#form of anxiety which she would judge me for so hard and i just said it once but my sister told me that she could see that i didnt mean that
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CONNECTING ARTS | tasm!peter parker
PAIRING: photographer!tasm!peter parker x painter!fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 8.4k
SUMMARY: peter is slowly losing hope for his love of photography when he finds himself at a loss of inspiration. to give his passion a last chance to prove it’s worth holding on, he decides to do one last project: to capture a stranger’s life for 1 week. unbeknownst to him, with every click of his camera, he’ll slowly fall in love. unbeknownst to you, with every stroke of your paintbrush, you’ll realize your lives are more connected than you both initially thought.
WARNINGS: mentions of death, cursing/swearing, parent's negligence, reader being an orphan, anxiety, depression, inaccuracies (?) there may be some because i’m not a photographer nor a painter. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]
AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is angsty towards the end but it’s hurt/comfort and there are more fluff moments so the destination is sweet street instead of angst avenue. this took so long to write but it’s only bc i added a little bit of mystery here about the person in the reader’s painting and their pasts. i hope y’all forgive me. enjoy reading!
DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS CONNECTING ARTS (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).
It’s truly terrifying how a person could suddenly lose interest in something they have spent their whole life yearning for.
This was Peter’s greatest fear—to watch the once-ignited flame of passion within him get slowly extinguished. Photography was supposed to be his lifeline. How could he let himself get drained of something that was his escapism?
Was it his surroundings, his personal life, or just life in general that made him uninterested in his hobby? He had no answer. He truly, certainly, absolutely did not know.
He stared at the camera that was atop the center table, and as he did so, flashbacks of the joyous moments he spent capturing people and places struck him. He had held that camera for years—garnering both little and grand memories that were far too special and memorable to forget. He couldn’t just let it go.
One more chance, he thought.
“Okay, let’s try again,” he said to himself. “One last time.”
So he grabbed his camera and went to the nearest place he thought would spark even just a pinch of inspiration—the park.
The busy yet calm buzz of people's chatter met him as the wind blew softly against his skin. He walked a few yards until he saw a bench which he sat on almost immediately. He raised the camera close to his eyes, adjusting the lens as he took pictures every now and then while scanning the surroundings.
A couple on a bench that was turned back from him and facing the city bay. The guy had his arm around the girl’s shoulders while her head rested on his.
Click.
A mother gently pushing her child that was giggling so hard at the swing.
Click.
A lovely couple walking the grounds, holding each other’s hands without an ounce of care in a world that judged them because they were both women.
Click.
A large oak tree from which the outline beautifully clashed with the slow setting of the sun.
Click.
Suddenly, his hands seemingly moved on their own as the camera panned over downwards without him even noticing.
A girl underneath an oak tree, gracefully sitting on a paint-covered cream blanket. Art supplies were messily scattered over the soft blanket while the girl was drawing something on a canvas in front of her.
Click.
He zoomed in, focusing on her face. He couldn’t help it, she was mesmerizing. The girl must’ve felt it because she looked straight at the camera, piercing his eye that was behind the lens.
He put down the camera instantly, mouthing an apology towards you as he realized he probably distracted you from your drawing. You shook your head, letting a small smile form on your lips. You gestured for him to come over, and without hesitation, he did.
You quickly but carefully moved some of your things to give him space on the blanket to sit on. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “What are you drawing?” he asked.
“Someone,” you replied, showing him the canvas. There wasn’t much on it at the moment, just the initial sketch of a person’s body and a white fence in the background. The person did not have a face yet.
Click.
Peter captured the canvas with his camera. As he looked up, he saw your puzzled face staring at him. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I haven’t asked for your permission to take pictures of you and your work. I can delete it if you want to.”
“No, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “I’m just curious, do you take pictures of everything?”
“No, usually just the interesting stuff,” he chuckled at your question.
“So you think I’m interesting?” you winked playfully.
“I…” he started to say, but then stopped before smiling. “Yeah, I do. The most interesting, actually.”
He noticed your cheeks redden, but before you could think of a reply, Peter’s eyes slightly widened as an idea dawned upon him.
“Can I ask something crazy?” he asked.
“I love crazy,” you beamed with excitement, putting down your canvas to face him. “Go ahead.”
“I was thinking… if maybe I could capture the process of you completing your artwork? Like… capture your life for a week?”
He noticed the slight skepticism in your eyes. “I know this is kinda weird considering we just met but I–I just think you’re really cool a-and awesome and I’m really fascinated by you.”
“You know, usually I don’t entertain strangers much more let them stay in my apartment… but I have a good feeling about you,” you admitted. “So…” you nodded.
“Okay, just so we’re clear, you are agreeing for me to capture and document your life for a week?”
“Yes.”
Perfect. This was the exact thing he needed. A good and worthy ending for his slowly dying passion.
“I feel like shit,” he said suddenly. “I haven’t even asked your name. I’m Peter,” he offered his hand.
You chuckled as you shook his hand. “I’m Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. How do you want this to work?” he didn’t want to decide by himself since it’s your life he would be documenting in the first place.
“Uhh–here,” you ripped a piece from a sketchbook you weren’t using. With a pencil you pulled from the back of your ear, you wrote your address on the piece of paper. “That’s um–where I live. Come by tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.”
Peter smiled on his way home.
He was ready for his very last project.
DAY 1.
You awoke from the same ray of sunshine that visited you every morning through your large window. You wasted no time as you made your bed and took a shower quickly. Normally, you wouldn’t even bother to leave your bed for at least half an hour after waking up but today was different. You had a visitor and for some reason, you wanted to impress him. After all, he was the first person to ever visit your place.
The place that you called home was a studio apartment with a loft bedroom. You had no usual living room because you turned it into a painting studio. The only places where paint—with exception of white—didn’t reach the wall or the floor were the small kitchen area and the loft bedroom where you sleep every night. But above all things, your favorite part of your apartment was the large window that occupied the entire wall facing the first floor and the loft floor.
After dressing yourself in a white shirt and brown overalls, you decided to put your hair up in a ponytail. The moment you started to heat water for your morning coffee, you heard a knock on your door.
“Hi,” Peter greeted.
“Hello,” you smiled in return, opening the door wider for him to enter your humble abode.
Peter’s mouth slightly parted from the aesthetic of your apartment. His eyes scanned the place like a child in a candy store. He saw the canvases on the floor that were both empty and painted on, and the large wooden table in the middle of the room that had art supplies and an unreal amount of colorful paints scattered on top of it.
Click.
And from that moment on, he knew your place was something else.
“This place is amazing,” he complimented.
“Thank you,” you said, a proud grin presenting on your lips. “Coffee?”
“Thanks,” he smiled, accepting your offer. “How long have you had this place?”
“Since I was 19. A year after I moved out from the orph–uh from my old home.” Thankfully, Peter was too busy admiring the place to even notice you almost slipping out.
No one gets to know your past. That was your life rule. The present and the future were what mattered.
“Here,” you placed the mug atop the side table near the entrance. There was a small couch—noticeably thrifted—beside it where Peter sat. “Careful, it’s hot,” you warned him as he tried to hold the mug and drink while still being distracted by your paintings.
You sat beside him, sipping your coffee as well. “How did you get into photography?” you asked.
“I think I’ve always been interested in the art of photography since I was a kid. I’ve always loved taking photos back then and I think it’s really cool that memories can be captured in the form of pictures forever.”
You agreed, nodding your head. “Same goes with painting. Sometimes, I paint my surroundings, mostly people that I see around me; sometimes, I have pictures as my reference; sometimes, I like storing memories in my head and then painting them when I get my hands on a canvas. But the best thing about it though is that I can paint not what I see but what I want to see.”
The last line you said seemed to get his full attention. “What do you mean by that?” his face showed an intrigued expression.
“It means that I can paint whatever I want. I can paint the past, the present, and the future. And sometimes, you hate the past and the present, so you just change them in your paintings. And then when you start hating the future too, you just paint what you want the future to be. Basically, what I’m saying is, you can manipulate life through a painting. Reality and imagination share a room, and there’s really no limit.”
There was something about the words you said that made Peter realize just how deep of a person you are. It wasn’t just your paintings he was mesmerized by anymore, but also you. He would love to get to know you more.
DAY 2.
Same time, same place, different day.
“Good morning,” he greeted you once you opened the door. You let him in, excited for the day because you planned on teaching him how to paint. It wasn’t your idea, he asked you yesterday if he could be the first person you teach how to paint and you accepted the challenge. You didn’t consider yourself a good teacher, but oh well, you weren’t going to back down from a challenge.
“Coffee?” you offered.
“Oh no. You promised to teach me how to paint and I would very much like to start learning now,” he had a huge excited grin plastered on his face.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” you smirked proudly.
“How do you know which canvas to use? There are so many sizes,” he asked, standing over the piles of empty canvases on the floor.
“It depends on what you’re going to paint. Do you have something on your mind?”
“I-uh… no? I thought the idea would come naturally honestly.”
“That’s fine! Sometimes, it comes naturally. Sometimes, it doesn’t and you have to push yourself until it eventually comes.”
“Why would you push yourself if it doesn't come naturally? Wouldn’t you just take a break and wait?”
“I could wait, But I prefer not to. I push myself because I want to paint and the lack of ideas won’t hinder me from painting. This is my passion, I want to do this forever. If I took a pause every time I had no idea what to paint, most of my paintings wouldn’t exist and I would’ve given up this passion years ago.”
“What about rest? Do you even take a rest?” he asked as you handed him a small-sized canvas. You thought it was the best for beginners.
You chuckled lightly. “I’m human, Peter. Of course, I rest. But not when I know I’m getting uninterested in painting. When I get over that phase and I’m inspired again, that’s when I rest. I don’t go to bed until I have that fire in me again that dances with the art of painting.”
Now, that was something that hit Peter all the way to his core. How could you even manage to do it? To answer the question he didn’t even know he had in his heart so effortlessly and precisely?
He now knew his mistake—he let the lack of inspiration slowly extinguish the fire in him whenever he was feeling uninspired. He realized now that he didn’t push hard enough. But that would change, starting now.
“I think I know what to paint now. And this size is just perfect, thank you.”
You watched him put his canvas on an easel. He looked at you, his eyes asking a question about what to do next.
“You can draw first, sketch what would be the outline of your painting, and then let it guide you when you start painting. Or you could proceed to paint immediately. But if you ask me, I would recommend sketching first so you won’t make a lot of mistakes later when you actually start painting.”
“Okay. I’ll sketch first. Thank you,” he said as you handed him a pencil. He started drawing lines, and then curves, and then came the shapes.
“That’s really good. Damn, didn’t know you were good at drawing,” you complimented. He laughed lightly. “Thanks, I think I got the genes from my mother. My aunt always told me she was a really good artist.”
Once he was close to finishing his drawing, it dawned on you that he was drawing a sunrise. You wouldn’t tell him, but it reminded you of one of your paintings. It wasn’t a sunrise, but it was similar. Maybe you’d show it to him when he finishes his painting.
“I’m done!” he announced proudly. “Nice!” you replied. “Are you ready to paint?”
“Oh no no no… please, I think that’s enough for me today,” he laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, but that little drawing took a lot of work. I’d like to go back to my camera now.”
DAY 3.
Same time, same place, different day.
“Good mo–”
“Morning!” you cut him off as you opened the door. He laughed seeing your proud face. “Come in.”
“Coffee?”
“Actually–yeah. I’d like a coffee,” he answered, yawning.
“Had trouble sleeping?” you asked.
He nodded. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
He felt how the silence almost swallowed the room and how your eyes never left his. Only then did he realize what he said.
“I–uh-I m-mean ab-about the things… y-yeah about the things you said yesterday w-when you talked about painting an-and your passion and your–uh… like making sure the fire that dances within you stays lit,” he was rambling.
You let out a giggle. Deep inside, you were struggling not to blush. “I understand. You know, if you want me to stop saying deep things about life and other stuff, just tell me.”
He was quick to raise his hand, as if stopping you from doing something idiotic. “Oh no. Please, don’t stop. Don’t ever stop saying things that are so deep that it makes other people unable to sleep just thinking about them.”
“You make it sound like you don’t like it,” you chuckled as you turned your back on him to prepare his morning drink.
He shook his head. “Oh, I like it. I like it when you say things like that. It makes me double-think my life or just life in general. For the better.”
“Thanks. I don’t really have a lot of people to talk to so I can understand if you think I’m being too much.”
“You’re not being too much, I assure you that. You’re just wise… and I love that about you.”
You almost dropped the mug by turning almost instantly to face him. No one has appreciated you like that before, and it certainly felt good. You couldn’t stop—and didn’t want to stop—the smile that formed on your lips.
Click.
You were out of words if you were being honest so you instead chose to ask why he took a picture of you just then. “What was that for? The picture? I wasn’t even painting.”
“It’s for memories… beautiful ones,” he winked and you swore you felt something in your stomach that you never felt before. Oh, this can’t be happening.
“Um–anyway, here’s your coffee,” you said as you handed him the drink. You quickly changed the topic. “I was thinking maybe we should continue doing our paintings? You continue yours and I continue mine. If you need my help or you have any questions, just tell me.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
This was harder than Peter expected it to be. There were so many colors to choose from. How could he know what were the right colors to use? This was his first painting and he was being mentored by an incredible painter. He wanted this to be good. He wanted to impress you.
“You could always start with orange or yellow,” you said as you noticed him struggling.
“I feel like I need a reference just to know where the orange starts to blend with yellow.”
“Okay,” you agreed with him. “The internet has a lot of pictures of the sunrise.”
“I know, but I kinda want my own?” he shrugged. “Those pictures are the sunrise from other people’s eyes that they took from their cameras. I want to know the color of the sunrise from my perspective, you know? It’s just that I just realized I’m doing a sunrise painting and I haven’t even seen the sun actually rise… I want to see it for myself and then take my own pictures of it while it happens. Maybe then I could connect more with my painting.”
You stopped painting as you stared at him, feeling extremely proud that you couldn’t help but grin. “You want to connect more with your painting?” you repeated.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s do it. Tomorrow, let’s meet up at the park early in the morning just before the sun rises. I’ll take you to my secret spot.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m excited,” he smiled and you reciprocated it. He then picked up his camera again to take pictures of you.
By now, the background of your painting was finished. A white picket fence, on the back of it was a brick-walled house. A figure was in front, but it was yet to be painted on. The outline of the man was the only blank surface left on your canvas.
Click.
You were glad Peter still hadn't asked any questions about your painting.
DAY 4.
Different time, different place, different day.
You immediately saw Peter the moment you were close to the park. It wasn’t hard to spot him since it was early and not a lot of people roamed the place just yet—only the ones who jog there every day.
You didn’t notice him click his camera when you rushed towards him.
“Good morning!” Of course, he couldn’t forget about his daily greeting. In response, you greeted him back.
“And before you offer me coffee, I’d like to take you to my favorite coffee shop later. My treat. That is, of course, if you only want to.”
“I’d love to,” you smiled. “Let’s go.”
You held his hand and Peter swore he felt some kind of electric shock. A shock that was so addicting he was willing to get electrocuted if it meant getting to hold you much longer.
“We’re here,” you announced and Peter was suddenly brought back to earth. The ‘secret spot’ you mentioned was a little hill that was just a mile hike away from the park. The pathway entrance was covered with trees so it was concealed from most people. The view from up there was insanely breathtaking. He could clearly see the city bay and he was sure the sun would rise from where the city bay ended. You still held his hand and he assumed you just forgot you were holding it in the first place. There was no way you would hold his hand for this long.
You absolutely did not forget. But you didn’t do it on purpose either. See, the thing in your stomach that you felt yesterday always visited you whenever he was in your presence. For some reason, there was a need for your body to touch his, and as much as you tried to control it, there was no containing it. That was what happened. Your hand acted on its own and it didn’t want to let his hand go. It was kind of embarrassing and you just wished he didn’t mind it.
Oh, he didn’t mind it, that’s for sure. In fact, he was enjoying it. Although it was taking everything in him not to wrap his arm around your shoulders and keep you close.
“Look,” you pointed at the sun that was starting to peek from where the bay ended in your perspective. And there it was, the sun slowly and magnificently rising above the waters. As much as Peter didn’t want to let go of your hand, he needed both of his hands to capture the moment. You glanced at him as you wanted to watch his reaction to his first time witnessing the sunrise. And while his face was covered by his camera as he took a picture of the scene, you saw his lips form a peaceful smile. You found yourself looking back at the sun with the same peaceful smile on your lips.
You knew he was done taking pictures when the once-darkened place was brightened up by the star that was the sun. It was evident since he lowered the camera from his face and adjusted the strap to let it hang by his neck comfortably. What you didn’t know, though, was that before he put his camera down, he sneakily took a photo of your face joined by the hues of the sun.
“This is our secret spot now,” said Peter.
“Yup,” you laughed. “So, coffee?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, offering his hand for you to take.
Peter brought you to a little cafe not far from the park, it was located near a library which you reminded yourself you would visit some other time in the future.
You were taking your last sip of coffee when you heard the familiar click of his camera. This time you actually posed a peace sign for the picture. Peter chuckled at this, and in return, it made you laugh as well. He seized the opportunity to take another picture.
Click.
“It's nice here… the staff, the view, the ambiance, the food, and of course, the coffee,” you commented.
“So, now you get why this is my favorite coffee shop?”
“Correction. This is our favorite coffee shop now.”
DAY 5.
The next day, you met up back at your studio apartment. After your usual morning greetings and coffees, both of you were busy doing your own paintings. You looked over at Peter, seeing him so focused on his painting. You suddenly had an idea.
After one last stroke to complete the body of the faceless person you were painting, you stopped. You stood up and went to the table where Peter put his camera on. He didn’t notice you, he was too busy to even notice you standing. You carefully and quietly put the strap over your head and adjusted it to your comfort. You walked little steps towards him, positioning yourself just behind him where you could see his back as he worked on his painting on one of your easels. You adjusted your eye to the viewfinder and just when you found the perfect view, you clicked its shutter.
Click.
The familiar click of his camera forced his eyes to look away from his painting. He looked quizzically at you. When he realized what you were doing, he smiled widely as he carefully put his paintbrush in a brush holder.
“What are you doing?” he laughed. God, you loved his face when he laughed. You couldn’t resist clicking the shutter for the second time.
“Nothing,” you chuckled. “Just continue what you’re doing. You’ll be the painter and I’ll be the photographer for today.”
Moments later, you probably had circled around Peter just to make sure you could capture every angle of him painting. He was smiling for most of them.
“Am I even doing this right?” he asked, gesturing for you to look at his painting.
You stood beside the stool he was sitting on. “You’re doing great. But I think you should blend this area a little bit more,” you said, moving closer as you pointed out the area you were talking about. “And you might want to go softer on your brush.”
“Have I told you how attractive you are when you teach me these things?” he said suddenly.
That caught you off guard, and you weren’t sure what to do so you just looked at him with an awkward smile. Peter didn’t know where his confidence came from, but all of a sudden, he dipped his pointer finger into the orange paint on his palette and smeared it on your cheek. Your mouth widened with shock but you immediately did the same thing to him. And so, you two had a full-on fight which ended up with both your clothes and faces covered with colorful paints.
“Oh, I have to take pictures of this,” he stated before running to the sink and washing his hands so he could hold his camera and not worry about smearing paint on it.
He got back quickly, asking you to do silly poses as he took your pictures. You did the same to him, instructing him to do ridiculously funny poses when you took his pictures. After a while, he set the camera down on a table facing the two of you and set it on a timer so he could take photos of both of you together. You two were having so much fun that none of you even cared or noticed that some of the poses you did were both of you being too close to each other’s bodies.
That was how the day went for the two of you. Covered with paint and indelible memories with each other.
And maybe even growing feelings towards one another.
DAY 6.
Same time, same place, different day.
“Your painting fully dried overnight,” you said excitedly as you opened the door for him. “Would you like to see it?”
“Well–good morning to you too,” he giggled. “Actually, can I go to the bathroom first? I really need to pee.”
“Oh-yes, of course,” you smiled, letting him inside. “It’s up there in the loft beside the bed. It’s the only bathroom so it’s not hard to find.”
As Peter went to pee, you decided to find a painting of yours similar to his sunrise. You were thrilled to show it to him.
You held your painting behind your back as Peter exited the bathroom and went to see his finished painting. “You can touch it,” you reminded him when you saw how his fingers hesitated to touch the canvas in fear of ruining what he’d done. He finally touched it, picking it up with his hand and stroking the piece of art with the other as he admired it. He did this. With his hands.
“It’s beautiful,” you commented. “You seem to be a natural. It doesn’t look like it was your first time. I’m proud of you.”
“Well, I had the best mentor, so…” he smirked. “But in all honesty, thank you so much. For introducing me to painting, for teaching me how to paint, for your wise words—everything. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you said before remembering the piece of art behind your back. “I have something I want to show you. But I’m getting tired just standing, so let’s sit on the couch.”
Once you both settled on the couch, you showed him your painting of the sunset. You put it side by side with his sunrise and it created a perfect contrast together. The same sun, taken from the same secret spot on top of that little hill, but at different times of the day.
“Unbelievable. They’re almost the same,” he whispered, wonder-struck. “May I ask why you painted a sunset?”
“I painted this during one of the hardest days in my life. Why a sunset? A sunset because it reminds me that even though the day is hard, there is an end to the day. A sunset… because it represents the opportunity to rest. It reminds me that if the sun can rest after a tiring day, then there is nothing wrong with closing your eyes for even just a moment.”
He looked at you with deep understanding. “Why did you paint a sunrise?” you asked.
“I’ve always known that a sunrise meant the start of another day. But only when I started to paint it and connect with it did I realize that there is more to that. Why a sunrise? A sunrise because it reminds me that another day isn’t only another ‘day’. It’s also another chance to live and take risks. A sunrise… because it represents the opportunity to start again. It reminds me that if the sun could come back up after a long dark night, then I can too.”
Your eyes glistened with tears as he said those words but you didn’t let him see it. Art really was a voice that spoke beyond thoughts and words. Those paintings weren’t just paintings, they were experiences. Your sunset was a symbol of rest—what you have always wanted to have after all those years. His sunrise was a symbol of hope—what he was searching for for the longest time.
You ended up framing the paintings and hanging them on your wall beside each other. Together, they created the most beautiful contrasting artwork. The two paintings became one—it was like they were always meant to be beside each other.
Click.
“You know, I went through the photos you took while I was painting. They’re really good. The angles? they’re perfect. If you ever want to change careers, just tell me,” he joked.
“I think I’ll stick to painting,” you chuckled. “But thank you, I mean, I had a great mentor so that’s probably why the photos turned out good.”
“You mean me? I didn’t even teach you as far as I can remember.”
“Well, not literally. But when you take pictures, I observe you and the ways you hold the camera. So, I definitely got my ‘skill’ from you,” you admitted.
“You observe me?”
You noticed his lips slowly form a smirk and only then did you realize what you just revealed. “Uhh-let’s not m-make it a big d-deal,” you nervously laughed, feeling the anxiety creep up on you. You never knew how to deal with social situations like this. When things went awkward or you didn’t know what to say, you ran. Hence why you never had a long-time friend. Peter was the only one you lasted this long with.
“I was just teasing you,” he smiled, stroking your arms with his hands to calm you down. You didn’t know how he knew you were slightly panicking on the inside. But somehow, he did. And then he smiled at you with the softest and most caring smile you’d ever seen and suddenly the anxiety and the panic shifted into a feeling of comfort.
You had never felt like this before.
Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, and almost in an instant, the once bright day outside your windows turned into a dark night.
Time really did fly when you were with someone you loved.
Loved.
None of you would admit it yet, but it was definitely there.
“It’s time for me to go…” he announced.
Before he could fully stand up and start to make his way to the door, you held his wrist to stop him. He looked at you with confusion, but the glint in his eyes said a lot more—he hoped you would ask him to stay.
And that you did.
“You can stay here tonight…” you whispered. “Only if you want to, of course.”
“Do you want me to stay?” he softly asked, glancing at your hand that held his wrist before looking at you again.
“Yes.”
DAY 7.
Different time, same place, different day.
Peter woke up earlier than usual and yet he felt that the sleep he had taken was the most satisfying he ever had. Why? Well, it was because he slept next to you.
Let’s take a few steps back…
Yesterday night when Peter was about to leave, you insisted on letting him stay. He offered to take the couch but you felt guilty that you were about to sleep on a soft mattress while he would sleep on an old couch downstairs so you told him that it was fine if he slept next to you on your bed. He was hesitant because he respected your boundaries but eventually you were able to come to an agreement to put a pillow in between both of you to not make things awkward. None of you knew how it happened, but when you woke up, the pillow was moved to the floor and your hand and his were almost touching. It seemed like your bodies naturally gravitated towards each other—but of course, none of you would admit that. At least not yet.
He quietly made his way down to where you were painting, careful not to disturb you. He grabbed the camera along the way. He would never get tired of capturing photos of you while painting—you were a master of arts in one of their truest forms. You were sitting on a stool with an easel in front.
He pulled the camera close to his face, aligning his good eye with the viewfinder. He adjusted the lens, zooming it in your hand that held a really old—it seemed to be your favorite—paintbrush. But before he could click the shutter, he noticed how your hands were shaking as you stared at the painting. He immediately put down his camera and stared at it as well and only then did he realize that you haven’t made any progress on your painting today. The painting was almost complete, the only thing missing was the face of the man in the middle. Up until now, he was still faceless.
“You know, this is the longest it’s taken me to paint a person,” you said, feeling his presence behind you. “It’s just a face. Why is it so hard?” you sighed with shaking lips. You were battling the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes.
For the first time ever, he didn’t know how to reply.
“No–don’t answer that,” you let out a breathy laugh, but there was pain underneath. “That was a rhetorical question. Of course, I know why it’s so hard.”
With shaking hands that you tried so hard to steady, you started coloring the face with a skin tone color that matched the rest of the man’s body.
One stroke.
He didn’t know what to say, but hopefully, he knew what to do. Peter moved beside you, intertwining his right hand with your left as you painted with your right.
Two strokes.
You felt him squeeze your hand, doing his best to comfort you.
Three strokes.
Painting the structure of the face was done. Now onto the details of the face.
You closed your eyes, trying to dig up the memories you had with this man. But it was hard since the man you were painting only stayed for a little while in your life.
You opened your eyes, picking out a thin paintbrush that was perfect for little details. You started with the lips.
One stroke.
Peter’s presence was giving you not only comfort but courage as well.
Two strokes.
And then another.
The pinkish-red lips stared at you from the painting. You let out a breath. Next was the nose.
You picked up your pencil to draw some lines for a little bit. You only did some to serve as your guide. Next, you cleaned the thin paintbrush before dipping it in another color—black.
One stroke.
You followed the lines you drew. But they were just lines, you have to paint the details to actually make the nose specific from the rest.
Two strokes.
And then you did some shadows with the outlines to blend them with the skin. It was done.
“I think I’ll continue later,” you sighed sadly, squeezing his hand. “I need to take a breather. S-sorry this is hard for me.”
“It’s okay,” he smiled, squeezing your hand back. “Do you want me to join you?” he softly asked.
“No-I want to be alone for a moment,” you smiled to show him you appreciated his concern.
He watched you leave and was alone for a moment. He glared at the painting, wondering what this person could have done to hurt you this much. How could someone even hurt the most precious person to ever walk on earth?
He heard the door open loudly, making him turn immediately. You were at the other side of the door, looking up at him with your eyes red evidently from crying. He walked past everything—the table and the clutter on the floor—hastily just so he could hug you.
He carefully closed the door as you leaned into him. Your body was weak due to repressed emotions now releasing all at once. He noticed your knees slowly giving up and he guided both of you to sit on the floor.
The camera, the photos, the paintbrush, the painting—all were forgotten the moment he wrapped his arms around you. He cradled your face with his hands, brushing your cheek and wiping your tears.
“I’m a mess,” you said, sniffing.
“You’re beautiful,” he responded, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Do you want to talk about it?” he cooed.
“Will it help?”
“I think so. But it’s still up to you,” he replied honestly.
You nodded. “I know you have questions, ask them.”
“Who’s the man in the painting?”
“My father. Or at least what I remember of him.”
His back was resting on the wall as you leaned into his side, his arm was still wrapped around you.
“And the house in the background, is that your family’s house?”
“It’s the orphanage. I spent my whole childhood there. That’s where I grew up.”
“Did he visit you there?”
“No,” you laughed painfully. “Remember what I told you before? That the best thing about painting is that I can paint whatever I want to see or happen? That painting is one of them.”
He was listening intently. He didn’t want to say anything because he knew that you didn’t want any advice at the moment, you just wanted a listener.
“I never met my mother. The caregivers at the orphanage told me she died when she birthed me. When I asked them how I got there they told me about my father. He took care of me for 4 months, and then I think his heart broke whenever he saw my face because I looked a lot like my mother. It came to a point where he couldn’t look at me or care for me anymore so he put me in that orphanage. I guess the heartbreak was bigger than the joy that I brought.
“I always imagined him visiting me, getting me out of that place, and bringing me home. But that didn’t happen. So I coped with drawing and painting. Until now, I still wonder what could’ve happened if he came back for me… hence why I’m doing the painting.”
“Do you have any pictures of him?” he asked.
“I only had one. It was a picture of my parents at their wedding. I used to stare at it every day until I lost it and I would never forgive myself for being so careless back then. The last time I held that picture and stared at it was when I was 7. It’s been too long and I can’t seem to remember his face that much.”
“Is that why it’s so hard for you to paint his face?”
“Yes. But also because of the realization that my wishes only come true in my paintings. I wanted him to come back for me or at least visit me. I didn’t get that visit, so I’m getting it in the painting.”
“Have you tried looking for him?”
You nodded. “Of course. But you can’t find who doesn’t want to be found.”
“Did you at least have any people who cared for you like a parent?” he asked, sympathy evident in his expression.
“I had this one particular caregiver who made me experience what it was like to have a mother. She was the one who gave me my first paintbrush and painting set. She was the one who made me discover that I had a talent for drawing and painting.
“But she didn’t stay for long because she had to leave the orphanage permanently to take care of her own family. She told me something happened and she had to take care of a little boy.”
Peter’s face furrowed from the familiarity of that exact situation, but he let it slide eventually. This was your story, this wasn’t about him.
“I have some questions for you too,” you chuckled. Tears were no longer falling on your face. Peter was right again. Indeed, talking about your past helped.
“Shit. Do I have to get nervous?” he joked.
“It depends on what your answers are gonna be,” you joked back. “How did you get your camera? Did you buy it or is it from someone you look up to?”
“The answer is the latter. I had a teacher once in high school, he wasn’t a professional photographer but we shared the same interests. I remember the first time he stepped into the room to teach English but instead of focusing on him the first thing I noticed was his DSLR camera. It was kept and hidden in a bag but I know a camera bag when I see one. I think, over time, he noticed I was always glancing at his camera that one day he called me to stay after his class and gave it to me. He told me that I needed it more.”
“Were you two close?” you asked.
“We were, yeah.”
“Where is he now?”
“He died a year ago. He’s gone now but I still treasure every lesson he’s taught me.”
“And your parents?”
“They died when I was 4 from a plane crash. Since then, I stayed with my aunt before she was gone too.”
“I’m sorry, Pete. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s fine. I feel comfortable around you—the heavy things don’t feel as heavy anymore.”
Silence surrounded the apartment, calming the two of you as you held each other. No one needed to speak at the moment, just you in his arms were enough.
Day almost turned into night and you finally stood up.
“You don’t have to finish it today,” he said as he noticed you staring at the painting anxiously.
“I know. But I want to.”
“Okay,” he smiled. “Then I’ll be there with you.”
He walked towards you and intertwined his hand with yours.
“Thank you.”
Together, you walked until you were in front of the easel again. He picked up the paintbrush and held it in front of you. He gave you an encouraging look and you smiled as you took the brush with courage.
“Here we go.”
You did the eyebrows first, it didn’t take you as long as you did when you did the nose and lips.
The eyes.
The hardest part because the eyes were what looked into the soul.
One stroke.
Two strokes.
Three strokes.
You weren’t shaking anymore.
Four strokes.
Five strokes.
“You can do it,” Peter encouraged.
Six strokes.
Seven Strokes.
“You’re doing great,” his hand held yours tighter.
The last stroke.
You did it. You painted your father. You remembered his face. And above all, you painted him in front of the orphanage, coming back to get you.
You smiled.
Peter stiffened beside you. His eyes widened as he looked at your father in the painting.
“Peter?” you called his name.
He stayed unmoving.
“Pete? Are you okay?”
“That’s him…” he pointed at your father.
You were confused. “Who?”
“My teacher in high school. The one I told you about. The one who gave me my camera,” he collected his camera from the table. “The one who gave me this.”
You were speechless and shocked to the core. “Are you sure?”
“It makes sense now,” he continued. “He once told me in our conversations that the greatest mistake he’d ever made was leaving something he loved because he was so scared he would never be deserving of it.”
You didn’t know what to feel.
“But now I realize, he wasn’t talking about a ‘thing’, he was talking about someone. You.”
“Did he try to come back for me?” you asked, curious but you weren’t hopeful.
“I-I don’t know… I’m sorry.”
“I-It’s okay,” you sniffed, wiping your cheeks. Funny, you weren’t even sure when the tears started to cascade down on them.
“You mentioned your teacher died last year, right? That means he’s…”
“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he softly spoke, even his eyes couldn’t help but tear up slightly.
“It’s not your fault. Besides, he wasn’t even there for me for most of my life. It’s fine,” you reasoned, telling him it was all good but another tear still slipped from your eye.
He hugged your side and stayed like that for a good while as he tried to think of another subject to talk about to keep you from hurting any longer. His eyes caught the brush holder and focused on an old paintbrush that you use almost every time. It seemed to be your favorite. The marks on the wooden handle told him the age of the brush; the bristles that were still intact and usable told him just how much you take care of your art supplies.
“That paintbrush… you use it every time, is that your favorite?” he already knew the answer but he still asked just to distract you.
You didn’t need to follow where his eyes were looking or ask him anything, you already knew the brush he was talking about. “Yes, it is my favorite. Remember when I told you I had this caregiver in the orphanage that gave me my first painting set and paintbrush?” you said before picking up the brush. “This is the paintbrush.”
“You must’ve taken good care of it all these years,” he commented.
“I did. It’s special and it holds a lot of good memories.”
“What’s your favorite memory?” he asked, interested.
“Me as a little kid doing my first painting with my caregiver. She was encouraging me every step of the way.”
“What’s her name?”
“May.”
His eyes widened with realization. He remembered asking his aunt what her job was before she took him in after the incident that killed his parents. She had told him she was a caregiver at an orphanage. But the city is wide and big, it never occurred to him that that orphanage was the same one you were from.
“May Parker,” he breathed out.
You looked at him. “Yes! That’s her–I forgot her last name but that’s her. Do you know her?”
“She’s my aunt.”
Now everything made sense and all the why’s were answered. No wonder why you felt a sense of familiarity the first time he put his camera down and you saw his face. No wonder why your heart jumped when you learned his name. May Parker… Peter Parker… holy shit. How come you didn’t notice that before?
“You’re the little boy she always talked about. Her little nephew who loved taking pictures so much,” you said, eyes once again starting to tear up.
“And you’re the little painter girl she always mentioned,” he smiled. “She promised me she would introduce me to you but life got busy and that never happened.”
“But look at us now. I guess fate still found its way to introduce us to each other,” you stated softly.
Peter once again cradled your face with his hands, slowly stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. “Can I tell you something?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“That day I met you at the park, I was at my ending point with photography. That day, I was determined to find the last project worthy of my dying passion. Then I met you. And in just a matter of days, I knew you, and it changed my life,” he started.
“You taught me lessons about art and life. You gave me something I’ve been trying to get back for a long time—hope.
“Above all, you made me remember why I even started taking pictures. You made me realize my purpose. I know now that I never lost the flame, the candle just stopped burning. But you… you rekindled it and suddenly it was back again… and it’s stronger and hotter than ever.
“Now, I can admit, to anyone and myself, I love photography. This is my passion. It’s not just the flame… but the fire within me that sways with the wind.”
He felt your hands gently wrap around his wrists as he continued caressing your face. “Oh, Peter…” you whispered.
“T-there is something beyond words that I feel for you. I-I don't know how to properly say it but I’m still gonna try,” he whispered back. “You’re not just the muse of my favorite pictures, you are my camera. Without you, I’m unable to reach my full potential. You’re the perfect angle I’ve always wanted to find. And now that I’ve found you… everything makes sense. The blank spaces in my heart and in my life aren’t blank anymore because your name is now written all over them.”
You moved closer so your forehead could touch his. “And you, Peter… are the colors that I paint on my canvases. The sunrise to my sunset. Ever since you came, the meaningless life I had before became meaningful.”
Silence surrounded you for a moment. Your foreheads were still touching while both your eyes were closed. Tears stained both your cheeks as the two of you couldn’t stop crying out of adoration and love for each other.
“All the ones who guided us are gone now,” you breathed out.
He placed a long kiss on your forehead before speaking.
“From now on, it’s only you and I.”
After uncovering the past and embracing the present, you were looking forward to the future.
It truly was amazing how art could connect people together.
The hopeless photographer was once again hopeful;
The restless painter wasn’t exhausted anymore.
And soon the two of you would realize that the love you shared was a testament of…
Interlacing fates,
Intertwining lines,
and
Connecting arts.
SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx
TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST: @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan @willowhaired @sflame15-blog
me, as the author, connecting with the story through writing is further proof of how art connects us all together. i can only hope that i wrote this well so that you can connect with it too through reading. thank you all for being patient, this is for all of you.
#tasm!peter x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker#tasm peter parker x reader#tasm peter x you#peter parker imagine#peter parker fan fiction#peter parker fanfic#peter parker angst#peter parker fluff#tasm peter parker angst#tasm peter parker fluff#spiderman angst#spiderman fluff#spiderman imagine#spiderman x reader#peter parker x y/n#spiderman x y/n#andrew garfield x reader#spiderman#peter parker#marvel#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#andrew garfield fan fiction#the amazing spiderman#tasm!peter parker x reader#andrew garfield#marvel imagine#connecting arts: the fic
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He comforts you
Notes: Modern AU , Gender neutral reader, 2nd person POV
a/n: Not really sure how I feel about comfort fics but writing comforting/affirmative(?) words makes me feel better. Hope that this helps anyone out there!
“Hey.” A pause. “ Are you free?” He could hear what you didn’t say. He immediately responded. “Yeah, the playground?” He was already getting himself dressed and picking up his keys. “Yeah.” You hang up. When he arrived at the neighbourhood playground, he saw you on the swings, staring at the ground. You had that expression on your face you always have when you are thinking about what happened and trying to figure out what was wrong. He takes the swing next to you and looks at you carefully, trying not to scare or overwhelm you. “Hey. Want to talk about it?”
You swung your feet a little, moving back and forth. “I don’t know.” He waited. He knew that you would speak, you just needed a moment to get yourself ready. “I don’t know. I- I just- I don’t know.” Your head was swamped with thoughts, unable to focus on swinging, you stopped. “I just- I don’t know. I- I’m so sorry, I can’t explain myself and there’s just like stuff I- I don’t know, I have so much but like if I can’t I-” You struggled to form a coherent sentence; your thoughts were starting to overwhelm you. There was too much happening too fast.
Muichirou nodded his head. “Take your time. You can start small. Do you want me to guide you a little?” You nodded your head, desperate to get your thoughts straight. “How did it start?” Silently, you recounted what happened in your head and struggled to get the words out. You didn’t know how to explain yourself. He looked at you calmly. “I won’t judge, take it slow. You can always add on later. I will listen.” Right, yes, you don’t have to get everything out at once. You take a deep breath. “I was supposed to be doing homework but I wasn’t. I was texting my friends. My mother started telling me how she needs me to tell her when I want to use my laptop and phone for leisure activities. She said I only had a total of two hours a day.” Your words got stuck in your throat.
Humming softly to acknowledge your words, Muichirou asked, “I see, how did that make you feel? Just your feelings, you don’t have to provide an explanation if you can’t at the moment.” Collecting yourself, you answered, “Annoyed. Very annoyed and frustrated.” You pause before continuing, “I- I don’t remember why. Everything feels so jumbled up together and like all mushed up. I can’t remember anything.” Your anxiety started to return and you were starting to detach from reality, struggling to stay afloat in your ocean of thoughts. He reached over and tentatively placed his hand on yours. “Come back, you don’t have to be alone with your thoughts. Take it slow. Let’s try another question. Which part of getting your laptop and phone restricted annoy you the most?”
Getting pulled back into the real world and for a short moment, out of your thoughts, you blinked slowly, trying to calm down. “I think it’s because I’m getting too reliant on them. Especially my laptop. I need to listen to music to do most things. I need a nice distraction but not too much and I need to be able to control it. I think. It’s so hard to complete my work and tasks on time. I can’t focus. It’s just so hard. I need to like, switch between work and rest. I feel so mad at myself but I can’t help it and it’s just so tiring.” You had so much more to say but you couldn’t get it out.
Muichirou stared at you calmly. “I get what you mean. It is tough to concentrate on stuff for long periods of time. You haven’t been feeling well for a long time, correct?” You nodded your head, feeling the need to elaborate on that too but couldn’t. “Don’t worry, you can tell me how you feel later. I understand that you find it very hard to focus on things and that’s alright, it’s not easy constantly feeling like you have to fix and prove yourself and get things done on time. It’s also okay to not know what caused you to be anxious.” And then, it was like something within you snapped.
Tears started sliding down your cheek. Noticing your tears, Muichirou got up and hugged you. You start sobbing harder. “It’s just that I feel so angry! And I’m just mad at myself for being mad! It’s honestly my fault but I can’t help it and I feel so awful and!” Your words spilled out and stumbled against each other; you sounded incoherent yet he understood what you wanted to convey. Gently pressing his palm against your back, he slid it down and up to sooth you. “I’m here. I’m not going to leave.”
“I may not be able to take away your pain but I hope I will be able to help you overcome it. It’s not easy carrying all that pain yourself, you have been very brave. I’m proud of you.”
a/n: didnt manage to work on my requests these few days due to school stress but its been worked on a little!! :0
might make this a series/collection where the situations are a little more details perhaps?
#kny#demonslayer#kny fanfic#kny x reader#muichiro x reader#muichiro x y/n#demon slayer#kny muichiro#fluff#drabble#comfort#sweet#cute#comforting
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stocking stuffers day 9: morning + praise
Fluff prompt: morning || Smut prompt: praise
Pairing: Dakota x Shayna
Word count: 1.5k
(this fic is quite spicy. 18+ or older please! includes kink negotiation and healthy communication within a relationship because we love a healthy relationship).
Shayna always thinks Dakota looks beautiful. But secretly, she’s always loved how Dakota looks in morning. The way her eyes flutter open, how she brushes her hair out of her face. The shy smile she always gives Shayna as she looks up through her long eyelashes.
But this morning is different. Shayna knows Dakota is awake. She heard the change in her girlfriend’s breathing, and watched her eyes open briefly before quickly squeezing shut. Dakota is hiding from her, and Shayna knows why.
It had happened the night before, and it was so quick that Shayna almost missed it. They had been showering together. Shayna hadn't given the words a second thought as she said them. But lying here in bed now, she can't stop thinking about the words "good girl," leaving her lips. About the low moan that followed from Dakota, and the red flush that filled the smaller girl's cheeks immediately after.
About the confession that Dakota whispered just before falling asleep.
"I may have a little bit of a praise kink."
Shayna has long suspected that this might be the case. It's hard to miss the way Dakota's eyes light up whenever Shayna tells her that she did a good job, or that she's proud of her. But she's never asked Dakota about it, never even thought to raise the subject until now.
After a few more minutes of waiting for Dakota to open her eyes again, Shayna begins to gently stroke the Kiwi girl's hair, running her fingers through the brown strands. Dakota quickly slides closer to Shayna's body, resting her head in her girlfriend's lap. Slowly, her eyes flutter open and she tilts her head up towards Shayna.
"Hi," she says, her voice soft and laced with sleep.
Shayna smiles down at her. "Hi love," she says, leaning down to give Dakota a soft kiss. "Did you sleep well?"
Dakota simply nods in response, before looking down at the blankets as a faint blush appears on her cheeks. Wrapping her arms around Dakota, Shayna lifts her girlfriend up and sets Dakota gently on her lap.
Shayna takes a deep breath before she speaks again. "So, I was hoping we could talk about last night?" she asks. Dakota lifts her eyes to look at Shayna, but she doesn't say anything in response, so Shayna continues. "But if you're not ready to talk about it, that's okay. I just want you to know that you never have to keep anything from me."
Dakota bites her bottom lip, and Shayna can practically see the thoughts spiraling in her brain. Finally, the Kiwi girl sighs. "Promise you won't judge me?" she asks.
"I promise," Shayna says, pulling Dakota in for a soft, tender kiss. "I will never, ever judge you for the things that make you happy."
A small smile begins to form on Dakota's face. "What do you want to know?" she asks, her voice still quiet, but free of the audible anxiety that filled her words before.
Shayna smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind Dakota's ear. "Whatever you're comfortable with sharing right now," she says. "I want to hear everything you want to tell me."
Dakota takes a deep breath. "Well, you already know that I like to hear your voice during sex," she begins. "And it makes me feel good to know that I'm doing a good job. It only really affects me during intimate situations, which is why I'm okay with pet names and compliments outside those times."
"Are there any names or phrases that you don't want me to use?" Shayna asks. "Or do you have any that you only like during sex?" Dakota nods, and Shayna can see the shy blush forming on her face. "Do you want to tell me?" Shayna asks, her voice gentle and soft as she gives Dakota's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Yes," Dakota says, feeling the blush spread to her ears. "Um, I don't know if I have anything that I don't like. But I would prefer it if you saved "kitten" for during sex?"
Shayna smiles. "Of course," she replies. "Anything else? Do you have a favorite phrase to hear?"
Dakota nods, still blushing but no longer filled with anxiety over the conversation. "The one you said last night," she stammers, butterflies filling her stomach.
Shayna lifts Dakota's chin as the smaller girl tries to duck her head. "Thank you for being honest with me," she says. "I know how scary these conversations can be, and I'm so proud of you."
"Really?" Dakota asks, eyes widening slightly.
Shayna nods. "In fact," she continues. "I think you deserve a reward. You've been such a good girl after all."
It's the emphasis on those two little words that gets her. Dakota nods, biting her bottom lip as the blush filling her cheeks deepens. "Please," she whispers.
Shayna smiles. "What's your safeword?" she asks.
"Full sail," Dakota says. She watches as Shayna eyes her black pajama shorts and oversized gray t-shirt, and the younger girl gives a reassuring nod. "You can take them off," she says.
Once Dakota gives permission, Shayna wastes no time in tugging the shirt over Dakota's head and sliding the shorts down over her hips. After discarding the clothing on the floor, Shayna's attention returns to the girl in her lap. She lets her gaze trail down Dakota's body, admiring her flushed cheeks, her bare breasts, her toned thighs. "Pretty girl," she whispers, running her hand along Dakota's side.
"Really?" Dakota asks, her eyes widening as she wraps her legs around Shayna's body and hooking her ankles together behind her girlfriend's back.
Shayna nods, smiling at the shy, blushing girl in front of her. "Really," she says. "You look so pretty like this, kitten."
A soft moan escapes Dakota's lips, and she feels her underwear growing damp. "Please," she manages to say, practically melting under Shayna's touch.
Shayna traces her fingertips up Dakota's spine, making the smaller girl shudder. "Your eyes are so beautiful," Shayna says, her voice sending Dakota's heart racing. "They look so innocent, but I know how wide they get when I'm making you feel good."
"Shayna," Dakota whines, her cheeks shifting from pink to red.
"Patience, love." Shayna's words set off the butterflies in Dakota's stomach again as her eyes trail down to the space between Dakota's legs. She drags a single finger down over Dakota's underwear, feeling the warmth radiating from beneath the fabric. "I can already feel how wet these are," she says.
Dakota squirms a little, but makes no attempts to leave. "You can take them off," she says, prompting Shayna to remove the last piece of fabric covering her body. Seeing the way that Shayna is admiring her body, Dakota feels the shy blush in her cheeks growing deeper. "Why don't I give you a better view?" she suggests. Rolling off Shayna's lap, Dakota lays down on her side next to her girlfriend.
Shayna can't help her gaze lingering on Dakota's pussy, no longer covered by her underwear. "Touch yourself for me," she says, her voice softer than usual, not as dominant. Dakota obeys, gently teasing her lips with her fingers as Shayna's eyes drift up to Dakota's face. "Good girl," Shayna praises, eliciting a whimper from Dakota. "You look so pretty when you touch yourself."
Another soft moan comes from Dakota's mouth, and Shayna can tell that she's still holding back. "Please, Shayna," Dakota whimpers. "Say more things, please."
Shayna smiles. "You're such a sweet angel," she says, her hands absentmindedly tracing shapes across Dakota's breasts. This time, the moan is a little louder. "It's okay princess," Shayna coaxes. "You don't have to hold anything back. Come on, let me hear those pretty moans of yours."
"Okay," Dakota stammers, blushing deeper at Shayna's words.
Shayna looks down to see that Dakota's fingers are wet. Keeping one hand on Dakota's breasts, she wraps the other one around Dakota's wrist, lifting the smaller girl's hand away from her dripping slit. Parting her lips, Shayna guides Dakota's fingers into her mouth, licking them clean. "You taste so good, kitten," Shayna coos.
This time, Dakota doesn't hold anything back when she moans, cheeks red as she feels Shayna's fingers teasing at her entrance. "Please, Shayna," she gasps. "Please touch me."
Shayna smiles. "Good girl," she praises. "You did so good asking for what you need." Suddenly, she slides two fingers into Dakota, making the smaller girl's breath hitch. "Show me how pretty you look when you cum all over my fingers."
Dakota blushes, her ankles tangling with Shayna's legs. The air fills with the sounds of the Kiwi girl moaning, and Shayna praising her for not holding back, as her fingers bring Dakota to a climax.
When she comes back down from the high of release, Dakota feels her cheeks grow warm again, butterflies filling her stomach as she curls into herself. Shayna pulls Dakota into her lap, stroking her hair. "You did such a good job for me, angel." Shayna's lips press against Dakota's ear. "I love you so much."
"I love you too," Dakota whispers, letting herself melt into cuddling with her person.
#celestials stocking stuffers#wwe#my writing#shayna x dakota#shaykota#dakota kai#king kota kai#shayna baszler#queen of spades
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Hellooo hello good morning/evening/afternoon🤪. I’m slowly coming back from the dead after uni classes started again and ugh didn’t really miss them, 3 days in and I already caught a cold🙂 anyway I snuggled under the covers and read flux with my vinyl of “DAMN” by Kendrick Lamar playing in the background so nice set up I’ll admit.
Okay so first of all MICHELE AND NAM I’M SAD BUT ALSO HOPEFUL? I believe in a comeback (and yes it is in fact because I love the fwb trope, that’s my red flag don’t judge me) and I’m also…hoping it’s one of those cases in which Michele cries now but will be out there living her best life in 2 weeks and Namjoon is doing great now but we’ll see him regret everything while bawling his eyes out stuffing his face with ice cream later on? That won’t happen BUT: let me dream✨
Onto the two dumbasses: I spent this chapter being like “okay but I see jk’s point… wait what? No way man okay Sasha’s right” lol. That’s pretty much the transcript of me reading. Coming from someone who’s absolutely terrified of commitment and the future in all its forms: I was rooting for JK at the beginning, as in I would never think what he thinks about Sasha and the future🙂 but I understand that this is pretty much normal? Like, if you’re in a relationship it can only go one way or another and the “another” way was very fucking painful foxy🤩 so there’s that. But… JK looked like he just wanted to be right? “I know for a fact she won’t come so I’m going to wait until I’m absolutely sure she won’t come and I’m going to be rightfully mad” siiiir? I get the anxiety because he cares about this meeting but c’mon😕 and I read a comment from “-Diane🍕” on your blog and I agree with everything they have said on the “I love you more than you love me” part, that is a vrt hopeless way to feel😕. My take on JK is: darling I can assure you that Dr.Kim has a free hour on Thursdays just GO. He’s not really the best at sorting out his issues💀 my man has a lot of internalized anger aaaand I’m scared😀.
Also: when they said “let’s only break up one time’. Sasha, JK, I’m so sorry to inform you there is a CERTAIN SOMEONE (you, foxy, you😠) that once said that y’all are going to break up “not as many times as people think” so probably 99 instead of 100. Good luck kids!
🌸
Welcome back but I'm sorry about your cold!
I love the analysis of Jungkook's intentions that Taehyung introduced (did you just wait until you knew she'd say no) but I also want to propose a counter-suggestion, not necessarily correct or more correct but for considering in the whole: Jungkook is just used to plans being last minute or changing because that's how he lives his life, and so to him a week's notice is decent amount of warning. Probably the truth is some combination of both 😅
"my man has a lot of internalized anger" I think this is a really interesting point to bring up about Jungkook overall. I feel like it would be really hard to have the whole world telling you "look you did it! You're a success! You're famous! You're so lucky! Aren't you grateful?" and completely ignoring the fact that all of that is really complicated and sometimes difficult. Like probably he has a lot of things internally he needs to work through, confclited feelings about his lifestyle. He even sort of notices it in himself sometimes, admitting in this chapter that sometime's he's emotional about the time he missed at home. I wonder if there are times when things were hard that he wishes his parents hadn't let him do this when he was so young, even if other times he's so grateful they did.
Anyway! Hope you feel better soon and the semester goes well for you!
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I hate crying so much.
Six years ago, one of my best friends- her name was Megan. She passed away in a car accident with her mother, due to someone else's reckless driving. A stranger, a 17yr old under the influence. The girl was driving around 11pm at night, speeding, with her brother and friend, high on Marijuana, and she ran a red light. Hitting my friend and her mom in their car, killing them both.
I've been doing fine for the last seven months, not hurting as much or not having nightmares.
Megan❤
I had known Megan since 2010-2017, we went to Middle school and High school together. We graduated in the same class in 2015. We even went to the same college after high school during 2015-2017. We were very close, never judging each other, always kind, and supportive to each other. She was the one who encouraged me to be more confident about my sexuality. I absolutely appreciated her and all the adventures and times we hang out.
Her death was a huge blow to my heart, mind, and confidence.
I had a troubled life. Nearly poor my whole childhood. I grew up with an abusive & homophobic father, and hated my life. So, I moved out, leaving my mom and two siblings and transferred to another college in 2019, living with my oldest sister. To get away from my father and the reality of my friends death.
I went to school, stated busy, worked a lot, I did things by myself, staying independent.
I also had nightmares, insomnia, difficulty forming/keeping relationships. I had trust issues. I was uncomfortable showing my emotions. or displaying intimate actions like saying "I love you". All because of my trauma during my childhood and my trauma from my friends death.
My OCD made it more difficult.
OCD is a disorder that manipulates your mind into thinking and obsessing over things. These thoughts can often be bad. Unwanted intrusive thoughts I do not like or even believe in, but my mind obsesses over them because I know how bad the thoughts are. My mind fears these thought and does things so these bad thought do not happen. They are called Compulsions, acts that ease my intrusive thoughts. The compulsions are not healthy or right to do, neither are the obsessions. Both plague my mind and make my life and anxiety more difficult. I have been trying to not think about intrusive thoughts or act on my compulsions in order to ease my mind, but it is so damn hard to tell your mind not to do something.
Moving on.
I graduated college.
And as of the last eight or night months I have been fine.
My depression and OCD still restrain me, but my process and trying of my mind has been working slowly. I do things for my happiness, and I rid my life of toxic things.
It had been hard, but I eventually accepted my reality and how to get better.
Years later my father is a better man. My youngest sister even has a baby now. I live with my older sister and her boyfriend. I hangout with my younger sister and her boyfriend, it helps me and reasures me. But I am still the same. Kind to others, but worrisome, and fragile. I wonder if I can truly change.
Then like I said three days ago...
> I just had to trigger myself.
I usually try not to interact with anything that might trigger me. Because my OCD and depression will eat me alive.
So three days ago I decided to watch a show. The show involved a characters close friend dying.
It triggered thee hell out of me. I realized I hadn't thought about my friend Megan in a while and I felt bad.
I looked at her social media's which are still up, I looked at the photos of us in the past, and reminisced on the fun times.
I realized how much I missed her. How a friend like her would truly understand me right now, as she had gone through the same type of difficult childhood.
Then I felt guilt again for not being closer to her before she passed away.
This is where the OCD comes into play, I was obsessing and doing compulsions to ease my mind about forgetting about my friend, for feeling gulty, and for feeling heartache. My OCD was acting up because of how I felt in that moment of sorrow. Even though I knew I should not be doing any of that, but I couldn't control my disorder. The fear and need to know got the best of me.
The findings did not work out for me.
I still proceeded to think about my friend and what happened to her and her mom.
Thinking about how it caused me much heartbreak.
Thinking about how it changed me.
Thinking about how my life is now.
How it has been 6 years since she passed away, and it all still affects me.
I wondered if her family ever had a funeral. Because back in 2017, when the car accident happened, the family did not have money for two funeral burials. I also never talked to anyone about her passing away, not my parents or friends. Nor did I have contact with any of her remaining family.
It was the same in 2019, when I moved away and to a bigger city. Nothing about her death ever came to resolution in reality, an in my mind or heart.
So three days ago, while I was watching that show...
I looked up the 17yr old girl and her case file, (the girl who accidentally caused my friend and her mother their death).
The girl had been in Juvie and Prison for some time after the accident. She was then trialed as an adult for driving under the influence and the vehicle manslaughter of two people, (my friend and her mother).
I did more research to discover what happened.
I had wanted to know for some time, but I couldn't do it, I couldn't face it.
Now, in 2023, years later, I had the courage to do so. Even if it wasn't what was best for me..
-
I found out...
In 2020, the girl had been trialed as an adult in court.
She was found Not-Guilty for the vehicle manslaughter of my friend and her mother.
But she was guilty for driving while intoxicated by marijuana.
-
So the girl may have been out of prison for the last 2yrs perhaps, I don't know.
The girl assumingly had to have parole, with AAA classes.
Or possibly she's still doing time. But there is no more record of her cass, nor has it been updated since 2020. So I believe the unfortunate news is true, she was released from prison..
-
The news has done its damage on me.
I am a mess, again but worse than before.
I am forcing myself not to think about it, it will take some time.
There's nothing I can do, but to accept it all, think about it, and cry.
...
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Tactics of narcissistic abuse
Love Bombing & Mirroring are tactics to gain your favour. These will come from a narcissist you’re just getting to know and they’re trying to convince you they’re your perfect partner, soulmate, best friend, ideal lover. Love bombing is showering you with over-the-top affection and support, they’re likely to see what works best on you, then give you just that. They’ll convince you that you’re special and make you feel special, whether it’s with attention, gifts, promises, love phrases, or making you look and feel very good in front of other people. If they can spin this as fate or destiny, they will. You have one lucky coincidence? It’s destiny that you met. They’ll create the image of ‘it’s us against the world’ and convince you that they’re all you need to never be alone, unappreciated or unhappy again. They will say phrases like 'We were born to be together’ or 'You’re the only one who understands’ and make you feel like you’re in a romance film. Mirroring is the way to convince you that they are just like you, your perfect match. They do this by pretending they want the same things as you. All of your opinions will be shared, your desires will be their desires too, however you want to live, that’s now their ideal life too. If you want children, so do they, if you want to live in a cottage, so do they.
These will be repeated until you feel like you finally got something perfect from life, you commit to them and trust them completely. You will become lenient with your boundaries and disregard minor red flags, because hey, you finally found love, or someone like yourself who makes your life better. These are crucial to keep you around for a long time; the illusion of happiness and perfect companionship you always wanted will keep you holding onto them in hope that things could once again, be this perfect for you. You will not want to let go of them even after the love bombing and mirroring is long gone. Love bombing and mirroring are not indicative of how they’re planning to treat you once you’re committed to them; as soon as they feel you are ready to fight for a life with them, roles will change and you will have to endure escalating abuse from this person, endlessly.
Scapegoats and people badly damaged by trauma will often not get the full love bombing or mirroring, narcissists will be able to win our devotion by acts of basic decency, small thoughtfulness and acting tolerant of our trauma symptoms, this will feel like everything to us, and once we decide this is a good, special person who makes us feel safe and we’d do anything for them, they’ll turn and exploit us endlessly.
Only way to spot this on time is: there will be a little voice of suspicion in your head going ’Isn’t this actually a little too perfect to be real? A little too convenient and ideal?’ and you will not want to listen to that voice. You should listen to it. It’s your instinct, trying to tell you something is off. I won’t blame you if you don’t. Most people won’t just walk away from their ideal partner because things seem 'too perfect’. But, get suspicious at least. Alert to red flags.
Enablers and Flying Monkeys
Narcissists can’t abuse if they’re on their own; they will work hard to build a reputation and charm people who they can later use for purposes of enabling, triangulating, controlling, scapegoating and smear campaigns. Enablers, or Flying Monkeys, are people who are either admiring the narcissists, want to be in narcissists good favour, are trauma bond and scared of the narcissists, are emotionally manipulated or simply too cowardly to point out that the narcissists is wrong and cruel. Most people will fall under the influence and want to be on narcissists side because it’s easier, tempting, feels safer, and doesn’t require much thinking. Narcissist will sometimes emotionally manipulate people to go do their dirty work; they will cry about how they miss their runaway children so flying monkeys would harass and judge children for running away, they will invent stories of abuse and insanity of their spouse so people would shame and judge the spouse who the narcissist is abusing. They create environment in which they can keep abusing and other people will jump to defend, justify, victim-blame and further confuse the victim. “They had a hard life”, “They’re your mother/father/uncle, you have to forgive them” or “He’s not that bad” are the phrases you’ll hear from enablers and flying monkeys. The term “Flying Monkey” is taken from the Wizard of Oz, because the Wicked Witch owned an army of brainless flying monkeys who would do her bidding – much how narcissists do with their enablers.
What enablers are doing is absolutely wrong. They should not be ready to defend abuse, or excuse and justify it, or believe and act on smear campaigns, not for any reason. They are hurting and isolating the victim, and regardless of how much they suck up to the narcissist, they will eventually become the targets too. Victims are right to cut out enablers just how they’re right to cut out abusers. You do not have to suffer for their cowardice or stupidity.
Triangulation is a form of abuse where narcissist brings another person into the relationship in order to bypass your boundary. For instance, you refuse to speak to the narcissist, so they send your family members, friends, or their friends, to talk to you about how much you’re hurting the narcissist and how cruel and unfair you’re being. Or, you’re trying to set a boundary in your marriage, and suddenly a friend or a relative comes talking to you about how unreasonable it is to set such awful boundary and to think of your spouse’s feelings and how bad they have it. Narcissist may try to use you for triangulation too, for example, they might tell you 'Go tell your sister she should do xyz and she’s making a mistake, she’ll listen to you’. It’s implied you agree with the narcissist, and that both of you are doing it for the sister’s good, when it’s more likely the narcissist is trying to force this person to do something they’re deeply set against and would only serve the narcissist. Narcissists will use their children to triangulate a marriage, they will often 'gang up’ other family members on their spouse, or one of the children. If you’re the victim, you’ll find yourself cornered, isolated, and in doubt whether you’re doing the right thing, trying to establish a boundary. Narcissists will also often show affection, compassion or even love to a third person simply to make you jealous and worried that something is wrong with you since you don’t get the same treatment. It’s what creates an illusion that the entire world is agreeing with the narcissist and no matter what you do, you look unreasonable for fighting them.
Narcissists will sometimes invent completely boogus scenarios and try to terrify people into doing their bidding and believing they’re right. As if the world will fall if narcissists don’t get what they want.
Society at large will often enable abusers; you can call out abuse and be rendered a 'killjoy’ because people prefer to enjoy cruelty together with the narcissist than to oppose them. Narcissists are capable of rousing a whole gang of people to turn against the victim and to aid in their abuse; this is scapegoating.
Gaslighting is a form of abuse where the abuser attacks your sense of reality. They will usually do this to obscure and deny acts of abuse. “I never said that” “That didn’t happen” “That’s not how I remember it” “You imagined it” or “You’re crazy, I would never do that!” are common gaslighting phrases abusers use for events that absolutely happened, and they absolutely remember. It’s even more powerful if they get other people to agree that you’re insane for remembering a past event of abuse. They can sometimes try to convince you that something didn’t occur while it’s still happening. This renders your intention of calling out abuse impossible; you’re now debating whether the event even happened and your sanity is questioned.
The point of this is to drive you into insanity; prolonged gaslighting will make you doubt your own memories and senses, and you will no longer be secure in your own point of view or version of reality. You will not be able to fight abuse, because you will get stuck on wondering if it’s even real, or if you’re making it up. Narcissist wants not only to abuse you, but to control your perception of it, reaction of it, and to disable you from telling anyone and being taken seriously. Smear campaign and gaslighting ensures that everyone thinks you’re lying to make problems, even you.
You can attempt to block gaslighting with phrases like 'That was not my experience’ 'I know the truth and I am not debating it with you’ ’ Don’t tell me what happened, I was there’ or ridiculing them for thinking it would work, but sometimes abuse will escalate if you refuse to play along, so be very careful with them.
Baiting, Projection and Scapegoating
Baiting is the way narcissist finds out which triggers will work on you. Types of baits are: Scaremongering, Accusations, False Claims, Guilt-tripping, Victim-playing, False Hope, or Intrigue. They will use these to elicit either fear&anxiety, or guilt&responsibility. You are likely to get pulled in and respond emotionally to these, and thus the narcissist will discover which one of these is most triggering and they can use it to either control you, or to affirm that they can still get you riled up, scared, guilty – they feed on being able to provoke these, it makes them feel powerful. They can later use the same trigger to push you into guilt and fear if you try to resist their control. If they continue doing this to you for a long time, you are likely to develop self-doubt and anxiety about your own persona. Way to counter this is to grey rock them.
Projection is a primitive defense-mechanism, where a person feels uncomfortable with their behaviour or thinking, so they accuse someone else of it to deflect the bad feelings from themselves. This can feel the same as baiting, but narcissists do it without realizing they’re giving you the information about what they’re actually feeling and doing. For instance, a narcissist will accuse you of being self-absorbed after they start feeling uncomfortable with how self-absorbed they are, they will start to call you selfish when it comes to their mind how selfish they are. They will accuse you of the exact shit they’ve been doing whether it’s lying, manipulating, faking for attention, cheating, exploiting, lacking compassion, stealing. These claims will feel like they’re coming out of nowhere at first, but eventually you will wonder if you’re really like that, and accept their projection on yourself, believing to really be as bad, or worse than they are. Even though they’ve done 100% of these things, while you have done none of it. This can also be countered by being aware what is going on and grey-rocking them. Deflecting the blame back to them will not work because they’ll either deflect it back, or throw a tantrum and insult you.
Scapegoating is the most vicious abuse narcissist can inflict on their victims and is designed to completely break a person’s spirit while creating power out of terror. Scapegoating doesn’t only serve to terrify and control the victim; it shows everyone what the narcissist is capable of, causing them to go very far to avoid becoming the next scapegoat. This creates enablers, flying monkeys and other benefits for narcissist to enjoy, while the scapegoat is isolated, not believed, and often shunned by the community to show loyalty to the narcissist.
Scapegoat will be blamed for every narcissists flaw, accused of provocation and creating trouble, shamed for their likes and interests, humiliated for their appearance or needs, their work will be rendered worthless and any pain and injury will be treated as if the scapegoat deserved it, or wanted it. Nothing is out of bounds to criticize or belittle in the scapegoat; flying monkeys will do it too, to either affirm themselves with the narcissist, or because they too crave power by stepping on someone defenseless. If a narcissistic parent decides to scapegoat a child, the other parent might stop caring for the child, and agree that the child deserves only to be neglected and shunned. The illusion narcissists create, of entire society agreeing that a person is irredeemable, deserving only of pain and ridicule, has turned people to suicide.
Scapegoat absorbs all of the narcissist’s malice, cruelty, sadism, baiting, projection, guilt and tantrums, so other people in the environment can get some relief and can use the scapegoat as their shield. You can be chosen to be a scapegoat for challenging the narcissist and standing up to them, for refusing to scapegoat someone else, for seeing thru them and showing any potential for undermining their authority, if narcissist is jealous of you, if narcissist feels threatened by your intellect, compassion and emotional depth they lack. And often, you’ll just be chosen because they’re in position of power and you’re unprotected. If you’re their child, a lonely classmate, employee with no high reputation or lots of friends, a minority, different in the way of sexuality or behaviour, anything that is easily used to sway a group of people against you. Narcissists will make sure to spread a smear campaign filled with lies against you, so that nobody would align with you, or believe you if you try to counter their word.
This type of treatment is beyond anything a human being could deserve, and devastating for the victim’s self esteem and sense of reality. After surviving a scapegoating situation, people might not want to find themselves in any social setting anymore. They might start believing themselves to be unlovable and defective. There is usually no way to counter it or fight your way out, unless there’s a higher authority who could side with you, or there’s a way to physically remove yourself from this environment.
Grey Rock, Hoovering and No Contact
Grey rock is a way to counter baiting and projection; narcissists learn and thrive on our emotional responses, it gives them a thrill to be able to send us into rage, terror, disbelief, shock or panic. Grey rocking means you give zero emotional response, and thus prove yourself very boring and a bad source of narcissistic supply. So, regardless of what egregious threat, accusation, claim or insult they make, you just reply with 'mhmm’ and look completely disinterested. You reply with one-word sentences, say 'sure’ or 'yup’ if they accuse you of something or try to fearmonger, answer questions with 'maybe’ or 'I don’t know’, agree with whatever bs they’re pulling out of their ass without caring, refuse to get pulled in or baited, give them no significance in the conversation until they leave. It is very hard to do, because they will up their game and even fly into rage to get a response, if they feel entitled to it. In some cases they might resort to violence. Often, they’ll keep changing the tactics until something works, and if nothing does, they’ll feel dejected and go find another source of supply. If they feel like they can’t get to you, this undermines their imagined power over you.
No contact is the only way to truly win against a narcissist; if they can’t reach you, they can’t manipulate or hurt you. This means no responding to messages, no letting them know where you live, blocking them on every service, and in most situations, even the enablers have to be no contact, because the narcissist is likely to send them into triangulation and use them to get to you. If you’re unable to go no-contact with a narcissist, a lot of people opt for 'low contact’, which means you only hear from them once a year, or once every 6 months, insufficient for them to gain control over you, and you grey-rock them all the way, and never share any personal info that might be used against you. Hoovering is something a narcissist will do to you after you’ve left them. They might leave you alone for a long time, then suddenly send a message saying they miss you, or they’re thinking about you and wishing you could do xyz together. They might also influence another person to tell you 'x misses you, they wish to see you again, they’re doing bad without you’. This is done to remind you of the 'good times’ and an attempt to draw you back in, as you’re supposed to have forgotten all the abuse already and be ready to take them back. It might come as outrageous expectation or denial of everything bad that happened – that’s because it is. All you have to do is grey-rock this, not respond, and enjoy in knowledge that even if you can’t ensure revenge, you can take yourself away from them, and they will never have you back.
Sources: Baiting, Scapegoating, LoveBombing, Gaslighting(video), Projection(video), Triangulation, Mirroring(video), FlyingMonkeys (video), Hoovering, Grey Rock
#narcissistic abuse#scapegoating#psychological abuse#narcissistic parents#emotional abuse#gaslighting#love bombing#mirroring#baiting#projection#triangulation#flying monkeys#enablers#this took 3 days to write wow#did you notice tumblr beta has a character limit???#i had to turn it off to be able to post this#i don't want a character limit on tumblr#let people read
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A Bucky request for you queen: Reader takes Bucky to meet her family for the first time, and he’s already nervous, but he’s even more nervous when you ask if he wants to hold your sisters new baby bc he doesn’t wanna hurt the baby and he thinks he’s still damaged.
But eventually you convince him to hold the baby and then he sees how good you are and he thinks about having a family for the first time and things can either get fluffy or smutty, whatever u r feelin
Have a great day love!🤍
A/N: enjoy some soft fluff! 🥺
Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: none
PART 2
MASTERLIST
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Bucky?” you stared at your reflection, putting your earrings in to complete the final outfit touch. You were getting ready to head over to your sister’s house in order to see her, her husband, and their newborn baby for the first time. You were excited to go, beyond ready to see her again and meet the newest addition to your family. Meanwhile Bucky was going through a series of emotions as he tried to ground himself and settle his nerves. He’d been reluctant to agree to go, not because he wasn’t happy to come, but more so because of the bundle of nerves that had welled up at the prospect of meeting a tiny, brand new life. As soon as he’d seen how your face light up in excitement at the prospect of going over, he couldn’t say no when you invited him to come with you. Then again, Bucky could never say no to you, “are you ready to go, my love?”
“I’m ready,” he agreed quickly as he stepped out of your shared bedroom, clearing his throat as he pulled on his leather jacket. You turned, flashing him a dazzling smile that still made him weak in the knees, when you noticed a worried expression on his face. You flounced over, hands going to his shoulders as you offered him a reassuring squeeze. You gazed into his eyes, trying to gauge what was going on in his mind when he let out a small huff. He knew you could read him like a book, “alright. I-I’m nervous about meeting...the baby.”
“James,” you reached up and rested your hand on his cheek, relaxing as he lightly keened into your touch. His hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned into him, brushing your lips against his, “you have nothing to be worried about. She’s just a baby, she’s got no right to judge and she won’t. She’ll see Uncle Bucky and fall right in love. Talk to me, love, tell me what’s going on.”
“You’re going to laugh,” he turned his gaze away, but you reached up and put your hand under his chin and shifted his gaze back to you, “it’s stupid.”
“I’m not going to laugh,” you insisted quietly, “you could tell me anything and it wouldn’t be stupid.”
“I just worry,” he sighed after a few beats of silence passed between the two of you, “what if...what if he’s still in there? Some small part of him and he...snaps. Or something. She’s going to be so small and all it would take it one little-”
“Bucky,” you reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in your own before lacing your fingers together, “you are not him anymore - he is not you. He never was. You are James Buchanan Barnes and no one else. He is not a part of you anymore at all. You are free of all of that. You are good, you are. I know sometimes it’s harder to believe than others, but it is true.”
“I know,” he closed his eyes for a few moments, lashes fluttering against soft skin as a small sigh passed his lips. He squeezed your hand back before resting his head on your shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his waist, “it’s just...I don’t want to have a moment of...weakness.”
“You won’t,” you insisted softly, “maybe right now you don’t need to believe in yourself, but can you believe in me?”
“Always,” you could feel him smiling lightly against your warm skin as he nodded.
“Good,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head, “now, trust me because I trust you in you. Now, let’s go, otherwise we’ll be late and then then everyone will be mad.”
“Everyone’s going to be there?”
“Just my parents, my brother, my sister and her husband and the baby of course,” you stepped back and looked him over before leaning in and kissing him quickly, “they know you, Bucky. The real you and they love you. There’s nothing to fear. Might I also add that you look very handsome today. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”
“You look beautiful,” you just happened to be wearing one of the dresses he loved most on you. He’d never commented on it, but you’d seen the way his blue eyes had lit up when you’d first worn it. You figured it would be something to help ease his nerves, almost to ground him as you had a suspicion that he might be nervous. He’d gotten much more comfortable around your family over the last year, but you knew that his general anxiety and fears sometimes bubbled up, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you promised as you held your hand out towards him. He strode over slowly before taking your hand in his and inhaling and exhaling deeply. He could do this - you knew he could and he knew he could too. Your support had meant everything to him and have him that little push he needed to get over the lingering bit of insecurity he had.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“She’s so small,” you said softly as you held the small baby in your arms. She was sleeping soundly, her little lips forming a perfect pout as you rocked her gently, “she’s beautiful.”
“She better be,” your sister joked, “nine months and then 30 hours of labor - she better be beautiful!”
“You’re the worst,” your eyes widened in surprise before you giggled quietly, “how’s she been?”
“Aurora’s been so good,” she said and you traced over her chubby little cheeks, “lots of long days and nights and more dirty diapers than I care to admit, but she’s worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I can see why,” she was so small and tiny, a new life that had so much ahead of her. The idea made your heart melt, “it must all be terribly scary and exciting.”
“It is,” she agreed as she nudged your knee with hers, “what about you and Bucky? Ever think about starting a family of your own? You guys have been together for a while and it’s something to think about…”
“We’ve...vaguely discussed it,” you confessed, looking up just in time to spy Bucky casting a quick look at you. He was mid-conversation with your father and brother but shot you a soft smile before turning back to the conversation. Your breath caught in your throat as a warmth settled in your belly, setting off a course of butterflies. What you hadn’t seen was all of the other gentle, tender glances he’d been throwing your way since you’d gotten there. You sister cleared her throat before drawing your attention back in, “but umm...it’s never really gotten that far. I dunno what’s going to happen, but I like to think maybe one day we’ll get married. I don’t see a future with anyone else.”
“You really love him, don’t you?” she asked softly as you nodded, feeling a warmth creep up into your cheeks as you avoided looking at her face.
“I do,” you bit your lip as you stared at the small baby that had started cooing softly. Her eyes slowly opened as she nodded before looking around and smiling. She waved her chubby little arm around before reaching for your finger and curling her fist around it. You beamed at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead, “just like you already.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
“Bucky?” your voice was soft as you walked outside to the backyard where he was standing and watching the sun slowly setting and painting the sky in brilliant pinks and purples. He hesitated for the slightest of moments before turning to you with a half smile on his features.You were holding Aurora in your arms, and she was already back to being half asleep. His nerves shot up but he quickly calmed down when he realized how tranquil the portrait painted in front of him was. You made it all seem so easy and effortless - it was new and foreign to you too, but you were handling it so well. Maybe he could as well, “would you like to meet your niece? To hold her?”
“I don’t...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he said softly as you both took a few steps towards each other. You offered him a hopeful little smile as the baby opened her eyes and turned to look at Bucky. He met her eyes and she babbled excitedly at him. Suddenly, something within snapped as his whole demeanor shifted and his expression softened as he took in a shuddering breath. He could do this, he realized, he could do this.
“Bucky?” this was more hopeful and optimistic as he came towards you and cautiously held his arms open to you. He only nodded as you looked at him to make sure it was okay. Shifting the tiny human from your arms to his, you watched as Bucky took to water like a duck to water as he made sure she was secure in his grip. It was a sight to behold and you felt your heart beat wildly.
“She’s so...new,” was all he could get out as you laughed at him. He almost couldn’t take his eyes off her as you gave his shoulder a squeeze, “so tiny.”
“That’s kind of what a baby is,” you joked as you stuck your tongue out at him and he jokingly scoffed, “see, it’s all easy squeezy lemon peasy.”
“It’s not as hard as I thought,” he confessed after a few moments, “it feels…”
“Yeah,” you pressed a kiss to the side of his head as you finished for him after a few beats of peaceful silence, “I know.”
“Do you think I could have a few moments alone?” he asked as you nodded, standing back and admiring the sight of your boyfriend holding your niece. It struck up something within you and while you weren’t quite sure what it was, you couldn’t help but revel in it.
“I’ll be inside,” you promised, “dinner will be ready soon.If you need anything, just say the word and I’ll be right there.”
“I know,” he grinned, “I know.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Bucky watched you walk back inside and close the screen door, holding a hand up as he lightly waved back at you. A wary sigh escaped his lips as the baby watched him with nothing but curiosity in her eyes. He’d held babies before, in another life, one which was stolen from him but had led him here. But he wasn’t angry about that anymore; he’d spent many years in anger about it and he was past that. He knew, one of the things that had helped him out of that anger and hatred was you. If his cards had been played any differently, you wouldn’t have been a part of his, and you had slowly but definitely become one of the best parts of his life.
It felt so foreign but so right in that moment as he stared at the small life in his arms. He’d never really pictured himself with a family of his own, once in his old life he might have, but he hadn’t in a long time. With you, something had trickled in, slowly blooming over time to become stronger and stronger. And after seeing you with the baby, there was something in him that had come full circle. And as he looked at her little face, he couldn’t help but wonder what your own child would like. Would they have his eyes? His dark shock of hair? Or would they take after you? Either way, he knew whatever child the two of you might have would be beautiful.
“Hi Aurora,” he whispered to her as he allowed him to touch her cheek, finding the faith and trust deep within himself, “you’re still so new to this world. You don’t know about all the horrors and scary parts yet. But there are so many good things too, lots of beautiful things. I will do my best to protect you from all the bad parts, I promise. Whatever you need, I will be there.”
She smiled at him, a toothless, gummy thing as he beamed at her. Maybe...maybe one day this could be a reality for the two of you as well. Bucky let himself relax as it felt like a weight lifted off of his shoulders at the realization that he was okay. That nothing had happened and nothing would happen. He was okay...he was okay. He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered how you looked holding her earlier. The sight had sparked something within him too; it was a sight he had thoroughly enjoyed seeing. For the first time in a long time, he had allowed himself to think that maybe he could have this too, that he could have a family and happiness of his own.
A sigh, this one contented and happy, escaped his lips as he cradled Aurora against his chest and watched the sun disappear behind the horizon, “I think maybe one day I could be a dad. I think..I think I’d like that. Especially after today...I feel like it could be an actual possibility. I was nervous about today - meeting you. I know it sounds silly, especially since you’re just...a baby. I wasn’t sure if I could...trust myself - it’s still hard sometimes. Not often but there are times. You helped me to see that maybe it’s not so hard after all. Whatever it is, I-I’m willing to try. Especially with your Aunt. You’re going to love her, you know. I do.I really, really do. I think she’s everything.”
“Bucky?” you poked your head out the door and beamed, “dinner’s ready!”
“Coming,” he slowly made his way back over to you. Opening the door wider, you ushered him inside, a hand going to the small of his back as he handed Aurora back over to your sister. He returned to your side, an arm snaking around your waist as he kissed the top of your head, “hi.”
“Hello my love,” you grinned back at him, “how’d it go? She seemed to like you...you seemed to like her…”
“I did,” he agreed, “we had a good talk. Well, I did most of the talking, but she’s a good listener.”
“Hmm,” you snorted in laughter, “you’re something else, Barnes.You’re lucky I love you so much.”
“I love you, sweetheart,” he leaned in so he could whisper in your ear, “maybe later we could talk. There’s some...things that have been on my mind for some time.”
“Bucky?” you gave him a confused look but he cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, “everything alright?”
“Yes,” he promised gently, “everything is perfect.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
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Have you considered writing a "Truth" fix-it with Marinette admitting her secret to Luka? Maybe he could be a confidant like Marianne was for Fu.
Truth was having a terrible, awful, rotten, very bad day. If he could use his powers on the universe, he would've asked what he did to deserve this kind of treatment.
It started with his girlfriend keeping a secret from him concerning her ditching their dates, then escalated to Jagged Stone - who'd been his idol for years - turning out to be the father who abandoned him, and now he was fighting Ladybug and Chat Noir in Marinette's room after he’d been told by multiple people that Marinette’s supposed “secret” was that she was in love with Adrien, as if he hadn’t already known that and they just wanted to mock him.
His civilian self had never been never someone to presume, but now it's all he could do. Marinette must've ditched him because she didn't really love him, Jagged probably never even felt bad about abandoning him, and despite Adrien never even trying to win Marinette's heart, he was just better than Luka in every way, because the rich model with all the connections Marinette could ever want would always outmatch the "guitar boy" who worked a part-time job, lived on a houseboat, and had parents who either kept secrets from him or flat-out didn't want him.
Had it not been for his akumatization working to drive him towards a goal without interference, he would've cried. He wanted nothing more than to wake up and think the whole thing was just a bad nightmare, with dating Marinette just being brief highlights of it that kept getting shot down with a reminder that he wasn't good enough.
He wanted it all to be over.
Chat Noir was still trying to banter with him, but Truth wasn't having it. While going after Ladybug first wasn't ideal, as she was the smarter out of the two, it was easier to get rid of Chat Noir and deal with the heroes one at a time.
Thus, when Ladybug had run across the room to use her Lucky Charm, Truth acted. He managed to grab Chat Noir and throw him into the chest that Ladybug had been hiding in before, then locked it tight to prevent Chat from escaping. That done, he went after Ladybug, who was stunned but nevertheless prepared to fight. Chat Noir being out of the picture didn't impact her ability to fight, but Truth had Pharo on his side to knock Ladybug around when it was too hard to get a spotlight on her.
Finally, he managed to tackle her, her lying on her back and him pinning her arms down. The chest nearby rattled in protest, but Pharo shined its spotlight on it, preventing it from moving anymore.
Truth watched as Ladybug looked around for a method of escape, but she came up empty. Her eyes widened in the realization that... this was it. This was the end.
"Now," Truth said, clamping down harder on her arms as he leaned down, "tell me the truth!"
Ladybug tried to shut her lips tight, but he could see her struggling, her body shaking as she tried to free her arms to stop herself. It was only a matter of time.
Then, her mouth opened, and out came the words, "I love you, Luka!"
He froze, his fingers twitching in his confusion while he could only stare down at her in shock.
"And I'm so sorry! I'm sorry for everything! I wanted to tell you - I always wanted you to know - but I couldn't, and you deserve so much better than a hero who can't give you the time you deserve!"
A cold realization washed over him in form of a shudder. Those words could've been interpreted in so many ways, but he was the only one who registered their real meaning: that Marinette was Ladybug, her "ditching" had been her needing to fight akuma, her keeping secrets had been out of a desire to protect him, and he—
...He had only caused her more problems by getting akumatized, being no better than all those that had interrupted their dates. She loved him, and he gave into Shadow Moth to go against her.
Ladybug continued rambling, oblivious to his internal crisis, "You're incredible, and I just love you so much. I knew you were special from the day we met, when you called me—"
Truth clamped his hand over her mouth, preventing her from spilling any more secrets. He could feel Shadow Moth's influence in his mind, demanding that he remove his hand, but Truth ignored it, just as he'd been ignoring so many of his commands. The energy from akumatization that once made him feel powerful now made him feel disgusted with himself, guilt swirling in his gut and making him regret everything.
He reached up with his other hand, grabbing at his necklace and tearing it off. Ladybug's brows rose at the crunching of his akumatized object, and the last things he saw were the akuma flying free and Ladybug's expression turning to something...
thoughtful.
—————
Marinette de-transformed in a nearby alleyway and headed down towards the Seine, having not yet processed all of her feelings from that day. She had a little time left, given that Luka had quietly asked to walk back home himself, but she’d gotten no closer to clearing her mind since leaving her house. She was still a jumbled mess of "what if"s and "but maybe"s, and ultimately knew that it was going to be a matter of essentially winging it and just saying everything that she had on her mind.
As she approached the Liberty to wait for Luka, she paused as she noticed another figure already standing there. After all, Jagged Stone wasn't exactly someone you could not notice.
Before she could debate on whether to approach him, Jagged seemed to sense her and glanced over to make eye contact. She stiffened, only able to wave awkwardly and pretend like she didn't know why he'd be there.
"Hey, frockstar," Jagged greeted tiredly, his smile not quite reaching its usual lengths. "What are you doing here?"
"Um..." She walked over, standing next to him and staring in the direction where Luka was going to come from. "I need to talk to my boyfriend."
"Ah." It took a few seconds for the words to actually register with him, at which point Jagged turned to her, mouth agape as he grabbed her shoulders. "My son's your boyfriend?!"
She didn't quite have the energy to feign total surprise at the “son” comment, but she didn't have to. Jagged immediately pulled back without really looking at her, regaining his composure just as quickly as he'd lost it.
"You... wouldn't happen to be able to put in a good word for me, hm?" He grinned sheepishly, jabbing at Marinette with a hopeful elbow. "Haven't exactly figured out what I'm gonna say yet."
She was torn between being upset with him on Luka’s behalf and feigning sympathy because it was not only none of her business, but she was in a similar boat and felt like she had no right to judge.
She went with the latter, smiling weakly and jabbing him back. "That makes two of us." Then, she frowned as her nerves came back. "And... anyway, I don't know if he'll want to keep being my boyfriend after tonight."
For once, Jagged didn't pry or ask questions, the atmosphere probably felt even by him. They just stood there, waiting.
After a few minutes, Luka finally walked into view, staring at the ground and seeming defeated. Marinette felt ill at the sight, her fingers clutching at the fabric of her capris to find a sense of stability.
Should she approach him? Let Jagged go first? Or, maybe that would seem evasive, so—
She felt a pat on her shoulder, looking up at see Jagged urging her forward with his eyes. She wasn't sure if she should be grateful or consider him to be the evasive one, but Luka's akumatization was also mostly because of her and thus it only made sense for her to go first.
She ran the distance to get to him, Luka glancing up at the sound of her footsteps and stopping as she got to him. The usual light in his eyes wasn't there, and she had to force herself to even say a simple, "Um... hi."
"Hey." He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his head. "I'm really sorry, Marinette."
"Huh?"
"I got akumatized, and I was in your room when I woke up." His brows furrowed with uncharacteristic anxiety. "I didn't have to hear the song to know what the notes were. I must've gone after you."
Marinette blinked, having not even thought about him feeling guilty over the whole thing. She shook her head, reassuring, "No no! I mean—you told me to run! You didn't go after me, not really!"
She wasn't technically lying; he never sought her out to her knowledge, and even as Ladybug, she'd always had to chase him.
Luka sighed in relief, though his expression didn't change much. "I'm glad."
He met her gaze again. She yearned for the way he used to look at her like he wanted to get lost in her forever, but his eyes soon darted elsewhere as he noticed Jagged Stone standing not too far away.
Marinette tried not to get discouraged, stepping back into his vision and waving her hands to try and divert his attention. "Ah—don't worry about that! Look—" She paused, needing a moment to breathe, then lowered her hands and shifted to seriousness. "Can we talk? And walk? It's... really important."
She couldn't imagine the conclusions he must've been coming to in his head, partly because he didn't voice any of them. His eyes merely searched hers, seeking nothing in particular.
"Sure, Marinette," he agreed.
She managed a smile, happy that she made it this far at least. She reached out to take his hand, but stopped herself at the last second and simply walked past him, Luka taking one look back at Jagged before following after her.
The walk was tense and quiet, the only sounds coming from the evening ambiance and their footsteps. The uncertainty of it all gave her anxiety, but she'd been sure of that uncertainty since she first decided to talk to him about this.
Because, whatever the future of their relationship was, it would be in his hands.
—————
As they arrived at her intended destination, Marinette heard Luka briefly stop behind her, perhaps processing where she just took them. It was the Canal Saint-Martin, also known as the place where they'd first agreed to date, and now it was potentially the place where they'd break up as well. Marinette vaguely pondered if that would be for the best, like the memories would just cancel each other out and Luka could forget about it altogether if he wanted to.
Nevertheless, she walked over, glancing at the bridge for reference and sitting in roughly the same place she’d been all that time ago. She then tossed Luka a hopeful look, and he walked over to sit next to her.
Steeling herself up, Marinette took a breath, inhaling until she couldn't take in any more oxygen and then exhaling for just as long. At least a little more emotionally prepared than she was before, she finally spoke up.
"I...I'm sorry, Luka. I'm sorry that I got you akumatized—" She saw that he was about to interject and cut him off. "—and I know you don't blame me, but it doesn't matter—I mean—it does matter, but I'm still sorry anyway, okay? You had a right to be hurt and maybe if I'd explained myself better, then things would’ve been different."
He still seemed to want to argue, but was holding himself back so she could continue, which she appreciated.
"It's not that I didn't trust you. If anything, I—I trust you more than anyone else. You've never betrayed me and I know you'd never tell anyone if I told you my secret. You understand me even when I'm being the disaster that everyone laughs at - everyone but you - and..."
She sighed, pulling out her phone and navigating to her text conversation with him. Mentally wincing, she tapped on the photo of her Adrien wall that Ziggy had sent, then presented it to him. He leaned in to make sure of what it was, then looked back at her, clearly not understanding where she was going but knowing it wasn't her being spiteful or rubbing it in.
She said as much, "You don't assume anything, like when you got sent this dumb picture. I know it was obvious that it was an accident, but you didn’t have to go with it and you did. I wouldn't have blamed you if you got mad, but you didn't. Whenever I'm stammering and being an idiot because I'm scared or nervous, you don't judge me for it or think that whatever comes out is what I actually mean. That's so important to me, Luka, you have no idea."
She settled the phone between them and kept the picture on-screen. Her gaze flickered down to it, silently encouraging him to look at it too, then glanced back up at him.
"How much do you know about fashion?"
He tilted his head, thrown off by the sudden question, but answered anyway, "Only what my sister's ever talked about."
"Do you know why fashion trends die so quickly?" When he shook his head, she explained, "Part of it is the over-exposure. When people hear about what's in at the time, suddenly everyone starts wearing whatever it is, so everywhere you look, you see it, and then people get tired of it."
There was a flicker of understanding in his eyes, Luka looking back-and-forth between her and the phone like he was piecing a puzzle together.
She confirmed it for him, "That's why I have so many. I don't feel that way about him anymore - I don't think I ever did - but I just don't know how to act around him. I hate how the whole idolizing thing took over my life and I already tried everything else, so I figured this might work." She groaned. "And of course it blew up on me and you got sent that without any context. Of course."
He gave a look of concern at the exasperation in her tone, but she tried to ignore it, not wanting his sympathy.
"My point is..." She gestured vaguely at the phone. "I stammer about him, but it's not because I'm in love with him, it's because I've never really been his friend and I don't know how to do it. I'm not dedicated to him and I'm getting better at not doing the stuff I used to."
His eyes flickered again and she wondered if he was thinking about that day on the Liberty where she was late to Kitty Section playing, where she ignored Adrien entirely. Just for emphasis, she tapped her phone and deleted the picture, adding on, "I'm only dedicated to you, Luka. I—"
She shifted in place, hitting the wall behind her feet a few times with her heels to ease off the anxiousness. It was so much easier when she’d been Ladybug, though granted that she was under the influence of Truth's spell at the time. She and Luka were dating, yet she was sure he'd ask her to end it, making putting herself out there all the scarier.
"I..." She met his gaze. "I love you." He gaped at the confession and she continued on, "I love you like I haven't loved anyone else before; definitely not Adrien. It's the kind of love that actually makes me happy, and comfortable, and my life is better with you in it."
She bit her bottom lip, hands curling into fists at the tight feeling in her chest. She turned, placing one hand on the ground as she began to push herself up, her other hand landing on Luka's shoulder to wordlessly insist that he didn't have to stand with her, so his gaze merely followed her as she moved.
"But that's the thing." She took a few steps away, back turned to him as she stared up at the sky. Her stomach twisted itself in knots at the words in her throat, but she nonetheless admitted, "I don't think it's mutual."
Luka's voice took on a sharp, offended tone. "Marinette—"
She spun to face him, cutting him off, "—and I know that you're going to say something sweet and heartfelt about how everyone has a place in your life and then something about how bad notes can still make good songs, but... Luka, you don't understand."
She turned away from him again, this time pacing as she counted off events. "Bullies and liars target me, and sometimes that means going after people I care about. I'm clumsy and a stuttering mess and you wouldn't believe the mistakes I made that I couldn't have even seen coming. It seems like I draw bad luck wherever I go; I mean, your mother is one of the most chaotic people I can think of, so you'd think she'd get akumatized a bunch, but it was only the day I showed up that she did. Even the other boys who only loved me for a little bit either got akumatized over it or became an anxious mess until they found out who they actually liked, and that last one would've at least been really useful to think about if I'd just made the connection back then, but I didn't!" She paused, then met his eyes with a pained expression. "And then there's you."
"What do you mean?"
She stopped in place, not knowing whether to be touched or not by the fact that he either hadn't noticed or was pretending not to. Throwing her arms out, she explained, "Things go bad whenever we hang out! I already mentioned your mom, but then there was the ice rink; even without me getting distracted when all you were trying to do was make me feel better, there was an akuma and you probably got frozen solid by him. When we were hanging out on the Liberty, Adrien just happened to show up on that day with Kagami to turn me into a mess, and then Desperada came to make everything worse."
Marinette couldn't remember when she'd started thinking about such things or feeling guilty for everything that ever happened. There was just a point where it felt like she was always apologizing for something, no matter how small it was, and stuff being her fault became par for the course by then.
"Then, both times you got akumatized, it was because of me—and I know you don't blame me, but I'm always involved! You were ready to leave the TV station, but because I tried to put up a fight, Bob Roth threatened me and that was your last straw. Today was the same thing; you were already upset about what happened with your dad and then it was me who sent you over the edge!" She shut her eyes tight, the memories painful to relive. "You're always putting up with me, Luka. You put up with me crying all over you and even dropped your guitar for it, and then you had to protect me from Miracle Queen's mind control! I'm supposed to protect you!"
He recoiled at the volume of her voice, then furrowed his brows, his eyes darting back and forth as he seemed to process something particular about what she said.
"I'm supposed to make you happy, and I can't. Out of all the people in Paris who should be able to keep you from getting akumatized, it should be me, and all I've done is hurt you. You're the calmest person I've ever known and then I came along and gave you feelings you didn't ask for. Sometimes—" She shook, choking briefly on the words. "Sometimes I wonder if it would've been better for you if you never met me."
Luka's gaze sharpened. He didn't reply, but turned fully to her, pushing himself up as if to approach.
However, she stepped back, his look then flashing to hurt. She took a breath, expression determined as she said with her whole chest, "I'm Ladybug, Luka."
He froze, his body going stiff and his eyes blinking rapidly at either the reveal itself or the way she’d so firmly said it.
"I'm Ladybug," she repeated quietly, this time with an ache in her voice, "and I'm telling you not because I trust you—I mean, I do trust you—but I also believe in you; that you wouldn't sell me out to Shadow Moth even with all the mind control in the world. You've always had my back and supported me even when I didn't deserve it, and I want you to know. It's dangerous and I don't know what'll happen and I'm scared but I want you to know it." She put a hand to her chest. "I'm the one who has to save Paris whenever something happens, and that's why I always had to ditch you. I'm the one who messed up and lost you your identity as Viperion. I'm the new guardian of the miraculouses, and the kwami don't even listen to me; they invaded my privacy and it was one of them that took and sent you that picture."
She realized that her vision was staring to blur and looked skywards, trying to fight back tears.
"I-I'm not a normal girl. I can't be a normal girlfriend, or give you everything you'd want out of a normal relationship. It's my fault that you got akumatized because I just—I wanted you. I wanted to be in a relationship and go on dates with you, but Ladybug isn't supposed to want things. She's supposed to be selfless and only worry about everyone else, but... you made me happy, and I wanted more of that. You were the first person I really felt like I could be myself around without being scolded or lied to and I thought it would be okay..."
She noticed him moving and quickly turned her back to him, at least able to let the tears fall now without him seeing them.
"I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I always think I can handle things but then it goes wrong and I end up hurting people. If I'd just gone home the day of the music festival instead of complaining about Adrien not being around, then none of this would've happened." She sighed in frustration, wiping her eyes clean of tears, and she was so focused on forcing her words out that she didn't hear the footsteps coming from behind her. "I-it's okay if you want to break up, Luka. It wasn't fair that I kept you in the dark, and I understand if you're mad, or you want to date other people, o-or if you don't love me anymore—"
Her voice cut off with a gasp as a pair of arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her against a familiar, warm chest that had an unfamiliarly pounding heartbeat. She tried to look up at him, but his hair was shadowing out his eyes and left only his trembling lips visible. In fact, his whole body was shaking, as if it were winter and no amount of layers could keep him warm.
"L-luka?" she called, confused.
"Stop," he begged quietly, the hug tightening briefly to give her a squeeze. "Please."
"But..." She trailed off, acknowledging the request. She'd never heard his voice just break like that.
"You've already sung your part of our duet, Marinette. Now it's my turn." He paused, taking an unsteady breath before continuing, "I'm glad you told me your secret. I know you're worried about me being in danger, but it makes me happy that you can rely on me now. Music boxes aren't meant to stay shut, and you deserve someone who you can open up to, even if I hate that you have to mute yourself in the first place to keep everyone safe."
She opened her mouth, wanting to say that it was okay and it was just her job, but kept quiet to respect his earlier request.
"My life isn't worse because I met you," he murmured, an unspoken plea in his tone that told her to never think that way again. "I felt things with you that I never have before. My song started out as a flatline, then we met and you made it move. Music isn't exciting if it doesn't change but you did that for me. What you might see as bad notes is my passion for you, and I won't apologize for it or make you apologize for messing up just like every person does. I'd never wanted someone before you, and even if you never wanted to date me, I'm grateful that I got to know you; to fall for you."
Marinette blinked in an attempt to stop oncoming tears, Luka pulling her closer for comfort when she whimpered.
"All that mattered to me is when we were together, just the two of us. That's when your melody plays the clearest and when I get to see you. Those two weeks when we were preparing our music video were some of the best two weeks of my life because I got to see you in your element. I've accepted every break in the tempo because I've heard you, I've heard the Marinette you've wanted to be, and I want to be there for every beat of it." Then, he exhaled, adding with a somber tone, "I can't imagine how much pressure you must be under, or how awful things are and how impossible it must be to sing when you can't even take a breath without something going wrong. I just... I want to help you be happy. I don't care what you, your kwami, or anyone else says; you're allowed to be happy, Marinette, and I'd drop a thousand of my guitars if it meant that you get to play happy notes one more time."
She let out a sob, blushing pink as her hands unconsciously raised to rest on the ones around her waist, Luka sighing in content and nestling further against her.
"So I don't want to break up with you, Marinette. Not at all. I just want to find ways to make it easier on you - on both of us - and if that means finding ways of planning our dates around akuma attacks, or not planning at all and going wherever the rhythm leads, then that's what we'll do."
She tried to keep quiet, but couldn't help voicing, "W-what if... what if it doesn't work? What if I have to bail on you every now and then? People will think—"
"I was never worried about that," he retorted immediately. "I'm a Couffaine. My clothes are ripped, I carry my guitar in the basket on my bike, and I live on a boat. I stopped caring about what people thought a long time ago."
He was unbelievable. Marinette didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both. He just held her there, his heart still beating against her back but now serving as something to calm her.
"The only opinions that matter in our duet are yours and mine," he said. His hold loosened, though hesitating like it was physically painful to release her. He let her go nonetheless and held his hands out in front of her, palms facing the sky. "So what about you, Marinette?"
She stared at his hands, then slowly raised her own to hover over them. She breathed up, then slid her fingers across his palms until their calloused fingertips met, neither making any move to pull away.
"I...I want to make it work," she whispered, leaning back against him. "I want to be with you, Luka. I'm at my best when I'm with you. I just..."
She stopped, knowing that he would have an argument for anything she said. If she apologized for the failed dates that she can never fix, he'd argue that it'd be worse to leave things off a sour note, and that not every good song starts out good. If she tried to suggest other people for him to date or imply that it'd be easier with someone else, he'd say that his guitar plays only for her and he wouldn't change that even if he could.
"...I'm sorry," she said, smiling her first genuine smile of the night. "I won't doubt myself anymore."
Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was smiling too. "Do you feel better?"
"Yeah. Do—do you?"
"Yeah," he replied, voice thick with emotion.
Wanting to see his face, she slowly dropped their hands and turned to face him, silently hoping that she didn't look awful from her earlier tears. However, to her surprise, she noticed that Luka's eyes were watery despite his smile, just like her. Realizing something, she raised a hand to her shoulder, where his face had been hovering over ever since he'd hugged her from behind.
It was wet.
"Oh, Luka..."
She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him against her. He returned the gesture, squeezing her lovingly and giving her back a few rubs that she responded to with a happy hum. They held the position, the warmth of the hug completely negating the slight chill of the night air.
Even when they pulled away, it wasn't far nor for long. Marinette wasn't sure which of them initiated it, but one moment they were staring at each other and the next they were kissing. It had been long overdue and she idly thought that it was better than she would've imagined their kiss at the cinema to be.
She breathed in his scent, her fingers blindly reaching up to slide into his hair. She almost felt like crying again, though this time in relief that everything had actually worked out for once and they were kissing without interruption. Even though Luka was more subtle in showing his emotions, she could tell that he felt the same from the way his hand on her back shook, practically vibrating with happiness.
The kiss eventually broke with a soft click, though she kept her hands on him for the sake of stability. They were both breathing a little hard from the emotional toll of the conversation yet not necessarily in a bad way.
And the love in his eyes - the life that she missed so much - was back. She honestly thought she wouldn’t have seen it again and she was tempted to just keep kissing him in relief, part of her aware that he definitely wouldn’t have minded it.
It took her a few tries to get the words out, hesitant to break up their wordless exchanges of love. She knew what revelation was waiting for Luka back at his houseboat - maybe he'd already guessed it - and she wanted to be there for him, so she asked carefully, "Do you... want me to come back to the Liberty with you?"
Eyes half-lidded, he gave her a soft smile and gently squeezed her hand. "Yeah. Do you want to sleep over?"
She nodded. "Mm, I'd like that."
Holding hands, they began making their way back to the Liberty, the ambiance of the night finally coming through to soothe them. Marinette glanced down at their joined hands, then at the wide smile on Luka's face, the latter clearly caused by the former.
She looked ahead at where they were walking, pretending that she hadn't just been admiring him. "We could always go out for breakfast together. That might work out."
"That sounds amazing." Luka feigned a look of thoughtfulness. "Maybe Shadow Moth doesn't like mornings?"
Marinette squeaked mid-giggle. "You'd think that'd be the case from the name, huh?"
He chuckled, covering his mouth with his free hand, and the conversation remained light from there. Any bad feelings from the day had evaporated, leaving only smiles and hope for the future in its place.
Everything was going to be okay. For once, Marinette could truly believe that.
#type: story#story: oneshot#Flower Arrangement Shipping#episode: Truth#other: ml spoilers#((Bold of you guys to assume that I only had one of these in me.))#Pro LukaMari#Lukanette
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9. Finally ((PROFESSOR TECHNO))
THIS CHAPTER HAS SMUT! IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THAT, DON'T FUCKEN READ THIS. OKAY.
Description: It's Friday night, your first date night with Techno. One thing leads to another and you end up waking up in his bed in the morning.
Warning(s): SMUTTTTTTT, public teasing, choking, slight slapping, spanking, fingering, penetration.
Words: 5672
Last part :: Next Part
Friday
Today was Friday... And your first dinner date with Techno.
The entire time you were in classes you were freaking out, anxiety filled your whole body. A simple text telling you,
T to Y/n:
Picking you up at 6pm
You couldn't sit still, just imagining him in a fancy outfit and taking you out. You've been on a date with him before, but this was an actual date with him, dinner and everything.
As you sat in your chair, putting your makeup on, Minx sits on your twin size bed. Scrolling down on her phone, but ever so often she would glance over at you.
"So who are you going on a date with?" She already knew you were going on a date without asking, how you dressed in that black short dress and how nervous you were. She still asks bluntly, out of the blue for you. Stopping you mid-way putting your mascara on. Even though you were pretty sure your makeup was going to ruin by the end of tonight. You blink at her question, "Say that again?" You turn to your side to face her. "Don't act like you didn't hear me." She squints her eyes at you, she was still somewhat pissed that you still won't tell her who you were with yesterday. And now you were on your way on a date, most likely with the same person. "I'm not going to tell you Minx, stop asking." Turning back to your small mirror to continue your makeup.
She grunts at you, "Why can't you tell me it's Karl? I already know it's him." You put down your mascara. "And how do you know that Judge Minx?" You ask, it was clear that you didn't want to talk about it with her, but of course Minx could tell and loved how easily she could work you up. "Karl told Alex, who told me that you were with him at some book store yesterday." She explains, within each word your eyes widened.
FUCKEN KARL.
"Did he mention anyone else?" Worried, what if Karl said you were with someone else. He could actually exposed the both of you.
FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.
"No he didn't, why?" She arches her eyebrows to your question. "No reason." You rush out, no reason for her to suspect you.
A small smirk starts to form on your lips, slowly looking back at your best friend. "Wait. You're still talking to Alex?" You try your hardest to make Minx forget or simply stop her from talking about your date. Seeing the shade of pink starting to rise on her cheeks, you could tell you can tease her about this. "Don't change the subject Y/l/n!" She wasn't going to let you off so easily.
You finish your makeup with a signature red lipstick.
Reaching down to put on a simple necklace with faux diamond earrings. Turning towards you mirror that hung on your dresser door, looking at yourself. You could tell you were smokin' hot, but would he like it? The next best option was to ask your roomy.
"Whatcha think?" You spin back to her on your heels, she's still on your bed, but now laying down on her back. Which she rolls herself over and faces you. "Holy shit-'' She mutters, loud enough for you to hear her. She starts to sit up, "You look stupid hot Y/l/n! He's gonna eat’cha up!" You could feel your cheeks heating up from her complements. "Karl's gonna love this-" You finally cut her off, "It's not Karl!" You huff out, she stares for a couple of seconds, just thinking.
It was hard enough to lie about where you were going at lunch and now this, but you had enough. You obviously couldn't say it was your Professor, but that doesn't mean you have to it was Karl. You just need to make up some random name that she nor any of your other friends could remember. "What- Who is it then?" Waiting for you to respond, walking up to her. "I'll tell you everything about him later tonight, I promise." You reach out for her to give you a hug as a goodbye.
She hugs you back, "Be safe, if he tries anything I will kill him." She says in a serious tone, which she would most likely hurt him, but not kill him. And the hurting would probably come from Schlatt. You chuckle at her and pull away. "I want to hear everything about this mystery date! You hear me!" She points out to you, you chuckle at her. "Love you Minx." You start heading to the dorm door, grabbing your keys and wallet. "Love you too!" Both of you smile at each other.
Heading down the stairs and making your way out of the house-ing building.
You stand by the parking lot, the cold weather starts to breeze as the sun starts to set, leaving a shiver down your spine. You should have grabbed a sweater on your way out. But as you think, his car is already pulling up towards you.
The car was completely glossy black, the sunset shining on it perfectly.
He steps out of his car, as he starts to walk towards you, you see his whole outfit. You couldn't and wouldn't keep your eyes off of him, starting at his head. His soft curls perfectly taken care of, a clean shaven face, he wore a crisp black suit with a matching bowtie. As your eyes lower down to his shoes, they were faux leather black loafers. He looked so fine.
He lets you check him out, at the same moments his eyes are all over you. Stepping closer to each other. "What are you wearing?" He ask wide eyed. In shock that you actually showed up in that. "What?" You act confused on what he meant, you loved how he stared at your body like a meal he was ready to devour. "What are you wearing?" He growls in a deep tone, clenching his hands into a fit. Almost ready to tear off your lil outfit. How it hugged you in the right place, it was taking him great strength to not just take you to his house right away, but you two have dinner first.
Even though it was going to be hard to resist.
He kisses you, rather quickly then desired. "Com'on darling, we got a reservation." He says, walking you to the car. Now that you think of it, he didn't even tell you what place he was taking you too.
-----
He gets out the door first, telling you to stay seated, but it's clear when he opens your door. Holding out a hand for you to take.
You grab onto his hand and step out of his car, your heels clicking with each step. Looking over at the entrance, it was so fancy. More luxurious than anything, "So what do you think?" He gestures about the restaurant, as you admire it. "I would have been fine going to a burger joint." You whisper with a giggle, he glance down at you. "Good to know." He says matter of factly.
Walking past the front tall door was a small desk, a very well dressed gentleman stood behind it. Your eyes immediately scan the entire place, looking left to right. Seeing all the small tables with a white sheets covering them, a bouquet of flowers in the middle. All of them had only two chairs.
The lighting was dim, to set the mood as romantic as you could get.
In the back was a massive bar, the shells that held the liquor lining the whole wall up. Impossible to actually reach the drinks, more as a way to decorate and show off the alcohol.
But Techno's words pulled you back, "Reservation for Mr and Mrs. Blade." He says with ease, your lips parting slightly. Did you hear what he said? Or were you making it up in your head? You stare up at him with amazement in your eyes. "Special occasion? Anniversary of some sort?" The gentleman turned to you, grabbing two menus for both of you. Techno, for a second looks down at you, a playful smirk on his face. "Indeed." He looks back at the man, who is leading both of you to your table.
You squeeze his hand, trying to get his attention. But he doesn't bat an eye for you, continuing to follow the man. How could he just skimp through that and not make you want to get all over him.
The gentleman sits you down at a table, close by the bar, but not too close that drunks will be wandering by. Techno pulls out your chair before going to his.
"One of our waiters will come get you started soon, enjoy your evening." The gentleman says, quickly walking back to his table.
Sitting down in the chair you look at him, he's looking down at the menu, undoubtedly ignoring you for fun. You were done at this point, "Mrs. Blade huh?" He nods to your question, now that you know he's listening to you, you tell him. "I like the sound of that." It was shortly said, but you pick up the menu and place it upright, covering your face. Unsure how he would react to your statement.
"Oh yeah?" He asks, his eyebrow going up with a smirk. You look to the side of your menu. Dropping it down, you smile at him. "Y/n Blade, it has a nice ring to it." He winks at you, making you blush on the spot.
He looks back to the menu, "Have any idea what you want darling?" His eyes down the list of food. "If only you were on this menu." His eyes shoot open, so bluntly you tell him with slight amusement in your voice. Seeing how he reacted to your bluntness. He slowly looks up at you, "I could say the same thing about you." His voice drops to a deep harsh tone. It was only a few minutes into this date and you could feel a puddle forming in your panties.
Suddenly you feel one of his shoes tapping your heel, glancing from your menu back to him. He didn't seem to notice or didn't seem to bother him.
A lady, a couple of years older than you comes up to your table. "Hi, what could I get you two started with? Drink wise." She asks politely with a smile. Both of you turn to her. "Hello, I would love a white wine." He speaks first, you were still looking through the drinks. "Sweet or dry Sir?" She asks, ready to write what he orders. "Sweet, riesling ice wine please." She nods to him, "Great choice Sir." She taps her pen to him, she turns her attention to you now. Waiting for you to tell her your drink choice. "I'll have the same." She nods again while writing, "Perfect, I'll come back in a second with the drinks and give you another second to think about meals." And she was off, walking to her next table.
"You're into sweet wine?" You ask him, he looked more like a dry wine person and wouldn't shut up about his knowledge about it. "I'm more of a fan of sweets, but dry is still good." He's back looking at you. He leans into the table, gesturing to you to also lean in with his index finger. "You're over 21?" He whispers in your ear, you were a little shocked that he didn't know actually, but you didn't know his actual age as well.
You pull away and sit back down. "Yes I'm 21 Mr. Blade, how old are you?" You were more curious than it being a deal breaker for you. You were into an older man anyways. The fact the two of you still didn't know each other's age is a little strange. "I'm 32." He simply says.
Your eyes widen, "You're 32!" You raise your voice ever so much. Quickly you hush yourself before drawing people attention. "Yes." He says again, chuckling at how much you were surprised at that. "You look 26. That's why I was curious why you were so young to be a Professor. And you have to tell me how you look that young." You tell him, the last part you make it a little dramatic. He's intrigued that you thought he was 6 years younger then he actually was, it was very flattering to say the least. But as he thought for a second of what you said, "Hey I'm still young to be a Professor, I'm not old." He places his hand over his chest, pretending to be deeply hurt by your words.
You roll your eyes at him, "That's not what I meant." You scoff at him playfully, "It's an 11 years difference, you don't mind that?" He asks. Slightly concerned that it would weird you out, but that would never be the issue. "I don't care about that Techno." You give him a smile, placing your hands out on the table.
He grabs your hand, his finger dancing on top of yours. The two of you sit and stare at each other. Simply listening to the buzz of the customers in the restaurant. His brown eyes glimpsing with shine, you could sit for hours on end staring at him and every little detail. To how his eyebrows furrow when a spoon inevitably drops on the floor or hearing the clink of glasses in celebration. How he smiles a tad bit more when you rub your thumb across his hand as well.
The smell of divine gourmet meals along with wine and experience liquor fill the air.
His foot distracts you again as you could feel his faux leather shoe slowly going up your leg. You slightly squint at him, questioning what his attentions were, but you don't get an answer just yet. His elbow props up to the table, he inches closer to the table while doing so. Resting his head inside his plan, admiring every second of you.
Going up every so slightly, just by how long his legs were it didn't seem like he was doing anything under the table. Plus the white sheet covered the table almost reaching the floor. Then it is clear on what he was doing when you.
As the tip of his toe cap pressed firmly in-between your thighs.
You rush to close your legs, he gives you a stern look, squeezing your hand. It was a given that he didn't want you to do so. But it was hard for you not to squirm your thighs as he pushed further on your panties.
And of course, your waitress had to come up to the both of you. Handing you and Techno the wine you order, perfect fucken timing. Techno lifts his hand that held his head to grab his drink, you simply put it down on the table. Ready to order your food.
Glaring at Techno to stop his antics, but he could play with you for hours if he pleases. "So what are we going to eat for tonight?" She glances at the both of you, not suspecting anything.
Techno takes a sip of the wine, letting you order first. "Could I get-" You cough out, hiding away a possible moan as he pressed down on your clothed clit. He moves up and down slowly. The waitress lets you cough for another moment, you continue, or try to continue your order. "Y/f/m please?" You ask her, you couldn't help but closing your thighs together. She writes in her notepad and switches to Techno, he quickly orders it with no interruptions.
"Alrightty, I'll be back soon." She quickly walks off.
He lightly wiggles his leg, unlocking your thighs once again. You breathe out a shutter breath. "Techno I was trying to order food." You whisper yell at him, reaching for your wine. He fucken knew you were, but that was the fun of it, watching you stutter out your order to the completely oblivious waitress. "Yes, what's the issue?" He asks, "Don't act coy with me." You take a sip of the wine, not your favorite, but it's not bad.
"You don't like it?" He says, taking a swig of his drink, his eyes look over the cup to you. It was obvious by the way you scrunched up your nose while drinking it. "I like aspects of." You refer to the wine, "Noted." He winks to you. He flicks his foot up, hitting you in the perfect spot. You hold the wine glass with a shaky hand, placing down to ground yourself. You muffle your moan by biting on your bottom lip.
Ever so much you start rocking yourself towards him, a slick smirk curving into his lip. Seeing that you were already giving into him. "You like that, don't you angel" He growls in a low whisper. This new pet name throws you into a loop, your hand bunching up the table cloth to steady yourself. How the word slipped past his lips with such care. Practically making you melt.
Nodding to him, almost scared if you were to open your lips to talk a moan would fly out. "So needy already? We've only been here for-" He shuffles his sleeve with a quick wip, revealing a watch. "Bout' 30 minutes darling." You squeeze his hand.
The Lady comes back once again, this time around Techno finally pulls his leg away from you, missing the sensation.
She hands you your meals, time to dig in.
-----
He paid for the check, both of you hand n' hand walking through the front doors.
Waiting for his car to be pulled up. You lean on his arm. "I would love a tour around your house." You look up at him, innocence glimpsing in your eyes, toying with him. "Really..." He says, thinking of each word you said. Finally looking back down at you. Seeing you pouting your lips. It was crystal clear of what your motive was. In a whisper, lining himself to your ear "Just you fuckin wait till we get home angel." Grinding down his teeth, his low tone inside your ear. It made your legs weak.
But the other reason that made you soft was referring to home. Not to 'his' home. Almost, it felt as if he was talking about our home. Lost in the moment, you didn't even see that his car was ready.
"Let's go." He grabs your hand in a rush making your way to his car.
-----
It was already dark when you made it to his house, which was only 20 minutes away from the campus.
You couldn't really see in the dark, but decided to complement, "Nice house." You say as you step up his walkway. "Thanks darling." He grabs his keys from his pockets, rushing to unlock his front door.
Letting you in with a pull, closing the door with your back as he pushes you up. His lips smashing into you, with a gasp at the sudden movement gave him the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in. You could taste the wine on his tongue.
His hand holding onto your waist, lifting your dress up in the meanwhile. Your fingers locking into his hair, pulling him further down to you.
You start lifting your leg up his pants, hooking yourself to him. Feeling Techno push himself toward you, grinding softly. His finger grip down on your inner thigh, a tingle shooting up your body with excitement. He could tell by how you start to squirm as his hand gradually makes it up to the hem of your dress. Bunching it up, his hand does a long stride down your panties. Feeling the small patch of dampness. Hearing your pathetic whimper.
His finger loops around your panties, pulling them down with a quick swift. "Let's get to my room." He says quietly, slightly out of breath. You simply nod at him. You shake your ankles, letting your panties drop on his hard wooden flooring.
He pulls away, pinching your dress and tugging you through his house. Knocking off his shoes while walking, you follow and do the same. Into his main living room, it's pretty plain with a modern look. We passed his kitchen on the way to his bedroom. "So this is my house." He tries to mumble out in-between kisses. "I don't care." You say it the moment, maybe tomorrow you could take a stroll around, but now you just wanted to get into his bedroom. "Fantastic, neither do I." He chuckles while quickly opening the door.
It was fairly big room, but was fitting for him. His sheets were a stain red color, slightly shining with the moon light that peeked through the windows that lined the wall.
You didn't have enough to look at his whole room nor did you want to in the moment. He pushes you back into the bed, hard. Bouncing slight, you giggle while propping yourself on your elbows. Having your own little show of him starting to undress, taking off his suit coat and unbuttoning his shirt.
Without a doubt you were enjoying this, watching as a tent began to grow in his pants.
Techno comes to the edge of the bed, glaring down at you, hair slightly messed up and makeup already snugged. Leaning down with his hands on the sheets, he hovers over you. Eyes shifting to the dress, that you were still wearing. But that wasn't going to be a problem in a few moments.
His large hands grabbed at your fabric and pulled it off of you, hearing a signature rip while doing so. In slight disbelief that it actually ripped you stare up at him, which he didn't seem to mind. "Hey I paid good money for that." You part your lips, eyebrow furrowed.
Techno on the other hand is climbing on the bed, inches away from your lips. "I'll get you a new dress. I'll buy you 10 fucken dresses if you want." He lowed himself, nesting himself between your legs. Placing small kisses up your neck, sucking over the same spots from yesterday. He wasn't ashamed of giving you those dark bruises that would show everyone how much you wanted him, willing to bruise you up for his own pleasure. The pleasure he would have being able to see you in class with hickeys scattered across your neck. Able to remember back to this. Your hand wanders his shoulders, nails racking down his perfectly carved chest.
He stops for a second, "Okay so, I don't- This is uncomfortable to ask..." You look up at him in confusion. As little as two seconds ago he was just marking you up. "Are you a virgin?" He cringes at his own question, it was awkward to say the least. But he never wants you to feel uncomfortable with anything.
But you put on a crooked smile to try to comfort him, "I've had sex before Techno, I trust you." Kissing him sweetly. The kiss turned more heated by the moment, both craving for each other after all the afternoon makeout sessions in his office, both of you need this badly.
His left hand moving from the bed to your hot body, snaking down past your waist to your inner thighs. But he quickly moved back up to his pants, he rushed to remove his belt.
You were there to assist him, reaching to his pants to unzip them, tugging down at them. At this point his belt is off and on the ground unknown, pulling off his pants on the ground to be found in the early morning along with the trail of your shoes and panties.
His lips leaving yours and trailing back down to your neck. He went over some sport as before each one making you moan. But he went lower, as he arrived in-between your boobs. He placed soft kisses on both sides.
His head shifting down your neck to your collarbone. Still leaving dark circles along the way to your breast. Looking at them with admiration. His lips making their way to one of your nipples, you let out an airy moan as the sensation took over. He slightly bites, pulling up with a spring. Giving your other the same love and attention.
While being distracted, Techno pulls away his boxer, still kissing your nipple. It stung out painfully.
From the angle where you laid on his pillows you could see it throb. He hissed as you wrap your delicate fingers around his cock. Groaning as your thumb swiped over his tip, he stopped his actions and rested his head in-between your breast. Your hand pumping up and down slowly, teasing him. Spreading the pre-cum that dropped out. Running your hand down you feel veins bulging out.
He pulled away your hand. He looks up at you with half lidded eyes, his eyes dark with lust.
Lifting his free hand, he moves it towards your face. His fingers separating past your lips, shoving them in your mouth. You slowly start to suck, but as you lap tongue around them, he pulls them out. A little confused as to why, but that question was about to be answered. He lowers his hand down to your crotch, slipping both his index and middle finger into your cunt with ease, your own saliva as lube.
Cletching your thighs together as you throw your head back into his pillows. Whimpering while bucking your hips up at his hands.
A devilish smirk broadened on his face.
Arching your back up curls his fingers, his other hand holding the small part of your back and being you closer toward him. He moved in and out slow at first, but seeing as you were practically falling apart to just this his began to speed it up.
He held you close, moans flying freely without a care that anyone would walk in. Kissing you with open mouth kisses, whimpering as he continues. "Techno." You moan out, neediness filling your voice, bucking your hips fast at his hand.
"What do you want, baby?" All you could do in that moment was moan as his voice was deep and sweet like candy to your ears. "Tell me what you want, with your words." He peppers light kisses along your neck, making you hum with delight. "Do anything, I want you." You mew, staring up at him. He groans at your word, taking affect, he would never be able to get those words out of his head. "Baby, I'll hold you down and spit in your pretty little mouth if you wanted." Loudly you moan, feeling a familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach.
His thumb toying with your clit in a circular motion. "No, I want you." You emphasize on the "you" part, begging for him. "Anything you want angel." He kisses you once again, short and sweet.
Taking out his fingers, licking them dry from your own wetness. With a slight pop when he's done.
He reaches to the side towards his night stand, stopping him with your hand. "I'm just getting a condom darling-" He tells you, "I'm on birth control." Cutting him off, you were fed up at this point. "Just fuck me." The teasing at the restaurant to now was enough for you, just wanting and needing for him. Pulling him back on top of you, feeling his dick on your thigh.
He pumps himself a couple of times, mentally taking a photo of you in this state.
His tip running up and down your slit, slowly pushing in your cunt. Stretching you out at the same pace. Giving you a few moments to adjust. "Tell me if you need to stop at any point." He peppers kisses on you, trying to distract from the stinging. You've only had sex once, a year ago at a stupid college party where you took a shot to lessen the pain. But Techno was bigger in length and girth.
But pain subsided and pleasure began to take over and conquer. Slightly grinding up at him, telling him to start moving. He did so, slowly pulling almost out and right back in.
Moaning with each meet, your finger digging into his back muscles, leaving red line marks behind. Your legs wrapping around his waist, your heels pushing him further down. One of his hands moves from your waist, running up your body. Making a stop at your breast. Moaning at his play, his had travel to your neck. His hands gripping onto your throat, "God, you feel so good." He groans, slamming his hips with a slap.
Another open mouth kisses muffle you out, Techno swallowing your moans.
His pace quickening within the seconds. There wasn't another way to express or being able to say anything but cursing out, "Fuck." As he continues, but slows down. It wasn't what you where aiming for, but he hands grips harder on your throat. Making it almost impossible for you to make a pep. Half lidded eyes borrow you, he growls, "Watch your mouth." Before slapping your cheek, a stinging sensation distracts you as he begins to flip you over.
Your face laying down on his sheets, your ass hanging high. The bedding smelling of him.
Pulling out he kisses your cheek, slapping each one harshly. His tongue taking a long strip down, licking your clit in the meanwhile. Sucking the ball of nerves, you groan out his name, bunching up his sheets with your hand.
Pushing himself back into your cunt, your face getting shoved down. "Your so fucken tight, I might need you fuck you everyday." Throwing his head back. Whining at the thought of him doing this every morning, afternoon, or night.
The sound of rushed slapping surrounded the bedroom. Along with your high pitched sobs.
He slaps your ass cheek again, leaving a red mark and a sting of pain. Soothing you as he rubs you in the same place. Doing the same to the other cheek, squeezing out a loud moan, a tear sliding down your cheek. Meeting the bed. He keeps at the smacking, each one you retract but inevitably coming back with wanting more of the pain.
Flash raw at the consent spanking, ass red with a printer. Definitely going to be difficult to sit down the next day.
He bends down, pushing himself as deep as he could. Sobbing at it, his finger grab a hold of your neck once again. Trying to moan, but making no sound. He pulls you by the throat, bring you up right. Back flushed up against him. Feeling your ass meet at the base of his cock, pounding rather quickly. It was taking you incredible will power to keep it all together.
Parting your lips, moaning pornographically, like you knew no other words in the dictionary. Lost in ecstasy, putting your head back in-between his shoulder and neck. Your mouth close to his ear. Hearing each little whine and moan
His hand holds onto your stomach, pushing you closer to him. No room for you to do anything else but take his pounding. That warmth building gradually, almost about to bust, slowly falling apart bit by bit.
His pace never stopping, he can tell you were close, how you cunt was squeezing his cock. Cursing out as you see about to cum. Eye rolling back into you head. Your body shaking as the climax takes control of you. Squirming, as you cum around him. Feeling the fluttering of your walls. You scream out his name as you came
He was getting closer to cumming. You huff out, but he wasn't going to let you catch your breath so easily. Feeling your cunt squeezing firmly against him was getting to him.
He holds your hips in desperation, his hand still gripping your throat, your moaning out as the over simulation was starting to hit you.
His dick was beginning to twitch, making him slower his own rhythm. He groans as he was about to cum. His sperm shooting out, covering your walls. "Holy fuck..." Your trying to catch your breath, the heavy air filled with the smell of sex.
Letting go you, you fall forward with a twist to your back. Landing with a huff and a bounce on his pillows, slight sweat covers the sheets.
As you lay, he kneels, watching his cum dripping out your pussy and down your thigh to down your ass.
"You know, you last longer than most guys my age." You say breathing heavily "Really?" He seemed surprised by what you said, still out of breath you could hear his heavy breathing. Heart beating through your chest. "I bet you could last another round too." You face him, he did the same. How you said it was simple, like it didn't want to make him grab you by the throat again. "Really?" A smirk growing on his face just of the thoughts of what he could do to you.
Taglist:
@alexandrium @aplaintart @sadassflatass @sugarcoated44 @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @sammyxn @bbnoloves @l-O-ser @elly-isabella @fudrudy
#mcyt#mcyt fic#mcyt fanfiction#technoblade#technoblade x reader#technoblade x reader smut#professor technoblade x reader#professor technoblade x reader smut#professor technoblade#x reader#x reader smut#professor#techno#techno x reader
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my patient’s neighbour [three] // wanda maximoff
summary: your relationship with Wanda gets a little bumpy when her work life crosses over with your personal life.
warning/s: implied kidnapping, mentions of anxiety
author's note: so the ‘i love you’ confession was actually inspired by an incorrect quote on @aquamarinescarlet’s page! i thought it would be cute aha
part one | part two | part four | part five | part six | part seven | masterlist | wattpad
It was two months into our relationship when I knew I'd fallen in love with Wanda. I can't remember the exact moment when it hit me – I guess it had happened gradually over time – but I remember the embarrassing moment when I told her.
She'd brought me as her date to an Avengers party thrown by Tony Stark. I'd been to one of them before, about a month into dating her, as she'd wanted me to meet her friends from work AKA the freakin' Avengers. They were actually really great and (somewhat) humble people. I didn't expect to become 'friends' with any of them, more just be friendly whenever I saw them through Wanda. To my surprise, I became quite good friends with Natasha Romanoff.
We had the same dark sense of humour, both had an unexplainable obsession with horror films and she was genuinely just really easy to talk to. I wasn't expecting it, but it was nice to gain a new friend in addition to a new girlfriend.
So, I was at my second Avengers party with Wanda by my side, but the party had ended about half an hour ago and I may or may not have been drunk.
We were sat on the couch, conversing with the other Avengers, and I was sat between Wanda and Natasha. The others were involved in their own conversations and I was too dazed to realise what I was doing until it happened.
"Wanda has no idea I'm in love with her," I said (not-so) quietly, leaning over to my left, into Wanda's ear unknowingly.
Wanda, who was playing with my fingers in her hand, paused and glanced to me with bright eyes, a surprised expression on her face.
"You're in love with me?" she asked, lips twitching into a smile.
I blinked, her words settling in, before I licked my lips. "Oh, sorry." Turning to my right, I moved to Natasha's ear, whispering loudly, "Wanda has no idea I'm in love with her."
Natasha glanced to me with a quirked brow, amused smile on her lips. "She doesn't? You sure about that?"
"You're in love with me?" Wanda repeated, sitting forward and earning my attention.
I gasped, wondering how she knew, before slapping Natasha's arm and looking to her with a frown. "You told her?! I trusted you!"
Natasha ignored me, instead looking to Wanda with an encouraging look. "I'll leave this one to you. Good luck."
She stood up, heading over to Thor and Bruce Banner on the other couch, and I booed her as she left.
"Yeah, run away, you secret-give-away'er!" I called after her with a pout, before crossing my arms.
"I think it's time I take you home," Wanda said decidedly, trying not to laugh as she pulled me up off the couch.
"I don't like Natasha anymore," I mumbled, allowing Wanda to take me away.
She bid her goodbyes to her teammates before leading me to the lift. I don't really remember what else happened until we were suddenly at my house – well, my parents house, but they had given it to me as they travelled the world with their retirement money. She was leading me inside and to my bedroom, getting me dressed like the sweet girlfriend she was, before tucking me into bed.
Of course, being the clingy drunk I was, I pulled her on top of me and didn't let go as I wrapped my arms around her.
"Stay," I mumbled into her shoulder, closing my eyes.
She chuckled, trying to pull away. "Y/N, you need to sleep, c'mon."
"I will," I whined, not letting her leave. "If you stay with me."
She paused, before giving in with a sigh. "Fine."
Tiredly, I smiled. "Yesssss." I patted the spot next to me. "Right here, please."
In the light of my bedside lamp, I saw her roll her eyes playfully, before turning off the lamp and jumping under the covers with me. I sighed with relief, cuddling into her side without hesitating.
"I love you," I mumbled, barely thinking about it.
She tightened her embrace and I felt her kiss the top of my head. "You're probably gonna forget you said that in the morning. But I'll remind you. And if you still think it, then I'll reply."
Her words went into one ear and out the other. I hummed in response, not knowing what I was answering to, and let myself get lost in her scent as I drifted into a peaceful slumber.
When I woke up the next morning, I quite liked the idea of sharing bed with Wanda and waking up to her dishevelled hair and our intertwined legs, even though I didn't remember inviting her to stay. Of course, I also had a banging headache and felt like someone had hit me with a train, so I didn't get chance to appreciate it much.
"Fuck," I mumbled, pulling the duvet over my head to block out the sun streaming through the slit in my curtain.
Wanda, who was shuffling beside me, yawned and stretched her arms. Suddenly, I heard quiet laughter, before she spooned me, wrapping her arms around my stomach and pulling me closer. Her leg raised and clung to my waist, and as much as I appreciated the way she fit perfectly against me, I was still in pain.
"Why did you let me drink that much?" I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut.
"I believe that was your own conscience decision, dorogoy (darling)," she said in that know-it-all voice of hers, and it was hard for me to be annoyed at her because she had a raspy, morning voice and her accent was especially thick with fatigue and damn, Wanda Maximoff was pretty sexy in the morning.
"Whatever," was all I said, but I placed my hand on hers and joint our fingers together.
"You know," she started, tucking her head comfortably into my neck, "I quite like waking up to you like this. You're very cute, even if you're cranky."
Despite aforementioned crankiness, I cracked a smile. "I like this, too."
It was very domestic, something I didn't get the privilege of experiencing with Wanda because she worked a lot, and it felt good.
After hanging around in bed for a little while longer, I got up and showered whilst Wanda offered to make me some breakfast – "Pancakes are a hangover's cure! Or at least according to Tony". After getting ready, I came downstairs to find a stack of pancakes and maple syrup waiting for me.
"You are a Godsend," I told her, pressing a haste kiss to her lips before sitting at the table with the pancakes. "Thank you."
She chuckled, grabbing her own pancakes and sitting opposite me. "Anything for you."
After I dug in, complimenting her on how delicious they tasted, a comfortable silence fell between us. Well, until Wanda spoke up cautiously.
"So, does anything from last night ring a bell?" she asked, making me look up to see her staring eagerly.
My content expression fell. "Shoot, did I do something embarrassing?" I facepalmed. "God, what was it? Did I fall asleep on somebody?"
She smiled with adoration, eyes twinkling in the morning sun. "No, nothing like that."
I could tell there was something though, judging from her hesitant expression. I scrunched my face with regret.
"What did I do?" I asked, unprepared to hear it. "Did I say something to you?"
She played with her fork, twisting it around in her plate nervously, which was very unlike her. "Yeah, actually, you did."
I waited, feeling like the silence was deafening the longer she stayed quiet.
"You said you were in love with me," she said, voice so soft and quiet that I barely heard it.
I felt my heart drop to my stomach. "I what?"
"I mean, technically you said I had no idea you were in love with me, but I think you were supposed to tell Nat that," she continued, eyes avoiding mine. "Then you told Nat and you got mad at her because you thought she told me."
I facepalmed for the second time that morning. "Oh, God..."
"Then you invited me to stay the night and told me you loved me before you fell asleep," she finished rambling. "I just, er, wanted to check if you meant that..."
I raised my eyebrows with disbelief. "Are you kidding?" I reached over the table to grab her hand. "Wanda, of course I meant that! But I hoped to tell you at a better time than by accident whilst I was drunk."
Blue eyes flickered to mine, excitement creeping onto her face. "You meant it."
I breathed out, realising what exactly I'd just said. "I– yeah. I meant it. I'm in love with you, Wanda."
Her smile widened. "I'm in love with you, too."
My heart fluttered in my chest as I relaxed my shoulders. "You love me."
She giggled, squeezing my hand. "We just did this."
"Right! We did," I said, shaking my head, grin forming on my lips. "Sorry. I'm just so happy right now."
"Me, too," she said in agreement, thumb stroking the top of my hand.
I didn't think things could go wrong from here. I was on top of the world! But of course, the world had a funny way of ruining things.
—
Dating a superhero had its pros and cons, I suppose, but neither really showed themselves to me often as it was as if Wanda's superhero life was separate to the one we shared. When she and I were together, it was just us. And she would leave for work and I wouldn't think about it. Then she would return and it would be us again.
If I took a moment out of my day to stop and really think about where she was, what she could be doing, the danger she could be in... I just couldn't do it. Even when she would show up to our next date with a fresh bruise from training, or a broken bone from a mission gone too far, I'd worry about it for the time being then try to let it go. Those weren't superhero perks, those were reasons to be concerned. And I couldn't handle imagining the time when she'd come back to me in a worse state, or to not even come back at all.
So, her superhero life rarely overlapped with our shared one. And I was happier that way. Until it did.
I was running errands one day, little things that required me to run around the city – dry cleaning, grocery shopping, picking up some DIY stuff for my house. It was a pretty relaxing, fun day. I'd treated myself to lunch, was soaking in the sunshine and planning to unwind with some Netflix on the couch.
"Hold on, I need to unlock the front door," I mumbled into the phone. I was talking to Wanda, catching her up with my day as I returned home.
"Try not to drop your phone this time," she teased from the other end, and I could just imagine the smirk on her face.
"So funny," I said with an eye roll. "Real comedian."
She laughed as I placed my phone in my pocket, not quite hanging up. Pulling my keys from my shopping bag, I fiddled with them, attempting to find the key for my front door.
Suddenly, something metal and cold pressed to my back and I jumped, dropping my keys with surprise.
"Don't draw attention," the person said, and I went rigid, looking up to see a reflection of someone unrecognisable in the glass of my front door. "You're going to leave your things here and come with me."
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to turn around, but the object pressed harder into my back, making me wince.
"Leave your fucking things here and give me your hand," the man ordered, ignoring my question. "Phone included. And don't even think about making a call."
I swallowed hard, panic settling in as I listened to the threatening stranger. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I realised that the stranger had no idea I was already on a call. With an Avenger nonetheless.
"I'll put it down," I narrated my actions, soon coming to realise that the object behind my back was in fact the barrel of a gun.
Hoping Wanda was still listening in and could hear the exchange, I put my phone on the ground and placed my shaking hand in the man's outstretched one. He tucked his gun back into the waistband of his jeans before tugging me down the steps and to a black van parked opposite my house.
Too paralysed with fear at the sight of two more strange men getting out the van, I felt my throat go dry and words get stuck at the bottom. Looking around, I hoped to find a neighbour's eyes or dog-walker's lost gaze, but nobody was here. Whoever these men were had timed their entrance perfectly.
When we reached the van, the back doors were opened and the man spun me around roughly before placing a bag on my head and shoving me inside. Hot tears ran down my face as I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering what the hell was happening and who these people were. But mostly, I hoped Wanda was already on her way.
—
The whole incident was over soon. That's what we were calling it now. The 'incident'. Of course, it could have been called other things... the kidnapping, the abduction, the capture. But we settled with the 'incident'. It was less explicit, as if minimising how utterly terrifying the whole experience was.
I never did find out who those men were. Wanda offered to tell me, feeling a need to explain herself and blame herself and drag herself down in the dirt to make me feel better, to bring me out of my silence and give me something to feel good about. I recalled her mentioning they were after her, getting to her through me – her girlfriend.
She rescued me quite quickly. Being tied up and locked away and left to cry like a child, wondering if I was going to die any minute at the hands of captors whom I had never met nor done anything to in my life, wasn't fun. People always wonder what they would do in those situations; maybe they would square up and put up a fight; maybe they would scream and shout and get everyone's attention; maybe they'd even retort with sarky remarks and go out with a blaze of glory.
I never imagined what that would be like, but I discovered I could do neither of those things. I just let them take me, let them threaten me and point their guns at me and tie me up and lock me away and–
I let myself cry and feel terrified and shake and lose my words and imagine the worst. Some would call that giving in, but this wasn't something you could prepare for. Surely my response was justified? I wasn't sure. I just knew that when Wanda burst onto the scene, taking out the men with ease and taking me out of there, taking me home, I was momentarily safe.
But then as she began to ramble off her explanations and apologies and regrets, I found myself turning in on myself, unable to hear her out. I didn't blame her one bit, but I also couldn't listen to one more second. So, I tuned her out.
I sat on the couch, staring at the way the thread was coming loose on one of my cushions. I thought about how quickly the whole 'incident' had happened. How one minute I was sat in a cell and now I was sat on my couch. How I was then shaking with fear and now I felt nothing.
"...you listening? Hey, are you okay?"
I only tuned back in when she sat on the cushion I was looking at. Her fingers rested on my cheek, guiding my head upwards so I was looking her in the eyes, glassy and red and swollen from crying. I probably looked the same, though I was all out of tears.
"I promise you nobody will be back here," she said with certainty, thumb stroking my cheek. "There's S.H.I.E.L.D. agents posted all along the street. And I'm happy to stay here if you need me to. You're safe now."
I knew I was. And despite my calm exterior, my heart was still racing in my chest, adrenaline still pumping through my body as if expecting to make a sudden break for it.
"What are you thinking?" she muttered, eyes flicking between mine curiously. "Talk to me. Please."
I shook my head, looking away. "I'm okay."
"It's okay not to be," she said quietly, squeezing my hand.
"I know."
So, we kept that bit up for a few more days, maybe a week. Me pretending I was okay, though still distant from Wanda as if she'd caught the plague, and her pretending she knew I was telling the truth.
But I knew she sensed the nightmares I had, waking me up in cold sweats. I knew she saw the way I tensed when a shadow cast along the wall from a moving object. Or the way I never faced the front door when unlocking it to get inside.
I guess she couldn't take it anymore at some point, possibly a week or two later, as when I was mixing my soup in a bowl after heating it up in the microwave, she sighed loudly.
"You okay?" I asked, glancing up at her. She was stood by the counter, seeming tired.
She'd been staying with me since the incident happened, obviously, and it was nice having her around so much, despite the circumstances. But I knew she was worried and had been keeping it in. I just didn't have the energy to acknowledge it.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, though her fingers still drummed on the countertop.
I let it go, shrugging, before paying attention to my soup. Her impatience was obnoxiously loud, filling the house with a discomfort she was dying to express. Eventually, she did.
"I'm not fine," she decided, and I stopped stirring my soup as I looked to her tugging on her sleeves distractedly. "I'm not fine because you're not fine."
"I've told you I am," I said monotonously, eyes boring into hers.
"I know you're not," she said, crossing her arms and hugging herself. "I've noticed you and..."
I quirked a brow. "And?"
She frowned, eyes softening with empathy. "Don't make me say it, Y/N."
I pressed my tongue to the back of my teeth as I looked down to my steaming soup.
"Talk to me," she pleaded, rounding the counter and leaning beside me, searching for my eyes. "I just want to help."
I swallowed hard. "I have nothing to say, Wanda."
"A really scary thing happened," she began hesitantly. "The fact that you don't have anything to say– that you've not said anything, isn't right."
"Well, I guess there's something wrong with me," I said dismissively, before grabbing the pepper grinder before me and using it.
"No, there's not," she reassured, not giving up. "You just need to talk.”
I set the grinder down, turning to face her abruptly. She straightened up with surprise, taking a small step back.
"What do you want me to say?" I asked, voice calm but full of unintentional malice. "Huh? What do you want me to tell you? That I'm terrified somebody is watching my house, waiting for a quiet moment to break in? That I have to follow you into every room you go in because I don't want to be left alone? That I can't fucking sleep because I'm scared that when I close my eyes, I'll be locked in a nightmare I can't escape? Is that what you want me to tell you? Does that make you feel better, Wanda? Because it doesn't make me feel any better. It just reminds me how fucking terrified I am."
I pocketed my shaking hands, blinked away the tears that threatened to fall, swallowed down the lump rising in my throat. She watched me, unsure what to say at first and I didn't blame her. It was an outburst waiting to happen.
"I'm–"
"Don't say you're sorry," I snapped, before flinching at my tone. "I know you're sorry. And I don't blame you for what happened. I just– I don't know what to do anymore."
Her eyes were studying me like green lasers burning holes into my skin and I hated that I couldn't meet them. I hated even more that I couldn't leave the kitchen out of anger or frustration because I was too scared to be left alone without her by my side.
So, I leaned against the counter, turning away from her, and let out a shaky breath, eyes burning and heart thumping in my ears. Her arms suddenly wrapped around me without question, and I let her take me into her chest, squeezing me so tight so I knew she was there.
Closing my eyes, I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, but no sound came out. I struggled to breathe, unable to take in air through my nose as I stuffed my head so hard into her shirt that I couldn't see a thing except darkness. I knew I'd eventually be okay, that I'd eventually get back to some sense of normalcy. But for now, having her here with me was okay. And I found it much better to just be with her then have to go over and talk it out.
She was warm and strong and smelt like home and God, I loved her. I was lucky to have her.
—
It took about a month and a half to get over the incident. And after that, we never brought it up again. It was just easier that way. We continued on like usual, falling back into our old routine of having a separate us and her separate superhero life.
At some point, I thought it would be nice for her to meet my parents. They were back in town for the week, wanting to check in and see how I was. It was nice having them around and I was excited for them to meet Wanda, who I'd mentioned in some of our Skype calls.
"We don't have to make it a thing," I said as I proposed the idea. We were cleaning around Anna's apartment as she napped in her bedroom. "It's not like an 'oh, meet the parents' thing. They just happen to be in town and we're having a dinner, so I thought you might want to come. If you don't, it's not a big deal. I haven't told them to expect you. Not unless you say yes. Which you don't have to."
She chuckled, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Dorogoy (darling), calm down. Breathe."
I neatened the cushions on the couch with a bit too much force. "Am I not breathing? I'm pretty sure I'm breathing."
Her hands slipped into mine as she spun me around to face her. An amused smile on her lips, she said, "You need to relax. If you're like this now, then who knows what you'll be like on the night of the dinner?"
It took me a second to realise what she'd said and when I did, my eyes widened. "Wait, the night of the– does that mean you're going?"
She laughed, tugging me closer to her. "Yes, I'm going. I'd love to meet your parents!"
My shoulders relaxed as her fingers played with mine mindlessly. A smile appeared on my lips as I said, "Thank you. I– it'll be fun. No pressure. Just a dinner."
"Just a dinner," she confirmed, before kissing my forehead gently. "Can't wait."
And so on the day before my parents left for Scotland, yet another trip on their never ending retirement travels, I waited for Wanda to pick me up so we could go to a restaurant to meet my parents, who were already there after spending the day shopping in town.
She arrived at the door with a beautiful smile and bright eyes, looking me up and down.
"Just on time," I teased, tilting my head to the side, before being serious. "You look amazing tonight, Wanda."
"As do you, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said sweetly, leaning forward to kiss my cheek, before stepping inside. "Also, these are for you."
She removed her hand from behind her back as I closed the door, revealing a gorgeous, colourful bouquet of flowers.
"I saw them and thought of you," she began to explain without even realising how cute she was; a smile crept on my lips as she continued, "but then I realised I've never gotten you flowers before which is very dumb of me because a pretty girl deserves pretty flowers, right?"
There was no doubt that my face was heating up from the attention, flustered yet honoured at her words.
"Wanda, I love them," I said, accepting the flowers and meeting her gaze. "And to be fair, nobody has ever gotten me flowers before."
"You're kidding," she said with disbelief, stepping forward and wrapping her arms loosely around my waist. Reading my serious expression, she added, "Not even for your birthday? Or a celebration?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
She gave me a knowing look. "Well, that's very unfortunate. But I'm glad I could be the first."
I held her gaze, amusement dancing in her smile. Mirroring her expression, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose, making her scrunch it up delightfully.
"Me, too," I said, and I meant it.
"Come on, we should get going," she said, squeezing my waist before letting go. "Don't want to be late, do we?"
"We do not," I agreed, before putting the flowers in a vase of water and leaving them by the door.
"You ready?" she asked, holding open the front door.
I intertwined our hands and met her smile with my own. "I'm ready."
Taking the girlfriend to meet the parents. What could go wrong?
#wanda maximoff x you#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff imagine#wanda maximoff x reader#scarlet witch#elizabeth olsen imagine#elizabeth olsen#marvel imagine#mcu imagine#marvel#mcu
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Spotlight ↬ t.h
A/N: This whore made me write this okay? shh you didn’t see me write this 🤡 Lord save me what have I written 😪😪💀
WC: 1.4k+
Warnings: smut. minors dni
Pairing: tom holland x photographer!reader (basically the plot lmao)
Masterlist || Taglist
“Is it just me, or are these pants super tight?” Tom grunted, pulling the tight dress pants in question to fit over his thighs. Wiggling his toes, he tried not to groan at the numbness in his limbs the uncomfortable pants brought, hoping the photoshoot wouldn’t take long.
He really wasn’t in the mood for a photoshoot this late at night, especially after a long day of continuous online press. The things he did for his fans. He just hoped that the new photographer wouldn’t be a rookie, he would feel terrible if he snapped at them for doing their job. Not that he would ever, his anger management was going well.
“I don’t know man, ask your stylist.” One of the dressers said. Tom didn’t know what his name was, there were too many people to keep track of names. And then there was the makeup artist, who decided that he needed makeup that very moment, brushing his nose with powder with a fluffy brush. Trying hard not to rip his pants, he sneezed three times in succession.
“Bless you.” The makeup lady chuckled, dusting more on his cheekbones before going to the rest of his face. Trying to deflect her, he moved around a little, earning a chuckle from the others.
“I think I’m already pretty without makeup, thank you very much.” Tom joked, rolling his sore neck, curling his toes once again as they cracked satisfactorily, sighing in relief that the darn fitting was finally done.
“You are pretty but the camera needs a little highlight to show your cheekbones off.” she retorted.
Scoffing, he looked around, eyes landing on the multiple flashlights in front of the green screen, and another person. Furrowing his brows, he shrugged, maybe that was the new photographer.
“Who’s that woman?” He asked anyway, sneaking a glance at You. He could only see your back, but he could see your hair tied up in a bun, baggy olive pants and a plaid shirt loosely hanging off your waist. He felt jealous looking at your comfortable clothing, pushing down the feeling with a huff. You were a stranger, and he would be home soon anyway.
“That’s the new photographer, she’s an intern but quite good at what she does. We saw her portfolio and immediately hired her.”
“That’s great.” He muttered absentmindedly tracing his eyes over your form. He found himself unable to stop the blush creeping up his cheeks when you turned around, a smile on your lips when you saw him eyeing you. It wasn’t often that somebody caught his eye.
“She’s off-limits.” The older woman muttered, smirking when he huffed.
“It wasn’t like I was going to do anything.” he said defensively, yet unable to take his eyes off you.
“Of course you weren’t.”
No he wasn’t. At first he wasn’t, but his stupid tight fucking pants were making him uncomfortable, twisting the rings in his fingers to stop the anxiety blooming in his chest. His eyes followed you again as he sat at the ground, watching you as you adjust the settings of your camera.
"Y/n, right?" Tom asked, as you nodded bashfully.
“Ready?” You smiled. Giving you a thumbs up, he posed in multiple positions, his eyes following your hands as they held the lens of the camera. You tried not to pay much attention to the man in front of you.
You had come here strictly to click photographs, not hook up with a celebrity who was decidedly the most attractive person in this room. You felt your breath hitch as he spread his legs, casually sprawling his hands between his thighs, right on top of his crotch. The rings on his fingers and the highlights of his makeup visibly shone against the bright lights. Clearing your throat, you lowered the camera from your face.
“Can you- can you turn a little bit? To your right?” You stuttered, indicating the new position, bunching up the hem of his grey dress pants as he shifted.
“This is better?” He asked, looking up with a smirk. He definitely knew what he was doing, and judging by his smug expression, which you decided to capture before it vanished, he knew how it was affecting you too.
The overall shoot was exhausting, with the constant wardrobe change and time limit. But the entire time, you couldn't help but be intrigued by the British actor in front of you.
His wardrobe definitely defined his muscles, the lights working wonders as they created shadows in just the right places.
“Can I see the photos?” He asked, coming to stand behind you once the rest of the crew disappeared to pack everything up. Your breath hitched again, the closer he came, the faster your heart beat.
“Th-they need to be edited.” You stuttered, switchin on your camera anyway. Without turning, you held the instrument in your hand, lifting your elbows as he came closer, his mouth nearly on your neck. You were both thankful for the empty dressing room.
“I bet they look good, they came from a sweet thing like you.” He whispered, bringing his hands closer to your waist, teasing you as his fingers traced non existent circles on the small of your skin visible from the hitched t-shirt. The air around you grew thicker, it was getting harder to breath with every passing minute as he ran his cold fingers burning your skin, the cool of his rings a foreign touch.
You’ve had a one night stand or two before, but they were usually men from random dive bars. Not a celebrity, who had taken interest in you surprisingly fast. Your gut twisted at the thought of doing him, the heat of the spotlight suddenly burning your skin. Was this going to be a one night thing too? You didn’t know. You didn’t care. You weren’t going to admit it, but you were a fan of Tom Holland. You had seen his interviews of him for Cherry, but somehow, the Tom Holland standing behind you was a complete 360 of the Tom you saw in the interviews.
“They look good because they have you.” You said, squirming at the funny feeling of his lips on your neck, sucking on the nape. Fuck professionalism, no one was there to catch you, the lights of the studio having been switched off because of it nearing it’s closing time. You had a trailer of your own, but you were too lost in his lips to care.
Twisting around, you jumped up as he caught you with ease, crashing your lips with his with a hunger that surprised you, arms grasping his shoulders as you dug your nails into his clothed shoulder.
Panting as you parted, you took off your clothes, the cold air hitting you as your body got used to the sudden temperature change. He watched in awe as they fell one by one, first your pants, then your shirt, leaving you in your sports bra and panties. His hard on was very visible from his pants, as he reached to unveil himself alongside you.
“Don’t you think this is a little unprofessional? We literally just met.” You spoke, walking closer to him, holding his cheeks in your palm. Biting your lips, you ran your hands on his now bare chest, feeling the hard skin of his nipples, his defined pectorals. Yeah, you really didn’t give a fuck about professionalism, you were about to fuck Thomas fucking Holland, maybe teach him a lesson after he left you all hot and bothered during the photoshoot.
“It’s unprofessional only if you want it to be darling.” He groaned, pulling you closer to his, your chests smacking against each other as he grasped your head, kissing you, the pace increasing as he picked you up by your waist, slamming you against the door of the studio.
You never knew a touch could mean so much, lost in your high of his lips against yours, his skin against yours feeling like fire and ice at the same time.
“Say the magic word babygirl, and I’ll stop.” He said, grunting as you dug your fingers in his back, your head spinning at the euphoria his voice brought you.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to say anything with your dick against me.” You said, stopping for a moment as he looked at you open mouthed. A moment passed and his laughter rang in the studio, your own mixed with his.
This was gonna be the longest night of yours.
A/N: SO THAT HAPPENED HAHA BYE IMMA GO INTO HIDING
#This isn't showing up on tags fml 😭😭😭#imma still try anyway#tom holland smut#tom holland x reader smut#tom holland#tom holland x you#tom holland x actress!reader#spideygirl writes
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Slumbering Hearts (Alcina Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village
Rating: T for language/brief nudity
Warnings: None
Summary: In a wicked twist of fate, you find out your soulmate is none other than your employer, Lady Dimitrescu. To your misery, she (at first) seems equally displeased, her heart already belonging to another. But in time, the two of you find yourselves wondering... could the universe be right, after all? Soulmate AU in which every person has a unique "soul mark", which they share with their soulmate.
Notes: Reader is gender neutral, but at some points will be described as leaning towards being feminine (due to personal interpretation of Alcina's character). Additionally, Lady D will eventually be referred to by her first name, so don't worry if you feel weird about her being called by her full title all the time, it's just for this chap, when the reader isn't familiar with her. Lastly, this contains a bit of one sided Alcina/Miranda, which serves as a plot point, but is (clearly) not the primary ship.
1: In The Shadow Of Giants
Three months, two weeks, and one day. That’s how long you’ve been at this accursed castle, serving cruel mistresses, having been plucked from your peaceful life in the village. Anger stains your every thought, slowly festering inside your chest. There is no cure, at least not without a fatal price, but there are mild remedies. ‘Tis not long before the other servants learn to give you the more physically demanding chores. Nothing numbs your mind quite the same way that chopping firewood does, though you often settle for hard scrubbing age-old tile. Every day ends with your muscles crying from the effort of it all. Every day… except today. Another servant, from the night shift, has been wounded severely, and her job was deemed too important to be foregone.
And, as such, she has been replaced. By you. For once, you turn in early, long before your clothes can become stained with sweat. Yet you aren’t happy, not when you know that this change will ruin your sleep for weeks to come. Even worse, it’ll be impossible to avoid your ‘employers’, whereas working the day shift meant almost never seeing them. So far, you have only seen them on four or five occasions. Hell, you’ve only met two of them, being Cassandra and Bela. Based on what others told you, the other two weren’t much (if at all) better. As you try your best to get some rest, only a single ‘positive’ thought runs through your head: Well, worst comes to worst, I’ll get killed, then I won’t have to worry about anything anymore.
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“Remember: No talking unless you’re asked a question. The Mistress has had a rough morning, and this is her best chance at relaxing,” Juniper explains, for what seems like the eighth time since the two of you met. There’s a nervous energy around her, which does little to ease your own anxieties. If you heard correctly, she’s only been at the castle for a couple weeks, having previously worked for Mother Miranda. You’re not sure what would have caused the transfer, considering most who were ‘fired’ ended up dead. Something told you that it had to do with antsy nature. “Oh, and don’t leave unless dismissed, even once your part is done. We all need to be ready, in case Mistress- I mean, Lady Dimitrescu needs something. Sorry, I’m still getting used to how things work here.”
“As long as you don’t slip up in front of her and get us both killed, I don’t really care,” you replied, giving Juniper a level stare. Clearly unsure how to respond, she pauses for a moment, mouth opening then closing without a sound. Once she’s seemingly composed herself, you give a short nod and push open the door to the bathroom. Two other servants are already inside, and they flinch at your arrival, briefly mistaking you for their boss. “I can hardly believe they made me change shifts for this,” you add, under your breath, rolling your eyes. What was so important about making sure a few candles stayed lit? During bathtime? Maybe it was something you had to be a giant, vampiric noblewoman to understand. Regardless of your annoyance, you quickly get to work, striking the first of a couple matches. It’s a rather dull task. To think you would have preferred heavy labor to this.
Before long, the last flame springs to life, and Juniper dims the lights, allowing the candles to become the focus. At least one is scented, though you cannot place the specific kind. Less than a minute after the last one is lit, the door once again swings open, revealing your most elusive employer. She’s… more than you anticipated. In every conceivable way, truthfully. Taller, more graceful (even as she has to duck through the entrance), and, as much as you hate to think so, far, far more beautiful. If not for the warm lighting of the room, you would have worried about someone seeing your blush. Certainly I am not the first to react this way, you think, as you bow alongside the others.
“Yes, yes, get on with it,” Lady Dimitrescu says, with a sharp frown. Then she moves closer to the tub, which you imagine could fit half a dozen ‘normal’ people, and holds out her arms to her side. For a moment you’re confused, but you instinctively mimic the motions of the other maidens. Together the four of you reach for her robe, gently taking hold of it while she steps into the bath, before hanging it onto a nearby hook. A second later your entire world is turned upside down. You’re freezing in place, eyes wide, as the bare back of Lady Dimitrescu reveals itself to you. Yet this is not an instance of poorly veiled lust. No, it is equal parts horror and repulsion, for you find yourself staring at a distinctive soul marking.
One that matches your own.
Beside you, Juniper watches you with concern, silently urging you to stay silent. Neither of the other two servants seem to react, other than by taking a small step backwards. Unable to speak, let alone form coherent thoughts, all you can do is point a trembling finger towards the soul mark. It’s right in between Lady Dimitrescu’s shoulder blades. Once upon a time, you had marveled at the design, smiling every time you saw it in the mirror. Now, it might as well be the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen. Based on her expression, Juniper seems to agree, although for different reasons. As your hand drops back to your side, you try to compose yourself enough to focus on the task before you. Instead, someone breaks the quiet, boldly, daring to think that they would be rewarded for it.
“My Lady,” a servant says, stepping forward, shooting you a waywards glance. Instantly she has your employer’s attention, though that comes with the metallic sssssslk of her claws extending. There’s an unspoken threat that demands respect. None comes, however, just the frenzied words of a panicked maiden. “I know who your soulmate is, my Lady. I thought that perhaps you’d-”
“A name. Give me… a name,” Lady Dimitrescu interjects, claws still out and impatiently tapping on the tile floor. Tense, you start to step forward, wanting desperately to silence the treacherous maiden. But her tongue is faster than your fist, and soon enough your name is echoing through the room. “Oh? The one right behind me, hmm? Dreadfully convenient, really. Step forward, dear, and let me see the proof. Assuming it exists.” All eyes other than hers are on you, now. With a deep breath, you begrudgingly step in front of Lady Dimitrescu, trying not to even briefly glance at her chest (or worse, lower). One of her hands shifts, a long claw tilting your chin up. “Well?”
“Forgive the placement,” you mutter, awkwardly grabbing your shirt collar, tugging it down to reveal your soul mark, planted neatly on the center of your chest. If Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze wanders, it does so too quickly to be noticed, though she does make a low humming noise at the sight. Feeling much like a piece of meat on display at the butcher’s, you scowl deeply. Soon enough, but not as soon as you’d like, the claw under your chin retracts, and you once more cover up your soul mark. You can’t bring yourself to look your soulmate in the eyes.
“Hmm. Not what I expected. Not at all,” she muses, more to herself than to you, softly. Behind her, Juniper is sending you a sympathetic expression. All you can do, as Lady Dimitrescu judges you, is glare at the origin of this revelation. What did she think to gain by speaking up? Hadn’t she heard the same rumors that you had? Didn’t she know that your employer already loved another, even if that affection was unrequited? There was, simply put, no chance that you were the preferable option. Not when there was no race against neither time nor death. At best, you could be a distraction. Something to keep her mind off of the person she’d rather be with. “Go clean up, get some sustenance if you must, then go to my quarters. We will discuss this further there- after I am done here.”
With that said, she waves you off, letting you relax for the first time in several minutes. After giving a short bow, you immediately move to leave. On your way, you intentionally bump shoulders with the maiden who spoke up, sending her a glare, then give Juniper a nod of acknowledgement. Nervous wreck or not, she was the only person you ‘knew’ on the night shift. Not that such a thing would even matter soon. To think that we’ve been soulmates this whole time, you think, living in the same castle for months, never seeing each other. I wish things could have stayed that way. At least you’d have some time to process your developing situation. Though you doubted you’d have enough time.
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In an unusual change of pace, Alcina dismisses the rest of her servants, long before her bath is done. They exchange glances before scattering to the winds. A heavy sigh leaves her lips, and she sinks lower into the tub. Of course I have a soulmate, she thinks, bitterly. I knew this. Knew that it wasn’t her, and yet still, I find myself surprised. Disappointed, even. How had an already rough evening gotten even worse? More than that, what was she supposed to do about it? There was a part of her that wanted to kill her soulmate. She figured that, with them out of the way, the universe might finally understand who she was meant to be with. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for ‘widows’ to be given a new match, and those were generally other ‘widows’. Considering that Alcina knew for a fact that Mother Miranda’s soulmate had long since died, she did not think that her hopes were beyond possibility.
But there was another part of her, quieter, that dared to be more realistic. If the universe said that this human, this tiny thing, was her soulmate… would it not make sense to at least try? What harm could it do, when her current love had been unrequited for so long? Was this not the end to several decades of loneliness? Damn it, she thinks, gripping the edge of the bathtub until her knuckles turned white. There was no denying it, now that a single drop of rational thought had corrupted her mind. Fuck it all, I hardly have a choice. Or anything to lose, for that matter. With her decision made, she rises to her feet, emotionally ready to face the unknown.
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“Ah, so you do follow directions, after all. I half expected to learn that you had attempted to flee, or perhaps had a gruesome run in with one of my daughters,” Lady Dimitrescu chimes, as she ducks into her room. Inside, standing at attention, you await. All of your earlier nervousness returns, though this time it is tinged with your natural rage. Of all the monsters in the world, this was the one you were expected to love. It mattered not how tall she was, or how sharp her nails could be, or how fierce her loyalty to Mother Miranda. To you, it mattered that you had no choice in being here, that only a handful of servants had come to the castle willingly. It mattered that a single mistake could mean a cruel death. So you did not greet your soulmate with a smile, or excitement, rather with a forced bow and blank expression. Better to be dead than to fake true love. “Come now, do at least pretend that you are excited, for my sake. I have been waiting a century for this, after all.”
“Perhaps the universe found it difficult to find someone who could love you,” you say, the words tumbling out of your mouth, instant regret boiling up inside of you. What you expect is a swift death. What you get? A deep sigh, a scowl, a look of frustration. Still fearing your possible demise, you are quick to keep speaking. “Or maybe the universe heard me talk once, and struggled to find someone to tolerate me. Countless possibilities, a galaxy full of mysteries… and here we are. Forgive me for being crass, my Lady. I would blame it on my schedule change, but something tells me you would see right through that lie, yes?” Not like that was much better, you think, wondering how the hell you were going to survive this.
“You’re quite the character, aren’t you?... Do try not to make me regret this, I’d rather not kill my soulmate. Now, sit down, it’s about time for a proper introduction,” Lady Dimitrescu commands. Then she’s sitting on the edge of her bed, gently patting the spot next to her. Joining her is just about the last thing you want to do right now… but you obey nonetheless. Still, you angle yourself away from her ever so slightly, hoping the subtle body language would help you distance yourself from her. There’s something in her expression that tells you she knows exactly what you’re trying to do. “I am Lady Dimitrescu, though you already know that. You may call me Alcina… for now. Behave, or that is one of many privileges I will not hesitate to take from you. Understood?”
It takes all of your willpower to avoid rolling your eyes, but you manage, instead giving a short nod. This’ll be interesting, for sure.
#lady dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu x reader#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#resident evil: village#re8 village#love this lady<3
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I'm sorry if I'm bothering but I cant stop thinking about the brothers reacting to the mcs family accepting them as mcs bf before and after they find out the bro is a demon
The Brothers When MC’s Family Accepts Them As Demons (Headcanons)
These got super long, so I’m gonna put them under the cut. Thanks for the request, this was super fun to do.
Lucifer
The amount of stress he had going into this was ridiculous. He didn’t want to meet your family in the first place, he thought it was unnecessary and he would have much rather they not knew that he and you were dating. You insisted though, and he begrudgingly agreed to meet them when you went back up to the human world for your birthday. Everything was going fine until you slipped up and used his full name, and he was honestly… relieved. He had hated the stupid nickname you had given to him… “Luci”. It made him cringe, but nobody really named their child Lucifer, so apparently it was necessary. That one slip though, and he froze up, waiting for your parents to freak out… but they didn’t. Honestly, he wondered if your parents were even listening, but then your dad tried to make a dad joke. “So Lucifer, what was the fall like? Just joking, glad you could join us.” Confused. Kind of worried about your parents judgement, because, of course he loves you and wouldn’t want anyone to get in between the two of you… your parents are just… okay?With you dating a demon? Might need to take the second that your parents didn’t take.
Mammon
Not really all for meeting your family, but then again, that could be another way of getting free gifts or money. Definitely decides that he wants to meet them around Christmas, and make sure to let them know that you’re bringing your boyfriend, and that he likes gold anything or just flat out cash. He was nervous, but he wouldn’t let that show. Obviously The Great Mammon doesn’t get nervous, not around some measly humans. But these humans, these humans were important to you, and if he didn’t make a good impression, well… he could handle his brothers talking bad about him, but your family was a whole different thing. Christmas morning seemed to be going along without a hitch, the two of you had decided to just call each other by pet names so his real name wouldn’t slip… that is until his greediness started to show and he started pestering your parents about what he got. You lightly smacked his arm, whispering his name, hoping that your family didn’t hear you. “Oh, Mammon? Like the demon of greed Mammon?” Uhm… why weren’t your parents freaking out? “Don’t worry. We didn’t really know what to get you, so we just decided on money. I’m sure you won’t mind.” He’s on a whole new level of shook. Your family is so chill, he wants to come back for every holiday.
Leviathan
Getting him to leave his own bedroom was a job on its own. Trying to get him to agree to meet your family was a whole new level of difficult. There was no need for it, they won’t like him, he’s a loser… he gave all these excuses, and although none of them were true to you, he believed them to be true. You were on the verge of giving up and he saw that, he saw that you were upset about it, and he didn’t want to be the reason for you being upset so he finally said that he would. Only for a day trip though. His anxiety was already through the roof and he didn’t want to be stuck in a house of a bunch of people he didn’t know longer than 24 hours. That was no problem for you though as your family was having a small get together. It was a cookout and there would be a pool and everything, just a pleasant day of family fun. That’s how you sold it to him, and although he was still reluctant, he liked the idea of a pool. So now, here you were, goofing off in the pool. He was pushing you around the pool in a little donut raft, and he decided it would be funny to flip you off of it. You squealed his name when you came up from out of the water, forgetting for a second where you were, and your entire family was looking at the two of you now. “Leviathan… I know I heard that name before… isn’t that that one demon who…” “Doesn’t matter what he is, they’re both having fun. Burgers are up in five minutes, kiddos.” They’re not… shocked? Not running for the hills, having a panic attack. Nope, just burgers. He finally feels like he can really relax now, and that’s all that matters.
Asmodeus
Pfft, worried? Not him. People love him. Your parents will too, he was sure of it. He was all for visiting your parents, actually, he was the one who brought it up. You were about to visit your mom for her birthday, and he decided that he wanted to come along too, since he’d never met your family before. He felt like you were hiding him and he didn’t like that feeling, so now he was coming to your mom's birthday and he even picked her out a gift. Obviously it was self-care set, but what else was he going to get her? It’s Asmo. Of course, your mother loves him immediately. He’s kind and he’s gentle and soft spoken, and he keeps calling her beautiful. He was a charmer, and everything was going great. The entire party went flawlessly, and you both thought that you’d get through the day without anyone finding out that your boyfriend was in fact a demon. That is, until your mother stopped the two of you for goodbye hugs, and she decided to become curious about his name. “Is Asmo your full name, or is it short for something else?” She was so inquizitive, and you bit your lip, hoping that he’d just agree that Asmo was his name, but, he had no shame. He told her that it was short for Asmodeus, and at first she looked shocked, but then she just shrugged. “Hmm, well… isn’t that something. You two get home safely, and come back soon, okay?” At first he thought that she just didn’t know who he was, but you explained to him that she knew, she just didn’t care. He kind of had a feeling it would happen that way though, so he was just as happy as he was before he came up to visit.
Satan
He’ll agree to visit your parents, you don’t have to bribe him, convince him, nothing. He just wants you to call him by his real name. He said he would be on his best behaviour, and that your family would have no reason to hate him unless they’re judging him strictly off of his name, but if that’s the case, then they’re shit anyway and he doesn’t want to associate with them. It was a Fathers Day party, and you were on edge the entire time. Your parents weren’t judgemental at all, but the name, his name alone would freak anyone out. He was a true gentleman, shaking your fathers hand and having regular conversations with him about different books that they’ve read. Things were great, and then dinner came along. Satan and your dad were still talking amongst themselves when he stopped in the middle of his sentence. “You know, Y/N never did tell us your name. Things have just been so busy, I’m sorry about that.” Satan didn’t hold back, he almost too proudly stated his name to your father, like he was expecting some type of freak out. It was your mom who chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Ah, leave it to Y/N to date Satan. Well, everyone seems happy in the relationship, who am I to judge?” And with that everyone went back to eating. You were more shocked than Satan was, he just seemed really smug now, continuing his conversation with your dad. It felt like a giant weight had been lifted off your shoulders.
Beelzebub
Halloween, you chose Halloween. There was candy involved and he seemed excited about it. He was always so sweet and you really felt like you had nothing to worry about with him, how could anyone not like Beel? He was a big teddy bear, an absolute sweetheart. He wasn’t even nervous about meeting your family, and there was no reason for him to be. When he walked into your house everyone greeted him with open arms, warm welcomes, and soft smiles. Honestly, the only thing intimidating about him was his height, but everyone quickly got over that and it even became a sort of joke between him and your dad. “Oh, watch your head there, pal. If Y/N would have told me you were so tall I would have raised the archways a little more.” Dad jokes, and while you were embarrassed whenever your dad said anything, Beel seemed to love it. When snack trays went out, Beel devoured everything almost immediately, and it was only when he had cleared the entire table that he realized what he did, smiling sheepishly at you. Your family was clearly… concerned. Beel decided to take it upon himself to explain everything since you seemed so worried, and his plan was, if they freaked out, he’d just take you back to the Devildom to celebrate Halloween there. It was quite the opposite though, and your mom actually seemed relieved that there was a reason for him eating so much. “That makes so much sense. I was getting worried that someone wasn’t feeding you. Well, you can always come home anytime for dinner, alright?” So happy, he’s so happy. Ends up changing into his demon form for a Halloween costume which amazes everyone. He asks to visit your family at least once a week for dinner now. It’s a second home to him.
Belphegor
Why visit your family when he can just sleep? Sleep is life. He’ll probably just zonk out at your parents house anyway, but that wasn’t the point. You wanted him to at least meet your parents once. They had asked you to come home, and you had told them before that you had a boyfriend and they really wanted to meet him too. It wasn’t particularly hard to say no to you, it’s just that he didn’t like hurting your feelings, and he felt like it was the least he could do considering he did… kill you once. He really did do his best to stay awake, not for your parents, but for you. He didn’t want you to think he was rude for falling asleep at the dinner table, which almost happened. Once everyone moved into the living room though, he couldn’t help himself. Leaning against your shoulder he slowly dozed off and your mom noticed immediately. “Just like your father, able to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere.” You heard Belphie scoff quietly, deciding that he would throw out a joke about being Belphegor, the Demon of Sloth. Of course, you knew that it wasn’t a joke, and you tensed up, waiting for your mom’s reaction to it. “Oh, well, that makes sense now. Do you need a pillow, or a blanket? A warm cup of tea?” He peaked one eye open, staring at your mom for a second before looking up at you and declining, almost too politely. He was kind of bummed out that your mom wasn’t scared of him. There was no fun in it. At least he got to nap a little longer though, and she brought him a cup of tea anyway, so he was still winning in the end. All is well that ends well.
#obey me#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#obey me x reader#obey me x mc#obey me shall we date#om! shall we date#obey me! shall we date#om! x mc#om! x reader#obey me Lucifer#lucifer avatar of pride#obey me mammon#mammon avatar of greed#obey me leviathan#leviathan avatar of envy#obey me asmodeus#asmodeus avatar of lust#obey me Satan#satan avatar of wrath#obey me beelzebub#beelzebub avatar of gluttony#obey me Belphegor#belphegor avatar of sloth
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With Digimon Ghost Game starting, I thought about how different it is from previous Digimon series, though it's still undoubtedly Digimon... and then I realized all Digimon series are like that. So I wonder, what do you think sets each Digimon series apart from the rest?
I think both Ghost Game but also the reboot have been a wake-up call for people in terms of realizing that likes, dislikes, and tastes are subjective, and I think it's especially important in terms of this fanbase that is so obsessed with this idea you can objectively rank things by quality -- especially when each series is often deliberately trying to have its own identity, so it's arguably apples and oranges -- and forcing this idea of what's Good and Not Good on everyone else (especially when there's a nasty double standard phenomenon where Adventure and often Tamers get to be so impervious to criticism that people conveniently forget they're perfectly capable of being scrutinized for a lot of things they're weaker in). Very frustrating to see everyone who likes less popular series treated as if they have to accept that they like a "badly written series" for some things and everything else is a guilty pleasure, which I find to be incredibly dumb.
The most important take-home here is that the fact each series has its own identity is always going to be the main factor in what makes it "good" or not to you, not some arbitrary bar of comparison that's based on some narrow-minded view of "good writing" (which is usually unreasonably based on Adventure). For instance, the reason why 02 is so important to me is because (see below), to me, it has the highest amount of meaningful, important life lessons and themes that it wanted its audience to remember, to the point that I frankly do not care about where the plot goes in comparison. That may not be the case for everyone else, and that's fine, but should my tastes be called unreasonable for that? I think we're also coming to realize that because of Adventure (and kind of 02)'s precedent, so many people have been judging series purely by how intimate their individual character development style is, but this is unfair because Adventure and 02's ridiculous level of character depth to psychological detail is extremely unusual and unrealistic to expect of others; Adventure and 02 only achieved this by practically considering the plot utterly subservient to its character arcs, and it's arguably why they have some of the weakest "plots" in this franchise. It's so bizarre that I can see character development in other Digimon series that outstrips even most kids' anime on the market, but it's not as much as Adventure's so apparently it's bad. And, moreover, as it turns out, some people have priorities other than characterization; just because Adventure had that as its strength doesn't mean that's the only thing anyone should care about. Is the plot fun? Is there a meaningful message besides characters (also important to me)? Do you vibe with the tone being dark, or being silly? How much do you care about resourceful usage of Digimon lore? That kind of thing. Everyone is different, so that's why everyone has their own priorities. If you’re someone who prefers darker content, you may not realize that writing good and well-timed comedy is actually a very, very difficult task, especially when said comedy simultaneously has meaning (in comparison, it’s surprisingly easy to write “dark” but shallow content).
I think it's fair to like every Digimon series for its own thing, depending on your personal tastes. I can't speak for everyone, but my impressions are that it has to do with the following:
Adventure: Significantly easier to understand than 02 due to its more straightforward plot, and focus on individual character development ("individualism" being a strong point here). In terms of characters, it goes a lot into some very real social problems (the divorce around the Ishida and Takaishi families and the pressures surrounding Jou, for instance) in a very realistic manner. Also, it has that sense of mystique and absurdism to the Digital World that's both whimsical but also mysterious, and while 02 has it too, Adventure's the isekai story that has it the most.
02: The first is its focus on the importance of human relationships and the compelling group dynamic unparalleled in this franchise, and the second is its important themes and life lessons that I think are some of the strongest in said franchise. I have a whole tag for the ridiculous amount of nuance packed into every detail and dialogue line for this series, and I think every time I've rewatched an episode I've learned something new about it because there are so many things that clearly wanted to be said in each line. The entire series is basically an unpacking of the feelings of insidious self-hatred and the crushing feeling of being subject to society's expectations, and ones that are so deep-seated that you often don’t even have a single answer to how to unpack it (for instance, Miyako hardly has a tragic single event in her backstory, but she says and does a lot of things that'll be painfully familiar to those who have experienced chronic anxiety). Almost every plot point can be said to connect to each character arc in some way, and the mantras for appreciating and treasuring your own life and living life the way you will make this, in my opinion, the strongest series in terms of speaking to those who struggle with this kind of existential crisis for reasons of depression or otherwise. (Oops, I think I went too passionate about this; my biases are obvious...)
Tamers: I think it forms an interesting study and unpacking of the kinds of things you take for granted in Digimon or the monster-collecting genre in general, and an examination of how they'd work in a real-world context (although 02 had a focus on daily life, it didn't quite merge the Digimon and the real world factors until very late in the series). Also, probably the second highest on "hard sci-fi" (the only one that outstrips it is probably Appmon, but Appmon has a very different, more simplified take on it).
Frontier: A series that lies somewhere between Adventure's scale of individualism and 02's scale of group dynamic, and one more discussing the feeling of having your heart hardened from being an outcast, and what it takes to accept the idea of opening yourself up to others again. Recommended for those who like transforming hero and magical girl stories, too. From the Digimon perspective, also the one with the most detailed and consistent Digital World mythos.
Savers: I think this is the series that most drives home "life is complicated" (i.e. there isn't a single mastermind behind everything) in the most tasteful manner, because while it drives home the point that you can't just simplify everything into a good side and a bad side, some bad things really are evil (hi, Kurata), and it doesn't change the fact that everyone's responsible for cleaning up the fallout. The portrayal of the evils of government bureaucracy is probably the most realistic out of any of these series.
Xros Wars: For those who like fun, most of all! For those who like seeing Digimon finally get more of the spotlight and individuality since so much of it had been geared and biased towards the humans prior to this. For those who really like worldbuilding, and, after all, this is called Xros Wars, so it's interesting to see shakeups on the usual formulas in the form of the different factions and their priorities. Hunters is very different in tone, but I do think they have some of these aspects in common; that said, it being closer to having single partnerships brings it a bit closer in line to conventional Digimon partnerships, and it also has more of a picture of daily life. Also, as much as Tagiru is probably your-mileage-may-vary since he's not exactly a very nice kid (I get it if you don't vibe with that), which may also rub those hoping for not nice kids to become nice the wrong way, I do have to say I find him to be one of the funniest characters in this entire franchise, and you'd be surprised how hard good comedy is to write.
Appmon: Probably one of the strongest theme narratives besides 02, since it has a very clear and obvious theme about the importance of kindness in a world where technology is dominating and we're almost encouraged to strip the feelings out of everything. (Bonus for more straightforward plot than Adventure or 02 while still retaining a lot of its elements in terms of how to characterize them.) Also the first series to be speculative about the near future instead of taking place around the time it airs, and it's very obvious it wants to provide important and necessary commentary about what we need to do in the incoming era, especially as a lot of what it has to say becomes increasingly relevant.
Reboot: For those who like Digimon mythos and null canon -- this is probably the only series to show it off in this level of detail -- and the kind of cool action fights that would usually be saved for the climax in prior series (and animated in much more intimate detail with battle choreography than prior series would have). There are a lot of people into this franchise who felt like it genuinely was not making enough use of its Digimon roster and its potential because it kept going back to the old standbys (especially Adventure-based ones), so it was a huge relief for that crowd to see attention finally being paid.
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Twilight characters as random animals that I think are oddly fitting
(Also yes, I am roasting the animals as well)
Edward: He would be a Cheetah. Now I know, seems like a cop out just because of his speed but hear me out. Cheetahs are, at face value, pretty cool. They used to be my favorite animal as a child, but then I grew up.
Cheetahs, through no fault of their own, are severely inbred. Now thats mainly because of poaching, but the cheetas anxiety also comes into play. In captivity, cheetahs are usually given emotional support dogs. I will admit it is cute but it negatively affects the population. Excluding one in the wild, cheetas can be to anxious to breed and thats not good for conservation efforts.
Cheetahs can hit up to 80 miles per hour in a couple of seconds. They are designed for fast running and agility. Their claws are similar to that of a dogs for better traction and they have elongated spines for longer strides. They have a thin build, long legs and a long tail for balance.
This has downsides though. Many times after making a kill, it will get stolen for them by larger predators. Thats right, they get absolutely bodied by the other animals. I should probably make these shorter but I'm on a rant now, so I guess this will be semi educational.
Throughout the series, we see Edward over estimated his abilities and value, constantly getting bodied by others. He's essentially a perfect mormon, though thats on S'meyers. He constantly judges others, dehumanizing them to their baser flaws, without doing any self reflecting. Him viewing himself as a monster doesn't really count to me. While he definitely hates himself, the only thing he is truly demonizing is being a vampire.
Bella: Picking up from Edwards, Bella is a Chocolate Labrador. Yes, she is his therapy dog. I feel like this is really fitting for her. I know Golden retriever would make more sense, as thats the most common breed for service animals. However, I kind of focused on her appearance. Only at first though! I just know that Edward raved about her human qualities and that would pass over as animals as well. Her chocolate eyes and brown fur, very average and boring. Thats essentially Bella. Even Edward wasn't into her until he got a wiff. Labradors a very loyal dogs and while they have more personality than Bella, I just couldn't shake it. Their also very stupid. Ok that's kind of mean, they're not stupid but when it comes to love, then yeah they are stupid.
I used to have a lab, loved him to death, but god he was something else. Very much danger prone, from their own stupidity or their lack of survival instincts. I know that labs are almost aquatic. They love water, swimming, all that jazz. We can just say that bella has a few screws loose in her dna and is just "not like other labs."
Rosalie: Now she was hard. There are quite a few animals that I think would fit for her. I'll list the other ones, but that one I went with is the Swan. Like Edward, seems a little on the nose, but I have my reasoning.
I was going to pick a predator for her, as she is shown to be very vengeful and viscous. I would have pick some type of cat, most likely a purebred, from a rich family. It could still work, but the swan just speaks to me on this one.
Swan's are known for being beautiful, graceful, and are pictured as the symbol of love. They are also very vain. Edward constantly brings up Rosalies vanity. She was constantly valued for her beauty as a human, so of course that crossed over in the transformation. She was raised to be married into wealth, she was used as a bargaining chip to increase the family's standing.
Rose has a very strong character and makes her opinions known. She's assertive and aggressive at times. She's not afraid to get dirty.
Swans mate for life and like geese, are known for being great parents. I was also going to choose geese as an option for the maternal instincts. I was wary at first because swans can be really aggressive. Like actually, you think geece are bad? Yikes bestie...
I was conflicted because swans are known for drowning dogs and sometimes people. However, I can actually see Rose drowning Bella. It's not that unbelievable lmao.
Emmett: Now this one is just ironic. I only associate him with bears. Its inevitable, but picking a Grizzly or Black bear is too obvious. So I went a slightly different route...
So I was going to pick the Sun bear just because of looks alone. Like, I'm not exaggerating, it looks like someone wearing a bear costume. I don't think it fits him but I know for a fact that he would dress up as a sun bear and sneak into a zoo to see if anyone would notice. I'll put a pic of it here
Like look at this thing. I have no words...
Anyway, what I picked was a Sloth Bear. Now Sloth bears are mostly nocturnal, which either way works consider vamps don't sleep. Their diet is also odd but honestly so is the cullens. They're native to the Indian subcontinent, and are known for being aggressive towards humans. Its said that for the most part they're pretty calm, so I think its just fear of humans that make them act aggressively. Honestly, that's a good thing because they are listed as vulnerable on the IUCN Red list.
They have some similarities with sloths, which is where they get the name. They have long claws and unusual teeth. They are known to hang upside down from tree branches, and is described as having a messy appearance. Honestly, Emmitt has a messy personality. Sorry bestie but you're a lot of work.
Now heres the biggest reason for choosing this bear. Aside from Baloo from the jungle book being a sloth bear, they are known to run fades with Tigers. Honestly, how fucking badass is that!? Now I don't think there are recorded instances of a Sloth bear killing a Tiger, but when push comes to shove, they can hold their own and I find that incredibly impressive.
Carlisle: This one was somehow the easiest as well as the toughest. I know Owl seems like the obvious choice, and I can see it. However, I believe Carlisle values emotional intelligence as much or if not more than academic intelligence. He is so charismatic and values other's above himself. He might not be as Saint like as Edward thinks, but he does try and I think he genuinely cares about others. For that reason alone, I choose a Elephant.
Elephant's are very social animals and are extremely intelligent. I could rave about them for ages, I love them so much.
Now elephants live in a familial unit and are usually matriarchal. Bulls usually are on the outer edges of the herd or form little groups with other males. Honestly, they're not that bad aside from when their in musk.
In the group of males, the elder ones will teach the younger where to get the best food, water, how to use things as tools, and every other thing that will increase their odds of survival. This is really cute to me tbh, they do this because the females usually choose the older males because they've proved that they are intelligent and strong, that they have survived and will continue to for awhile. Teaching the younger males these things are to make the odds of them getting chosen to mate more likely. The whole unit just reminds me of a father that has to deal with rowdy teens.
Carlisle likes to take in strays, he might not have a herd but he will make one and teach them to thrive. That's how he envisions it anyway. He just has a found family and is trying his best.
Esme: Now this might seem like an insult, but I promise it's not! This is in no way misogynistic. I love cattle and ever since I took animal science in highschool, I have appreciated these grass puppies like they deserve. Call me Castro because I love cows.
Yup! I chose a Cow for her. Specifically a beef cow. That might sound weird but its because beef cows have higher maternal instinct than dairy cows. I'm thinking Scottish Highland based on vibes alone.
They are nicknamed the Gentle Giants of Scotland. Super maternal and sweet and ugh look how cute they are!
Esme came from a abusive marriage and had just lost her child, she was depressed and desperate. Her changing was, in a way, salvation. She just fits in. She adopts all these strays along with him and will protect them to the death. She might be gentle by nature, but don't fuck with her family. She lost her first one and she isn't going to lose this one.
Alice: She's an odd one. There are so many possibilities and maybe I'm biased, but I feel like she would be a Crow.
Ok listen, I'm definitely biased but it just feels right. Crows get a bad rap, they are so cool! They are so intelligent and have the ability to actually sit and think about the past, prest, and future. I forget what its called, but this was only seem in humans! Maybe other apes, I can't remember exactly, but either way its awesome. They do live in groups, or murders, and remember people and faces. They remember locations and are able to pass down information through generations. They essentially have their own language! They are able to use tools too!
Alice's story is really sad. When we first meets her, it revolves around the death of her mother and her institutionalized. She was essentially tortured and forgot everything from her past. All she had was the future and even that wasn't constant. Crows a often viewed as omens, they are associated with death. I personally believe that instead of being the cause, they just know something is going to happen. They are very inquisitive and can be creative.
If you befriend a murder of crows, sometimes, depends or the group, they will bring gifts. Its can range from food to shiny metals and colorful plastic. Hell, I think I've seen a post of one stealing things from people just to gift it to their human.
Alice's love language is gifts. Even if they are focused around fashion, she still goes out of her way to get something that will look good and at least be a little comfortable. By that I mean she tends to forget peoples comfort zones, but she means well.
Jasper: Honestly not to sure what to put for him. I know a predator would be more fitting, but for some reason I can see a donkey working. I know, seems like I'm clowning on the confederate. Fair, but I'm serious about the donkey thing. Honestly, it would be perfect if it wasn't a herbivore. Porcupine would also work.
Being a predator would make more sense. Given his backstory and his characterization, it wouldn't make sense for him to be a prey animal. Usually I wouldn't count this, but given his gore filled past and trouble with the diet, it seemed fitting.
I see him as a Big Cat. Honestly, vamps in general just give cat vibes. Jasper though especially have some cat like qualities, which originates from hunting and being a soldier.
I specifically see him as a Mountain Lion. Aside from him being blonde, he just has the predatory stealth to him. In midnight sun, we see him use his gift to make the nomads overlook him. He's honestly really powerful.
Mountain lions are known for being stealthy with an air of grace and power to them. They are stong animals. And I mean strong. They can jump 40-45 feet.
They're very elusive and quite. They stalk their prey and tend to attack from behind but don't think they won't hold their ground if need be.
Jasper was changed during the Civil War and forced to fight in the Newborn wars. He was a soldier as a human and as a vampire. He's able to feel and manipulate others emotions. He's covered in scars and is very intimidating.
He still struggles with the diet and honestly I hate how the others handle it. Like they have no room to talk. I don't want to defend the confederate but it just pisses me off. He has to deal with his hunger on top of everyone else's. Like damn, besties always on edge! Everyone doubts him which I don't think helps any.
Also, Mountain lions and Cheetahs can purr!
@aquanova99 I'll do a Volturi one too. That one will be fun lmao
#twilight saga#the twilight saga#twilight au#bella swan#edward cullen#carlisle cullen#esme cullen#jasper hale#jasper cullen#alice cullen#rosalie hale#rosalie cullen#emmett cullen#the cullens#the volturi#honestly look at the muscle definition on that thing#jesus chriiiist
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You’re Easier To Kick When You’re Kneeling.
summary: you and eren were both titan shifters, getting your ass beat in the court room by humanity’s strongest
warnings: violence, swearing,
✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩
“Good luck!”
Where the last words Hanji spoke before shoving you and Eren into the court room. Tension penetrated the air as the Survey Corps gave hard glares to the Military Police.
Spinning around you saw everyone looking to you and Eren. Embarrassment and fear crawled through your nerves, gazing to Eren as he looked just as afraid.
“I’m scared..” You whispered to the brunette, he turned to look down at your lightly shaking physique.
“We’ll be fine.” He gave you a small smile, his eyes creased softly, he wished he could reach out and pat you on the shoulder.
Straining yours eyes forwards you bit down your tongue readying yourself mentally. You noticed two long metal pillars beside eachother, gulping.
“Step forward.” An office spoke as he shoved the barrel of a gun into Erens back. Urging him forwards forcefully, quickly you walked to catch up with him.
Two officers pushed you and Eren apart. Snapping your head to the brunette, he nodded his head to you calmly, his eyes gave you comfort as the man shoved you to your knees infront of the pole.
Together the men picked up the metal and ordered you to place your hands stretched behind you, doing so they let the pole fall back into place. Having you directly connected to the pole and squatted down.
You hung your head low as the hair on your shoulders fell forwards to conceal your face. Your eyes had dilated and your body shook. Fear. Worry. Anxiety.
A door opened followed by footsteps and a chair scraping across the stone as someone seated themselves. The judge.
“Well then, let us begin. Eren Jaeger and Y/N L/N, yes?” He’d adjust his glasses and stare at the small paper in his fingers before continuing. “You are soldiers, sworn to sacrifice your life for the public good. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.” Eren answered as he stared bug-eyed at the judge, “Yes, sir.” You repeated after Eren and tilted your head up.
“This is an exceptional situation. The tribunal will be held under military, not civilian, law. The final decision rests entirely in my hands.” The white haired man looked from the paper to us, “Your fate will be decided here. Do you have any objections.”
Looking to the floor you squeezed your eyes shut momentarily, opening them wide again. “No, sir.” You and Eren spoke simultaneously.
“I appreciate your perception. I will be direct. As anticipated, concealing your existence has proved impossible. We must make your existing public in some form, or a threat to humanity other than titans will arise. What I will decide today is which force will have custody of you.”
“The Military Police,”
“Or the Survey Corps?”
“Then, I ask the Military Police for their proposal.”
Your head shifted to the Military Police, watching as a man readied himself before speaking vibrantly.
“Yes, sir, I am Commander of the Military Police, Nile Dawk, I will present my proposal. After a thorough investigation of Eren and Y/N’s body, we believe they should be eliminated immediately.”
Your eyes expanded as he said this. This man hardly knew either of you, not a single fucking thing. Your eyebrows furrowed into a scowl while your hands contoured into fists.
“It’s certainly true that their titan power overcame our pervious peril. However, now their existence threatens to spark a civil war. So we ask them to die for humanity’s sake, leaving behind all information they can.” He finished
Your stomach churned as he spoke, did everyone seriously wish you dead?
“There is no need for that! They are an invasive pest! They have deceived the walls that embody Gods wisdom! They must be killed at once!” A preist yelled at the top of his lungs as he pointed to us with crazed eyes. Freak.
“Preist Nick. Order, please.” The judge calmly stated before shifting his attention to the right side.
“We’ll hear the Survey Corps’s proposal next.”
“Yes, sir. I, 13th Commander of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith, will present my proposal. We would welcome Eren and Y/N as an official member of our forces, and use their power to retake Wall Maria... That is all.”
You stared at the Commander, that’s all. That’s all? Yours and Erens life were on the line and he couldn’t conjure up another defense statement.
“That’s all?” The judge questioned suspiciously.
“Yes, sir. With their power, we can retake Wall Maria. We believe it is clear what our priorities should be.”
“I see. And where do you plan to begin this mission”The judge stated, “Pixis, the Trost wall has been completely sealed, correct?” He added.
“Yes, it can never be opened again.” A bald man retorted.
“We would like to set out from Karanes, in the east. From there, we will proceed to Zhiganshina. We will determine the route as we go.” Erwin confidently spoke as he stared to the judge.
“Wait a minute!” shouted a man, whipping your head over, “Shouldn’t we seal all the wall gates once and for all? The Colossal Titan can only destroy the gates. If we can strengthen them, we needn’t endure further attacks!” His planned seemed smart but there where missing pieces and it would most likely be difficult to achieve.
“Shut up, merchant dog!”
“With those titan powers we can return to Wall Maria!”
“We can no longer indulge your delusions of grandeur!”
Argued two men as they yelled at one another from across the room, ‘So annoying’ you thought.
“You talk a lot, pig.” A dark voice rung throughout the court, turning your head up you spotted Levi. Behind his tough physique he was actually a bit funny.
“Where is your proof?” Levi continued, “that the titans will wait while we seal the gates? The ‘we’ you speak of are only those you wish to protect, your ‘friends’ who help line your pockets. The people who starve because there isn’t enough land to sow don’t even figure into the thoughts of you pig.” Levi finished as you stared at him with wide eyes, was he seriously protecting you from the Military Police?
“We just thought that we could survive by sealing the wall gates—“ The merchant began, “Silence!” Yelled the priest beside him as he slammed his hand on the railing, nearing the mans eyes. “Impious traitor! Mere humans altering Wall Rose, walls that were a gift from God? Can you truly see those walls? Gods work far beyond human capabilities, and not understand?”
The rest of his words drowned out as your mind took hold, thoughts of the future plundered your head as you squeezed your eyes shut.
The judges taps of his desk brought you back to reality and you snapped your head up, “Silence. You may discuss your personal philosophies and opinions elsewhere.”
“Jaeger, L/N. Can you continue to serve as a soldier, using your titan powers to benefit humanity?”
“Yes, I can!” Eren spoke clearly, the judges cold gaze shifting to you, “Yes, sir.”
“But the report on Trost’s defense says this... ‘Immediately after turning into a titan, Eren swung his fist at Mikasa Ackerman.’” You sucked in a breath and looked to Eren, his eyes extended as he looked to Mikasa. Of course, he doesn’t remember.
“Is Mikasa Ackerman present?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“You are Ackerman? Is it true that, as a titan, Jaeger attacked you?” The old man questioned her.
You sighed softly, ‘As if he can control it yet’ you thought angrily in your mind.
“Yes, its true.”
Gasps of terror rung throughout the court, all eyes falling on Eren in a deathly glare.
“I knew it... He’s just another titan.”
“What about the girl!” Another protested as your head whipped to them, sending a glare to them.
“But, on two previous occasions, Eren saved my life in his titan form. The first time, mere seconds before a titan would have had me in its grasp, he stood between us, protecting me. The second time, he saved Armin and me from an HE shell. I would like these facts to be considered aswell.”
“I object,”
“I believe these comments are greatly colored by her personal feelings. At an early age, Mikasa Ackerman lost her parents and was taken in by the Jaeger household.” Well haven’t you done your homework, you pondered with a small frown.
“Our investigation had also revealed a surprising fact about the underlying events. At age nine, Eren Jaeger and Mikasa Ackerman killed three robbers who tried to kidnap her.”
More gasps could be heard as the news entered their ears, you shook your head. ‘What stupid fucking evidence to have, like they had a choice’ you considered furiously in your mind.
“Even if it was self defense, I must question their fundamental humanity. Is it right to entrust humanity’s fate, resources, and lives to him?”
Whispering and arguing broke out between the different sides, turning their heads to their fellow comrades to spew hatred. What a loss. Losing to this mans ugly mouth. You hung your head and sighed quietly.
“So is she. Do we know if we can trust her!” Referring to you as he pointed. “That’s right! Just to be safe we should dissect her too!” He looked to Mikasa next.
“Wait!” Yelled Eren and looked up to the man, “I may be a monster, but they have nothing to do with it! Nothing at all!” Eren defended as you watched, his spit flying from his mouth as he spoke from his soul. Your heart clenching in pitifulness as you frowned sadly.
“We can’t trust that!”
“It’s true!”
“If you’re covering for them, it means they’re one of you!”
“No!” He screamed and slammed his handcuffs against the metal pole, looking down in defeat, “I mean, you are wrong. But you’re simply coming up with theories that fit, whatever it suits you to fit.”
“Eren..” You said softly as you stared at him, your eyes in pain for him. He was so much braver than you and it gave you courage to see him so persistent.
Looking up you began to speak, “Besides, all of you people. You’ve never seen a titan! What are you so afraid of? What is your point if you do not have the power to fight? If you’re afraid to fight for humanity’s survival then, help us!” Your voice getting increasingly louder as you glared at the pathetic people who called themselves the Military Police.
“Just shut up and trust us!” You yelled your last statement and looked up to the judge, your chest panting heavily as you meant every word.
“Weapons ready!” The Commander of the Military Police shouted while his cadet set his gun on the railing and pointed it to you.
Until your face snapped to the right and pain shot through your nerves, your vision blurred instantly. Metal was all you tasted. A tooth had even managed to fall from your mouth and rolled onto the ground. You blinked to dimish the haziness and looked to your striker.
Levi Ackerman
“Huh?—“
His steel pointed boot slammed across your face again. Your back slamming against the pole behind you. Blood trickled down your nose and down to your chin, dropping onto the floor. Your blood had even splattered small droplets along the stone flooring.
Levi grabbed your collar and shoved you forwards to him. The handcuffs clanging against the pole as Levi stared down at you, his frigid glare locking eyes with your beaten ones before slamming his knee into the side of your head, sending it flying.
Pain. So much pain. It was burning you alive from the inside as all you could do was endure it. Tch, this guy’s a dick.
“Y/N!” Eren screamed from the opposite end. Hatred and worry evident in his tone as he struggled against his own cuffs, “Stop it!” Eren attempted again as all he could do was watch his friend get beaten to the brink of death.
Levi continued to sock you with his boot, giving you zero remorse as he beat the girl below him. Mikasa glared and got ready to jump the railing before Armin held her back.
Blood streamed down your face, a large puddle had began to form under you. You gasped for air before Levi lifted his leg high and stomped down on your head into the puddle of your demise. Grimacing at the filth and pain, all you did was lay there. If someone wasn’t looking hard enough, they’d assume you were already dead.
Croaks of pain left your body as his boot remained on your head, struggling to breath as blood trickled down your nose and into your mouth, unintentionally swallowing.
“This is a personal opinion. But I believe pain to be the best way to train someone. What you need is to be trained like a dog, not a man.”
Your rigid breathes left your mouth as you stared straight at Eren, his eyes meeting yours as he seemed to become visibly furious. Bruised and cuts tracked your once pretty, soft skin. Blood now coating all the crevices in your face.
“It’s easier to kick you while you’re kneeling, too.”
Levi lifted his boot and slammed it into the side of your head once again, giving you no time to breathe he stomped it back onto the cold ground again. Repeating his tourtue when he kicked your head all over again.
Strangled breaths was all you could muster, along with the rattling of the handcuffs as you were thrown around like trash, filling the silence of the fearful court room.
Kick. Kick, Kick.
All anyone could do was watch your doom, “Wait, Levi...”
Your head was pushed against the pole with his boot flat on your face as he turned his head to the one speaking, “What is it?”
His boot fell from your face as you hunched forwards, croaking as you gasped for air, blood trickling down the sides of your mouth.
“That’s dangerous... What if she gets angry and turns into a titan?”
You slowly tilted your head up to Levi, hair falling away from your face and resting on your shoulders. The raven head stared at you for a moment, then shoved his boot back onto your face and slamming it against the pole.
“What are you saying?” Levi dropped his leg again and gripped a fistful your hair, violently pulling you to his face as your eyes struggled to remain open from extreme bruising.
“Aren’t you going to dissect her?” He dropped your hair and stood straight, peering down to your defeated and beaten figure.
“When she turned into a titan last time, she killed twenty other titans before collapsing. If she is an enemy, her intelligence makes her a more formidable foe. Still no match for me, of course.”
Levi gazed to the Military Police, “But what will you do? Anyone persecuting her should also consider that fact. Do you really think you can kill her?” Levi spoke cooly as he stood infront of you, staring you down.
From afar you heard others speak, but your heartbeat clogged your ears as it deafened any other noise. Staring at Levi’s boots infront of you, you noted your blood coating the bottom before gently shutting your eyelids.
You could only hear Levi as he spoke from ahead of you, “I’m certain I can kill her. The only problem is I doubt I can do any less.” Levi proposed.
Hearing the pound of the desk above you, the judge made his decision. But you’d never make out what he proposed.
Footsteps stepped back from ahead of you as new ones came from behind you, uncuffing you and lifting the pole.
You tumbled forwards onto the unwelcoming ground, cautiously opening your eyes to the glaring sunlight that entered through the windows.
Eren ran to you, crouching down infront of you as you saw him shout words at you. He picked your head up in his hands and cradled you in his lap, checking for your pulse.
Your eyes began to shut again, your head lulling to the side to spot the raven head. Levi stared at you from afar, his arms crossed over his chest. The last thing you saw was the ravens dark gaze before your eyes rolled and all you saw was darkness.
be real, we all wish we were the ones being kicked
#aot x reader#levi heichou#levi ackerman#levi x reader#anime gif#aot imagines#aot fanfiction#aot#levi aot#levi imagine#levi x y/n#snk levi#snk anime#snk x reader#snk#attack on titan
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