Maybe you can accidentally spill it on that pretentious top of hers when you bring it to them.”
“Pfff, if only. I’m on it, though.”
Totty continues to fume as he watches his poor brother try to impress this girl, pretty much in vain. He gets the feeling that nothing Karamatsu says or does is going to be good enough. For some reason, that really pisses him off. Despite the fact that Karamatsu can be a bit much, that he’s overcompensating for being insecure on the inside, that everyone rolls their eyes at him… Karamatsu isn’t a bad guy. He tries hard to make other people happy and treats them with respect. Even his brothers who don’t always return the favor.
By the point Sacchi and Aida are finished making their order, the youngest is ready to explode at this woman. She never even told Karamatsu her name, but she’s spent the whole time talking him down. When she asked what he did ‘besides be super excruciating’, and he told her he didn’t really have a job, she laughed at him. He tried to save it by saying he occasionally played guitar at coffee shops, and she responded something along the lines of, “What kind of hipster loser does that these days??”
Listening to it just makes him so angry. She doesn’t think Karamatsu is attractive, she’s called him embarrassing more than once, and no matter what he does or says, she’s not happy with it. Why the fuck did she even bother going out with him, then?
Totty was worried that Karamatsu was going to screw this up; so far he’s actually managed to be a decent date. He wasn’t prepared for his brother’s date to be the shitty one.
Sacchi brings him a simple iced coffee while Aida returns with the serving tray, a fake smile on her face from laughing uncomfortably at one of the woman’s comments. “God, she’s exhausting.”
“I don’t even know her and I can’t stand her,” Totty mutterrs before taking a sip of his drink. “Why the hell is she treating him like that? He’s just… being himself!”
Being himself. Karamatsu’s really not doing anything wrong. He’s trying to talk himself up when this woman gives him a chance to, but who doesn’t talk themself up on a first date? He just wants to impress her.
It makes Totty feel a little guilty to realize that, honestly, all Karamatsu really wants is to impress everyone because he wants people to like him… including his brothers. If Karamatsu feels the need to seek love and acceptance from strangers like this girl, to the point that he’s willing to put up with the horrible way she’s treating him, what does that say about his brothers? It’s not the first time he’s sucked it up and dealt with something he shouldn’t have from someone just because he wants that person to love him.
His attention is drawn by the woman giggling a little too loudly. “Fuck, you wanna go out with me again? I mean, how do you think this is going? I’m two seconds away from sneaking out the bathroom window. You’re so obnoxious, you dress like an edgy middle schooler, and who wears sunglasses inside, especially when it’s raining outside? You’re, like, cringe incarnate.”
Completely contradicting every statement she made, she slid her hand across the table to take his, if only for a brief moment. The wicked look in her eyes, more sadistic than even Ichimatsu, made Totty’s stomach twist in anger. “I might keep you around, though. You seem like a guy who’d keep me laughing for a while. Maybe next time I’ll take you out with my friends so everyone can laugh at you.”
Oh, that’s it.
He doesn’t know if Karamatsu is oblivious to what she means because he’s blinded and deafened by the promise of another date, or if he knows exactly what she means but perhaps thinks it’s worth it. His eyes light up… and behind that hopeful spark is the pain she’s already put him through.
Baby of the bunch though he is, Totty isn’t going to sit around and twiddle his thumbs while some bitch takes advantage of his big brother.
“Oh, that is sooooo not happening!” he calls as he approaches the table. Although he feels a little bad about just stepping in like this, he’s not gonna let her get away with treating Karamatsu like that. Laughing at him herself was bad enough; parading him in front of her friends for all of them to laugh at him when there’s nothing wrong with Karamatsu isn’t gonna happen if Totty has something to say about it.
The woman gives him an unimpressed look. “Who the fuck are you?”
“T-Totty!!” Karamatsu,  on the other hand, looks immediately panicked. “I can handle this… please, go back and fix your schedule, and I’ll meet you at home.”
“Wait, you work here?” She tilts her head at him. “Oh, shit, hold up. You’re the asshole who messed up my drink last time I was here.” Her gaze flits between the two of them, and she laughs again.
“― Oh, my God! You had to bring your twin brother along to come on a date? You’re pathetic!” Her hand pulls away from Karamatsu’s. “Oh, you’re definitely coming out with me and my friends.”
Totty hisses and pushes her hand away from Karamatsu’s. He steps in front of his big brother to physically block this woman from him. “Keep your hands off him! You’re not taking him anywhere. He’s never seeing you again, because you treated him like… like, fuck, I wouldn’t treat a rock the way you treated him!”
He hears Karamatsu make a noise of almost-protest behind him; he can just imagine the other man sinking down in his seat and trying to hide his face. “Totty, please…”
“No! No, she doesn’t get to just treat you like dirt, Karamatsu-nii-san! You think my brother’s just some kind of dumbass you can show off to your friends and laugh at and treat him like crap?!” he snarls. “Well, guess what? He may be sort of a dumbass sometimes, and maybe he’s a little painful, and maybe he’s not the perfect guy you’re looking for! But he’s a whole hell of a better person than you are!”
Although Totty could kick himself for not saying anything to Karamatsu before, it might be best it’s coming out now. He doesn’t have a lot of time to really think about it or pretend or rehearse. What he’s saying isn’t practiced, it’s real. “Karamatsu is the kindest person I know, and you wish you had at least half the passion he does for the things he likes! Who cares that he wears a shirt with his own face on it? He was bending over backwards to make you happy, even though everything out of your mouth was word barf about how embarrassing he is! And, by the way, you’re wrong!”
It only takes half a step for him to reach over to grab his coffee from the counter, assisted by Aida who’s smirking as she holds it out for him. “If my choice was between you or him, I’d be way less embarrassed to be seen in public with him than with you! He’s not perfect, but he cares about people, and he’s always there when you need him, and ― and all this stuff you think is embarrassing, who the hell gives a shit?! It’s what he wants to do and it’s not hurting anyone! I’d break my phone before I let my big brother go out with someone like you again! Maybe he keeps striking out with dates, but he’s never going to be that desperate!”
He feels a little bad about what he’s about to do. That feeling is mitigated by the fact that at least his coffee isn’t hot.
“And, you know, I actually am sorry about messing up your drink last time. So here, you can have mine!” Almost before he’s finished speaking, he’s dumped his entire cup over her head.
He doesn’t stick around to deal with the aftermath aside from seeing the look of abject horror on the woman’s face as the coffee makes her bad mascara drip. And even though there’s a little bit of guilt over the fact that he’s leaving his coworkers to deal with her, the fact that Sacchi and Aida are cackling while they gather up napkins eases his mind.
He grabs Karamatsu by the hand and leads him out, tossing his coffee cup on the way. There’s not much choice on Karamatsu’s part, except he doesn’t particularly look as if he minds that.
“You didn’t… have to do that, Totty,” Karamatsu mumbles. When Totty glances over, the second eldest looks more tired than anything. He knows that look; the exhaustion of something not working out, of thinking you had a chance only for it to all go up in smoke.
Totty huffs, marching the two of them in the direction that leads back home. “Of course I did! You weren’t going to do it, so someone had to. God… you’ve gotta stop letting people walk all over you, Karamatsu-nii-chan.”
The shift to the more affectionate honorific suggests to Karamatsu that this is really, truly something Totty cares about. He squeezes his baby brother’s hand with a thoughtful hum. “… If that’s the case, perhaps a romance for me just isn’t in the cards. I… really thought it was going to go somewhere this time.”
At last Totty slows slightly, from an aggressive pace to something a little calmer. He’s still pissed off that someone treated Karamatsu like that, and although he’s a bit upset that Karamatsu sit there and let it happen, he knows what it’s like to want people to like you so much that you’ll put up with nearly anything.
However, that’s also the reason he doesn’t want Karamatsu just putting up with it. He deserves so much better than to have people treat him like dirt. It’s not right to do that to anybody, but… especially not to Totty’s big brother.
“I’m sorry I kind of… tapped into Murder Totty in there,” he sighs. “Did I go overboard?”
Karamatsu shrugs. “Maybe a little. But I wasn’t truly enjoying myself and I didn’t want to go on another date with her. I just… didn’t know how to tell her no. I suppose I really am lucky you were there, too.”
Silence falls between them while they walk, then after a moment, Karamatsu clears his throat. “Totty… did you… mean all those things?”
“Huh? All what things?”
“Those things, you know… you said I was… kind and passionate and reliable.” He lets out a soft laugh. “You… you said you’d rather break your phone than let me go out with her again.”
… Oh. He. Did say that, didn’t he?
He pouts a bit, then squeezes Karamatsu’s hand. “Yeah, I meant it. Of course I meant it.”
Beat.
“But as much as I love you, I’m just glad I don’t have to do that.”
48 notes · View notes
keyboardink · 3 years
Text
“oblivious” [part one]
[ part one / part two ]
kairi has a crush on her best friend, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
pairing: kairi “valkyrie” imahara x reader / media: apex legends
genre: angst & fluff / word count: 1.1k / rating: pg / warnings: none :)
a/n: @multifandombtchedits requested “a fic based off the first time Valkyrie or the reader says “I love you”!” and i ran with it. this was originally supposed to just be fluffy and only have like 1k words MAX but... i’m me and i can’t help adding some angst into the mix lol. part two will be up tomorrow. in the meantime, if you like this check out more of my writing here!
She had known it for a real long time.
She saw the way you laughed at her jokes, the way you smiled whenever she took a picture of you. She saw the way you would dress on a lazy day and how it seemed like almost a completely different person from how you looked when you dressed up for a formal event. She saw the expression that would paint your face when you were focused on something important to you. She sneaked peeks at you when you weren't looking or paying attention, glancing sideways moment after moment. She kept all these little snippets in her head, each one only solidifying the feeling she had known, only growing the feeling in her chest.
If someone asked her, she would've said she's known it forever.
But you didn't.
You didn’t know that all the time you spent crushing on her was mutual. You were oblivious to her side-glances. You heard her compliments on your appearance when you looked glamorous, but you brushed off the ones she gave when you were dressed in pajamas. You noticed the way her smile would brighten after she made a joke, but you didn't know that it was directly due to the sound of your laughter.
Kairi kept it to herself. She didn't want you to know. Or, she did, but she was scared. She was fearless most of the time - confident, cool, and sure of herself - but if she paid too much attention to the way her heart swelled when you smiled at her, she'd start to fumble. She'd rub her sweaty palms on the dark denim of her jeans when you weren't looking. She started to think too hard about the jokes she wanted to tell, no longer a seamless comedy queen but instead too focused on what you'd find funny. She wanted to impress you in every way. She wanted to prove to you that she was worth it to keep in your life without ever making it too obvious. That was the thing - she kept all her feelings under wraps.
One day, you met up with her for lunch at her favorite Japanese place, the one on the street corner across from her apartment. You two were regulars there; the owner knew you both by name and would start making your orders as soon as you opened the door.
"The usuals?" Mr. Ito shouted over the clatter of metallic dishes coming from the back kitchen.
"You know it!" Kairi yelled back, giving him a smile and a quick wave as she held the door open for you.
You both guided her to your usual spot, the small table for two against the floor-to-ceiling window. The afternoon sun was perfectly blocked by the coffee-colored awning so that it warmed the wooden chairs but stayed out of your eyes. You slipped into the seat in the corner, Kairi following suit across from you.
"So," she started as she slipped off her red bomber jacket, "any more drama with whats-his-face?"
The past few days, you'd been keeping her updated about an annoying coworker of yours who'd been trying to hit on every customer who came in. "He's ''quitting'' apparently," you replied, using your hands for air quotes. "I heard the manager suggesting that he put in his two weeks, so I guess it's like he was fired in a nice way."
She raised her eyebrows and rested her hand on her chin. "Shame he wasn't fired. Kinda sounds like the jerk deserved it."
You nodded in agreement, shrugging. "At least something's being done about it."
"Regulars!" Mr. Ito declared, looking over at you and Kairi. He placed a tray that held two steaming dishes on the counter.
"I'll get it," she said, already standing up. She returned a moment later, placing the tray in the center of the table. You responded with a smile, already grabbing your plate.
"We already started looking for new hires. You know, you could come work with us," you joked as you shoved a bite into your mouth.
She sent you a small smile across the table, one that silently said "no, but if you weren't joking I might consider it." That's one benefit of being friends for years: you could understand each other with a simple look. Never underestimate the power of a well-engineered eyebrow raise.
"We did an on-the-spot interview with some girl who came in," you continued. "She asked me for my number afterwards. She seemed like she'd be a good-"
Her hand paused halfway through bringing her noodles to her mouth. "She what?"
"She asked me for my number after her interview," you repeated.
"Like, in a flirty way?" Kairi narrowed her eyes, her jaw suddenly tense. She dropped her chopsticks back into the bowl.
"I don't really know," you said, taking another bite. "You know I'm always oblivious to that kind of stuff."
Yeah, I know, she thought to herself. She looked down at her noodles, suddenly full despite not taking a bite. "Mr. Ito, can I get a box?" She shouted, looking over the counter. He nodded and disappeared into the back.
"Hey, what's wrong? You're leaving?" You asked, suddenly aware of the tension that radiated from her. Your lunch breaks usually lasted half an hour.
"Here you go, Kairi," Mr. Ito said as he approached your table, plastic to-go box in hand.
She gave him a grateful smile as she took the box, already dropping her noodles into it. "Nothing's wrong," she said, avoiding your gaze. "I just remembered I had some plans. A date." She hoped you would be oblivious enough not to see through her lie.
"A date?" Your eyebrows shot up. She normally brought girls back to her place after a night out, but she wasn't the type to be in the dating scene. She always said she liked it better without strings attached. "It's more fun that way," she had once said when you asked why she never slept with the same girl twice.
Your heart ached a little at the idea, but you weren't exactly sure why. Maybe because you two had been best friends forever, and you thought she would've told you earlier that she had a date. You two didn't keep secrets from each other. At least, that's what you thought.
"Yeah, sorry," she said with a shrug, slipping back into her jacket. She stood up after she dropped a couple dollars for her food on the table.
"Okay, well, see you later?" you called after her, but the door was already closing behind her. You were left at the table, alone, watching her walk away through the tall window. There was a sinking feeling in your chest, but you couldn't tell the reason that conjured up the anchor.
[ part two ]
102 notes · View notes
realcube · 3 years
Text
LEAVING MIDORIYA
Tumblr media
part one (nsfw) | part two 
tw// mentions of toxic relationships, drinking & mention of a bombing
Tumblr media
honestly, if you were given enough time you probably could’ve figured it out on your own — without the assistance of a psychiatrist — but exactly one appointment later, you were left with the disheartening realisation that you weren’t having ‘bad dreams’ and the marks on your body weren’t inflicted by yourself during slumber. eventually, the fact set in that it was your sweet, gentle fiancée who was the cause of all these things. 
this whole time, you were under the impression that you were the problem, that there was a malicious part of you that wanted to paint deku out to be some sort of villain; and now you were finally made aware that a villain is exactly what he is. 
it was a hard conclusion to come to but the initial wave of relief you felt was enough to make you act on it quickly, as the more you waited around and let the fact sink in, the more you doubted whether or not to take action. but reasoning isn’t what you need right now, you just need to get away from him. 
where will you go? you had no idea, but any where away from him is good enough. 
midoriya didn’t even get enough time to try fill your head with even more lies. you came marching into the apartment with the intention of ignoring everything he says and simply pack your stuff so you can leave. no matter how much he screamed, begged or yelled, it was like trying to hold a conversation with a brick wall hence he eventually gave in, leaving you to collect your things in peace as there was clearly no way he was going to get through to you. 
you left without another word — not even a goodbye — and you were sure to sneak your engagement ring out with you. although it made you sick to look at, realistically you might need the cash since as soon as you stepped outside your shared apartment with your shit in bags, you were officially homeless. 
no need to worry though, you had arranged to stay the night at a friend’s house until tomorrow morning, then you could catch the train to your parent’s. from there, you’d stay with them until you manage to find a new apartment within your price range. 
one problem; your friend just texted you saying that they have to retract their offer because their landlord doesn’t allow over two people to sleep in the same dorm, and they already have a roommate. very unfortunate but hey, what can you do? plus, they apologised and offered to pay for your hotel but you reassured them that their money wouldn’t be necessary. 
now sitting outside your old apartment complex, scrolling through your phone looking for the nearest hotel. since both you and deku were well-paid pro-heroes and bought a penthouse in a rather affluent area, it was no surprise that most of the hotels that were reasonably close were from 4-5 stars.
although a 5-star hotel room for one night really wasn’t necessary, the post-breakup adrenaline was telling you otherwise. it also told you that treating yourself to a shopping spree, getting wine drunk at a bar and then shuffling back to the hotel with mcdonald’s take-out was a great idea! 
those emotional discussions you had with complete strangers must’ve really gotten to you because when you opened your front camera to take some pictures, you immediately grimaced at the sight of your mascara staining your cheeks. you were lazing around in the hotel lobby surrounded by name brand gift bags — waiting for your room key — looking like that? how embarrassing. 
quickly wiping away your tears, you put on a pair of designer sunglasses you brought earlier to shield your smudged eye-makeup from the world. not that you cared what anyone in this damn lobby thought of you anyway, you were only going to be here for one night, after that you would never see most of these people again. or at least, that is what you thought.
out of the corner of your eye, you saw flashing lights which prompted you to take out your earbuds but once you did, you instantly regretted it as all you heard was screaming and yelling from the entrance. looking up, you noticed an average-looking guy wearing a skull tank top resembling the fashion sense of a middle schooler, being followed by a mob of screaming fans, paparazzi and gossip channel reporters. 
“dynamight! thank you for everything!”
“you deserve to be number one!” 
“we are here at scene, pro-hero dynamight has just been seen entering what appears to be his five star accommodation, wearing his signature blac--”
the loud noises were suddenly muffled as the doorman shut the entrance behind him, leaving things just as they were, except now there was a muscular blond man encircled by bodyguards staring daggers at you.
in any other situation, you would’ve just tried your best to ignore him but some of that liquid courage was beginning to get to you, so your reaction was to snarl right back at him, yelling across the hall, “take a picture, why don’t ya? it’ll last longer.”
only upon processing your reply did the man finally snap out of his trance and storm up to, being hastily followed by his guards who looked as though they were ready to throw down at any given moment, so of course you cowered back in your seat, apologies waiting on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill until his face was hovering centimetres away from yours. 
your throat ran dry at his unexpected action, your eyes scanning over his chiselled features through the tint of your glasses. in a turn of events, you were now the one speechlessly staring at him. then, a deep chuckle erupted from his throat, causing the shock to show on your expression. 
“i knew i recognised you! you’re stupid deku’s girlfriend- fiancée or whatever; i saw the invite for your wedding in my mail and i just got a look at your face before i threw it away. small world.” the blond continued to laugh, talking to you as if you were an old friend of his despite the fact you’ve never seen him before in your life, “anyway, you like a hot fuckin’ mess. where’s deku?” 
why was he talking to you so casually? and how dare he say that!
“first of all,” you started, peering over your glasses to gaze at his face without the rose tint but to no avail, you still had no idea who this man is. using the soles of your palm, you pushed him away by the shoulders as he was a bit too close for comfort, but that resulted in all his guard looking at you with murderous glints in their eyes. “deku and i broke up--”
“when?” he cut you off
“let me finish.” you glared at him, fixing your sunglasses, “we broke up this morning. secondly, who the fuck are you?”
the man looked like he was ready to burst out laughing once again until he had a visible realisation, “eh, well, we’ve never met before but i’m sure deku has told you about me. if not, you’ve probably seen me in the news; i saved around a thousa--”
“no, i’ve not watched the news for, like, the past six months.” this time, you cut him off with a mischievous smirk which you tried your best to conceal.
“bitch! let me fuckin’ finish!” he barked, then had a sudden change in demeanour as he let out a sigh, momentarily silent as he scanned the surrounding area, “i’m bakugo. kastuki.”
your reply of a blank stare spoke a thousand words.
“y’know, dynamight.”
who?
“the number two hero!”
nothing.
“the one who saved that whole airline from blowing up just a week ago! c’mon, it was all over the fuckin’ news!”
“you look like a hotter version of my old maths teacher. oh, and i’m (y/n) (l/n).” was the only verbal response he was able to get out of you, even after all his explaining.
“why do you i feel like you are sayin’ that just to piss me off?” he muttered to himself through gritted teeth, followed by a sharp inhale which you assumed was an attempt to calm himself down. his carnelian eyes darted around the room, halting once he raised his arm to view his watch. his brows knitted together as he read the time, forming a concentrated look which was short-lived as his face was quick to relax, emphasised by a slight shrug as if to say ‘i’ve got time’, before slumping down on the couch next to you. 
“so why did you and shitty deku break up?”
“i may be a bit tipsy but i’m not just gonna tell that sorta stuff to a complete stranger.” each syllable felt like it had to be forced out one at a time, but you’d rather that than slur you speech as bakugo seemed like the type to poke fun at you for it. 
“i just wanna know how badly he fucked up this time.” bakugo smirked, propping his elbow up on the back of the couch to turn and look at you, “eh, i don’t think we’ll be strangers for long.” 
there was a certain purr in this voice which sent blood rushing to your cheeks as you never expect someone like him to come on so strong. not that you were complaining, i mean, being in his presence during a time like this felt like a gift from god but you weren’t going to let him know that. it’d only add to his already massive ego so you decided to ignore his suggestive behaviour, opting to show disinterest instead, “hm, you think?”
it was almost comical how fast bakugo’s cocky smirk fell into a frown. honestly, he wasn’t used to people that he flirts with rejecting him, considering that he rarely ever makes moves on anyone. so, now what did he do? due to the foreign nature of this situation, bakugo felt as though he was left with no choice but to bargain, since he’s far from a quitter, “oi, what that supposed to mean?”
you shrug.
bakugo clicked his tongue along with a roll of his eyes before he said, “how ‘bout this; i pay for your room tonight and in exchange we can get to know each other tomorrow.”
“i can pay for my own room though.” 
bakugo deadpanned, he honestly thought he had won but apparently not. perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to hit on someone who had just gotten out of a relationship but whatever. “you’re impossible.” he spat, getting up from the couch and marching away, presumably to his room.
he tried to brush off the encounter like it never happened, reassuring himself that he didn’t have to think much of it as he could get with anyone else. plus, you’d probably come crawling back to him, begging to fuck once you get over deku anyway. 
and he was half right.
eventually, you came to the realisation that both you and bakugo have one thing in common — a hatred for deku. and as it turns out, hatred provides a good groundwork for friendship. 
112 notes · View notes
I am against the "Americanization" of fandoms.
What this applies to
Holding non American characters (and sometimes even fans) to an American moral standard. This includes
Refusing to take into account that, first things first, America is NOT the target audience, so certain tropes that would or would not pass in the west are different in Japan.
Like seriously, quite a few of the jokes are just not going to pass or hit, because they require background information that is not universal.
Assuming all American experience is standard. (This could mean watering down just how much pressure is placed on Japanese youth irl by saying that sort of thing is universal (while it is, to a degree, Japanese suicide rates are pretty fucking high because of how fast paced and work heavy some of their loads tend to be), and it's really annoying and rude when someone is trying to speak out about how heavy and harsh the standards are placed on them to succeed just for some American whose mom occasionally yells at them to do their homework dropping by to say "it's like that everywhere")
Demonizing (or wubbifying) a character using American morals, including and up to harassing fans over their interpretations or gatekeeping whether or not a character "should" get development (while you shouldn't do that fucking period, it's rude and annoying- this is specifically for the people who use American standards without acknowledging the cultural gap between them and, you know, the fucking target audience) ((Like seriously, saying "It's different in Japan" is not the end all be all excusing someone's actions, but sometimes the author didn't immediately think that maybe (insert vaguely universal thing) was that bad or that heavy of a topic before they put it into their media. If you don't want to see things like that? Pick a different series and stop harassing the fans))
Getting mad at or making fun of Japan's attempts to satirize their own culture. (A good example is Ace Attorney! To most of us, it's just a funny laugh can you imagine if courts were actually like that- guess what? Japan's are! (Not that America's are actually that much better, they just look good on paper))
Making America/American issues the center of your fan spaces
(Usually without sharing or bringing light to the issues that other countries are going through)
Your
Experiences
Are
Not
Univseral!
Seriously, very few things across America, even, are universal. Texas things the hundreds are nothing while Minnesota's like "oh it's only thirty degrees below zero"- so for fucks sake, stop assuming that all other countries work in ways similar to America.
It's good and important to share Ameican issues with your American followers, but guess what? America isn't the only country out there, and it's certainly not the only one going through bullshit. Don't pull shit like "why's no one reblogging this?" or "why should I care about what's happening in (X country)?"
Don't assume everyone lives in America.
Stop assuming everyone lives in America.
America is not and has never been the target audience for anime, and it's certainly not the only country outside of Japan that enjoys it.
Like I said above, sometimes Japan attempts to satirize its own culture. We can't tell what is and isn't meant as satire, because it's not our culture.
Social media activism can be tiring and maybe you don't have the energy to focus on things that are out of your control, but, if someone tells you about the shit they're going through, don't bring American politics up.
For the neurodivergent crowd out there thinking, "But why?" it's because a lot of social media, especially, is very heavily Americanized- sometimes to the point where people assume that everyone is American. Not to mention, it's disheartening. I'm sorry to say, but you're not actually relating to the conversation, you're often diverting the focus away from the topic at hand. Even if you mean well, America is heavily pedestaled and talked about frequently, and people from other countries are tired of America taking precedent over their own issues.
Don't divert non-American issues into American ones. Seriously. It's not your place. Please just support the original issue or move on.
Racist Bullshit
This especially goes for islanders and South Asian characters, as well as poc characters (because, yes, Japan DOES have black people)
Making "funny" racist headcanons. Not fucking cool.
Changing the canon interpretation of an explicit character of color in order to fit racist stereotypes.
Whitewashing or color draining characters. Different artistic skill sets can be hard, yes, but are you seriously going to look at someone and say "I don't feel like accurately portraying you or people that look like you, because it's difficult for me." If someone tries to correct you on your cultural depiction of a character and/or their life style, don't be an ass. (If possible, it would be nice for those that do the corrections to be polite as well, but it does get really frustrating).
Seriously, no offense guys, but, if you want to persue art, you're going to need to learn to depict different body types, skin colors, and/or ethnic features.
On that note, purposefully, willingly, or consistently inaccurately portraying people or characters of color (especially if someone in the fandom has "called you out" or specifically told you that what you're doing comes across as racist and you continue to do it). If you need help or suck at looking things up, there are references for you! Ask your followers if they have tutorials on poc (issue that you're having), whether it be bodily portrayal, facial proportions, or coloring and shading. Art is so much more fun when you can depict a wider variety, and guess what? Before you drew the same skinny, basic, white character over and over, you couldn't even draw that!
Attempting or claiming to DEPECT CULTURAL ACCURACY within a work or meta, while being completely fucking wrong. ESPECIALLY and specifically if someone calls you out, and you refuse to fix, correct, or change anything.
*little side note that the discussion revolving art is a very multilayered conversation, and it has quite a few technical potholes, which I'll bring up again farther into this post.
Fucking history
Stop demonizing or for absolute fucks sake wubbifying Japanese history because UwU Japan ♡0♡ or bringing up shit like "you know they sided with Nazis, right?" It's good to recognize poor past decisions, but literally it's not your country keep your nose out of it. And? A lot of decisions made by countries were not made by their general peoples. Even those that were, often involved heavy propaganda that made them think what they were doing was right.
Seriously, it's not your country, not your history. Unless you have some sort of higher education (but honestly even then a lot of those contain heavy bias), just don't butt in.
^^^ this also goes to all countries that are NOT Japan (specifically when people from non American countries talk about their history while in fandoms and someone wants to Amerisplain to them why "well, actually-"). When we said, "question your sources," we didn't mean "question the people who know better than you, while blindly accepting the (more than likely biased) education you were given in the past."
What this does NOT include:
Fanfiction
FANfiction
FanFICTION
FANFICTION.
Seriously, fanfiction is literally UNPAID WORK from RANDOM FANS- a lot of which who are or have started as kids. ((No, I'm not trying to excuse racist depictions of people just because they're free, please see above where I talk about learning to grow a skill and how it's possible tone bad and get good, on top of the fact that some inaccuracies are not just willful ignorance))
"Looking it up" doesn't work
"Looking it up" almost never works
Please, for fucks sake, you know that most all online search engines are heavily biased, right? Not to mention, not everything is universal across the entirety of Japan. You want to look up how the school system works in Hokkaido? Well it's different from the ones in Osaka!
Most fanfiction is meant to be an idealized version of the world. Homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, ableism, and racism are very prevalent and heavy topics that some fan authors would prefer to avoid. (Keep in mind, this is also used by some people in those minorities often because thinking about how relevant those kinds of things are is to them every day).
A lot of shit that happens in writing is purely because it's an ideal setting. I've seen a few arguments recently about how fan authors portray Japanese schools wrong- listen, I can't tell you how many random school systems I have pulled from my ass purely because (I need them to interact at these points, in these ways). Sometimes the only compliment I can think of is 'I like your shirt' or sometimes I need character A to realize that character B likes the same thing as they do, so I might ignore the fact that most all Japanese schools require uniforms, so that I can put my character in a shirt that will get someone else's attention.
Sometimes it's difficult to find information on different types of systems, and sometimes when you DO know those things, they directly rule out a plot point that needs to happen (like back on the topic of schools (from what I've seen/heard/read- which guess what? Despite being from multiple sources, might still be inaccurate!) Japanese schools don't have mandatory elective classes (outside of like gym and most of them usually learn English or another language- I've seen stuff about art classes? But the information across the board varies.), but, if I need my character to walk in and see someone completely in their element, I'm probably not going to try and gun for accuracy or make up a million and two reasons as to why this (non elective) person would possibly need something from (elective teacher) after school of all things.)
Some experiences ARE universal- or at least overlap American and Japanese norms! Like friends going to fast food places after school doesn't /sound Japanese/ or whatever, but it's not like a horrible inaccuracy to say that your characters ate at McDonald's because they were hungry. Especially when you consider that the Japanese idolization of American "culture" is also a thing.
Also I saw someone complaining about how, in December, a lot of (usually westerners) write Christmas fics! Well, not only are quite a few of those often gift fics, with it being the season if giving and all, but Japanese people do celebrate Christmas! Not as "the birth of Christ," but rather as a popularized holiday about gift giving (also pst: America isn't the only place that celebrates Christmas)
But, on that note, sometimes things like Holidays are "willfully ignorant" of what actually happens (I've made this point several times, but (also this does by no means excuse actual racism)), because, again: plot convenience! Hey what IF they celebrated Halloween by Trick or Treating? What if Easter was a thing and they got to watch their kids or younger siblings crawl around on the ground looking for tiny plastic eggs?
Fanfiction authors can put in hours of work for one or two thousand words- let alone ten thousand words, fifty thousand words, a hundred thousand words. And all of these are free. There is absolutely no (legal) way to make money off of their fanworks, but they spent hours, days, weeks, months- sometimes even years- writing. It is so unnecessary to EXPECT or REQUIRE them to spend even more hours looking up shit that, no offense, almost no one is going to notice. No one is going go care that all of my combini prices are accurate or that I wrote a fic with a Japanese map of a train station that I had to backwards search three times to find an English version that I could read.
Not everyone has the attention span or ability to spend hours of research before writing a single word. Neurodivergent people are literally a thing yall. Instead of producing the perfectly pretty accurate version of Japan that people want to happen, what ACTUALLY happens is that the writer reads and reads and reads and either never finds the information they need or they lose the motivation to write.
^^^ (This does NOT apply to indigenous or native peoples, like Pacific Islanders or tribes that exist in real life. Please make sure that you portray tribal minorities accurately. If you can't find the information you need (assuming that the content of the series is not specifically about a tribe), please just make one up (and for fucks sake, recognize that a lot of what you've been taught about tribal practices, such as shit like human sacrifices or godly worship, is actually just propaganda.)
Not to mention, it often puts a wall in front of readers who would then need to pull up their OWN information (that may or may not be biased) just in order to interact with the fic ((okay, this one has a little bit of arguability when it comes to things like measurements and currency, because Americans don't know what a meter is and no one else knows what a foot is- either way, one of yall is going to have to look up measurements if they want to get a better understanding of the fic)). However, a lot of Americans who do write using 'feet, Fahrenheit, dollars,' also write for their American followers or friends (which really could go both ways).
On a less easily arguable side, most fic readers aren't going to open up a new tab just to search everything that the author has written (re the whole deep topics, not everyone wants to read about those sorts of things, either). Not only are you making it more difficult on the writer, but you're also making it more difficult for the reader who's now wondering why you decided to add in Grandma's Katsudon recipe, and whether or not the details you have added are accurate.
Some series, themselves, ignore Japanese norms! Piercings, hair dye, and incorrectly wearing ones uniform are frowns upon in Japanese schools- sometimes up to inflicting punishment on those students because of it. However, some anime characters still have naturally or dyed blond hair some of them still have piercings or wear their uniforms wrong. Some series aren't set specifically in Japan, but rather in a vague based-off-real-life Japan that's just slightly different (like Haikyuu and all of its different prefectures). Sometimes they're based on real places, but real places that have gone through major changes (like the Hero Academia series with its quirks and shit).
Fandom is not a full time job. Please stop treating it like it is one. Most people in fandoms have to engage in other things like school or work that most definitely take precident over frantically Googling the cultural implications of dying your hair pink in Japan.
Art is also meant to be a creative freedom and is almost always a hobby, so there are a few cracks that tend to spark debate. Like I said, it is still a hobby, something that's meant to be fun (on this note!)
If trying new things and expanding your portfolio is genuinely making you upset, it's okay to take a break from it. You're not going to get it right on the first try and please, please to everyone out there critiquing artists' works, please take this into account before you post things.
I'm sorry to say, but, while it gets frustrating to see the same things done wrong over and over again, some people are genuinely trying. If it matters enough for you to point out, please offer solutions or resources that would possibly help the artist do better (honestly this could be said about a lot of online activism). I get that they should "want" to do better (and maybe they don't and your annoyance towards them is completely justified- again, as I said, if this becomes a repeated offense and they don't listen to or care about the people trying to help them, yeah you can be a bitch if it helps you feel better- just please don't assume that everyone is willfully ignorant of how hurtful/upsetting/annoying a certain way of portraying things is), but also WANTING to do better and ACTUALLY doing better are two different things.
Maybe they didn't realize what they were doing was inaccurate. Maybe they didn't have the right tutorials. Maybe they tried to look it up, but that failed them. Either way, to some- especially neurodivergent artists- just being told that their work is bad or racist or awful isn't going to make them want to search for better resources in order to be more accurate, it's just going to make them give up.
Also! In fic and in writing, no one is going to get it right on the first try. Especially at the stage where we creators ARE merely in fan spaces is a great time to "fuck around and find out", before we bring our willfully or accidentally racist shit into monetized media. Absolutely hold your fan creators to higher standards, but literally fan work has so little actual impact on popular media (and this goes for just about every debate about fan spaces), and constructive criticism as well as routine practice can mean worlds for representation in future media. NOT allowing for mistakes in micro spaces like fandoms is how you get genuinely harmful or just... bad... portrayals of minorities in popularized media that DOES have an impact on the greater public. OR you get a bunch of creators who are too afraid to walk out of their own little bubbles, because what if they get it wrong and everyone turns against them. It's better to just "stick with what they know" (hobbies are something that you are meant to get better at, even if that is a slow road- for all of my writers and artists out there, it does take time, but you will get it. To everyone else, please do speak up about things that are wrong, but don't make it all about what's wrong and please don't be rude. It's frustrating on both ends, so, if you can, please try not to escalate the situation more.)
Anyways, I'm tired of everyone holding fictional characters to American Puritanical standards, but I'm also tired of seeing every "stop Americanizing fandom" somehow loop into fanfiction and how all authors who don't make their fics as accurate as possible are actually just racist and perpetuating or enabling America's take over of the world or some shit.
Fan interpretation of published media is different than fan creation of mon monetized media. Americans dominating or monopolizing spaces meant for all fans (especially in a fandom that was never meant for them to begin with) is annoying and can be harmful sometimes. Americans writing out their own personal experience using random fictional characters (more often than not) isn't.
78 notes · View notes
scarabbai · 3 years
Text
Shower Me in Love
Relationships: Venti/Xiao | Alatus
Word count: 870
Summary:
Venti finds out about one of Xiao’s family traditions. It’s sweeter than he expected.
AO3 Link
Xiao does stuff Venti doesn’t understand sometimes.
Like that one time the night before his birthday, when Xiao glanced at the clock and immediately dropped everything to make a mad dash for the shower. What could possibly be important enough to interrupt a last minute cramming session for an important exam the next morning, Venti has no idea. All he knows is that it had been only five minutes until midnight when Xiao ran off to the bathroom like his life depended on it. After he came back out, hair still very much damp and clinging to his forehead, he’d checked the time again like he was meeting a deadline or something.
(And yes, Xiao looked very nice coming out of the shower. Smelled great, too.)
Despite looking so flustered at first, the moment it hit midnight all Xiao did was sigh and go right back to normal. He gave him a kiss and wished him happy birthday like whatever spell it was that came over him didn’t just happen.
The whole thing still baffles Venti to this day, and what confuses him even more is why, of all things, Xiao blushed and told him it didn’t matter when he asked him about it later. Like, was it something—pun not intended—dirty? Something really dumb? He’s dying to know!
He doesn’t find out what it was all about until almost an entire year later: on April 16th, half an hour before midnight.
“Venti,” Xiao mutters, prodding him with his foot, “you need to go take a shower.”
Venti, who is currently on the couch shoving apple chips into his mouth with his left hand and typing song lyrics on his phone with his right, gasps dramatically in mock offense. “Xiao!” he cries, pressing the back of his phone-holding hand to his forehead as he feigns distress. He sees Xiao smile and roll his eyes in the corner of his vision and tries very hard not to ruin his over-the-top wounded act with a grin. “Are you implying that I, your oh so wonderful and beautiful and absolutely immaculate-looking boyfriend, am beginning to smell bad? Are you saying that I might be—oh, the thought is too much to bear—stinky?”
Xiao tries to cover up his cute little snort with a hand over his mouth, and Venti takes that as a sign that his mini performance is a success.
Despite this, his amused expression quickly melts into one of embarrassment as he clears his throat. “No, um, that’s not it.” His gaze drops to the floor and a pretty blush spreads across his face. It makes Venti want to kiss him so bad. “I just...need you to take a shower. Before midnight.” He awkwardly coughs into his fist. “So, like, now. Since I know you like longer showers.”
Even if his earnest expression is terribly endearing, Venti can’t say he isn’t surprised by Xiao’s sudden bashfulness, so he just blinks at him in surprise. “I mean, sure, but why so suddenly?” A playful grin stretches across his face, and he bats his eyelashes at Xiao. “Are you getting me all prettied up for something? Something special? Oh, Xiao, you shouldn’t have!”
“What?” If Xiao wasn’t blushing before, he sure is now. His face looks like a wildfire with how brightly it burns. “N-No!” he splutters. “No, and it’s- it’s not anything weird. It’s just...”
He breathes in deep and releases a long sigh, refusing to meet Venti’s eyes in the cutest display of shyness possible. His lips are pressed into a firm line before he gathers the confidence to speak again.
“I... don’t know if this is something that all Liyuens do, but... In my family, you can’t wash your hair on a close relative’s birthday. It washes away the person’s luck, so if you care about their wellbeing, you don’t.”
That’s... an interesting tidbit of information. One that Venti doesn’t quite understand how he fits into.
He ends up staring at Xiao with confusion written all over his face. “Um, sounds cool, but... How does that have anything to do with us?”
Somehow, Xiao’s blush grows even darker. “Spouses are included in this definition of relatives. They can’t wash their hair on each other’s birthdays.”
Oh, that makes more sense. Considering he and Xiao are boyfriends, that means he has to take a shower now since he can’t wash his hair on Xiao’s birthda—
Wait, what?
“WAIT, WHAT?!” He can’t even tease Xiao for blushing anymore because his own face feels like it’s been set aflame. “Did you just... indirectly propose to me?!”
“I’m going to grab some clothes for when you’re done showering,” is all Xiao says before practically running out of the room.
Venti’s mouth hangs open in shock before he snaps to his senses and rushes after him. “Wait, Xiao! Xiao, answer my question! Are you saying you want to marry me?! Xiao!”
By some miracle, Venti did indeed manage to get a shower in before midnight, with only one minute left to spare when he stepped out.
And yes, he did kiss the living daylights out of Xiao once the date rolled over to his birthday.
Many times. For birthday luck, of course.
60 notes · View notes
sariahsue · 3 years
Text
A Cat of Their Own - Ch 1
Sabine checked her phone again in anxiety. There hadn't been an akuma attack in the last two days, which meant that one would begin any second. She'd been telling herself that every few minutes since breakfast. Tom was playing video games with Marinette, hunched forward over his controller. He was supposed to be getting information out of her, but it didn't look like he was trying too hard. Sabine watched them while she stirred the soup. Steam rose off the surface in faint curls and twists.
The phone screen lit up, and she grabbed it. An emergency alert. An akuma had been spotted. Civilians were advised to shelter in place until Ladybug and Cat Noir had dealt with the problem.
It was the same message that she'd read dozens of times (and ignored more often than that), but now it made her mind numb with fear. But she had to go through with their plan.
"Oh, there's another akuma attack." Her voice sounded hollow and forced. To her dismay, Marinette immediately paused her game and turned around, eyebrows pinched with concern.
"Where is it?"
"Parc Montsouris," Sabine said. "I just got the text."
Marinette looked out the window, her face steely, game controller forgotten next to her. Tom and Sabine shared a worried glance.
"Dinner won't be ready for another half hour," Sabine said, then took a deep breath to keep her voice from shaking. This was the most important stage of the plan. "Did you finish all your homework?" Please. Please, say yes. 
"Oh, uh, now that you mention it, I do remember that I forgot to do something." Marinette waved goodbye quickly, then bolted up her stairs, letting the trapdoor thump loudly behind her. Sabine came to sit next to Tom, soup completely abandoned.
"It's looking likely," he said. Sabine could only nod. Her fingers were cold, and she flexed them to try to bring life back to them, but it didn't help. Her whole body felt numb, and she wondered if she would actually go into shock.
Tom reached for the remote and switched to the news. Cat Noir flitted across the screen, fighting a giant frog monster by himself. He jumped off window ledges and rolled across the empty street to avoid a steady stream of some type of red projectile.
The camera was far away, and the angle was bad so it was difficult to tell, but he looked like a teenager himself. He was thin and lanky, like he was in the middle of a growth spurt.
"We could still be wrong," Tom said.
Nod.
Ladybug swung into view amid scattered applause. Cat Noir dodged a jet of steaming red goo that shot out of the akuma's wide mouth and shouted hello to his partner. She waved back, her cheerfulness jarring against the backdrop of the fight and Sabine's own dread.
"Do you want me to check?" Tom asked.
She couldn't even nod. The screen had her transfixed. She barely registered the shift of the sofa and the creak of the floorboards under his footsteps.
Tom reached the top of the stairs. "Marinette?" No answer. He knocked on the trapdoor, and it sounded hollow. "Marinette?"
Sabine closed her eyes as the trapdoor creaked open and Tom's footsteps disappeared into their daughter's room.
Faint screams and gasps from the television filled the room while Sabine sat and waited, holding her breath. She didn't even hear Tom come back down.
"She's not there," he said, sitting down next to her and grabbing her hand. "And the skylight's propped open."
She squeezed back tightly. "That basically confirms it," Sabine finally said. "Our daughter is Ladybug."
Tom sighed. "Yeah."
On the screen, reporters were running for shelter, hiding behind cars and in recessed doorways, Cat Noir was yelling at civilians to stay out of the way, and bright red puddles sizzled on the cracked pavement.
"What are we going to do?" Sabine asked. "How did this even happen?"
The questions she wanted to ask were why Marinette had never told them, and how could they have not noticed for so long? How was Sabine supposed to keep her own child safe?
The camera shook as the crew set up again, much farther away, but Sabine wished they could do one closeup shot of Ladybug's face. Maybe they'd made a mistake. One good look at her face, and Sabine would be able to prove herself wrong about the superheroine's identity.
The battle had looked fine up close, but from a distance it didn't look like it was going well. The super duo was on the defensive and having a hard time avoiding the frog's goo. The akuma had covered most of the available surfaces already, so they had fewer and fewer places to safely land. Ladybug hung from a lamppost. Cat Noir was just above her, perched on top of the light her yoyo was connected to.
The cameraman crept closer and closer, finally stopping when he was a mere twenty feet from the fight, and Ladybug yelled at him. Sabine squinted at the television, but the image changed too fast, focusing instead on the monster. It was a little smaller than a car. Its muscles rippled as it stalked toward the two heroes.
"We should turn this off," Tom said, though he made no move for the remote. "She's going to be fine."
"No, I need to watch."
They flinched and gasped for the next few minutes, and Sabine shrieked when Ladybug slipped and got hit in the chest. It knocked her to the ground, but she sprung back up before Cat Noir could reach her, even though he ran at top speed, ignoring the spray aimed for him and almost getting hit himself.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Fine just... Ugh! Gross!"
"You could say you're in a sticky situation," Cat Noir said, before laughing loudly at his own joke and his partner's predicament. Sabine's heart was still pounding as she clamped down on Tom's hand.
Ladybug's face tightened with the effort of holding in her laughter, then scooped a bunch of the stuff off her stomach and reached to touch him. Thick strands of it hung off her fingers.
"Oh no, not slime!" Cat Noir jumped back, dodging both Ladybug and the akuma, who shot another mouthful at them. "Slime! Whatever will I do?"
Tom pulled Sabine closer. "Well, it doesn't look like a very dangerous one."
She was sure he was trying to reassure himself as much as her, but she wasn't having any of it. "They should be taking this threat seriously," she said. "If they're overconfident..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, so it hung in the room along with her dread.
Sabine was unfortunately right to worry. The frog reared back on its hind legs and came down on the street so hard it cracked the pavement, letting out a wide stream of the goo. Ladybug, still distracted with teasing her partner, didn't react fast enough. Cat Noir did, and he jumped forward fast enough to shield her, though he got a faceful of slime. He spat it out on the ground while Sabine and Tom leaned forward in their seats, desperate to know if he was all right.
Ladybug just patted him on the back and laughed while he wiped his face with both hands.
"See?" Tom said. "See? He's fine. They're both fine."
"That thing can break pavement. What if it had landed on them?"
But the atmosphere changed as their daughter laughed with her friend. They seemed so earnest in their amusement and maybe even relaxed. The voices of the onlookers and reporters changed in response, becoming less strained. A few people laughed along with them.
The news report itself even changed. Cat Noir tried smearing the goo on a camera as a warning when it got too close, smiling the whole time, while Ladybug rolled her eyes at his antics.
Her parents watched their exchange in interest. Despite the levity they were injecting into the fight, Cat Noir was obviously still very protective of their daughter, which they were both grateful for. He pushed her out of the way of another jet of slime when she was distracted by her own Lucky Charm, and he didn't hesitate to continue fighting without her while she took a few minutes to set up a trap for the monster. They didn't miss the adoration on his face as he watched her.
Ladybug – Marinette – was protective of her partner too. When the monster got too close to him, she would yell out a warning. When it landed on top of him with another sickening crack, she dropped the trap she was crafting and leapt forward to wrench the monster off of him. To anyone else, Ladybug still looked calm and in control, but to her parents, they saw the panic that briefly flashed across her face when she realized her partner might be hurt.
That delay made the fight take a little longer than it might otherwise have been. At the end, Ladybug dashed off, hand over an earring. Cat Noir waved at her as she left, a hesitant smile on his face, then turned and comforted the frog victim, who was now nothing more than a disheveled and confused-looking man in his fifties.
"She'll be coming home soon," Tom said. "Should we go up there and wait for her?"
"Not yet," Sabine said.
The reporters were trying to get close again, no doubt to interview Cat Noir and the latest victim. The poor man looked shaken, and Cat Noir did his best to shield him from the reporters, finally picking him up and carrying him away.
"We need to talk to her about this," Tom said.
They fought against impossible odds with laughter, though they were both just children. And Cat Noir cared about their daughter so much, that was plain. How deep did that go?
"We need to talk to him too," she said.
Read Chapter Two
***
Author’s note: This is a reblogging of an old thing that I originally posted two years ago. I’ve altered it slightly. (Content-wise, nothing is different.) If you’re curious, the original can be found here.
Chapter two is almost completely done, and I think chapter three is in okay shape, so hopefully those updates will both be next week. 
@tbehartoo​ @redhoodsdoll @salsyy301 @lunadensmidnightprowl
395 notes · View notes
yannowhatigiveup · 3 years
Text
My One And Only - Chapter 17
Previous | Next | Master List
I have posted this chapter and I have had as much sleep as an insomniac can get. After next chapter, maybe, I’ll get to the scene that I have been wanting but also dreading to write so that’s something.
"...You're Ladybug, aren't you?"
————————————————————
Marinette's eyes widened, she didn't expect Alya to come to that recognition but as she gave it a second thought, it made sense. Luckily the pain in her chest had subsided so she could think clearly. The bluenette turned away from her best friend, nodding her head.
"Oh my god. You're Ladybug, my best friend is Ladybug!" Alya gasped, the situation truly hitting her, "Oh god you're Ladybug, the same Ladybug that got stabbed! Oh my god Mari are you okay?!"
The bluenette took a few long breaths before answering. "Yeah, I will be"
The aspiring reporter shook her head, "No, what happens if that happens during class? You might not have enough energy to stay conscious! I'll go tell Miss Bustier to let us off for today then we go to Damian's since he's the likely candidate to be Noir" Marinette knew not to underestimate her best friend's capabilities but she couldn't help but be stunned at her accurate conclusion. Hesitantly, she agreed and only after the bluenette was safely escorted out of the bathroom did Alya make her way to their classroom. After what felt like an eternity, though was probably only a few minutes, the amber-haired girl returned. "Come on, let's go get your stuff"
Once her belongings were collected, the two left the school building and towards the Grand Paris. While one hand was steadying the bluenette, Alya had her phone in the other. 'Texting Dami probably' The walk completely silent, but it was a comfortable silence. The aching in her chest would certainly appear in her voice and she didn't want to worry her best friend more than she already was. Marinette also knew that Alya was waiting to reach to hotel room before she asked questions, a good hero never discussed trivial matters out of the mask when it wasn't necessary, and Alya was definitely a good hero.
Soon enough, they arrived at the hotel and made their way to Damian's room. The green-eyed boy greeted them as they went inside, taking Mari from Alya so that she could lean on him. Once all three occupants were safely secured in the room, their three kwamis came up to check on their guardian.
Tikki's voice came first. "Marinette! Are you okay? I tried healing it but it didn't work I'm sorry"
"It's not your fault Tikki. It's oka-"
"No! It's not okay, Marinette! You're in pain! Plagg, Trixx is there anyway to get rid of it?" The red kwami anxiously floated towards her fellow companions.
"It's was caused by Hawkmoth" Plagg supplied. "Only Nooroo can remove his magic"
Damian hummed thoughtfully while Alya, though less panicked, was still slightly alarmed. There was still one question that left unanswered. What were they going to do now? Marinette's train of thought kicked in. 'We might have to expand our team sooner than expected...'
"What's the plan?" It was Alya who spoke, the reporter recognised the look of thought on her best friend's face.
"I think... I think we need to bring in more heroes" the bluenette replied hesitantly. "I'll give it some more thought before we bring anyone in"
Alya nodded. "Say, do you think I should practise my illusions? I could try to make them more fluid and realistic" Marinette approved for Alya to practice and watched Rena Rouge jump from rooftop to rooftop. The bluenette turned to her boyfriend.
"I'll look at the copy of the Grimoire, maybe it'll reveal a way to heal me, or subdue the pain at least." The blue-eyed girl blinked as an idea popped in her head. "Why don't you join me? You tend to pick up on things quite quickly so maybe I could teach you how to read the language of the guardians"
Damian sat on the chair, gently pulled Marinette on his lap and peered over her shoulder, looking at the digital copy of the book on her phone. "Learning an ancient language could be interesting"
~~~
The green-eyed boy chuckled ever so slightly as the bluenette kept whining about how he managed to pick this up much faster than she did when Master Fu taught her. After some time, Marinette decided to go check on Rena Rouge in her hero persona, she took one of Damian's hoodies before leaving, though. This went unnoticed by the owner but not by his kwami. Plagg snickered at Marinette's sneaky antics before asking, demanding, for some Camembert. Damian ordered a selection of cheese to see if there was a substitute to the stinky cheese, there was no way he would go around smelling like a used sock. The black kwami didn't complain since it means he would have more cheese. As Plagg was eating somewhere in the hotel room, a ringing sound came from Damian's phone. Thinking it was one of his annoying brothers, he left it idle for a moment before reaching to answer the call. It was a face time request. From Jon. Pressing the accept button, Damian placed his phone on the coffee table while waiting for the call to connect.
"Hi Dami!!" Was what was first said when the call finally connected. He didn't necessarily like the nickname, it was reserved for Marinette and Marinette only.
"Hello, Kent" he replied, his eyes briefly glanced over to the black kwami in his room. Then he remembered something that Marinette had mentioned momentarily.
Marinette had pulled her phone out from her purse and pulled Damian in for a picture, Tikki on her shoulder and Plagg on Damian's head. Wanting to make her happy, Damian let his lips twitch ever so slightly, having a small smile, one that his family would scarcely see, on his face.
"Don't the kwamis appear on camera?" He asked when she had finsihed. The bluenette turned to smile at him.
"Their magic prevents them from being recorded or heard on camera, so no" Marinette grabbed her phone back from where she returned it. She handed it towards him where the picture was shown and sure enough, there were no kwamis insight.
"Magic never fails to impress me"
The bluenette giggled. "I know"
"So how's the City of Love? Found anyone yet?" Jon's tone wasn't in a teasing manner, like most of his brothers would usually have, instead his voice held genuine curiosity. Again, Damian noted how much Jon would act like an excited puppy.
"It's adequate" He stated simply, he purposefully didn't answer the second question. Unfortunately for him, Jon managed to pickup on the fact.
"No. Freakin'. Way. You found someone! What's their name? What're they like? Do you have a crush or you and them together? Wh-" His voice was cut off by the sound of Damian's hotel door opening. He was thankful for the interruption before realising it was Marinette who entered, wearing his hoodie.
Completely forgetting that Jon was on call, Damian turned to the bluenette. "Is that my hoodie?"
Marinette, noticing Damian was speaking in English, switched to English as well. "I may have taken it as I left but you have no proof" She made her way to the couch, hugging her boyfriend from behind before noticing the boy on the phone. "Oh hello!" She greeted.
"Woah! Hi! Are you Damian's girlfriend by any chance?" The big wide smile that appeared on his face when she confirmed his suspicions, could rival her own. "What's your name?"
"Marinette"
"It's nice to meet you Marinette! I'm Jon, Dami's best friend!" He reminded her of Adrien, both had excitable personalities and they were both enthusiastic rays of sunshine.
"Self-proclaimed" Damian muttered under his breath.
Marinette, though having a smile on her face, jabbed the green-eyed boy in the ribs with her elbows, "Be nice, Dami"
"My name and nice are not usually in the same sentence" He smirked at her offended expression.
The bluenette huffed as she folded her arms across her chest. "Well when you're with me you're much more than nice"
"Well you are my girlfriend, it's hard not to" Marinette shot a playful glare at Damian, which was by no means intimidating in the slightest. "Such as right now, I feel like I'm being intimidated by a cupcake"
The blue-eyed girl's cheeks dusted with a light pink before she turned her head towards something in the room, muttering incoherently. Damian couldn't pick up what she was saying so he pulled her into his body, her begrudgingly leaning into the embrace.
Jon could tell that Damian had gotten soft and was completely smitten for the noirette. In all honesty, he was happy he could find someone like her. Despite only briefly talking, he could tell she was a pure soul. "Well I gotta get going. See you lovebirds later!" And the call disconnected.
"You're best friend seems like the cheerful type"
"Self-procla-" A soft pair of lips on his own cut off the words he was about to say. He didn't mind, he was just annoyed that this was a very convenient way to get him to shut up.
"Self-proclaimed or not-" Marinette began after she pulled away "-you still care about him greatly, much like you do with your brothers."
"You always try to think of the best in others" He muttered, his voice muffled as he placed a kiss on her temple. "Where's Cèsaire?"
"She returned to school, hey do you want to get something to eat while I'm still here?"
"Sure"
~~~
The two had sat down in the dining area, both scanning the menu for something that caught their eye, when an akuma made it's presence known. The couple quickly came to the the scene, the Akuma seemed to be a ten year old girl. Le Chien and Rena Rouge were quickly to arrive as well, with Le Chien providing the information on her backstory.
"Apparently, from what I heard, she got ridiculed for getting a participation reward" The dog-themed hero supplied, eyes dropping ever so slightly. "Poor her"
"If we deal with this swiftly, we'll be able to help her" Ladybug called upon her lucky charm and was given a long, spotted javelin. The spotted heroine noticed how the girl's weapon was also a javelin, just with a more pointier end. Her eyes darted all over the scene, first to Noir who was duelling the Akuma, then to the two heroes at her side. Quickly formulating a plan, Ladybug turned to Rena Rouge. "I'll need you to create illusions of the two of us, we'll able to confuse the Akuma and while it's confused-" The spotted heroine turned to Le Chien. "-you'll be able to identify the akumatized object"
Rena and Chien nodded while positioning themselves to attack. Ladybug, javelin in hand, joined Noir in the duel. Rena joined too after a music note was played and many clones of the hero team were created. The Akuma, however, was tactical and had managed to narrow it's opponents down to the original trio. This was when the main part of her plan was to take place. Ladybug slowly distanced herself from the fight, sending a signal to Noir to get him to do the same.
Once noticing her signal, Noir took action. "Rena, fall back" The fox-themed heroine shot a shocked look at the black cat hero before hesitantly obliging. With all three heroes equal length away, the Akuma struggled to decide who to get rid of first, Ladybug had other plans. Using the moment of uncertainty to her advantage, the spotted-heroine charged at the Akuma, knocking the Akuma's javelin out of their reach with her own. While Ladybug was in the air, jumping over the Akuma, Le Chien had not a moment to spare.
"Fetch!" His boomerang lit up and he threw it at the Akuma with great force, the glowing boomerang snatched one of the many medallions resting on the Akuma's body before returning. A purple butterfly emerged as the dog-themed hero threw the medal on the floor.
A spotted yo-yo was quick to capture the fluttering creature. "Gotcha. Bye-bye little butterfly" Once freed from it's magical imprisonment, a white butterfly emerged. Javelin in hand, Ladybug threw it in the air, erupting into many magical ladybugs. "Miraculous Ladybug!" Once the ladybugs subsided, all four heroes fist pumped.
"Pound it!"
They were interrupted by the sound of three miraculous beeping. Sharing a chuckle, the superhero team parted ways, Ladybug and Noir leaving together of course. They arrived to the sound of Damian's phone being bombarded with notifications. With a sigh, the green-eyed boy went to check what the messages were while Marinette brushed through her hair. He hummed.
"What is it?" The bluenette asked, placing the brush down on one of the cabinets.
"Your uncle released his album, the song you provided the vocals for has already reached number one in a few countries" Marinette blinked in astonishment.
"I- already? Wow..." She couldn't really figure out what to say. In her defence, what do you say in reply? "Hang on, wait I'll be back" The girl left and Damian decided to occupy himself by rereading the digital copy of the Grimoire that his girlfriend had sent him. It was quite a simple language once you get used to it, most of the symbols were shaped similarly and it was quite an easy concept. Around twelve minutes later, Marinette returned with a few boxes. "I brought some of the things I made for your family. I thought it would be best to give it to you now before I forget"
Damian removed the weight in her arms while smiling. "Thank you, Angel"
"Anytime, also-" The bluenette took something that was hidden behind her back, since she had an oversized hoodie it was easy to. "-I made this for you" It was a hoodie of her own design, ever so subtly Robin themed.
Putting the boxes near his suitcase, Damian walked back over to Mari, delicately handling the woven fabric almost as if he were in fear of ruining it. The green-eyed boy slipped in on, it fit like a glove with a little bit of leniency to provide warmth. Turning back to the bluenette, Damian found her analyzing the piece of clothing in him, as if looking for mistakes needing to be fixed.
"Does it fit okay? Is it comfortable? Do you like the design?" Marinette kept rambling on with questions about the artwork that he was wearing. Walking closer, he enveloped the bluenette in a hug, her face buried in his chest while he stroked his fingers through her midnight hair.
"Thank you, Habibti. I am very grateful for this gift, but you really didn't need to make me one"
She looked up at him and huffed. "I wanted to and besides-" her arms snaked up his chest and made their way around neck, her fingers lightly tugging on the hairs on his nape. "-it looks good on you"
He hummed, his hands trailing down to her waist, "if it was made by you, it's bound to be" The green-eyed boy placed a slow but heartfelt kiss on the forehead. "I'm not sure about you, but I'd like to listen to the completed song"
Marinette whined but went to get her phone anyway, Damian chuckled at her antics before returning to the pages of the Grimoire he was reading. In the background, he heard the plucking of a strings instrument followed by chimes from what could've been a triangle. The genre itself wasn't what first came to mind when someone mentioned 'Jagged Stone' but the man was fully capable of creating great songs in any music style. His point was further supported when Marinette's voice echoed through the music. Damian unknowingly smiled as he listened to his beloved's voice, but something else caught his attention. Flicking through the pages, the green-eyed boy came across a page relating to both the Ladybug miraculous and the Butterfly miraculous. Briefly scanning the ancient letters, he caught the bluenette's attention.
"Angel, did I translate this correctly? If I did then..."
Marinette, intrigued, came over to peer over her boyfriend's shoulder and found him looking on a page she hadn't seen before. She scanned it hastily, her palm covering her mouth as she finished. Damian looked over at her expression, meaning that he had translated it correctly.
"...I believe I found a way to subdue Hawkmoth"
———
Taglist: @little-bluestar,@miracleofadisaster,@frieddonutsweets,@jjmjjktth,@genderfluidmoma,@starlit-dreaming,@icerosecrystal,@lolieg,@kashlyn, @mochegato,@eggadoodle,@walkingthroughonautopilot, @toodaloo-kangaroo,@lady-bee-fechin,@weebjai1
88 notes · View notes
Text
Bothersome
Universe: Harry Potter
Character: Severus Snape
Type: F!Reader insert (You, Yours)
Warnings: Sexual content.
Prompt:I have a request if that’s okay!! Love your work 🥺 could you do a Snape x adult!reader where she is his Potions assistant and is (almost) better at potion making as Snape... so friendly rivalry please? Can be fluffy or smutty or both!! Thank you 🥺👉👈
Note: Guys I haven’t written smut in ages.. it might be crap... Also I was very tired for the smut stuff so if it makes no sense I am sorry. I have not proof read.
Part 2
-
Everyday you got to the dungeons to either assist Severus with his classes or your own learning, you found yourself smiling. There was something so amusing to you about how much you clearly irritated him. You had an answer to every one of his snide comments, always just as snide. It felt like joking between friends for you though you knew it annoyed him to no end.
You laughed to yourself as you descended the stairs and got to his class just before his first lesson to set some things up. The door was cracked open as it usually was now since he had gotten tires of your knocking everyday despite him telling you to just come in, you always waited for him to answer.
“Morning.” You muttered and shut the door behind you, he never responded to your greetings so you saw no use in the enthusiasm- faux enthusiasm.
“Fire Protection.” Severus was never one to dawdle so off you went to get the right ingredients and set them out for the class and a small batch for yourself as usual for demonstrative purposes which is where you stopped for a moment.
“Are you going to set me on fire?” You raised a brow as you turned around to look at him sat at his desk.
“Not if you do it right.” He raised his own brow back at you.
“Thought as much.” You mumbled.
“I hope you’re not attached to your hair or your clothes.” He quipped and you laughed, “It’s extremely difficult to perfect to the point where nothing is singed.” He smirked to himself but left an opening for your return.
“Perhaps you require more practice then.” You watched him for his reaction and he frowned at you, unsure what you really meant. “You mean to say you naturally look dishevelled?” His frown deepened disapprovingly and he turned his attention back to scribbling on his parchment while you laughed to yourself. You weren’t seriously taking a dig at his looks, it was common but silent knowledge between you both that it was just being catty and sarcastic with eachother.
Once the sixth years had all sat down and settled Severus began the lesson, explaining that since the Tri wizard tournaments were upon us they would be looking into more dangerous and protective potions, starting with fire protection. He looked at you where you stood at the side of the classroom, leaning on a bookshelf with your arms folded. You took the hint and came forwards as he walked himself to the back of the classroom and you stood where he had been previously, taking a sip from the draught you had brewed earlier.
“If brewed correctly you should be completely resistant to fire. Perfection is key. The more refined it is, the less singeing and burning occurs. Let’s see how well you’ve done.” He looked at you now and brought his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at you looking fairly amused with himself.
“Incendio.” He flicked his wrist and a jet of flames came flying at you. You stood perfectly still and took a deep breath, trusting in your abilities to draught this potion. Flames engulfed your body and danced across your skin for a few moments as if you were truly on fire before dissipating to reveal your untouched form and Severus stood in front of you hiding his brief moment of concern. You turned around on the spot to show your entirely unharmed self, no singeing or anything though you did take a few steps backwards to pat down the tapestry on the wall where the corner was a little on fire.
Severus looked you up and down desperate to find some form of damage as the students just stared in awe and his eyes narrowed at you. He went on to talk about the potion itself and then left them to make their own.
“Impressive. No marks whatsoever.” He raised his brow.
“You sound more disappointed than impressed.” You remarked and he scoffed. “I can’t decide whether you knew I would be fine or if you truly wanted me to burn.” You smirked mischievously, waiting for him to bite.
“I shouldn’t have to babysit you.” He brushed past you to go sit down again.
“You don’t need to. You and I are more alike than you think.” You turned to face him again and approached his desk.
“You reckon do you?” He glanced at you with disinterest.
“We are both waiting for positions we can’t have despite being far better at the subject than the current occupant.” You could barely contain yourself for that zinger and his head snapped up to you, a fiery glare consuming his eyes. Good thing you had that potion. You smiled smugly then turned your attention to walk around the class to see how they were doing.
The class did well for the most part and only one of the pieces of parchment for testing actually caught fire. Once the class was dismissed you cleared up what was left to clear and went on with the rest of the day.
-
That evening you went back to the dungeons as requested and walked on. Severus was still writing and said nothing as you approached.
“What are you writing? A letter of resignation?” You glanced over his shoulder and he sighed.
“They are lesson plans for you. I shall be away for the day tomorrow so you will be taking my lessons.” He explained as you stared at the pages of writing.
“Are you writing a whole script?! I don’t need all that.” You wouldn’t read all that, no way.
“Well,” He put his quill down, “Seeing as you think you’re better at this than I am. Maybe I won’t leave you anything to go by.” He folded his arms.
“Notes would be fine.” You mirrored his attitude.
“Lost your fire now have you?” He retained his stance.
“No I am still better than you, I just wouldn’t want to confuse the students and ruin their education.” You shrugged and pursed your lips.
“Is that so?” He wasn’t buying it.
“Let’s see your fire protection then, Professor.” You emphasised his title as he stood up. Wordlessly, he waltzed to his store room to get the ingredients as you waited, surprised he took you up on your offer.
No words were spoken as he quickly brewed you a draught and handed it to you. You scoffed but took it regardless, you should have written a will.
“Incendio.” He wasted no time in setting you on fire. Once again the flames danced around you for a moment then dissipated and you immediately looked down at yourself to look for damage but there was none. Severus however was so confident in himself that he walked away to sit down again, as if to reclaim his throne. Quickly you waved your sleeve over one of the many candles that lit the room dimly.
You strode over to his desk once more and put your arm in front of his face.
“Severus.” You waved it a little as he looked up then grabbed your sleeve to inspect. He looked mortified, confused, defeated, sad, angry and just about any other emotion would briefly flicker across his face.
“This doesn’t mean anything.” He finally spoke through gritted teeth.
“It means I’m better at fire protection potions than you are.” You smirked and he watched you for a moment, concentrating on your face. You were confused for a moment before you felt an intrusion in your mind.
“Don’t you dare.” You warned but he stood up smirking.
“You cheated.” He announced proudly.
“You invaded my mind.” You countered and he took a step around his desk closer to you, your heartbeat rising.
“You cheated.” He repeated, his smirk somehow getting more devilish as he advanced on you, backing you up across the room.
“Get out of my head.” You insisted, trying to stop him from digging too far but his advances were distracting you. You hit a pillar behind you, stopping dead in your tracks and he leaned in closer.
“You’re very sneaky. Very sneaky indeed.” Your heart was in your throat as your pupils dilated and fixed on his own. Why had he changed so suddenly? He could see what you couldn’t see that’s why. You teased him for fun yes, but it was fun for you because you enjoyed his retaliation, the way he would glare at you or intimidate you. It thrilled you.
He had seen too much, you wanted him out so you closed the door to your mind. Surely you could have done it earlier though? You shook off your thoughts.
“That was low.” You spoke in a deeper tone and puffed your chest out but he stayed leaned in, close to your face.
“So was cheating.” He countered, still smirking away.
“I didn’t invade your mind.” You feebly argued. Truthfully, you were flustered and frustrated.
“It seems to me that you don’t need me to do that to be on your mind at all. You seem to be doing it just fine all by yourself.” He scoffed, making you blush and drop your chin a little. How embarrassing, more so that you didn’t really know it yourself but with it in the open like this, it made sense. Had you really been so blind to this?
Lost in your own thoughts for a moment you forgot where you were and that Severus was with you, the source of your predicament. Your mind was racing now and situations you’d never really considered before were circulating. Thoughts you would not allow him to see for sure but you felt him pushing, trying to see.
“I told you to stay out.” Your gaze snapped up to meet his own and you pushed back, trying to see his thoughts now but he simply scoffed.
“Not as good as you thought?” He teased and you rolled your eyes. “What are you trying so hard to keep from me hm?” He leaned in to watch your eyes but you held your ground, needing to turn the tables somehow. Alright so he knew he consumed your thoughts sometimes but he wasn’t pushing you away.
“Why are you so keen to see?” Your brow raised and his dropped, clearly not expecting this sort of retaliation. “Did you like what you saw?” You pressed and folded your arms, now casually leaning against the pillar with your head leaned back, fully meeting his gaze. He stood for a moment searching your eyes and biding his time.
At a desperate attempt you felt him trying to push into your head again.
“You did didn’t you?” You pursed your lips and thought 'fuck it' as you opened your mind back up. You watched in amusement as his eyes flickered between your eyes, seeing all these lewd images and thoughts you had involving him. This was still embarrassing but he wanted to know, he was looking for something.
“That’s enough.” He snapped out of his daze and drew himself out of your head trying to collect his thoughts for a moment but there was no way he could compose himself after that.
“Is that what you wanted?” There was an almighty shift in your energy. Your confidence had sky rocketed since figuring out he was somewhat in the same page. His energy then shifted too as his arm came to rest on the pillar behind you next to your head and his expression shifted into an almost lustful gaze.
“What if it was?” This man insisted on playing games but then again so did you. You refused to make the first move however, you pictured him pushing you against that pillar and that’s what you were going to get.
“I just hope you enjoyed the show.” You sighed and shifted your body as if you were going to love out the way but his other arm land on your shoulder and pinned you back but he said nothing. A brief look flickered across his face as if he didn’t mean to do that but he was quickly back to his lustful glare. You were impatient now.
“Are you going to do something or am I just here to keep the pillar warm?” Nothing. “I see. Lost this battle too then huh.” You swatted his arm off his shoulder and turned to move out of the way but he immediately grabbed your forearm and twisted it, forcing you face first into the pillar and used his entire body to pin you against it now.
“You are nothing but a pain in my backside.” He growled into your ear and you scoffed.
“Ditto.” Your eyes flickered downwards to your own backside, motioning briefly to the irony of his statement. His other hand went from the pillar to grabbing your waist making you jump a little.
“I’m going to ruin you.” He squeezed against you quite forcefully and your knees could have given out there and then if he didn’t spun you back around to face him again. His leg now stopping you from bring your legs together and one hand back it your waist. Merlin you had no idea how much you wanted to hear that.
“Took you long enough.” Your lips barely had time to rest after you spoke when the arm he held on to was pinned above your head and his lips were on yours. His kiss was rough and desperate, perhaps because you had riled him up so much before and yet you wanted him closer to you. With your free hand you grabbed the edge of his coat that you could reach and pulled him flush against you, sighing into his lips. Needless to say it was only going to get more heated now.
He placed your arm onto his shoulder and grabbed your thigh, pulling it up around his hips and encouraging you to wrap your legs around him so you let go of his jacket, threw your other arm over his shoulder and hopped up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your only parted lips briefly as he spun around and took a few steps to his desk once again which you were then placed upon and lips finally parted.
You opened your eyes to find him still fairly close to your face and his hands either side of you in the desk for balance. His pupils were completely blown out as he watched you for a moment as if figuring out what he wanted based in your own expression. Your hands still over his shoulders came to rest either side of his jawline and you attempted to pull him in but he stood solid as a rock and you pouted, wondering if that was it or if you were to be moved elsewhere to continue. He shook his head as if he was angry that he had to do this and he could not stop. He relented and kissed you again, grabbing your thigh and squeezing pretty hard so you knotted one hand into his hair.
Once he parted from you once more to take a breath, you wasted no time in dripping your arms down and grabbing the waistline on his trousers, unbuckling his belt then unbuttoning the trousers and pulling them down slightly. He pushed your hands away and pushed you down forcefully with one hand to the chest making your head hit the table.
“Get up.” He demanded so you got to your feet, “Turn around.” You had to brush against him to turn as he left you no room. “Lift up your skirt and bend over.” Was his final instruction and you slowly followed his orders but too slow for him. You were halfway down to the desk with your skirt almost baring you when his palm landed square between your shoulders and you were pushed down onto the desk with such effort that your skirt flew half way up your back.
He wasted no time pulling down your underwear and giving you a sharp smack across your bared cheeks making you squeak. He did this couple more times as if he was just playing around before getting started. You heard the jingle of his belt buckle as his hand worked against his own underwear and you lay in wait, biting your lip in anticipation.
Finally he kicked your feet out so that your legs parted and you lay flat to the desk. His hand moving from your back to your hip and the other guiding him to press his tip against you, sliding up and down slowly, gliding effortlessly with how wet you were. Once happy with how wet you felt he poised himself in the right position and had both hands now on your hips, pushing himself ever so slowly into you. Somehow you managed to make no sound but you shivered.
He did this a few more times until he grew impatient and thrust harder into you, earning a cry out for his efforts. He picked up the pace for a while before slowing down again until he stopped still inside you and rocked his hips instead.
Damn he was good.
You moaned through tightly pressed lips and you heard him release a jagged breath so you moved your hips with him, trying to get motion to rock back onto him but there was no room to move until he pulled back slowly so you took at upon yourself to ride him like that as best you could. He groaned softly but had grown impatient and took over once more, this time with relentless force.
He fucked you so hard you had to hold onto the edge of the desk to keep yourself and the desk from moving too much. Your moans reverberated off of the wood and echoed around the room slightly. He was absolutely relentless up until he grabbed your hair which meant he was nearing his climax and so were you so you brought your head up with his grip and squeezed your thighs together.
He grunted through his teeth as he came as your voice starting cracking through your own moans. After a few moments he removed himself from you and tucked himself away as if nothing ever happened.
“Stay there.” He said and went to grab a clean cloth for you to clean yourself up with as he diverted his attention elsewhere for a moment. Once you were done you mumbled your thanks and turned to him.
‘Would it be awkward now?’ You worried as you looked at him, your worry obviously showing so he cupped your cheek and kissed you gently as reassurance.
“Does this mean you’re giving me your job?” You grinned as he pulled away.
“Don’t push it.” He glared for a moment then chuckled softly.
261 notes · View notes