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letsloveimagines · 4 years

Photo

Title: Crush

Pairing: Corpse Husband x fem!youtuber!reader

Collab with: @the-winter-sxldier-posts

Requested by: @unicornblood4ever

Request: Hi I just saw your request post for Corpse, so if you're still taking requests I have one. The reader have been on a losing streak, and Corpse tries to help. But accidentally rats himself out as the second imposter. With fluff if possible, of course only if you have time to write and everything.

Word Count: 3963

Warnings: a little angts and fluff, i guess?

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also, I will not make anything to make Corpse uncomfortable, if he ends saying he doesn’t like fanfiction about him, I will delete this.

Part II: Here

♦⋅☆⋅♦

Y/N sat down at her gaming setup, she was getting ready to start a stream she had been invited by her friend Felix (aka Pewdiepie) to play among us with him, and some other friends. She made sure everything was in order before starting it. She had been doing this for so long, but each time it felt like the first, and there was always that little chill in her belly indicating she was nervous.

She got onto her twitter quickly, just to let people know she was live in case they didn't get the notification about it. As people started coming in, Y/N smiled at the camera. “Hey guys, welcome to the stream.” She read one of the comments from chat asking what she was gonna be playing on stream today. “Today we are streaming some “Among Us’ with some friends, and I am getting to who they are before you guys spam it in chat. I’m going to be playing with Corpse, Sykkuno, Rae, Felix, Seán, Lily, Toast, Poki and Leslie.”

She joined the discord call, as the game loaded up. Y/N had her facecam in the middle on the bottom screen to make sure that she wouldn’t leak the code, once Felix sent it to the discord. Once the code was entered they were in the lobby and Y/N, went to the little mini computer in the game to customize her astronaut, and as always she was quick to pick the white colored one with the pink flower on her helmet. “Hey guys.” Y/N said to her friends in discord with a smile. Felix was the first to speak “Y/N finally you’re here!” She and everyone else laughed as he kept talking, excitedly. “We are still waiting for Corpse and Seán to join before we start, they’ll be here in a minute.” Everyone had said their hellos to Y/N as Seán joined the discord call and the game, followed shortly by Corpse. “Hey, Seán, Corpse.” “Hey, Y/N.” “Whaddup baby.” They both said at the same time making everyone laugh once more, as they all had their characters customized. Y/N’s face turned a few shades of red at what Corpse had said, and her chat was quick to pick up on it. “That is everyone, we are starting the game now.” She muted her mic after Felix had started the game and the black screen with the red astronaut, said shhhhh. Then her screen read ‘Crewmate, there are 2 imposters among us.’

She blew out a breath talking to the chat. “At least we can warm up as a crewmate this round.”

But…

It didn't take much longer for her to get killed, which made her swear. She knew she couldn't trust Felix but she did anyway, and he literally stabbed her in the back… What a traitor.

♦⋅☆⋅♦

The time passed faster than it should have, or at least that’s what it seemed to the group of friends who were just having fun.

Y/N had now been streaming for an hour, and she was on a major losing streak. She either got crewmate, or voted out first as imposter because she was a bad liar. Or when that didn't happen, she was one of the first ones to be killed, and had to spend the entire game floating from one side of the ship to the other as a little white ghost, completing tasks for her team to win. To be honest, she was already a little irritated about that. They were now in the lobby talking to each other while waiting to start the next game. Y/N's nostrils were flared with frustration after another round of failure at being an imposter. She sighed, unmuting her mic."I just wanted to say that in all of these rounds I must have played a full 8 seconds! Like come on, what's wrong with me today!?"

That phrase was enough to make the others burst out laughing, including her chat. The comments came and went so fast, sliding on the screen on her right side, that she could barely keep up.

Sykkuno, like the blessed and pure angel he was, replied amid laughter: "Don't worry, you're just on a bad streak. Better luck next time."

"Yeah, I guess." She answered while moving her mini white astronaut in circles, being quickly accompanied by the black astronaut with horns on his helmet. Y/N smiled at that.

"Stop talking guys, I'll start the new round now." Pewds, who was the host, almost screamed at them.

Y/N cracked her neck and her fingers preparing herself.

"Stay with me this time Y/N, and I'll protect you." A deep voice was heard through her headphones, causing a shiver to go all the way down her spine.

"Oh!" She exclaimed surprised, looking at her chat that was going insane with everyone saying how cute that was. "Thank you, Corpse, let's do that."

"No problem." She could hear the smile in his voice.

The game was started and the black screen with the red astronaut, said shhhhh. Then her screen read IMPOSTER.

Y/N quickly muted her mic, as soon as she stopped listening to her friends speak. "Okay, I wasn't expecting that." She commented to her chat, very surprised, because next to her doll was Corpse's own little character. "Well, maybe my luck is changing. Everyone heard that Corpse and I were going to be together, so at least now we have an alibi if anyone suspects us." Corpse danced around Y/N, suggesting she follow him, and immediately she did. They both went through the ship as he was looking for innocent astronauts for them to murder. They ended up in medbay first, where Y/N faked her samples task, with Corpse watching over her and making sure that no one would find their behavior suspicious.

And, oh, how her luck seemed to have increased when Felix walked in. Y/N immediately pulled up the sabotage map and locked the medbay doors, and Corpse was quick to kill him. That made the girl laugh hard, yelling out loud. "That was just karma having its way!"

Then both vented out as the doors were still locked.

Y/N smiled talking to the chat. “Pewds is dead, next if the opportunity arises we need to get Seán. They are the two that always sus me out even when I’m a crewmate.” She went back to the game as they vented into electrical, since nobody was there presently. They both faked tasks in electrical, Y/N going first with Corpse watching her back. To her surprise, Seán walked in all alone and right as she was going to get her first kill, when Felix’s body was reported. She rolled her eyes. “Damn, so close to getting them both.” She said to her fans as she unmuted the mic, and saw that Rae was the one that found Pewds.

“Where is the body?” Y/N questioned trying to keep her voice level and calm, to not give herself away. “Pewds is dead in medbay.” Was the answer she got from the other girl. “Y/N and I were in Electrical with Seán.” Corpse said, trying to immediately shift suspicion off of the two of them. “They were already there when I entered the room, however. I don't know where they came from before, though."

"We came in through storage, after Y/N and I both did the trash chute, Y/N stopped at the gas can and then we came to the electrical to do our tasks."

Y/N quickly muted herself. "God, Corpse is gonna carry us this round, I can already feel it…I just want one kill and that is Seán, Corpse can kill everyone else... I just want to kill Seán!" She unmuted again as the friends decided that they didn't have enough information to vote anyone, so they skipped and no one was ejected.

Corpse danced around again for Y/N to follow him and she did. This time they went through weapons. Y/N faked the task against the wall while Corpse faked one as well. Y/N brought up the sabotage map while they waited on the kill cool down to end.

Y/N sabotaged the lights, and the two imposters ran over there to turn them on as a way not to give anything that made them suspicious.

"Kill someone, don't wait for Corpse." Y/N read the comments, confused. "I don't know guys, are you sure? Today I haven't won any games as an imposter, so I don't want to give any reasons to make my team lose.” Looking back at the screen of the computer, she smiled seeing that the two little astronauts were touching each other, eye to eye, in what would probably be a strange little kiss. "Awww guys, look! Corpse just kissed me, this is too cute to handle."

But there was something that the fans did not fail to notice, and were quick to tell her that.

User: She's blushing!

User: This is so cute, I'm dying.

User: UGH, I ship them together so much!

"Oh, shut up y’all." She said with her face on fire, clearing her throat trying to make her voice normal again. However, the pink tone that painted her cheeks did not want to disappear, getting worse and worse as she thought about it. “Okay, as much as I don't like it, I'm going to do what you said. I’m sorry, Corpse." And then she quickly ran away, going to another path separated from Corpse, looking for someone alone that she could kill.

Hopefully it would be Seán.Y/n would be the first to agree that she was a little obsessed with getting her revenge. But could you blame her? Seán and Felix were almost always the reason she got voted out or killed first.

She went around the map, and on the navigation she found Lily alone. "Oh oh, poor Lily, but I need to do this." She was quick to press the button, kill and enter the vent, leaving Lily's body cut in half behind.

"Quickly, I need to find someone to be my alibi! Where's Corpse?" She came out of a different vent, running and seeing Rae nearby, quickly joining her. It didn't take long before someone reported the body. "Oh no, I'm sweating already."

“Lily’s body was in navigation.” Leslie said.

“And Toast is dead too, so it was a double kill this round.”

"Where have you been, Leslie?" Corpse asked with such a deep and calm voice that if Y/N were not the other imposter, she would think he was innocent. “I was with Sykkuno in security, looking at the cameras.”

“Yes, I was with him.” The mentioned boy said.

“Well, I was with Poki in medbay but I needed to do the asteroids in weapons. So, when I finished in weapons I went down, and found the body." Leslie replied.

"That seems a little sus to me, to be honest."

"Yeah, seems pretty sus to me too." Y/N repeated after Corpse, trying to help.

"Okay, wait a minute." Rae began, suspiciously. "I was with Y/N for a while because we met in storage, but she came from the right side of the map, I saw it."

"Explain yourself, Y/N."

'Oh no. Busted.' Thought the girl nervously looking at the camera. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and replied as calmly as she could: "Well, yes it's true, but I was in comms uploading. When I finished I left and that's when I found Rae in storage."

"It's her!" Seán accused.

"Definitely."

"What!?" Y/N asked shocked. "No, I'm not the imposter guys, I swear!"

"Y/N, stop, it makes perfect sense. I'm voting." She rolled her eyes, that is exactly why she wanted to kill Seán.

It was then that Corpse interrupted: "It couldn't have been her, she was with me."

'What?' Y/N asked herself, 'No, I wasn’t. What is he doing?'

"But... You said you were with Sykkuno."

"I... Yeah, but before that I was with her in Comms, but I left to go to the Security."

"And what path did you take?" Rae questioned.

"I went through storage, then electrical and I went up."

"That’s impossible because I went down the left side, and went through electrical and I didn't see you."

"They’re both the imposters, oh my god." Was Seáns revelation.

"No, we are not. What he said is true!" Y/N tried to defend.

"I'm going to vote Corpse this time just for his audacity!" Rae exclaimed excitedly. "Then we vote for Y/N!"

"What!?" Corpse said shocked. "No...!"

But it was too late, and quickly his little bean body flew off the ship. ‘Corpse was ejected.’

The girl could do nothing more than gawk at the computer screen, still shocked by what had happened. "No!" She said when she muted the microphone. "The game is already lost. What can I do?" She questioned, guilty.

User: Noooo! Poor Corpse.

User: He was defending her :(

User: It's her fault that they found out he was the other imposter.

Guilt weighed on Y/N's heart and she felt saddened. Why did she have to ruin everything? "I know, I'll apologize to him when I can." She whispered to the chat, quietly, running around with her character confusedly. "What do I do now? Do I kill someone or do I play innocent?"

But at that time a meeting was called by Seán who was camped by the emergency button, and everyone got together to speak.

"Yes?"

"Well, we already know who the other imposter is. Are we going to vote her out or not?" He said laughing.

"Guys, please don't, it’s not me."

"Sorry Y/N, but you're the only one sus right now."

"What about Leslie?” Y/N tried. “She left Poki in medbay, she could have gone to navigation, killed Lily, self-reported and said she was in weapons!"

"No, don't believe her!" Leslie shouted. “She’s lying.”

"I know it's Y/N, I'm going to vote for her!"

And one by one everyone voted, and the game was over.

"Good job guys, we did it." The others celebrated while the girl almost pouted.

"What happened, Corpse? I’ve never seen you like that, well, playing so badly I mean." Sykkuno questioned his friend timidly.

There was silence from Corpse for a moment, before he simply said. "I don’t know.”

Swallowing hard, Y/N spoke softly. "Corpse?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Ehh, don't be. That's alright."

But that was not enough to erase her guilt. "You know Seán this is exactly why I was gonna kill you in the electrical, before Rae found Felix's body. You always sus me out even when I’m innocent."

“But you were the imposter this time!”

After a new game where she quickly died (Seán was the one who broke her neck and left her body in admin), the girl was quick to open Discord and send a message to the deep-voiced boy, who as much - as she didn't want to admit it, even more to herself - was her crush.

Y/N: I’m so sorry I got you voted out, honestly, I feel so bad about it. I’m such a bad imposter.

CORPSE: Y/N, It’s fine, really. There’s no need for you to feel bad about it ♥.

This put a smile on the girl's face again, and her chat was quick to question what was going on. She shrugged her shoulders and gave no further answer, Y/N returned to concentrating on the game, with the corner of her lips lifted in a half smile that she couldn’t control.

♦⋅☆⋅♦

Time quickly passed full of fun for the ten friends, and the thousands of people who watched them. Y/N didn't win any of the rounds, but she didn't care about it anymore. After another hour of playing she decided to say goodbye and finish the stream, feeling the tiredness dominating her. She ate something and took a long and relaxing bath, which eased her aching muscles, and was already in her fluffy blue pajama pants, and was getting ready to go to bed when her phone rang.

Picking it up from the nightstand, she looked at the screen and gasped in surprise seeing who was facetiming her. A shiver ran down her spine. Shaking from head to toe, with her heart pounding, she quickly ran her hand through her hair making sure she was at least minimally presentable, before she answered it, saying nervously, "Hey, Corpse, is everything okay?"

The screen came to life, with her tiny image in the corner and the completely black screen dominating it. Of course he wouldn't turn on the camera, nor did she want him to do it if he didn't feel comfortable. It was already surprising that he actually called, since he has never done that before, and that was what made her even more nervous.

"I just wanted to check on you." His voice came through the phone.

That made her face heat up a little. She was thankful that the only light she had on was the lamp on her nightstand and he couldn’t see how red her face got.

"Cute pajamas by the way." He said while laughing a little bit, provoking her.

"Well, I would say the same thing, but I can't see anything." Y/N provoked back.

There was a comfortable silence after that, a silence that the two of them seemed afraid to try to break. The girl laid down on her bed, curled up under her warm sheets, and looked at the black screen kindly, with her head resting on the pillow.

"So-"

"I-" They both said at the same time, and immediately stopped talking when they realized that. “Go ahead-” “You first-” they once again said at the exact same time.

Y/N tried to speak. She really tried. She was so prepared to tell him the truth, to tell him how much she was into him, that she was in fact in love with him… She was prepared to say that meeting him, and having him in her life for the past few months was one of the best things that ever happened to her. Y/N was determined to speak, but when she tried, nothing came out. She stood there, opening and closing her mouth, sighing with a frown on her face.

"What's up?" Corpse asked seeing that, with concern in his voice.

"Nothing."

"Y/N, you know you can tell me anything."

"I know that." And she really did, Corpse was a good friend, an excellent friend who was always there for her... And that was exactly what she was afraid to ruin with her confession. "You are able to make me so nervous sometimes, even when I think I'm feeling brave."

"Oh, yeah?" He asked, and she could practically see his smile, even though she has never actually seen it. She was in love with a faceless man and she had no idea how to tell him that.

"Oh, shut up."

He laughed deeply for a long time, and that was enough to make her smile. Finally he stopped and said quietly, almost timidly. "I think what you wanted to say is exactly what I want to tell you."

Impossible, Y/N thought with a sad smile on her lips. I want to tell you how much I love you but… how could I? And who could ever love me?

"No, believe me, it isn't." “And how do you know it isn’t?” Y/N bit her lip a little unsure of how to answer him without revealing her feelings for him. “I-” But she cuts herself off, not having the courage to actually say the words. She pressed her face into the pillow to muffle the groan that came out of her mouth, at how much a coward she was being, but she mumbled out her response that was still muffled. “I just know.”

“What was that?” All he had heard were incoherent sounds.. She sighed, removing her face from the pillow not wanting to repeat what she had said, to save herself the rejection, since he couldn’t possibly feel the same way that she did about him.

“Are you really not going to tell me?” His voice broke through her thoughts. She sighed, trying to get away from the internal battle going on in her mind. “Y/N?” He spoke once again, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“If I say it... everything is gonna be ruined and weird for us, and I don’t want that. Your friendship is so important to me, you're my best friend.” She ran a hand down her face, furious with herself. “How do you know that, if you don’t say it?”

“Because I just do, okay?” Why couldn't he just let it go? "I-" She tried to say it out loud, once more. C'mon Y/N, just say it. "I gotta go!" She said quickly tried to end the call, but he wouldn't let her.

"No!" He screamed out sharply, taking her by surprise and then he did something she never thought he would do.

The screen, which was previously completely dark, lit up and his face finally appeared for the girl who loved him to see. Y/N sighed in shock, admiring all his features, from his ivory-white skin to his dark curly hair.

"I have a crush on you too." He confessed quietly, with a soft pink tinge appearing on his cheeks.

Did he just...? Oh my god!

There was silence again, but this time it was a silence that had become tense and terrifying for both of them. Corpse was nervous waiting for her to say something, and she could tell. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, he didn't seem able to face her as his gaze traveled anywhere but to her, and he fidgeted immensely, touching everything within reach from the rings - that she saw he had on his fingers - to the chain necklace he had around his neck.

"Oh." She sighed softly, not knowing what to say.

He looked at her then, apprehensive and almost ashamed. "Ugly, I know."

"No!" Y/N was quick to interrupt. "You are incredibly handsome just… just as I always imagined." The girl managed to see a small smile appear on his lips as he blushed deeply.

"I..."

"I’m in love with you too." She confessed, finally without fear. It felt like weight lifted off her to finally get it out in the open between the two of them.

Corpse’s eyes went wide, completely shocked but so, so happy. A huge smile full of shiny teeth on his face, as he focused all of his attention on Y/N. "You are?"

"Yes." She said blushing and smiling intensely as she snuggled up in the blankets, her face almost hidden when she looked at him dreamily.

"I-" He cleared his throat. "Good."

"Good."

"Great."

"Great!"

They burst out laughing, their voices mixing in hamornia. The two looked each other in the eye, separated by a mobile phone screen, separated by kilometers and kilometers... but even with everything that separated them, the world was not able to stop them from falling in love with each other.

"What do we do now?" He questioned.

"Well..." Y/N started. "We'll have to see, won't we? Why don't you start by giving me your address?"

Corpse smiled provocatively, his beautiful eyes shining maliciously. "Of course... But be careful now baby, the devil’s got his eyes on you."

Y/N laughed completely in love.

"Oh, shut up."

♦⋅☆⋅♦ Tag List: @breathygasps

#corpse husband #Corpse Husband Fandom #Corpse Fandom #corpse fanfiction #fanfiction #imagines #one-shot #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband oneshot #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n

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4rainynite · 3 years

Text

Infinity Train Headcanons

Just a bunch of Infinity Train headcanons I've come up with, I'm only doing five per character so it won't too long. I'm mainly gonna focus on the passenger characters and do the denizens later on. Majority of them have been posted on @infinity-train-headcanons already (awesome blog by the way), but whatever here we go:

Tulip

The reason Tulip loves onions so much is because when her mother was pregnant she craved onions a lot. Mrs. Olsen thinks onions are okay at best, but Tulip loves them.

Tulip is fairly athletic (that explains why she could do all those stunts on the train), but prefers gaming and coding. Her classmates that are on sports teams are greatly annoyed that she won't join.

Despite Lake being gone she can still take pictures of herself on cameras or through a selfie (and sometimes see herself in water), because those are images not reflections.

Tulip would so adopt a corgi and name him “Atticus the 2nd” and put miniature crowns on him.

When Tulip goes to Oshkosh she'll based her game on her adventures on the train. Not only will it be super popular, but some of the other campers and counselors will suggest some cars because some of them were passengers as well.

Lake

After, Lake left she accidently started a revolution in the Chrome Car. In the end (in a future fanfic of mine) there will be peace and Lake and a certain group of passengers will help.

Lake won't be able to start school immediately (due to Tulip being in middle school and Jesse being in high school) , but she is able to do homeschooling. Come next school year she'll be at school with Jesse

Lake lives in the Cosay's attic. They've tried to convince her/him/them (other pronouns) to take the guest room, but Lake's cool with it. Mainly, because she/he/they gets a view of the lake she/he/ they named themselves after.

Lake is super into art! It's mainly abstract and black, but she loves it! The problem is Jesse's parents have to buy the spray paint for her.

Lake loves traveling to new places and Jesse brings her/him/them along when the swim team travels to different places.

Jesse

After, the train Jesse decides to join theatre class/club. He mainly gets background or understudy parts, but he loves to sing.

Is a Chicken Choice Judy fan and gets Lake and Nate into them. Jesse and Lake theorize that Chicken Choice Judy were passengers at one point.

Jesse becomes closer with his swim team to be friends, he is currently co-captain.

Jesse really misses Alan Dracula, so, Lake got him one of those deer plushies as a gift. Jesse put glasses on it and named it Alan Dracula the Second and Cuddliest.

Jesse always picks vampire movies during movie night at the Cosay house. I believe he really likes vampires .

Grace

Grace's parents so would've sent her to boarding school after the shoplifting thing instead of just talking to her.

Grace will be the last former Apex member to leave the train due to her number still being high. In the meantime she still helps passengers lower their numbers.

There is no way Grace was the only person to form a cult on the Infinity Train. Grace's was just the longest surviving one of eight years, I won't explain why Grace's was the longest due to... cult stuff.

Grace rarely got to see her maternal grandparents, due to her mother wanting to reject her low-class upbringing. From what little memories she had, Grace misses them.

Grace regrets what she put Hazel through and wants her back, but she knows her leaving was for the best no matter how much it hurts.

Hazel

I don't know why but I see Hazel as a vegetarian.

When Tuba found her she was a baby, not a baby turtle, a baby- baby.

She and Amelia will be close, but will never have a true mother - daughter relationship. I know Amelia is trying to get better, but she admitted she's not a caretaker.

She'll sing Tuba's Lullaby to comfort herself in stressful situations and whenever she feels she'll forget her.

Hazel will be adopted by Ryan and Min-Gi when she gets off the train and Tulip, Lake, Jesse, and Nate will be like siblings to her. Okay, okay, okay, I know that's a very long shot, but Hazel deserves happiness!

Simon

Was a boy scout or took a survival class, I mean how else would he know about frostbite in Le Chat Chalet Car.

Probably went to way too many funerals as a child. I'm going by what he said to Hazel about neighbors brining casseroles.

Simon would get into fights with his teachers and classmates about being right about every little thing, even as a he was a narcissist.

Simon so had a crush on Grace way before their 'awkward middle school kiss' . After, Grace's betrayal whatever feelings he had were gone.

Was a fantasy nerd and wanted to be a fantasy writer. His trilogy book would've had his character based off himself being made a king.

Ryan

Ryan and his youngest brother are the only two in their family who wear glasses.

Is still on good terms with his ex-girlfriends (Disco Girl, Punk Girl, and Hippie Girl). Yeah, they broke up, but Ryan wasn't their worse ex and was nice to them. They love telling Min-Gi embarrassing dating stories.

He most likely had suicidal thoughts, once off the train he tells Min-Gi and gets help through therapy.

Despite not gaining attention during his solo gigs he did make a friend or two during his stops like the lesbian couple at the party in the Twin Tapes. Which helps spread Chicken Choice Judy's music.

Ryan is very strong despite his scrawny appearance, due to carrying equipment, changing tires, and other heavy lifting activities.

Min-Gi

Was diagnosed with dyslexia at an early age. His parents worried this would hamper him so they would hire a tutor after school when he wasn't playing with Ryan.

Is a really good cook, but his main specialties are Korean dishes (his mother taught him) and breakfast food (working at Dumpty's Diner).

Has an artistic side, but rarely used it except for the Chicken Choice Judy t-shirt. Later on he designs the covers for CCJ's CDs.

He most likely has a bunch of older cousins. I think Mr. and Mrs. Parks had Min-Gi late, so he's the baby of the cousins.

To me Min-Gi never shown in interest in dating or romance. His parents tried to set him up a few of their co-workers' daughters, but nothing ever happened afterwards. He does love Ryan though.

Amelia

I believe Amelia will get off the train, but when she does majority of her friends and family and friends will be gone and will return to the train.

Amelia will allow Hazel to play with the denizens while she works on the train. She may not be a caretaker, but she remembers being a child and children need to have fun.

I think Amelia was jealous of Min-Gi and Ryan, since the two remind her of Alrick and herself in their youth and what could've been if he lived. She dubs them 'Destiny Rubbish Duet'.

Amelia would monitor the Snow Car frequently to make sure One would never leave or any passengers interacted with him. But, the one time in thirty years she set her clock on the wrong time to wake up, allowing Tulip to find One-One.

The day Amelia picked out her wedding dress was the same day she got the news of Alrick's passing.

Well, that was a long post. I may do more in the future, so I'll just end it here.

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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

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ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 33

Sorry this got delayed for longer than expected. I had a lot of things hit me like a truck (and distractions). Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it.

(Master Post)

_______________________________________________________________________

Nathalie cautiously walked into the school, careful to not stand out. She needed to be quick and quiet, she didn’t know how many akuma were lurking in the building. Hawkmoth has akumatized a good chunk of the student body at this school, so expecting at least a dozen within such a short time frame wouldn’t be out of the question. She was relieved that the akuma alert hasn't gone off, which means no one has caught on yet.

The assistant moved down the hall, stopping once she noticed two akuma heading down the hall. One she recognized as the akuma dark owl, and the other as Lady wifi. Both akuma wearing masks that covered their faces. It was clearly the handiwork of Masquerade. She quickly moved into the nearest room to hide.

“That was close.” Nathalie whispered.

“What was?” a voice from behind her called out. Causing the on edge assistant to jump.

She looked to see it was not an akuma, but an adult with a perplexed expression.

“Nothing, what room is this?”

“This is the nurse’s office, I’m Nurse Angela. How can I help you?”

Nathalie took a sigh of relief. Seems that the nurse hasn’t noticed the akumatized individuals in the hall. Which means that no one has figured out there are akuma active.

“I am fine, I simply stepped into the wrong room.” Nathalie eased herself. “Could you tell me which way Ms. Bustier’s classroom is?”

“Oh its down the hall, make a left and it’s the last classroom on the...”

“Nurse! My ice pack melted!”

The nurse took a calming sigh.

“One moment ma’am. I have a student in here.”

Angela quickly moved to fetch more ice for her patient to help her out.

“Chloé?” Nathalie spoke aloud, recognizing the voice.

Nathalie moved into the room and took notice of the mayor’s daughter watch the nurse impatiently as she waited for a fresh icepack.

“Wait, your Gabriel Agreste’s assistant. Natasha.”

“Nathalie.” The assistant corrected, clearly annoyed.

“Why are you here? Does Adrien have some photoshoot or something?”

“Or something. Now why are you in here?”

The question struck a nerve with the blonde, causing her annoyance to turn into anger.

“Better question, how could you allow Adrien to date that loser!?”

Nathalie blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“She is going to bring down the Gabriel brand. That nobody has no right to be dating Adrien. Does his father know about this?”

Nathalie felt a twinge of annoyance. But kept it in. She remembered the akuma that were out in the hallway. She would hate to have them run in here just from the commotion.

“I think you should keep it down. This is not an issue that concerns you.”

“Doesn’t concern me?! I am Adrien’s childhood friend. You bet your poor dye job it concerns me!”

“I must insist you be quiet.” Nathalie repeats. “This is not the time or the place for such meaningless complaints.”

“Like I am going to listen to Gabriel Agreste’s rebound chick.”

That caused Nathalie to snap.

“Listen here you spoiled brat! There are akuma running the halls and I am trying to find Adrien to get him out of here before things get worse. If you don’t shut your mouth in the next two seconds. I will throw you out there and let them tear you apart!”

Chloé felt her eyes go wide at the out of nowhere outburst. It took her a second to process what just happened. Did she really get told off by this nobody?

“You can’t just…”

Nathalie suddenly fell to the floor. She barely used her hands to catch herself.

“S***, not now.” She mumbled over gasping breathes. Her body was failing on her again. She did not need this of all times. She felt her consciousness fade.

The nurse turned around once she heard the sudden thud.

“Oh dear.”

She rushed to the collapsed woman’s side and helped her up.

“Chloé. Help me get her onto the bed.”

“You want me to…”

“This is not the time for questions! Help me get her on the bed now!” Angela commanded.

Chloé’s protests were snuffed out by the nurse and she moved to help get the woman on the bed.

The nurse quickly checked her for a pulse. Thankfully she had one.

“Okay, she has a pulse. She is breathing, but her body just collapsed. A fainting spell?”

Angela started checking the assistant to make sure there was nothing else wrong.

Chloé watched as the nurse examined Nathalie. Her previous anger fading as she sees the woman that just snapped at her just drop.

“Okay… seems that it is over exhaustion. It’s not uncommon in people who work long hours with demanding jobs. But I have never seen a case like this. I can’t put my finger on it, but there might be another medical issue involved in this. When she wakes up, she should get checked into a hospital for a deeper dive into whatever she has.” Angela explained.

“So… she will be alright?”

“Well she is exhausted. She will need to rest for a bit.”

“Well at least she didn’t die. I can still be mad at her for yelling at me because there is an akuma and junk here.”

“Well you shouldn’t hold a… did you just say there is an akuma?”

“That’s what she was yelling at me about before. Weren’t you listening?”

Angela felt herself go pale.

“Oh that is not good at all. We need to alert the authorities.”

Chloé picked up her phone and started texting.

“Don’t you think you should use that to call the cops.”

“Im texting my dad. He will have the cops here faster.”

Angela remembered that the annoying spoiled blonde in front of her was the mayor’s daughter and for the first time, was happy that the girl was here.

_______________________________________________________________________

For what is a teen, but a pile of hormones and insecurities.

Masquerade delighted as she watched her classmates stare at her. They all were trying so hard to be strong, but she could feel their emotions, they were afraid. She knew that taking the most emotionally secure one in the group would rattle them..

She noticed the teens rushing to their pockets to get their phones.

Masquerade touched the cellphone charm on her bracelet and all of the phones started showing they had no signal.

“Nice try, but no calling for help.” Masquerade commented.

Even the chill Nino couldn’t maintain a steady calm in front of her with that little display. She now removed any chance of calling for help or setting off that akuma alert system. Did she have access to other powers? What kind of monster did Hawkmoth turn her into?

“I’ll save you for last Nino. I want you to watch closely.” She flipped her hair, taunting the cap wearing teen.

The masked theme akuma smiled as she moved her hand, as if deciding on who would turn next.

“Now we know who will be last, but who will be next?” Masquerade asked, watching as her bracelet was glowing. The class was a gold mine of akumas. It was not a matter of how, it was a matter of which one.

“You don’t have to do this Lila.” A soft higher pitched voice pleaded.

The class turned their attention the short haired blond with a fondness for pink.

“Rose…” Juleka spoke up in worry.

Masquerade focused her attention on Rose.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“We know you are hurting. We know that you lied to us and did some nasty things… but that doesn’t have to define you!”

Masquerade found herself a bit surprised at the statement.

“If you are willing to stop all of this, we can help you. We can work through all of the things you’ve done. If we can throw a party for Chloé, we can certainly give you another chance.”

Rose stuck out her hand, a soft smile on her face.

Masquerade took a moment to process before speaking.

“Wow… I had no idea you felt this way.”

Rose walked forward.

“See Lila, we can all get along if…”

“You’re so incredibly depressing.”

Rose stopped.

Masquerade’s mouth contorted to a twisted glee. Her charm bracelet glowing brightly as she held her hand up to Rose.

“You always force a smile even when things are downright miserable. You’re terrified of being sad, so you paint this image of a fantasy land filled with stuffed animals and storybook characters. You realize all of the awful things around you yet you simply push it back, push it away as if it can’t harm you if you don’t acknowledge it. You can’t even acknowledge the emotional problems and insecurities of the people you care about because you know you can’t help them even if you did address them, so you give them some encouraging saccharine speech about pushing through, because that’s all you can really do. I have never seen anyone so deep in denial. One day you will wake up and realize that all of that delusional thinking will have pushed everyone away from you as you sit in plushy made prison of your own design.”

Rose felt her lip quiver.

“N-No. That isn’t true. I can …” Rose stumbled over her words.

But before she could say anymore, a mask flung onto her face and Rose shifted into Princess Fragrance, the green skinned perfume super villainess.

“Rose! No!” Juleka cried out.

Masquerade grinned as a perfume bottle charm now adorned her bracelet.

Juleka tried to get the mask off of Rose, but the newly made akuma pushed her aside and jumped to her master’s side.

“Oh, poor Juleka. Don’t worry. I’ll have you join her.”

Masquerade pointed her hand at Juleka.

“Oh wow, social anxiety and a fear of being forgotten. How original. Is that why you dye your hair purple and wear those gaudy clothes? You want to stand out so that you don’t get dismissed like the wallflower you are? Your bad luck with photos really puts a damper on your dreams of modeling. But that’s probably for the best, considering you are constantly overwhelmed. You don’t have the guts to do anything you want, so you just do your best to keep quiet and pray people will still notice and care about you.”

Juleka felt her anger shift to sorrow as she tried to speak up, but sure enough. Masquerade sends another mask out and it makes contact with Juleka.

The purple haired teen shifts into the image replicating akuma, Reflekta. Who after changing moved next to Princess Fragrance. A compact mirror charm appears on Masquerade’s bracelet.

The class couldn’t help but feel the despair in the room. The large drummer tried to keep his small girlfriend behind him as a means to protect her, but unfortunately, Masquerade noticed.

“Oh Ivan, sweet misunderstood Ivan.” Masquerade taunted. “You really think I don’t see what you are trying to do.”

Ivan kept his eyes focused.

“You aren’t turning me into one of your monsters. You already turned my bandmates into them, you aren’t turning me!”

The akuma laughed.

“Monster? I don’t need to turn you into an akuma to do that. The rest of the world already sees you as one.”

Ivan felt a pang in his heart.

“No… no they don’t.”

“Even your own girlfriend is scared of you. You’re a big brute that is loud and bumbling. Ever since your growth spurt, you could see everyone look at you differently, like you were some kind of large freak. But what’s worse is that you’re afraid that everyone else is right. That you a large rage filled monster, undeserving of love.”

“Don’t listen to her. She is lying to you.” Myléne pleaded as she tried to pull her boyfriend out of the quicksand trap of emotion that the akuma was setting up.

“I am not a monster.” Ivan spoke, more to himself than to masquerade.

The akuma capitalized on that moment of weakness and a mask made its way to Ivan, transforming him into his stone giant akuma form, Stoneheart.

Myléne looked in horror of her akumatized boyfriend and took a few steps back. Her fear of remembering this form taking hold.

“Oh, that works too.”

Masquerade flings a mask at Myléne, transforming her into her more monstrous akuma form, Horrificator.

“I was planning on playing on her fears about how she is afraid to face the real world and her insecurities about losing Ivan, but that worked better.”

The two new akuma mindlessly made their way to Masquerade’s side. A piece of paper and a button charm appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet.

The joy the akuma attained from watching her classmates squirm was unnerving. And it was only going to continue.

_______________________________________________________________________

“So, you are certain you left it there Kagami?” a woman with a cane asked sternly.

“Yes mother, I remember I left my text book in the locker room during fencing practice. I was studying between breaks.” Kagami answered. She felt a bit ashamed she had misplaced her book. But was relieved her mother was fine with giving her a ride there to get it. Even if it meant she was late to her lessons.

“This is not an excuse to see anyone, is it?” Her mother questioned.

“No mother, I will be in and out quickly.”

“Very well. I need to make a quick stop at the bank. So be sure to be outside waiting when I come back.”

“Yes mother.”

Kagami got out of the car and the car drove off.

“Well, I could stop by to say hello to my friends if I am quick with getting my book.” Kagami smiled a bit as she was about to make her way into Collège Françoise Dupont.

But before she did, she heard the sound of a bike approaching, she turned to see the cyclist stop short of her.

“Made it.” He said with relief as he took off his helmet to reveal familiar blue dyed hair.

“Luka?”

The cyclist looked and noticed his new fencer friend.

“Kagami? What brings you here? I thought you didn’t go to this school.”

“I don’t, I come here for fencing practice, I left a textbook here and was planning on retrieving it. You don’t go to this school either. So what brings you here?”

“My little sis grabbed the wrong lunch bag, then texted something about an akuma being in the school. I wasn't able to reach her after that. I plan on getting her out and letting the heroes handle the akuma.”

Kagami blinked.

“There is an akuma?”

“Apparently.”

The fencer smiled.

“Alright, let’s get in and try to evacuate everyone. Then I can grab my book.”

Luka looked at the determined girl and smiled. He didn’t even say he would help her. But he knew he would.

“So, what’s the plan?”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Adrien stared down the Volpina duplicate. He was not going to let it pass him and get to Marinette. He realizes that if he had been the one to run off, he would have been able to transform quick. If this didn’t work out, Ladybug might have to take on Lila solo, and that was something he was worried about. If Ladybug is on her own and she gets overwhelmed, who would be able to protect Paris? He needed to figure a way to give this Faux Fox the slip and fast.

“It would have been better if I snagged both of you, but master will be more than happy with your capture.” The sentimonster smiled as it moved to grab him.

The blond jumped back, but the difference in speed was far too great for him to overcome. And he was quickly pinned against a wall. The sentimonster shifted forms, looking similar to the owl akuma that Adrien was familiar with.

“What the…”

“I am not bound to one form. I can shift my form and access to any akuma’s power set that my master has under her control.”

Adrien realized he was far outmatched. If it came to it, he would need to transform. He wished there was some way out of this mess.

But as if the heavens above heard him, a yo-yo wrapped around the waist of the buff owl.

“What the ...”

The sudden pull from the yo-yo made the sentimonster lose it’s grip on Adrien and get flung to the other wall, dazing it.

“Looks like I made it just in time.” A spotted heroine stated with confidence.

“Ladybug!” Adrien called out in relief.

Ladybug rushed to his side.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m a lot better now.”

Ladybug helped the teen up from the ground.

“Lets’ get you somewhere safe first, handsome boy.”

The blond felt his cheeks turn red at the comment.

The sentimonster managed to get back up, it shifted forms, to a smaller form. One that made ladybug experience a chill go down her spine as she saw the roller blades and familiar helmet.

“Timebreaker… We need to hurry!”

Ladybug started rushing with the teen. With the speed of the akuma, she knew Adrien wouldn’t be fast enough to avoid it on his own. So, she quickly picked him up in her arms as they fled.

“Timebreaker? But isn’t that what Alix turned into when she was akumatized.” Adrien inquired as Ladybug ran down the hallway.

“It means that things are getting a lot more dangerous.” Ladybug answered. She knew that timebreaker appearing could only mean that Lila has made her way to the classroom, and this was going to be one of the toughest akuma battles yet. She needed to get Adrien to safety and then make her way to the classroom, hopefully save her classmates before they were all turned into her masked servants.

She made a quick movement into the bathroom. Standing at the door, prepared to fight the akuma if it noticed their quick duck into the washroom.

Ladybug listened closely as she heard the sound of skates roll up to the door. Her eyes went wide as she realized the it figured it out.

“You really think you can hide from me!”

The Timebreaker imposter kicked in the door ready to attack, only to see no one was in the room.

“Like I said….”

“You!” Kicked the first stall door open.

“CANT!” The second stall was kicked open.

“HIDE!” The last one was open, and all of them were empty.

The sentimonster growled in frustration.

“Seems I was mistaken.” The sentimonster grumbles, skating off to find the two.

As the door closes, Ladybug and Adrien sigh in relief. They had taken to hiding over the small statured sentimonster’s line of sight. Ladybug;s yo-yo making for a secure web to hold them up.

Ladybug undid the secure snare and lowered them both to the floor.

“Thanks for the save Ladybug.” The blond smiled. His face a bit red being so close to Ladybug.

‘Easy there Adrien! Remember who you are dating now!’ He mentally told himself.

“N-no problem.” Ladybug smiled sweetly. “Now, you stay hidden and I will take care of this crazy shapeshifter.

“Wait Ladybug!”

Ladybug paused.

“Yes? Is there something…”

“My girlfriend is out there. Well I mean… dating since we didn’t officially say girlfriend and… Look She is out there and that akuma thing is also after her.”

Ladybug’s eyes went wide at that statement.

He called me his girlfriend! Inner marinette screamed. Inside her head, but Ladybug kept her face from showing it. Though a small smile was growing despite herself.

“So the akuma is targeting someone else? Why wasn’t she with you?”

“She went to get help, I was trying to hold off the akuma so she could escape. The akuma was more focused on me thankfully, and you showed up just in time.”

“Oh? And who is the Lucky girl?” Ladybug questioned, a bit bubbly but doing her best to hide it.

“Her name is Marinette, she is around your height and she has these cute …”

“No need for more description, I know her. Well, she is a cute one. Aren’t you lucky?” Ladybug teased a bit.

“I really am.” He smiled sweetly. He remembers that Ladybug did pick Marinette to be a temporary hero, so she should know who she is. Though he isn’t supposed to know that.

Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your ‘girlfriend’ is safe. I’ll also be sure to tell her you were worried as well. She will be happy to hear that.”

Adrien felt himself in a bit of a bizarre situation, was ladybug helping him by being a wingwoman for him? He couldn’t help but find it a mix of ironic and funny.

Ladybug rushed out of the bathroom, realizing that chat noir was rubbing off on her a bit, teasing Adrien like that.

“He called me his girlfriend.” She smiled as she thought this to herself. Though she knew the task at hand was important and would dwell on this happiness much later.

Adrien watched as she ran off, feeling a bit flustered.

“Really needed to let her know you were off the market now.” A voice from his pocket teased.

“I panicked.” Adrien felt his face flush.

“Seemed Ladybug was happy for you. That’s good.” The cat kwami popped out of his pocket. Hiding the fact, he knew a lot more than he let on.

“We do have more important things to worry about. We have an akuma and sentimonster to stop. “

Adrien punched his fist out.

“Plagg. Claws out!”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Masquerade laughed, loving how she was turning everything back on her classmates.

When something smacked into her head.

“Ugh!” She grunted as she grabbed the metal object that flung into her.

“What the hell?!” Masquerade’s eyes focused to see it was Max’s ai companion, Markov that head-butted her.

“Your actions have far exceeded what is acceptable.” The robot responded.

“Markov get away from her. She will akumatize you!” Max called out in worry.

“Akumatize the toaster? How could I akumatize…” Masquerade muttered until she noticed her bracelet glowing.

“Oh, you have got to be f***ing kidding me. You akumatized a sentient rice cooker but not Marinette?! The f*** hawkmoth!?”

“I will have you know that I am an advanced artificial intelligence.”

“And you despise that.” Masquerade points out.

“Quite the contrary, I find my intellect exhilarating.”

“But you already calculated it, the two logical conclusions. That you will either become obsolete and be tossed out for a newer model, or you will advance and grow until you outlive Max.”

Markov paused. He could not come up with a response. The robot felt stumped byt the statement.

“Too easy.”

“Markov!’ Max cried out as a mask landed over his visual face plate. Shifting him into his angry red coated akuma form, Robostus.

Max moved to get to his robot. But Kim held him back.

“It’s too late man.”

Max growled at the akuma.

“Damn it Lila, why are you doing this? You must know that Ladybug and Chat noir will arrive ready to stop you. The chances of you beating them are 0%.”

Masquerade lifted her hand as her bracelet began glowing again.

“Oh. smarty pants Max, the one with all the formulas and the data. You have to be the smartest one in the room or else you have nothing.”

“I know what you are trying to do. It won’t work.”

“Out of everyone here, you have the biggest inferiority complex. Your need to be the best at what your ‘good’ at. Robotics, video games, data analysis, and of course, calculations. You need to show to everyone how smart and skilled you are, because the moment you don’t, they realize there is no personality underneath.”

Max tried to focus on not letting the words get to him, but Masquerade knew exactly what to say to cut him down.

“Go on Max, tell them how to ‘Beat’ my power. Or do you not know?”

Max felt his lip quiver, he couldn’t stay strong. He didn’t know how to beat it. He could feel the horror of not knowing slip into his mind. She had nailed his insecurities like an expert marksman.

“I thought so.”

A mask flew and smacked onto Max’s face. He dropped to the floor only to get up in a black and green spandex suit, His akumatized form, The Gamer.

A game controller charm appeared on her bracelet.

A sudden squeak caught her attention.

Masquerade turned her head to see an orange haired girl trying to sneak away.

“Sabrina, I had forgotten you were here. Just like everyone else usually does.”

Masquerade was about to really lay into her, but a book out of nowhere smacked her in the face.

It was the athletic dare maker himself, Kim.

“I am done sitting around and letting you turn everyone into masked zombies.” Kim exclaimed.

Nino felt himself zone back in as Kim called it out. Now was not the time to lose his head. He needed to focus. Masquerade didn’t mention Adrien, so maybe his best bro was still out there. Maybe they can get to the heroes and have them fix this. But first, he needed to escape.

“Kim’s right. We won’t let you turn anyone else anymore. Sabrina get help!” Nino exclaimed.

“Like she is going to… HEY!”

A waste basket covered the villainess as she stumbled back, with the basket stuck to her head. While she had been too busy gloating, she had failed to notice the tomato haired artist sneak behind her and the mindless akuma line up. He had slammed it on as hard as he could to ensure it was difficult to remove.

“Let’s Go!” Nino announced as the rest of the class rushed to the door. Time breaker being the only one actively ordered prepared to stop them.

“Don’t let her touch you.” Sabrina spoke as they tried to figure.

Kim grabbed a chair and used it like a make shift battering ram in order to keep Timebreaker at a distance, but the akuma reacted quickly by pulling the chair away and kicking the teen in the gut with her roller blade. Sending him flying back into the other teens.

“Ugh! That really was gross!” Masquerade retched as she pulled the waste bucket off her head.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your little escape attempt. Because you won’t get another chance.”

Masquerade pointed at Kim.

“Since you started this little thing. I will change you next.”

Kim looked at the Akuma with a smile.

“Good luck with that. You don’t have anything that could make me feel gloomy.”

Masquerade’s bracelet started glowing again. She was clearly ready to speak, but stopped herself.

“… Wait.. THAT’s your biggest insecurity?”

“I don’t have an insecurity.”

“You are afraid everyone will realize you’re not smart.”

“What? No, I am not. I am plenty smart. I watch the Alternate Truth all the time.”

“Everyone already knows you’re an idiot.”

Kim looked at the akuma with shock.

“That’s not true! People do think I’m smart. Chloé has called me ‘Genius’ multiple times.”

Masquerade didn’t know how to respond to this.

“I… do you not know what sarcasm is?”

“Of course, I do.” Kim lied.

“Just … just wear the mask you moron.”

Masquerade sends a mask to attach to Kim.

The swimmer did his best to resist but felt himself succumb to the mask and become the dark winged akuma, Dark Cupid. He joined the rest of the akuma in the lineup, and a bow and arrow charm appeared on Masquerade’s charm bracelet.

“I actually feel dumber because of those last few minutes. Okay next one.”

Masquerade points at the Artist.

“Let’s bring the mood back with you Nathaniel, what is your biggest insecurity?”

“Listen Lila, there is still a chance to stop what you’re doing.”

“You’re afraid of opening yourself up to others. That’s the reason you didn’t want to join Soulmate searcher despite Marc’s insistence. You were afraid of putting out all that information on yourself and seeing that you and Marc aren’t meant for each other. You can only express yourself with art. And you know that it’s only a matter of time before he realizes your issues and leaves.”

Nathaniel wanted to dispute the statement, but felt his words die in his mouth.

“Such a pity Nathaniel, I’ll make sure to go after him once we are done here.”

“No! Don’t you…”

Nathaniel tried to say more, but a mask latching onto his face interrupted him.

The artist transformed into his heroic yet villainess akuma form, Evillustrator. Just like the others, the recent akuma joined the line.

A tablet pen charm appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet.

“And next up is Sabrina. I was interrupted earlier. But don’t worry. I have everything I need to get you.”

Sabrina tried to put on a brave face and covering her ears.

“Oh, you think It won’t work if you cant hear me.”

Masquerade’s bracelet glows.

“You don’t get it Sabrina, I am not just saying mean words, I am reading your greatest insecurities. And I am projecting them out.”

Sabrina could hear Masquerade’s words, as if they were in her mind. She couldn’t escape them. Her hands dropped.

“Very good. You learned how futile it is. It’s rare that you have someone’s attention like this. You always never stood out much, but you never minded that, your biggest insecurity is that no one will want to spend time with you. That’s why even with Chloé being mean and nasty, you like the fact that someone is willing to talk to you. You would accept humiliation and embarrassment over being alone. It’s truly pathetic.”

Sabrina felt tear stream down her face.

“Sabrina don’t let her get to you…”

“Im sorry. I don’t want to be alone.”

The mask flew onto Sabrina’s face. But something happened. She wasn’t changing right away.

“What’s this?” Masquerade commented.

“It seems you have more than one akumatizable form? Alya had something similar, but I was ‘missing something’ to access the other one so I didn’t bother with that. But this is different.”

Masquerade felt a malicious glee take hold.

“Why not give you both.”

Nino watched as the masked Sabrina shifted into a costume that looked familiar to him. The power stealing Miracular.

But suddenly, she vanished from his sight. Only to then appear with the other akuma.

“Invisibility and power stealing. Sabrina you maybe my favorite servant yet.” Masquerade exclaimed. Two charms appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet, vanishing cream and a tonfa.

Nino took a look at the line up of akuma.

“Dude… this is so not cool.”

Masquerade started to walk towards the DJ with a confident stride, stopping short, looking down at him. An aura of malice emanating from her presence.

“Don’t worry Nino. You’ll be joining them.”

_______________________________________________________________________

(End of Chapter)

So all the pieces are coming together. Will Nathalie be okay in a school filled with akuma? Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to fight the army of akumatized classmates that Masquerade has been building? Will Kagami be able to get her text book. Will Kim learn that everyone loves him because he is a himbo? Find out by staying tuned.

Thanks for reading and be sure to comment if you want to see the next part. I am an author and live off validation.

516 notes · View notes

wasbangtanhome · 3 years

Text

late, late, late | KSJ

banner made by bangtanhome! (me)

Summary: Is he late? Yes. Were you mad? Yes. Was it a special day? Yes, yes, yes! You had everything prepared and you just wanted your boyfriend to come home. Now.

Pairing: Office worker!Kim Seokjin x F(Reader) | also kind of dom!Jin

Warning: 18+. Smut in the form of: pwp, provocative dress, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it hehe), oral sex (M receiving), fingering, use of the word "slut", cumming inside, impact play (ass and pussy). also he used the L word.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author's note: Short and sweet to start off my journey here on tumblr!! I hope you enjoy it and to please please let me know about any improvements. I worked really hard on it! Also my first smut fic! Also, also, there are not a lot of pet names ever since I saw the post about what Namjoon, Jungkook, Jimin, and Jin would call their lover. I got super sappy.

From the kitchen window, you have a clear view of the entrance leading to your apartment that you share with your boyfriend. The sun has set and it's well past dinner time but you have yet to see his face walking up the steps, blowing a kiss at your general direction.

You chew the inside of your cheek. He's late, you thought, peering out the window for the nth time while drying the dishes. You can't help but worry. Seokjin usually calls if he picked up an extra shift, but your phone has yet to move.

Today marks a year of the two of you living together. The year hasn't treated you kindly. A while back, your company had some budget cuts. Your department was abolished and unlike the lucky coworkers that were transferred, you were a part of the handful that received severance pay.

You figured going back to work would be easy, especially with your qualifications. However, you have yet to get a call from any of the places you applied to. With you unable to work, you spend your days maintaining the apartment. Your boyfriend, his smile ever present, told you he would just have to take more shifts.

‘You know, ______, housework is really hard to do,’ he remarked. ‘Besides, I make more than enough money to support us both.’

You smiled at your boyfriend then. It was true, there wasn’t really a need for you to go to work. You eased up on your stress over not finding work and dutifully cleaned the apartment.

You trudged your way to the entrance of the apartment. Head resting on the front door before unlocking it with your key. Seokjin was drinking tea by the window sill, looking as ethereal as ever. He noticed you had entered the apartment, smiling lovingly at you.

Before he had a chance to say hello, you broke the news about what happened during work. Instantly, your boyfriend came towards you, his smile faltering as he saw the state you were in. The fatigue in your bones left you slumped on the ground.

Seokjin did not say a word, opted to close and lock the door behind you before sinking to his knees to meet you at eye level.

‘Hey,’ he murmured softly. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

He nudged your shoulder and you fell to his embrace. This was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You whimper softly as you seize his dress shirt, hot tears falling on his dress shirt, turning the color a shade darker than it was. Your knuckles turned white as your chest rose and fell rapidly, ragged breathing moaning the loss. And yet, your Seokjin rubbed circles on your back soothingly, hugging you tightly, not saying a word.

‘Sorry,’ you remembered mumbling as the coil in your stomach loosened.

‘Don’t be sorry, _____, there’s no reason for you too,’ he whispered back.

Silence fell before he piped up. ‘What do you call a bike that can’t stand on its own?’ he waggled his eyebrows when you looked at him, confused at what he’s saying. It took you a good moment to know that he was joking.

‘Two-tired!’ he exclaimed, laughing at his own joke. You smiled at your lover and before long, laughed along with him; his joy infecting your sadness.

He took out his handkerchief, wiping the streaks of tears away and giving it to you. At his gesture, you snickered before dissolving once more into tears. He had fretted then, worried that he had done something wrong.

‘I’m so lucky,’ you mumbled in tears. ‘Lucky to have you as my boyfriend, Kim Seokjin.’

He smiled softly at your comment, proceeded to pull you in his lap. ‘So, what do you want to do now?’

‘Easy,’ you sniffled, plastering a smile on your face. ‘We order fried chicken and drink!’

Seokjin had looked at you funny, surprised to hear you crave alcohol. Your smile was infectious and he ruffled your hair to agree. ‘That’s my girl!’ he exclaimed. ‘Let’s find you an even better paying job, okay?’

He was so enthusiastic, making the tragedy that happened to you that day seem so… trivial. You got drunk that night, your body not used to the alcohol.

You smile softly at the memory that happened after, your boyfriend’s hair stuck to his face, panting heavily as you came all over him. You try to push the memory away, focusing instead on your task at hand, but the damage was done- you're wet.

You chew on your bottom lip, hands traveling lower, touching your folds.

I’ll just start without him.Something nagged at your brain, and as your fingers sought out your clit, you realize how unsatisfying it would be without your boyfriend coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you.

You moan, anticipation and desperation threatening to consume you. Distracting yourself, you went through your mental checklist again. Skimpy apron? Check. Food? It’s cold because it’s been in the fridge, but check. The line that you’ve been practicing for the past few months to win over your boyfriend? Check, check, and check.

You glance again and the parking lot was empty now, its residents taking space in their respective homes. No sign of Seokjin.

You huff, grabbing your phone and pressing the on power roughly, almost causing it to clatter on the ground. Almost. Your screen flickers on and you see an image of him smiling back at you. You stuck your tongue out at his face, and punched a string of numbers you know by heart.

The line rang for a long time. You were about to let it go to voicemail. At the last second, you hear a tired voice answer you.

“Darling?” Seokjin’s voice was gruff and sleepy. You can make a mental image of him running a hand through his hair. He sounded distracted, probably looking at his spreadsheets as the numbers start to blur together.

"Hi," you try cheerfully, clearing your throat, hoping he can’t hear the anticipation across the phone. You cradle the device between your ear and your shoulder before brushing lint from your apron. "Are you coming home soon?"

Seokjin looked at his watch, knowing something was clearly bothering you. Looking at the time, he scrambled to his feet: 19:32.

"Wh-Wha--?" came the stunned response. You hear Seokjin push his chair back and the familiar beep of his computer turning off. You laugh quietly as you hear doors slam and his voice echoing in the staircase.

"Oh, _____, I'm so sorry. I had no idea what time it was," he pants, high on adrenaline trying to get home as soon as possible.

"I'm so sorry, ______. I'll be home soon. You can start eating without me, okay?"

You feel a grin paint your face, relief that he was at work. "I'm okay! You must be hungry, love. Just glad you're finally coming home. I can't wait to see you. Drive safe!" you exclaim hurriedly, knowing he won’t want to call when he’s driving.

He murmured a confirmation and you ended the call. Seokjin may be late but there’s still cause for celebration. Settling the butterflies in your stomach, you open the fridge door to take out the food you had prepared earlier, heating them up.

You finally see a familiar figure run from his parking space. His dress shirt untucked and he stopped for only a moment to blow a kiss towards you. His hair clung to his scalp, his tie was loose, and his eyes shining with adoration. You waved back quickly before seeing him disappear into the building.

Seokjin expected you to be angry, ready to apologize for coming home so late. At the very least, he expected a hug, you seemed happy enough, asking how his day was in the office. What he didn’t expect was you in an apron… wearing nothing else. His eyes roamed your body, stunned at the lack of clothes, briefcase dropping heavily on the floor.

"Are you going to close the door?" he heard you ask.

Never taking his eyes off of you, he closed and locked the door, sliding out of his work shoes. Like a deer caught in headlights, you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you approached him.

You hear him gasp as you get closer, his face incredulous. You pressed your chest towards his, relishing in his ears turning red.

"Now,” you smirk and grab a hold of his tie. “Would you like to start with dinner,"-- you croon as you fling it behind you.

"-a bath,” you say seductively as you open the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt. “-or me?" you finish, dress shirt completely unbuttoned as you watch his delicious figure.

You don't often see your boyfriend at a loss for words. But this... this was something else. Seokjin opened and closed his mouth, blinking rapidly. You hid your smile behind closed lips, enjoying the fact you’re making him squirm.

"What did you make for dinner?" he stammered, forcing a chuckle.

You waved at the table. "The works, japchae, fried chicken, corn, kimchi… You know, our favourites."

"Huh..." he managed, swallowing. Seokjin knew how hungry he was when he left the office, but he couldn't seem to focus on the steaming delicacies on the table. He turned his gaze back to you, slowly closing the distance between your lips.

"Good answer," you murmur.

"Didn't know it was a test," he whispered, dipping his head back down, claiming your soft lips once more.

You smiled into the kiss, content that he was finally home. His hands stopped trembling as it snaked lower. One hand circled your waist, the other trailing soft circles on your back. You shivered at his delicate touch, arching your back into his hand to feel more.

Seokjin seemed to understand your signal and lifted you up, making your way through the living room to reach your bed. Once you landed with a soft plop, he continued the kiss. Heat was rising to his cheeks as he fully shrugged his dress shirt off, returning shortly to connect his lips to yours.

"Jin, I can't see... it's too dark in here," you whined, feeling your skin burn where he touched your body.

You did not receive an immediate response from your beloved, only hearing the thud of a belt on the floor and you hoped his pants came off with it.

"I think it's the perfect amount of light to make you squirm," he whispers. You feel the mattress sink with his weight and the heated kiss resumes, your hands flying to tug at his hair with urgency. You start to feel feverish from the kiss, trying desperately to connect your hips to something so you can feel the first waves of pleasure. You’ve been waiting for such a long time.

He smiles at your impatience and starts tweaking your clothed nipple. "Off..." you whined, wanting the apron gone.

Seokjin slipped the shoulder straps down. You arch your back and he untied the ribbon holding everything together easily. He threw it over his shoulder and finally, his large palms directly touched your tits. He sucked on a nipple while his hands were busy, roaming every inch of your body. You moaned underneath him, thrusting your chest upwards to give him more access.

"Mmm..." you sigh as his hand travelled south and pressed onto your clit.

"You're so wet already," he released your nipple, chuckling darkly. "Have you been waiting all day? Did you want to be fucked that badly?"

You winced at his words. He continued circling your clit, waiting patiently for your answer. "Well?"

"Yes, darling," you pant out. "I have been waiting all day for you! Ah- and you were late," you whined pathetically.

He chuckled again, muttering apologies under his breath while he continues to play with your clit, your nipple back in his mouth. You knew you were going to get a real apology after you're done, but this was enough.

You felt his finger enter your pussy, testing out to see how tight you were. Your eyelids fluttered shut as he added another finger, eliciting a moan from you.

"Yeah? You like that?" came the breathy response.

Your head spun as he curled his fingers at the sensitive bundle of nerves. His thumb pressed and circled on your clit, his pace getting faster and his thrusts getting deeper.

"Jin, I'm close," you squeak out, squirming at his unrelenting force. Your high was right there, waiting for your undoing. But your boyfriend had other plans and his thrusts stopped completely before you came.

You whined, your hands tugging at his hair dangerously. Frustration swept overr your face as it turned even more crimson than his ears. "J-Jin..." you grumble weakly, catching your breath. Your cunt squeezed at nothing when he removed his fingers completely.

"Wanted to feel you cum on my dick," was his simple response.

In the fog of your pleasure, you weren't aware of his veiny cock rapidly growing harder, tip already leaking precum. You stared, dazed as he pumped his length. You also had other plans when you moved to the floor.

You licked a stripe down from the tip to the base, earning a hiss from your boyfriend. His eyes fluttering shut when you look up, his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth.

You suck lightly at first, taking care that your teeth don't make contact with his sensitive member and begin bobbing to a rhythm. He groaned as you stuffed your mouth with his cock, hands grabbing fistfuls of your hair.

"Ah- ________, ah-, can I move?" he huffed out, unable to form sentences without groans.

You moaned to signal your affirmation and he used your hair as leverage to pull you closer to the base. You struggled and gagged, feeling so fucking full. You whimper as he held you there, his head falling back with a groan.

Seokjin snapped his hips, thrusting deeper into your throat. The sensation made you moan, tears blurring your vision. He picked up the pace when he saw you, loves the view of you struggling with his cock in your mouth.

He loved to ruin you, would never admit that out loud, but seeing his lover whimper and sob because he was too big made him moan. Seokjin was holding your head in place, letting his hips do all the work. You groaned out, the vibrations on his cock almost sent him over the edge.

You knew he was close. In ragged breaths, he was saying how beautiful you were, how well you were taking his cock, how amazing you felt, and all the sweet nothings you often hear. However, when his thrusts turned messy, an indication that he was close, you shifted backwards and his beautiful cock fell out of your mouth.

"Fuck!" he cursed loudly, careening forward. He held your head in place for balance, not wanting to fall, worried he hurt you somehow. However, he was greeted with a teasing grin. "Payback, love," was all you said smugly.

You knew you shouldn’t have pushed his buttons that way. But you couldn't help it, knowing the wonderful outcome that awaits you.

He growled, anger flaring with every second that passed since you denied his release. "Bed. Now,” he muttered under his breath. You obliged at his command, though you did it slowly, never taking your eyes of him

This side of Seokjin rarely comes out to play. He was always worried he'd hurt you.

‘Yeah, that's the point,’ you snorted, recalling the memory of explaining what you wanted like he was 5.

Even still, this was a welcomed surprise. You made a mental note of how you pushed his buttons that day, hoping to recreate it in future events.

You were about to sit on the bed when you turned around, climbing on all fours instead, excited about what he would do to you.

“That’s not what I asked you to do, slut” he chuckled, waiting for you to get settled. You teased your ass, moving it closer towards his dick before pulling back.

You didn't anticipate the first slap, the sound of his palm hitting your skin filling the room. You moaned, wiggling your ass towards his face, eyes shining bright with lust.

"Ah- you like being spanked, huh?” Seokjin said, scratching his chin. “Who knew you'd this much of a slut."

You moaned at the word, loving when he said such mean things to you. Your knees buckled when the next smack wasn’t on your ass. He clicked his tongue as he watched your juices flow out from having your cunt smacked. Seokjin reached gingerly towards your clit, teasing it to ease the pain.

"Oh?" he said simply before smacking you again, this time back at your ass. He alternated between slapping your ass and your sopping cunt, the uncertainty of where the next pain would land causing you to see stars.

You whimpered and whined underneath him. Fully lying on your stomach, your ass no longer in the air. You held a pillow, moaning into it, praying the neighbors wouldn't complain about the noise. "J-Jin... please fuck me."

"Huh, I didn’t know this one could beg," he chuckled. The thought of him being with another slut left a twinge in your chest, but that jealousy subsided when he slapped you hard this time, snapping your mind from your thoughts. There was some shuffling behind you and you felt the tip of his cock on your entrance, Seokjin coating his erection with your juices.

"Shit- it's so slippery..." he said mockingly, "slipping" past your cunt. "I can't seem to get it in."

His teasing left you desperate, clinging so hard on to the pillow that your knuckles started to turn white. And just as you felt the anticipation was too much, Seokjin thrusted into you fully, his girth entering you all at once, not caring that you usually needed time to adjust to his cock.

Seokjin dragged you closer towards him, your legs off the bed. He held your neck down with his arm and thrusted hard into your cunt. Before long, you begged silently as your high approaches, hoping that this time your boyfriend would let you cum.

"Baby, I- I'm close."

"Are you now, sweetheart?" You nodded and whimpered at his question. Your voice was getting higher, moans filling your small bedroom.

And he stopped again.

You buried your face in the pillow to scream. You were so agonizingly close and he denied you just like that. Tears fall out of your eyes now, you hiccup and sob, glaring daggers at him.

Normal Seokjin would've scooped you into his arms, a myriad of apologies would spill from his mouth.

But not this time. Instead, he grabbed your hips with his muscular arms before flipping you over so you lay flat on the bed. His cock went back inside, thrusting slowly while he spun circles on your sensitive folds.

"Please-" You breathe in deep, trying to stabilize your hiccups.

"One more for me?" he asked. His voice low and husky.

You start shaking your head, pleading, no- you couldn’t do it again. You were begging him to let you cum. He continued his shallow thrusts and his attention on your clit. You sigh underneath him, overstimulated beyond belief.

"One more," he insisted and leaned close to your ear. "For one whole year of living together." He nibbled on the shell before moving down to your neck. "Please?" You moan when he sucked on the delicate flesh.

You melted into his embrace and nod. "One more."

Perhaps you should've considered longer. Perhaps it was your lust-addled brain that made you say yes. Perhaps you should not have fallen for his devilish charm. But it’s all too late now as he lay on the bed, and you climbed over him.

"Mmph..." you moan, throwing your head back while you grind your pussy on his cock. You snuck a glance below only to find seeing your boyfriend drowning in pleasure.

You leaned forward and bumped your forehead with his. Seokjin's eyes open gently. He pants quietly as he cups your face, gently stroking it with his thumb. An angelic smile spreads upon his face, love and affection in his eyes. You whined as you continue riding him, trying to chase your own high while helping him with his, picking up the pace.

You were still moving a bit too slowly for his liking so he thrusted his hips to match your movements. It sent shivers down your spine and you moan deliciously.

"Baby, I can't- ah- Jin..." you pant, bouncing and grinding on his cock, just then realizing how close you actually were. You expected the stop, but it didn't make it any easier. Your boyfriend stopped his movements and held your hips firm, causing your body to convulse.

Seokjin sat up quickly, hugging and kissing your face profusely. "You did such a good job, ______." he said, his apologies in the form of kisses. He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You were so pretty bouncing on my cock like that."

You sigh and smiled weakly at him, "Can I rest?" you asked meekly.

You hear him genuinely laugh. His friends always said that his laugh sounded like windshield wipers. But to you, it sounded like wind chimes dancing in the summer.

Seokjin grabbed you and laid you down on the bed gently. He turned to his side and stroked your hair. You faced him, a content smile on your face as you also stroke his cheek.

"I love you."

The sudden confession made you halt. You knew Seokjin meant it. However, he does not say I love you very often. He shows his love with physical touch and "have you eaten?" questions that make you feel so happy he cared. But hearing him say he loved you almost made you cry. Almost. You had enough tears for the day.

"I love you too, darling."

You scoot closer to kiss him, tongue asking permission to enter. He groans when they collide. Your spare hand moved down and stroked his softening cock gently but he sprung up instantly.

"I kinda blue-balled you, sorry," you broke the kiss sheepishly. Seokjin just chuckled and continued the kiss, moving on top of you.

“Are you okay for more?” he asked, back to his usual self.

You nodded enthusiastically.

His cock slid in effortlessly, your pussy already wet and stretched out enough to take him in without any discomfort. Pleasure caused your body to groan. You wanted so badly to come.

He held up both your legs and toyed with your clit. He was able to thrust easily into you. He started out slow, making sure that you were actually okay before it turned manic, his cock going in and out of you with such force.

You whined when his thumb pushed harder on your clit, feeling your walls clench at his huge dick.

His cock going deeper and deeper inside you combined with him touching your clit was all it took. You were suddenly right there, at the edge of pleasure before you snap. You yell his name, your voice getting increasingly higher. You look at him with desperate eyes.

"Cum on my cock, ____," he groaned, marveling at how tight you were getting.

He kept the pace and soon, you were moaning his name, your juices creaming his cock. You loved being filled. You were so full as your walls clenched around him.

A few more hard thrusts and he joined you in pleasure. "Ah- _____," he moaned out as your walls were painted white. You winced when you thought Seokjin was going to fall on top of you, though he caught himself at the last second.

He slid out of you with a hiss and ran to get a towel to clean you up. After he was done, the towel was placed in the laundry basket, along with all the clothes that were discarded from the floor. You roll your eyes, knowing how neat your boyfriend was.

He plopped right next to you and you cuddled closer, throwing an arm over his muscled abdomen.

"Hi," he sighed out in bliss, tucking another strand of hair behind your ear. "Happy one year anniversary of living together, my dear."

His head dipped towards your and you both nuzzle your nose at each other. "Happy one year, Jin."

"So," he started, clearing his throat. "I can tell you liked getting spanked. Push my buttons some more and maybe it'll happen more often," he laughed at his own comment., waggling his eyebrows at your direction.

This time, it was you who were at a loss for words. You shook your head, rolling your eyes before snuggling so close to him. You found the perfect spot on his chest, as always, pulling the blankets towards the both of you.

He removed himself from underneath you and stared seriously into your eyes. "I know I don't say it enough,"-- you smiled as you notice his ears turning red again-- "but I meant what I said. I do, love you, ____." He held your gaze and you found the strength to sit up slightly to kiss him.

"I know, Jin. This was enough. You are enough."

You've never seen him so giddy and he kissed your forehead again, finally settling down.

"Good night, Kim Seokjin. I’ll clean the food in the morning," you say drowsily.

"Don’t worry, let me get it. Good night, soon-to-be Kim _____," he whispered. You heard the comment but you were tired to ask what he meant. In the morning, you thought to yourself. I'll deal with that in the morning.

When you finally slept, soft snores filling the room, Seokjin got up, carefully detangling him from your arms. You protest slightly but rolled over, not waking up. He padded softly to the kitchen to put the food away. Washing his hands, he looked to the bedroom once more to make sure you were indeed asleep, before opening his briefcase.

Inside, there was a small blue box and Seokjin opened it gingerly, fearing the worst. He sighed in relief as the band reflected a light coming from outside, still intact even though he dropped it earlier. He closed the small box and placed it back in his briefcase.

Seokjin came back to the room to find you had gotten up, hands rubbing your eyes. “Where did you go?”

“Bathroom and grabbed a glass of water,” he lied casually, praying that you didn’t see anything, his heart hammering in his chest.

You mumbled something and he sighed in relief, putting on a pair of boxers before snuggling you close, kissing your forehead.

All characters depicted in this fic are 18+ and fictional.

Any resemblance is just a work of fiction.

All rights © bangtanhome.tumblr.com

Posted on 04.13.2021 at 11:11am GMT+7.

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mcheang · 3 years

Note

Lila doesn't know that Luka is Juleka's brother so she tries claiming that he is a delinquent and a bad influence on Marinette.

Gossip report

One day when Lila was leaving school, pondering on how to steal Adrien from Kagami, she spotted Marinette talking to a boy with blue hair and a guitar.

He was obviously older and definitely cute.

Nearby two girls were whispering about how lucky Marinette was to have this senior student asking her out.

Well, Lila certainly hates it when the spotlight isn’t on her.

Later that day, while hanging out with the girls (because Marinette was definitely out on a date), Lila tried to be the one to start the gossip chain.

Lila: hey girls, I don’t want to alarm anyone but do you think Marinette will be fine with Adrien off the market?

The girls exchanged shrugs. “She’ll be fine. She’ll move on.”

Lila feigned concern. “That’s what i am worried about. I think Marinette is so heartbroken, she’ll give her heart to anyone who gives her the time of day. I just saw her after school talking to some high school dropout.”

Pause.

Juleka: what did he look like?

Lila: he had blue hair, rode a bike (let them think it’s a motorcycle) and wore grungy clothes. *gasp*

Alix: and what makes you think he’s a bad influence?

Lila saw her pink hair and quickly backtracked on looks. “I could tell by his face. He looks so smug, arrogant and sneaky. The kind of boy you see smoking and dealing with drugs.”

Juleka: I see...

Lila: so you see, we must interfere on Marinette’s behalf, before his claws are in too deep.

Or at least they will because everyone knows Marinette will never listen to Lila.

Juleka was using her phone and at last found an image of Luka, alone at one of his favorite rock concerts. The background was dim and he was making faces for the camera.

Juleka: was this the boy you saw?

Lila: that’s him! What do you girls think? Delinquent or what?

Mylène: i think you should give him a chance. Don’t be deceived by appearances.

Lila: trust me! I’m a good judge of character. This boy is bad news. He’s the type of guy who ends up in jail and drunk.

Rose decided to intervene. “He’s also Juleka’s brother.”

Oh....

Alya: maybe you should check your facts before you go spreading rumors.

Lila’s brain: hypocrite!

Lila: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. I just got so worried for Marinette.

Mylene: we understand Lila. But Luka’s a genuinely sweet boy.

Rose: all the girls at his school like him

Alix: he’s a real artist, in a musical way

Alya: he’s a member of Kitty Section and the songwriter of their songs

Juleka: and he’s a great judge of character. If he doesn’t like somebody, we don’t like him. It’s a band thing.

Lila sweatdropped. “Oh. Well I can’t wait to make his acquaintance and get to know him better.” Maybe she could make Marinette look bad to him and he could tell Kitty Section?

Alya: no worries. Luka’s taking Marinette back here for guitar lessons

Lila: great (at this line, even I can’t tell if she is sincere or not)

Luka and Marinette arrived on his bike. His travel worn jacket and ripped jeans hardly a cause for alarm. Beneath his bright blue hair were darker, soulful eyes.

The moment they stepped through the door and saw Lila, Marinette predictably scowled and Luka surprisingly flinched.

Before Lila could start charming him, Juleka beat her to it with a request to help him keep his bicycle. (As if. Their boat was cluttered and he could have dumped his bike anywhere.)

The moment they were alone, sister asked brother. “What was her music?”

Luka winced. “Loud. Very loud. Like fire alarm loud that you can’t hear anything else.”

Juleka: she sounded like a fire alarm?

Luka: no, she sounded like screechy violins. Like a novice attempting to be Mozart on her first try, and in vain.

Juleka nodded, worry wrinkling her brow. “I understand.”

Juleka headed back to the group and clapped her hands. “So sorry everyone. But it’s time for a band meeting. So everyone who isn’t Kitty Section, I’m sorry but you’ll have to leave soon.”

Alix: no worries. I can meet up with Nathaniel at the museum.

Alya: and I have to be at a date with Nino anyway.

Mylène: I’ll go call Ivan over.

Lila frowned, correctly assuming Luka didn’t like her and told Juleka. “Is it because of me? Does Luka doesn’t like me?” Cue crocodile tears.

Juleka quickly reassured her. “No. No. He just isn’t used to Italian music, and he’s been very cautious about creating music since Bob Roth. So only band members are allowed.”

Lila: but why isn’t Marinette leaving with us?

Marinette: i have to see them to perform to think of what costumes i have to design for them.

Lila’s brain: darn, she has a legit excuse.

Lila: please, can’t I stay?

This time it was Rose who spoke. Kindly, but firmly. “Sorry Lila. But this is strictly band business. Besides, aren’t you meeting with the president’s daughter online soon? To discuss charity options?”

Lila hid her rage. “Right. Thanks for reminding me.”

As Lila expected, and to Marinette’s surprise, for the rest of the afternoon, Kitty Section warned the rest of their class not to trust Lila. Alix and Alya were already suspicious about her since she tried to malign Luka, and his reaction just confirmed it.

Alya finally fact checked her work and took down Lila’s interview, apologising for posting false information.

Nino told Adrien, who already knew. Nino warned Adrien to tell the truth next time because tabloid gossip is different from deceiving friends.

The next day at school, Lila didn’t bother to show. When Caline reported she was ill, the class finally told her she was a liar and is probably lying now.

Caline: do you have proof?

Alya: yes! And if she’s been lying about Ali, she’s been skipping school for months.

Caline finally became serious. “Well then I shall have to contact her mother.”

Alya smirked. “As Vice President I already sent her an email (double checking the embassy website) asking for confirmation if her daughter had really been in Achu for months. Because after her lie about being Ladybug’s best friend (I attached the video link) and her claims of being Prince’s Ali’s buddy, I am skeptical of her claim to be in Achu for all that time.”

Caline’s frowned deepened.

But as it turns out, Caline needn’t have called Mrs Rossi because she dragged her daughter to school to see the principal after she opened her company email and saw the video. Her colleagues told her what was up and even how her own daughter had been akumatized more than once.

It’s a shame they didn’t get to see the scolding happen. But Mrs Rossi forced Lila to tell the whole class the truth. As Lila had been missing so many classes, Kim pointed out there was no way she could graduate unless she took summer school and make up classes.

Lila protested she already saw the online video lessons.

But Mrs Rossi corrected that Lila wasn’t just going to graduate, she had been expelled for tampering with official documents.

Lila sulked and accepted her fate.

Mrs Rossi reminded her daughter that it was worse than she thought because no school would accept a pathological liar with a record for truancy except the ones prepared for such misbehaving cases.

Alix snorted. “Karma! She called Luka bad news and now she’s heading for a school for troubled kids.”

Indeed, Lila’s new school life was miserable. She couldn’t skip without someone finding her and dragging her back to a class that would laugh at her and an unsympathetic teacher. And where everyone knew of her condition, nobody believed anything she said. Her mother won’t even believe her when she reports she is being bullied. Not when the teacher didn’t think calling Lila a liar is bullying, especially when she keeps coming into class with fake doctor notes, painted blood, self-inflicted scratches, and loose bandages. Seriously, bullying is seriously monitored. Beyond the name calling, nobody actually harms Lila because she always tries to harm herself anyway.

She is like the class jester, giving them a free show. And the punishments for actual bullying are so severe that nobody dares do it.

#miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug fic #ml fanfic #ml fanfiction #ml fic #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #Lila salt #ml salt fic #Lila karma #lila gets exposed #lila is exposed #post miracle queen

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symphonyofthewrite · 3 years

Text

If These Walls Could Talk

Freaking GORGEOUS cover art by Junki Sakuraba on Instagram and Deviantart!! Definitely go check him out!! His art is incredible, and from what I can tell he’s really nice dude. He absolutely went above and beyond with this prompt. 10/10 would commission again. (And probably will once I save up enough money XD)

The wonderful art later in the chaper is by niuan_ on instagram!!

It wasn’t made/commissioned for this fic--(though I’ve since commissioned her to make cover art for me, so stay tuned for those!)--but when I saw it I couldn’t believe it!! That’s one of my favorite images in this chapter, and I couldn’t believe another artist made a piece for the same idea independently!!

I'll put the links to their profiles either in the replies or a reblog (since tumblr is dumb about links)!!

Also, FYI, I'll be using this post as my "reblog post" meaning I'll reblog this post with the later chapters of this fic, so they're all in one place. So if you want to read more of this fic, check the reblogs on this post, chances are more chapters will be there!!

Comments and reblogs are MORE than appreciated!! If you have a spare minute you will really make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix

Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.

The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.

Chapter Summary:

“My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal…She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged the door with the pommel of her knife…She was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.”

Chapter 1: "Lisa”

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

The castle doesn’t like children.

Well, maybe that’s too strong to say. It simply isn’t the place for them. Its existence is a signpost: leave me alone. It is not used to having company—much less a family—inside it, nor is it ready to welcome for a crying, puking, giggling thing into the world. It does not intend to be a cozy place to coddle him into adulthood.

The castle itself pierces the sky, its turrets and towers the dripping stain of the sun’s blood across the moon.

The bare walls hold no colorful tapestries for a child to enjoy, no paintings of its many inhabitants to tell of—for there was only ever one (and maybe that ought not change. It is safe to say the castle doesn’t like change). The royal red and gold carpets are more suited to kings; not designed for spit-up, mud, and scuffing. ‘Don’t play with that’ would be a motto around here; so many contraptions either easy to break, or which could break the child. The fireplaces, while almost always lit, only ever coughed warmth onto the floor before them—they provided no snug space to curl up on a winter’s day. Even the mirrors here are empty, holding nothing but a reflection of the bare walls they sit upon.

There are certain people who were seemingly born as they are; they never owned toys, never crawled on the floor, never walked with clumsy steps—their footfalls were always this calculated count—never burped on their mother’s nice shirts, and surely never had anything so dull as a childhood. They were always just…here, on the world. There was no innocence, and no losing it. So it was with Dracula.

The very thought of Dracula ever owning toys, even in some nice cottage far away from here, with a doting mother and an absent father, with a funny last name like Cronqvist, defied sense to the castle. So no, no toys here, nor any simple charts for learning; the books divulged their secrets to more mature minds. Just blood and books, gold and gears, forgotten magic means, mirrors that reflect nothing, and a pile of prayers to a good God they used to justify their ungood, and ungodly deeds.

All these things—or their absence—do not make for the picture of a baby-proof home.

The castle has grown accustomed to being cold and dark, and listening to one master alone. It’s not a quaint place lovers look on and think we’ll raise our kids here someday.

Its master isn’t the ideal father either—after all, the castle only reflected its king. Its master knows only of blood and nails, fangs and wails, words too big for a child’s mouth, and worlds too dark for a child’s heart.

Can he be soft? Can he be gentle? Can he keep those claws, which have ripped out better men’s hearts, from piercing a child’s—his child’s…how could one who killed so many have a child?—skin? He knows many spells, but is there one that can turn those screams into laughter?

He has been soft before. Once. And that is with this woman.

Many women have walked the castle’s halls: shivering, shrieking damsels at his feet; cold and calculating queens; fragile bodies on the floor, that he broke with the same regard a child does a vase that matters to someone else.

Those ordinary people who do come often have pitchforks in their mouths, and fiery words in their closed fists. Curses stacked on the end of stakes, banging like the castle is the church bell signifying their own funerals.

It is for this reason that the castle does not like outsiders, does not open its doors easily. But it cannot deny anyone entry. Unlike the humans’ doors, which find his master guilty until proven innocent.

They always came at night. At night, when the loudest sound is your own breathing. At night, when their fires echoed loudest, and their shouts burned brightest.

They came when the flowers were closed, when only the most eerie and vicious of animals played with the skins of their prey, and the moon waxed the world in cold, drunk shine. The sun could not watch them, could not show their blood-struck hands in their full glory.

She came at sunset. When the sun still glazed her deeds in sanguine auburn, but was just deciding to turn its gaze and let the kids have their fun. Not quite day, when the sun would kill things like Dracula, but not quite night, when the hours are named after witches, and lust is strongest—be it for the body, or the blood within it. Somewhere in between death and life, violence and peace.

This woman came with a knife in her hand, yes. But a knife, at least, was not a sword. It was not a pitchfork, a spear, a whip, or a stake; all weapons that signify, if the fight wasn’t there, you were bringing it with you. Not a war-starved weapon, pointing with mal-in—and -con—tent towards the castle doors and all the things inside it. Not a thirsty thing. Something that by default faced the other direction. Something that can start a fight if it wants to, but doesn’t crave it.

The golden woman came at sunset, with a knife in her hand, and looked upon this thing, this castle that others called ‘ugly’, and ‘monstrous,’ and ‘grotesque,’ looked upon it with awe, and gasped in wonder.

She knocked. She didn’t bang her fists upon the stone, didn’t ram pitchforks and assorted insults against the innocent doors, like how-dare-they protect their master.

She knocked, and the doors opened before she could raise her fist a second time. Maybe, just this once, not because they didn’t have any other choice.

The doors—foreboding, menacing, and all the other spooky -ings one can think of—opened to a world strewn in light; the demon’s castle looked brighter, more beautiful, more alive, than half the churches she’d been to.

Her footsteps were gentle against the castle’s floors. Not a slow, forced gentleness, but also not a piercing, purposeful march. There was no apprehension to her footsteps; her feet carried her as if anxious to take her to as many rooms as they could.

At first her steps were the only sound, enough to fool some into thinking they’re alone.

And it became clear both that she was not alone, and not a fool.

But when she saw the demon, she put the knife away, and used her words.

She used her words to repeat those she herself had heard: stories. But not the kind that make monstrous men run at the doors with naughts and crosses, the kind pious people buried along with all evidence that the world wasn’t made of black and white.

Not all the stories told that this place was cold and dark and full of death.

Amongst all the stories about death, there were others that said Vlad Tepes brought this castle to life with science, forbidden knowledge, and a little bit of lightning. Stories that say there is life here.

And, in exchange for proof that these life-stories true, Dracula asked for a trade, a trade that would prove the other stories true too. He gave up the killing a while ago—(the castle has been in one place a very long time)—but he was still not used to giving for free, and definitely not used to getting for free. Vampires trade in blood and names, not diamonds and declarations. Vampires trade in things they can swallow. This castle, too, had been a gaping hole set to swallow the world and everything that entered. Never once had it given.

And she dared to say, that this place, its master, should learn to give, when the humans have done nothing but take from them—or try their best to. He ought to be the one to invite her in, to ask what she would like, to dispense pleasant words and kind actions, when the humans forgot they invented hospitality, and showed no invitation for him to even enter their homes.

But she didn’t come with a mouth full of garlic, and hands full of superstition. Her feet did not drill holes in the floor with their sharp toll, they wandered the scenic route.

She was used to being cheated. Dracula and his castle were too. But that was not why she was there. She was not there for cheap tricks, or death. She wanted something real. A little bit of the life the castle has to offer.

Her defiance wasn’t that of a terrified citizen, or angry queen, either; rather the calm resolve of someone who is asking for something they know in their heart is good, and knows they will get it. The kind of person who believes there is good in everyone, and that this good will ultimately always win, and who won’t leave until they convince this good to show its face.

The castle has watched countless men and women cower at the foot of count Dracula. Some, do have a measure of god-sanctioned defiance; they come with whips and scourges to defeat him. The castle and the king are bound together in their resolve against them.

Except one. Except this woman. One human whom both master and castle found themselves reluctant to deny, cast away, or kill, maybe even…taken with.

She may be human, but she was not like the rest; she did not light the night on fire with her thirst for blood.

So maybe, just maybe, they could let one ray of sunlight slip through the cracks.

She was also not devoid of life, and maybe that was the key.

‘Devoid of life’ was an accurate portrayal of the castle. Bats flying out of blackness is a good description of a cave, and caves don’t usually come with the brochure ‘teeming with life’, or ‘great place to take your kids!’. The castle had a soul-sucking quality to it; those who entered often found themselves leaving less alive than they arrived. It took after its vampire master. Those who didn’t actually lose their lives within its walls, often remarked upon leaving that the flowers bloomed brighter, the birds sang louder, the grass was greener, and that they missed the sunlight.

Sunlight. Such a base thing; vampires don’t need the light or warmth to be happy.

Sunlight. Such a base way to die; wanting to get out of the cold and the dark.

“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”

Castlevania was alive once. Once Dracula set the pumps, and its heart began to beat. He turned the gears, and its lungs inhaled. He forged the lightning, and it began to think. Once the books, full of unknown knowledge, jumped off the shelves to get the vampire king’s attention. He filled the bottles and beakers, and they bubbled, as if laughing at a joke only they shared.

They were both alive, once.

That waned, with time. The gears got arthritis, the books caught pneumonia, the experiments atrophied. The castle ached before she came.

And Dracula, alone in the halls, picking up books and putting them down again without so much as a polite glance through them, because he read them all before. Dracula looking into fractured mirrors that could take him anywhere, but deciding there wasn’t anywhere he wanted to go. Dracula, looking into old mirrors that don’t reflect him—like there was never anything to reflect, nothing alive here to begin with, and there isn’t a master for this castle after all. Nothing but a grave. Dracula sitting alone in his study, staring into the fire. No one to talk to. No sound but flipping pages and crackling fires—nothing alive. Alive but dead. This castle. Its master. Undead is the proper term.

The other women who came through here reflected the castle, or else the castle took the life out of them the moment they entered. Queens with malice-stained past, and cracked, icy future in their eyes. Just as cold as the walls. Subjects, humans throwing gruesome insults, silky flattery, or fluttering pleas at his feet. Just as empty as the mirrors.

Only one refused the castle’s bite. Only one walked in looking for life, rather than death. Looking for a thing no one thought existed here. Already presumed dead. Put six feet beneath the ground. But maybe it was here all along; maybe the light hid in the castle’s corners while the dark came out to play, and she just had to coax it out of its hiding places. Maybe the bell was ringing all this time, she was the only one who came close enough to hear it; the only one who came to put flowers on the grave.

Maybe when she felt the machinery pumping she knew the rhythm was a heartbeat. Maybe when she heard the gears clanking she knew it was the sound of inhaling and exhaling. Maybe when she saw the lightning, she wondered what it was thinking. Maybe she looked at these books, these instruments, and saw what the vampire king saw once; something alive. They weren’t dead yet—un- or otherwise. Just sick, and in need of proper treatment. She was a doctor after all. Maybe her first subject was the very books she learned from.

Lisa, who looked at this blotch on the sky, with Death in its towers, and darkness splattered on its walls, and thought that’s where I’ll learn to heal people. Lisa, who gaped in amazement at the beast of a building. Lisa, who didn’t shudder upon entering. Lisa, who didn’t scream when its master touched her, but turned to him with calm resolve, and told him she’d teach him to be more human. Lisa, who’s life eclipsed the undeath in this place.

And there was a trade that occurred that day. For Dracula’s immortal knowledge, Lisa would teach him how to live a mortal life. To travel the world as a man, to walks as a man, to eat and drink, laugh and cry, as a man. Immortality for mortality. They gave each other the world, as so many lovers promise to do. Vlad would make her immortal, and Lisa would make him mortal, with no exchange blood.

(Except to create a thing with both their blood running through it.)

So maybe, after all this talk of life, it is fitting that she wants to create life inside this castle.

Fitting, maybe. Fitting for her. But the castle is not mortal yet, and wishes it could protest that it isn’t the right size, refuse to try on the idea.

Dracula is apprehensive as well, for the castle and he are used to each other, they take after each other, because the cold, and the dark, and the death, and the alone does something to you after a while; you start talking to the walls. After the cold queens and quaking colleens leave, or leave their bloodstains the floor. After the beasts and their silver-stained bullets turn back into righteous men in the sun. After he simply outlives everyone else. When all the living things hate, fear, or else betray you, when all the living things can die, and you, who are undead, cannot, it’s the lifeless things that stand firm by your side. When the day ends and the shadows come out to play, when you’re the only one left, in the end you still have the walls. And then…the walls are all you have. And if you talk to them long enough you make a sort of pact, spoken or silent, with those speechless stones: ‘you’re the only one I can trust.’

Dracula speaks to them one day, says he wonders if he can do this, be a father at all, not to mention a good one. The castle cannot reply. But something deep inside the walls wonders if it might be nice to hear Dracula laugh. It might be nice to put on some different clothes. It might be nice for someone new to listen to from time to time. It might be nice to live again.

The castle is concerned. Used to doing things one way, being one way, and only hearing one voice. But that doesn’t mean it is unwilling, that it intends to kill the child.

It never kills anything—Dracula does that. It cannot do anything on its own, and that includes change.

The castle doesn’t like change.

…But that doesn’t mean it won’t.

And if its going to change, its master must change first. They must change together.

Vampires do not have reflections. But Dracula has a castle, and that castle will be damned if it isn’t his mirror.

Reflections are simple to change; put on some makeup, some war paint, a new change of clothes, get a piercing somewhere. Simple, yes, but not easy, to change completely, because that doesn’t mean anything’s changed inside.

The castle did not come equipped for child-rearing; there are no rooms full of toys and cradles and school supplies.

So if this is to be, they must build their son’s world themselves.

Together they set aside a room for the child’s arrival. Just one, single room. And the castle too knows, from the start, this room will be different from all the rest. They will put paintings on the walls, and banners in the halls; things to interest him, to tell him of his parents, at least, even if there are few other relatives to spend Christmas with. The carpets will be darker, instead of the stringent red, and they will make their words smaller, the books easier to understand. The rest of the castle is warm in color, but cool in atmosphere. This room will be cool in color, but warm in atmosphere. The fire will always be set in its place, and they will try their best to make sure the warmth reaches him; if the fire fails, they will knit blankets; if the blankets fail they will make him tea, or warm milk with honey; and when everything else fails they will hold him. If there are tears here, scornful stares will not greet them, instead, kisses and lullabies will be behind door number three. If this room lives, it will be because of something much softer than pounding metal and lighting.

If a child is to live here, they must change that reflection. Everything Dracula’s castle appears to be, this room will be the reverse. Separate. Something… other than the castle.

This room will bottle all the laughter had in this castle. This room will be made of and for living, not the death the rest of the place is steeped in. So much so that this room will not stand for bloodshed.

Lisa brings in supplies from her town; color and cloth, boards and brushes, needle, and thread, and paper; all the things one needs to build a universe.

It is Dracula who takes the paint, who changes the color to something other than the blacks and reds of the rest of the Vampire’s world, cementing on the walls themselves You will not be dark here, my castle. You will be kind to him, Castlevania. The castle doesn’t know its master to work with his hands like a human, but Vlad is not the same within this room either—this room is part of the trade. He doesn’t use magic, or science, as if he is telling himself with every hammer that they are going to change together, the way one does when talking to the mirror.

Lisa sits in a chair and stiches together cloth and fur to make little creatures, toys for the boy to play with. Soft things, not sharp. They are reflections too, littler, simpler ones, of the creatures howling and prowling outside the castle’s walls, or scurrying within them.

But it is the ceiling that is the crowning jewel of the room. Something they paint together—splashing it onto each other’s clothes and noses.

His parents love the stars. They often walk outside the castle walls, fingers knit into each other’s, to gaze at them. They are scholars at soul, and have charted the constellations. They want their child to be able to do the same, to watch the stars, even if he’s not outside. At the end of every day they want him to be sung to sleep by the symphony of the night.

For them, maybe, but to the castle, one of the most interesting things about this room, is the mirror. This is strange, as, while there are other mirrors in this house, they are nothing more than a silver decoration; they have no purpose here, unless they float in shards and possibility. This is an ordinary mirror. It does hold something now, however, and that’s Lisa—only giving more credence to the idea that she is the only living thing in this castle. The castle wonders if they think it will reflect the child, as if they are hoping he will take after his mother and the room.

The mirror, and the windows. In the rest of the castle, the windows are always closed, curtained, or too small to let any real light in. But here they are big, and inviting to all the wiles of the day. Dracula protested—fearing he would burn. Lisa insisted—hoping he would shine.

The mirror, the room, are empty now. The windows closed. The books and charts dormant as the rest. It is not dead, but it’s not alive either. Not even undead. Just a question. An almost.

The room lays on Frankenstein’s table; just one lightning strike—(or one child’s laugh)—away from breathing.

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years

Text

The Angel Nextdoor

Pairing: Artist!Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: This is the first Tom fic I’ve ever posted and I’m a little nervous, but I’m really proud of it. I hope you guys really like it, I’d love to hear your feedback. Now, this is my Valentine’s day special, and I know what you’re thinking, “Ashley, how can you post a Valentine’s say special on February 15th? It doesn’t make any sense.”. But to that I say, you’ve just never seen this kind of innovation, I’m an artist and I have to take risks like this sometimes. I hope you can understand, love you all xx

Summary: Tom’s latest assignment might just give him the push he needs to finally confess his feelings.

Masterlist

Promt list

“This is the handout for your final, we’re going to talk about it more next class, but for now just look this over and start brainstorming,” Ms. Miller passed a stack of papers down the row with a smile, “You’ll have a full month to work on it so I expect really polished pieces for this.”

Tom glanced over the requirements before settling at the prompt.

‘Paint someone close to you (friend, family member, significant other, ect…) in the style of their favorite artist or painting.’

It seemed simple enough, and he could think of a handful of people to ask. Definitely not family, he didn’t want to travel home and back that frequently. He could ask Harrison, and he was sure he would say yes, but there was one person who really stuck out in his mind. It was (y/n) of course, who better to paint than the most beautiful person in the world? And could anyone really expect an artist like him not to want to paint the object of her affection? Of course actually doing it was a different story. Asking her to let him paint her was a daunting task, one Tom was sure he couldn’t complete. So he was going to paint Harrison.

“Try to come to class with a narrowed down list of who you may end up painting, you’ll need to know for sure by Friday,” Ms. Miller sighed as the class began packing up, “I’ll see you all on Wednesday.”

Tom shoved everything in his bag and went straight for the dinning hall, where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) for lunch. He debated again trying to ask her, but quickly shoved the thought from his mind. She had inspired his work before certainly, it was inevitable that she’d inspire him, or her image would wander to his mind when he was working, but he had never painted her. Of course he wanted to paint her directly, but it was intimate, it always felt wrong to do without her permission. Just asking to paint her surely would have revealed his feelings too, something he wanted to do on his own terms, when he was ready, with concrete proof that she liked him back and he wouldn’t embarrass himself.

“That’s not a happy face,” Harrison hummed as Tom sat down in front of him, “Bad grade or something?”

“No, we just got our final already,” he sighed, letting his bag fall besides him.

“Already?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she wants it to be really polished.”

“Does it seem really hard?”

“It’s nothing I can’t do, I’m gonna need your help though.”

“I’m sorry, you’ve seen me paint before right?”

Tom rolled his eyes, “Obviously not with that. I’m just supposed to paint someone close to me and I don’t want to drive home every other day so I was gonna ask if I could paint you.”

Harrison knit his brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you ask (y/n)?”

Tom flushed, “Absolutely not.”

“Why not? You two would get to spend a lot of time together, alone. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Yes, and I’d like to paint her, but it’s so intimate. I want to be the one to tell her I like her, not a painting. Plus she could say no and then I’d never be able to show my face in public again.”

“There is no way she would say no,” Harrison rolled her eyes, “Just ask her, she’d be happy to help and you might just finally see that she’s into you. Then I can stop watching you two pine over one another.”

“No, just drop it,” Tom ordered, spotting (y/n) approaching their table, “Don’t say anything to her.”

“Hey boys,” she smiled as she sat besides Tom, “How were classes?”

“Mine were fine, Tom’s already getting his finals though.”

Tom shot him a glare while she sighed, “That’s brutal, I’m sorry Tom.”

“I’ll survive,” he hummed, “It’s not anything too rough.”

“What is it?” she asked curiously.

“Just painting someone I know,” his cheeks dusted pink, “Nothing too hard.”

“Too bad I can’t help you out with it more,” Harrison bit his cheek, “Maybe (y/n) could pose for you.”

Tom decided he’d have to push Harrison out their dorm window when they got home.

“Oh yeah, I don’t mind,” she smiled kindly to him.

“It’s okay, it’s probably going to take me awhile and I know you’re busy, I can just ask one of my brothers,” he insisted.

“And drive home every other day? That’s ridiculous, I’ll just do it.”

Tom sucked in a deep breath, trying to decide quickly what the right decision to make was. But he was a painter, he couldn’t give up the chance to paint something so perfect in good conscience, and he didn’t really want to say no either.

“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he smiled to her.

“No problem. So what do I need to do?”

“I’m supposed to paint you in the style of your favorite artist, or painting.”

“Well…” she tapped her lip thoughtfully, “Oh, they guy that painted those little cupids, and he did that Birth of Venus you showed me with all the cupids in it, I really liked his stuff. What was his name again?”

“William-Adolphe Bouguereau,” Tom pursed his lips, “I could do that, it’s not too far off from what I like to do anyway.”

“Cool, I guess I should start practicing my poses then?”

He chuckled, “No, we’ll just do something comfortable for you,” he bit the inside of his cheek, “There’s a bit of planning to do first, like what you’re gonna wear and the colors I’m gonna use, and sketching, I’ll just need a few days.”

“Well why don’t you come over and we can raid my closet? Maybe I can help with some of the other stuff too.”

Harrison was smiling like a proud dad when Tom glanced over at him, “Um, yeah, that would be good, I could come over after class Wednesday?”

“It’s a date.”

“I laid out some clothes already,” (y/n) smiled to Tom as she led him to her room, “I mean you’ll know better than me, but I tried to pick some things I thought would paint well.”

“Thanks, I was thinking something really simple would be best,” he began examining the clothes on her bed, smiling when he spotted the same white, babydoll dress she liked to wear whenever it got hot, “How about this one? It has that sort of angelic feel.”

She picked up the dress and held it against her, “It’s the comfiest too.”

He laughed, “Well that one for sure then. Next would be location, and I know you really like L'Amour et Psyché, enfants, so I thought it would be nice to have you sitting on a cloud to reference that.”

“Whatever you think is best Tom, you’re the artist,” she hummed, “I think that sounds nice though.”

“I think we’ll do that then. Do you want to toss the dress on so we can run through some poses?”

She nodded and Tom stepped outside, allowing her a moment to change. He’d thought about the painting all night, sketching out different poses and swatching colors he wanted to try. The anger he’d felt towards Harrison at lunch had faded almost instantly to excitement. He’d hung out with her a million times before, but he usually let his nerves get the best of him if things started getting flirty. Painting always relaxed him though, and he was sure that he would be able to make his feelings known once he was behind the canvas.

Of course, unbeknownst to Tom, her feelings were quite similar. Tom was handsome, of course, and funny and kind, and she got along with him better than anyone else. She had never felt the way she felt for him with anyone else, but flirting was hard. She always got nervous and backed off, there was just too much at risk. She didn’t know if Tom felt the same way, and she didn’t want to risk damaging their relationship by telling him she was into him. Of course she was happy just to help Tom for the class, but she thought it was a good chance to tread the waters.

“Ready,” (y/n) smiled as she left her room, “Where do you want me boss?”

“The couch is fine,” he was holding his sketchbook now, holding it firm against his chest, “If you could sit kind of sideways and put your arms on the back of the couch.”

She sat as he told her, glancing over her shoulder at him, “Like this?”

“That’s really nice, very reminiscent of the original…” he glanced down at his sketchbook, “Are you comfortable?”

“It’s a little awkward,” she admitted.

“Then it’s a no. How about with your hands in front of you, just resting.”

“This is better,” she smiled as she switched positions, “But if you want me the other way I don’t mind.”

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he assured before glancing back at the sketchbook, “Why don’t you try on your stomach, with your arms under your head.”

She giggled as she moved, kicking her legs like a child, “This is like the fifth grade slumber party position. I feel like we’re gonna play truth or dare.”

He rolled his eyes, “You’re never going to break into the modeling industry if you mess around like that.”

“You’re lucky I’m not a model or I’d be charging,” she stuck her tongue out before laying her head on her hands, “Is this right?”

“Almost, just cross your arms like this,” he set her arms in the position he wanted before stepping away again, “Are you comfy like that?”

“Yeah, I could sleep like this.”

“Good, there’s just one other pose I wanted to try. Could you roll over?”

She flipped to her back and set her hands over her stomach, “Do I look like an angel now?”

“Almost,” he moved one of his arms, extending it above her head and leaving the other over her stomach, “Perfect,” he declared, looking her over with a smile, “Very angelic.”

Her cheeks dusted pink and she bit down on her cheek, “Thanks.”

“I think this is the one,” he scribbled a few things in his sketchbook, “What do you think?”

"I could lay here all day."

“Perfect, can you stay there for a few so I can sketch you?”

She nodded, drumming her fingers along her stomach, "Did you get a better explanation of the project today?"

"Yeah, she said our grade is going to be focused on the emotion of the piece since we're painting someone close to us. She wants us to focus on portraying them how we see them."

"How are you gonna portray me then?" she blushed as she questioned him.

"An angel," he spoke without thinking, his cheeks flushing instantly, "Not with wings or anything, just sort of what I'm going for."

She was sure her face was about to catch on fire, "You don't have to do that, I mean I like the angel paintings, but you should portray me how you see me."

"I am, it just happened to fit with what you like," he tried his best to conceal his face behind his sketchbook as he spoke, "You're really sweet, and you always make everyone around you really happy, I think an angel is fitting."

“I think you’re like that,” she met his eyes, just barely peeking over the edge of his sketchbook, “You always make me happy.”

“I’m really glad I do,” he bit the inside of his cheek nervously, “I think I’ve got everything I need for today, I’ll do some thumbnailing tonight and go pick up some supplies.”

“Cool,” she sat back up, twirling some of her hair nervously, “So when do you want to start?”

“You have that essay right? Why don’t we do Saturday? I don’t want to take up a bunch of your time.”

“That’s sweet but I’m gonna procrastinate no matter what,” she giggled, “Saturday is good though, then we’d have all day to work.”

“I’ll be over at ten then,” he closed his sketchbook before shoving is back into his bag, “If you really want to procrastinate you could come to the store with me. I mean I have to make sure I can match your skin and hair and everything…”

“Well sure, but if you want even more of my very valuable time I at least expect you to buy me some tea.”

He laughed, “Fine, fine, we’ll stop for tea.”

Day 1

Tom was surprised by how awake (y/n) was when he arrived, she was never much of a morning person. When he showed up she had brewed some tea for them both and was already wearing the white dress they’d agreed upon. Tom had drawn about a thousand thumbnails before finally deciding on exactly what he wanted the painting to look like. He decided he’d start on it Friday night, figuring it would be good to get most of the background out of the way so he could focus on painting her while they were together. She gushed over how good the painting already looked, telling him they were the most perfect clouds she’d ever seen while he set up his work station. She was always hyping him up, he appreciated it, even though he was nervous to get started.

“You ready?” he asked finally.

She nodded, “Yeah,” she sat down, doing her best to mimic the pose she had earlier in the week, “Am I good?”

Tom nodded, “Perfect.”

“Awesome, I won’t move a muscle.”

He chuckled, “You can move. Just not too much,” he sighed, picking up his palette and taking one more moment to stare at his canvas, “Okay, time to start.”

(y/n) watched him quietly at first, watching the cute way he stuck out his tongue when he concentrated. She had never seen him paint, the occasional sketch sure, but with painting she’d only even seen finished pieces. They were always amazing, but she felt like getting to see the work in progress was something special. Most people never got to meet someone as passionate or as talented as Tom, let alone get to be the subject of their work.

“Do you mind if I draw the curtains?” Tom broke her trance.

“It’s your painting.”

He laughed, “No, I mean open them. Why on earth would I add a window to a painting of you in the sky?”

“I don’t know how your artist brain works, maybe you think clouds have windows,” she laughed in response, “Go ahead, I thought you wouldn’t want the lighting changing all day.”

“Well I’m going to paint the light source where I want it to be,” he explained as he stood, “But I want to make sure I’m painting you how you’d look in more natural light. Maybe angels have windows, but I’m nearly certain they don’t have iridescent light bulbs.”

“You seriously think heaven has fluorescent lighting?”

“I think they use the sun,” he deadpanned, though a smirk tempted the corners of his mouth, “You can turn on the tv or something.”

“That’s okay, I like watching you.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “Why? I’m just staring at a canvas.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s something you're passionate about, it’s cute watching you get in the zone.”

“Oh,” he blushed and turned his attention back to his work, “Thanks. I’ll be more talkative once I get a little further along, I just really like to concentrate in the beginning.”

“It’s fine,” she assured again, “I’m not bored Tom, I don’t mind a bit of quiet time.”

“Okay.”

Truthfully he didn’t mind it either, at least when he was with her. He just liked being in the same room together, even if they were just studying or watching a movie, it was nice to just be together.

Day 2

“Would you mind if I came over after class tomorrow?” Tom questioned, breaking (y/n)’s attention from the tv.

“That’s fine by me,” she smiled to him, “It’s not like I usually have plans with anyone else on a Monday afternoon.”

“Yeah, no one else can stand you,” he chuckled while she feigned offense.

“You know I could be charging you for this? I’m doing this for free out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You think I have money? I’m a starving artist darling, free is all I can afford.”

“You better be nice then,” she teased with a smile.

“I’m cooking you lunch aren’t I?” he sighed before setting his paints down, “Speaking of which, I think I’m ready for a lunch break.”

“Me too,” she rubbed her stomach, “Break time?”

He nodded, “Yeah, you still want pasta?”

“You know I do,” she winked as she stood up, stretching her arms up above her head, “Can I peak?”

He nodded, “It still doesn’t look like much, but I’m making good progress.”

She bounced over to the painting, smiling ear to ear as she took in all he had done, “It looks more and more amazing every time I see it. This is amazing Tom, seriously it looks so good already.”

He smiled, blushing at the praise, “Thanks, I think it’s coming along really well.”

Day 3

Tom was making much quicker progress than he had expected, he just found it very easy to find his rhythm every time they sat down to work. Part of it was her, part of it was the subject matter, also her. He was pretty sure all the hours he’d previously spent staring at her had something to do with it too. So far he was proud of his work, though he was sure it wouldn’t have been possible for a painting of her to look bad anyway. When he sat down to paint her he didn’t have to think about it much, just paint, it came very natural. It just felt naturally to immortalize someone like her, but the talking helped the most. Normally he painted alone and he’d wear himself out or hit some kind of wall and be forced to stop, but he hadn’t had that problem since working with her. It was like his hands moved on their own while he just hung out with his best friend. It was just easy...

“Tom?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you stay so clean when you paint?”

“I figured it out around the same time I stopped fingerpainting.”

She laughed, “Okay well when I try to paint I still get at least some paint on my hands and arms and stuff, you never get paint anywhere.”

“This is the third time you’ve seen me paint, I’ve gotten messy plenty of times but I’m trying really hard not to get paint all over your house.”

“Have you ever painted a girl?” she giggled, “Her body I mean, like gotten naked and painted on each other?”

He flushed suddenly, “No, have you?”

“No, but it would be fun wouldn’t it?”

“It would be cold,” he pursed his lips, he was well hidden by the canvas, so he had a lot more confidence in his ability to be cheeky, “We can take a break if you want to try it out.”

She went quiet for a moment, Tom thought he might have to throw himself out of her window but when he looked at her her cheeks were just as red, and she decided to press on, “What would you paint?”

“Depends where I’m painting.”

She bit her bottom lip, a playful smile overtaking her despite her pink cheeks, “Well I would paint a grid and play tic tac toe on your abs.”

She burst into laughter at her own awful joke and Tom did his best to fight off his own laughter, “That was not funny.”

“Yes it was that’s hilarious!” she kept laughing, clenching her stomach and rolling onto her side, only to find there was no room and roll onto the floor with a thud, “Ow.”

Tom started laughing, “You deserve that for making such a shit joke.”

“Fuck off,” she groaned.

Day 4

“Do you ever get lonely living here all alone?” Tom knit his brow as he tried to perfect her nose.

She nodded, “Sometimes, but I don’t really want a roommate you know? I need a boyfriend or something so I can just call him over when I decide I want someone to spend the night.”

“You could call me,” Tom didn’t dare peek out from behind the canvas after that comment, “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted me to spend the night sometimes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we could even build a pillow fort and play truth or dare.”

She laughed lightly, “Well who could pass up an offer like that?”

Day 5

Rather than painting the whole night, Tom and (y/n) had decided to get some studying done, putting them at a much later start when they eventually did get to the painting. (y/n) seemed tired, and Tom had told her they could skip the night, especially since he was making such good progress already, but she had insisted she was fine. So they started working, and (y/n) watched tv, half away while Tom started working. The painting was coming along amazing, and Tom had planned to just get some of the more tedious, detailing work done and let her get to bed, but of course once he actually started working it was a different story. He had quickly gotten wrapped up in his work, not stopping until the noise of the tv stopped, the screen flashing to ask if anyone was still watching.

“Sorry, I was just getting in the zone I-” Tom stopped mid sentence, spotting her already passed out on the couch. Her head was tossed to the side and one of her arms hung off the couch. The sight was endearing, but Tom felt bad about not noticing, “Oh dear,” he set his pallet down and stood up, flicking the tv off before approaching her, “Well come on darling, let’s get you to bed,” he nudged her lightly, “(y/n), time to wake up.”

She stirred slightly, a small groan leaving her lips before her eyes peaked open, “Tommy?”

He nodded, a small smile on his lips, “I would have carried you, but you’ve got to lock up behind me.”

She yawned, “Sorry, I’ll stay awake Tom, you can keep working.”

“You’re exhausted sweetheart, you need to get some sleep,” he smiled, setting a hand on her cheek carefully, “I got a lot done today anyway, promise.”

“Okay,” she yawned again before taking his hand, “I’ll help you clean up.”

“I’ll take care of it, why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

She nodded again, pushing herself up sleepily and padding off to her bedroom. Tom smiled to himself while he cleaned up, thinking about how nice it would have been to carry her off and tuck her in, or better yet fall asleep besides her. He could only hope he’d get there one day, if he could ever force out his feelings. It was seeming more and more possible everyday. Just as he’d suspected, hiding behind the canvas had made it much easier to flip the conversation to something flirty, and much to his delight, she didn’t seem to mind, if anything she flirted back.

“Looks good,” (y/n) hummed as she glanced over the painting, “Tomorrow we should be able to start early.”

“Thank you, honestly at this rate I’ll only need a few more days.”

“That’s awesome Tommy, I can’t wait to see it all done.”

“Me too,” he tossed an arm over her shoulder with a smile, “Come see me out.”

“I am, I am,” she smiled as he led her to the door, “Drive safe.”

“I will, get some sleep darling,” he kissed the top of her head before heading for the car.

Day 6

The doorbell made Tom jump, and nearly swipe a black line through one of her eyes, “Fucking hell,” he swore under his breath,

She giggles, “It’s just the pizza Tom,” she jumped off the couch, heading straight for the door, “Which means stop working busy bee we’ve got a pizza to devour!”

He pushed himself up with a sigh, “I’m in the homestretch here, I just need to push through.”

“No, you need to nourish your body and keep your mind sharp,” she winked to him as she opened the door accepting the pizza with a quick thank you.

“Smells delicious,” he plucked the box from her arms, “I think I’ll pretty much finish up tonight, but I’ll want to really polish it tomorrow when I’ve got fresh eyes. And I probably won’t want to stop once I’ve got started so eat and pee before I get here.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute or you wouldn’t get away with bossing people around like that,” she passed him a plate before tossing open the box.

“I know,” he winked to her, dishing them both a slice, “You know I probably only need another hour or so tonight, so we could watch a movie or something while we eat, then I could finish up after.”

A swarm of butterflies fluttered around her stomach, almost making it impossible for her to answer, “That sounds nice Tom, you definitely deserve to relax.”

“We both do,” he grabbed her remote as he fell down on the couch.

“I’ve been laying on the couch, relaxing is currently all I know.”

“Nah, I’m sure it gets tiring sitting there looking pretty all day,” he sucked in a sharp breath when she sat down, pressed right against his side.

“It does,” she nodded in agreement, “Alright, you pick for us alright?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t pay much attention to what he was picking, he was much more concerned with their proximity. They’d watched plenty of movies and tv shows together during their friendship, but they never sat so close. It gave Tom a lot of confidence, since she’d opted to sit besides him, he took it as a sign that his flirting was landing. So after they finished eating he decided he should also initiate something and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Without even thinking she had laid her head on his shoulder, it just felt natural. Tom pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and turned his attention to the tv.

Day 7

Tom stood up, stepping back a few feet to examine his work. He did it fairly frequently so (y/n) didn’t think anything of it and turned right back to the tv, until Tom spoke.

“It’s perfect, I’m done,” he declared with a small smile.

(y/n) raised a brow, “Seriously?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I have to seal it and everything, but the actual painting is done. I’ll turn it in on Monday.”

“Don’t you have a few more weeks?” she asked as she stood.

He nodded, “I don’t need them, I’m finished, it’s gorgeous, I don’t need to do anything else.”

“Well can I see?”

“Of course!” he grabbed her shoulders, quickly pulling her to face the work, “What do you think?”

She went wide eyed, taken back by how good he’d made her look. It was strange, seeing herself in a painting. It was done well of course, and it looked just like her, but better somehow. She couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was, maybe the background or the romantic theme of the painting, but she just looked better. She looked like an angel, perched on a bed of pink and blue swirling clouds, reminiscent of the paintings she likes, but distinctly Tom’s work.

“Wow,” she turned to him with a big smile, “Tom it’s incredible, I don’t know how you made me look like that.”

“That’s just what you look like.”

She shook her head, “It’s better somehow, like the perfect version of me or something. You did incredible.”

“No,” he shook his head, “That’s just you, but thank you. I’m really proud of this, I think it’s one of my best.”

She blushed, “Yeah, you’re gonna get a killer grade.”

He hadn’t thought much about the grave, the assignment had taken a back seat to just painting her, “Yeah, I hope so,” he grabbed her upper arms and smiled down at her, “You’re incredible you know that? Thank you so much for doing this for me.”

She bit her lip and nodded, “You don’t have to thank me, I had fun.”

“Me too,” his eyes caught her lips for just a moment, soft and supple and more than kissable, “I, uh, we should do something to celebrate, dinner or something.”

“That would be fun too,” she tucked some hair behind her ear, leaning towards him just slightly.

He found himself leaning in too, but as much as he wanted to kiss her, something just wouldn’t let him. He kissed her forehead and backed away awkwardly, “I, uh, need to pack everything up, I have to get the sealant on pretty quick and I left it at home so…”

The sealant was in his bag, but he felt like running away suddenly, his nerves truly getting the best of him.

Her cheeks burned in embarrassment but she nodded, ‘Y-Yeah, no problem, I’ll help you pack up.”

“Wait so let me get this straight, all this flirting and pining, you chickened out on the kiss?” Harrison’s jaw fell open in disbelief.

Tom nodded, hiding his head against his arms, “Yes, and I nearly died the first time so let's not talk about it now.”

“Dude,” he gaped, “Are you kidding me? All you had to do was pucker up!”

“I know!” Tom groaned, “I know, I don’t even know what happened, I just froze up. I mean what if I misread it? She probably didn’t want me to kiss her, in fact I know she didn’t.”

“You said she leaned in first!”

“I thought she did but I’m stupid! There’s no way she was trying to kiss me.” “It literally could not be more obvious that you two like each other so I don’t want to hear it. You need to just call her up and tell her you froze up and ask her out.”

“I can’t, I will literally drop dead.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Then I’ll do it.”

“Dude no! I’m not ten, I can’t send you to ask a girl out for me, that’s a guaranteed no at this point.”

“Then just tell her,” Harrison groaned, “Before I lose it, please.”

Tom was coming to terms with the fact that he was going to die alone by Wednesday morning. It was hard to accept, but easier to accept than almost kissing his dream girl and chickening out, so the choice had been easy. But apparently the universe had other plans for him, as Ms. Miller decided to pull him aside after class.

“I want to talk about your final,” she placed his painting on an easel.

He blushed, “You don’t like it?”

She shook her head, “No, no, Tom this is incredible. I was going to suggest that you enter it into the National Galleries up and coming contest.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded, “Yeah, this is amazing, it would be a shame if the world didn’t see it,” she chuckled lightly, “And I’m sure it would get you some brownie points with your girlfriend.”

“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend,” he spoke softly, pretending to cough to try and hide his words, “Just my friend.”

“You painted just a friend like this?”

He nodded.

“And remind me of the title.”

“The Angel Nextdoor.”

“Do you call all your friends angel?”

“Uh no, just her,” he bit his lip while she raised a brow at him, “She doesn’t know I’m into her.”

Ms. Miller glanced at the painting with a hum, “Has she seen the painting?”

He nodded, “Yeah, she was there the whole time.”

“I think she knows.”

He began to blush again, “Really?”

She nodded, “I could tell just from looking at it that you must really love this girl, I’m sure she can tell too,” she smiled and leaned back on her desk, “Anyways, I just wanted to let you know about the competition, I’ll have your marks soon.”

He nodded, “Thanks, I’ll, uh, think about it.”

He scrambled out of class quickly, wondering if maybe he didn’t have to die alone. Maybe he could confess, and maybe (y/n) who had gushed to him about the painting he’d poured all his love into, would reciprocate. Maybe she had leaned in to try and kiss him, and maybe, just maybe, she really did like him back. Instead of stopping at the dining hall where he was supposed to meet Harrison and (y/n) he paced right past it, towards (y/n)’s class, trying to hype himself up the whole way.

(y/n) had spent the past few days with her mind full of questions. She had leaned in, hoping Tom would get the hint and they would kiss. It seemed to be going that way but then he stopped. Tom had seemed flirty while he was painting her, and she tried her best to show her own interest. He had even held her while they watched a movie, but then he didn’t kiss her. He just kissed her on the forehead and left. She was worried she had misread everything, and almost certain she had. She was anxious about seeing him for the first time since the almost kiss, worried things would be tense or weird. So she was quite worried when she spotted him outside of her class, worried he was about to tell her to never bring up the incident and forget anything happened.

“Hey,” she smiled to him, “What are you doing here?” “I came to talk to you,” he blushed a bit, “Uh, Ms. Miller really likes my painting, she thought I should enter it in this competition for up and comers.”

“Really? Tom that’s awesome, congrats!”

He nodded, “Yeah, thanks, I thought it was really cool too, but she said she thought it was good because she could really see my emotions.”

“Also awesome, you’re gonna ace that class.”

“Okay, but, um…” he trailed off for a minute, unsure of how to force the words out, “The emotion was love, that she saw I mean. She said she could tell I really loved you, a-and I know you know that I do love you, but I love you way more than any of my other friends, and it’s different too… I mean I know I’m like a struggling artist, and that’s not the most desirable thing, and I’m not this perfect, beautiful person like you are, but I do love you, and I love you so much it’s overwhelming sometimes. The best thing I’ve ever painted is you because I love you so much, romantically.”

She stood totally frozen, with wide eyes and her mouth hanging open, making Tom’s heart pound nervously against his chest. He thought he might black out but she moved suddenly, grabbing him by the neck and kissing him hard. Her lips were plump and soft and so much better than he could have imagined. He grabbed her waist, leaning into her with a smile.

“I love you too,” she smiled as she pulled away, “I think you’re perfect and I am totally crazy about you.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded excitedly, “Of course! How could I not? You’re incredibly talented and you're funny and your kind, Tom you’re amazing, of course I am so totally in love with you.”

He smiled and sealed their lips again, “Maybe we could go on a date sometime then?”

She nodded again, “Of course, but I’ve got one condition.”

“Anything.”

“There has to be more kissing.”

He laughed before pecking her lips again, “I think I can handle that.”

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sophiainspace · 3 years

Note

Mick & Zari 2.0 + social media

My Zari 2.0 voice seriously needs work, but I couldn’t resist a ficlet for this…

Someone bangs loudly on Zari’s door one evening. When she finally extracts herself from Catchat and opens it, she comes face to face with Mick. He’s managing to look even more sullen than usual. “The Rogues are on the internet,” he grumbles.

Zari blinks at him. “The who?”

“My old crew. I wanna know what they’re up to. Explain it to me.”

She tilts her head at him. “And what makes you think I won’t leave you in the dark out of respect for their privacy?”

Mick laughs. “Privacy? You? Nah. Anyway, it’s all public. It’s… whatsit. Social murderer.”

“Media,” Zari corrects patiently, because she knows Mick only does that as a defense mechanism, and she understands the need for shields and masks. “You seriously want to see what an old crew is doing? Why do you care?”

Shuffling from foot to foot, Mick shrugs. “They’re kinda like the Legends. You know - family. One of ‘em might as well be my baby sister. I helped raise her for long enough.” His gaze drops to the ground. “She put a thing on Twitter.”

Zari feels herself grin. “Oh! You want to spy on your little sibling using the considerable power of social networking. That, I can help with. Come in.”

Mick frowns as he follows Zari into her cabin. “I’m not good with the internet.”

“You write books, don’t you?” She opens her laptop. Probably better to start with a decent computer screen, than on a fiddly phone. She doesn’t even know if Mick knows how to use one of those.

“Yeah. On a typewriter.”

Zari sighs - she can already tell that this is going to be another evening like the torturous night she spent trying to explain TikTok to John - and opens Twitter, setting the temporal software to access the feed from September 2021. She pats the empty seat beside hers. Mick sits down at once, all awkward limbs in the small-ish chair, which is kind of adorable. “Okay. What’s her username?”

“Huh.” Mick stares up at the ceiling. “Gideon, what was the name on the thing she sent me?”

“Golden_Girl_85,” comes Gideon’s amused voice.

Zari pauses. She knows that username, a little too well. “Golden Glider is your surrogate baby sister?”

Mick sits forward in his seat. “Yeah. How d’you know her?”

Probably best not to tell Mick that Lisa Snart is quite the Twitter celebrity, in his time. Nor is Zari going to mention that she used to look up influencers through history for ideas, and ended up with a serious crush on the Golden Glider of the 2020s. “Oh, news compliations from your time, that kind of thing.” She fills out the search field, bringing up Lisa’s latest posts. “Is that the tweet she sent?”

Peering at the screen, Mick shrugs. “Couldn’t open it. Looks about right.”

Dressed in a gorgeous gold-studded leather jacket and perfect understated makeup, Lisa Snart is beaming at the camera, holding open a big duffel bag. If it were anyone else, Zari would be asking if those were real diamonds. She doesn’t bother. “She needs Instagram,” Zari murmurs appreciatively. “Or Catchat, but that won’t be a thing for a while, for her. Shame.” She catches Mick looking at her like he’s about to start glaring. “Well, that’s her account,” she says quickly. “I’d like to say it’s unwise of her to post stolen goods, but I have a feeling she knows how to cover her tracks.”

A rare smile breaks out on Mick’s face. It’s almost proud. “Damn right, she does.” He pokes the screen. “So I just go to Twitter and I can see her stuff, right there?”

“Yeah, if you can remember her username, but what you really need is to follow her.” Zari’s fingers fly across the keyboard, even as she’s internally bemoaning the lack of decent voice control. Ridiculous 2020s computers. “Let me set you up with an account. Hmm.” She smirks at Mick. “What do you want for a username? Firestarter_70?”

“I hate you for knowing when I was born,” he grumbles.

She pats his arm. “You couldn’t hate me if you tried, sweetie. And soon you’ll have just as much delicious free access to everyone else’s personal information.” She turns the screen so he can see his profile better. Well, he did turn up without his reading glasses. “There. One Twitter account, nice and anonymous. Now you can stalk as many of your old co-workers as you want.”

Mick narrows his eyes. “I want one of those little pictures.”

Zari manages not to smile. “A user icon? Sure. A photo, or something symbolic?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, scanning through search results for Heat Wave. She’s delighted to find a very artistic hand-painted image of the heat gun. She is not going to explain fan art to Mick. “There.”

Mick nods. “Ahhh. Good.”

“I’m glad you approve. And now I’ll just set you up to follow Golden Glider, and then we’re—”

“And the others.”

Zari sighs. “You want to follow the other - what did you call them - Rogues?”

Another firm nod. “That’s right.”

Her cursor hovers over the search field. “Got any usernames?”

Mick grunts. “One’s called Weather Wizard. And there’s Axel - can’t remember his code name. And Boo.”

Well, those are some ridiculous names. “You have a friend called Boo,” Zari echoes flatly.

“Ain’t her whole name. Peek-A-Boo.”

Any minute now, Zari is going to give up sighing, and take up growling like Mick. “Let’s see who Golden Glider is following.”

Mick’s eyes are wide at the screen. At least he’s entertained. “And then - what’s it called, the one Len liked. Facebook.”

Scrolling through Lisa’s following list, Zari gives Mick a defeated nod. “Fine. I can show you how Facebook works. Well, I can try. It’s a graveyard in my time.” She laughs. “It’s near enough a graveyard in your time, but I’ll give it a go.”

Mick nods in approval. “And what’s the one Rosa’s got… Instagram? She wouldn’t stop going on about it when I was in Central City last.”

Zari tries to imagine Mick Rory on Instagram. She has a hard-to-ignore fear that this is not going to go well. “Fine. If you promise not to post there.”

The put-out grunt is kind of cute. “Why can’t I post? Maybe I got pictures to show people.”

“Because you will offend the entire world, all at once,” Zari tells him absently. “Probably with something unhelpfully misogynistic, and not everyone knows you well enough to see the good heart under all that posturing. Do you know someone called Ragdoll?”

Mick yelps and covers his eyes. “No pictures of that clown!”

He doesn’t look much like a clown to Zari. More like a very skilled contortionist. Still, filing away the potentially useful knowledge that Mick isn’t keen on clowns, Zari keeps scrolling.

Two hours later, they’ve found all the various accounts of the Rogues, and Mick is using Facebook like he was born for it. Which, given his age, seems about right.

“Now TikTok,” he demands, bouncing in his seat. “The weasel told me he’s got a video there. If he gets a video, I want a video.”

Fascinated to have found out exactly where the limits of her patience are, Zari shows Mick out.

#headcanon ask game #mick rory #zari tarazi #gen #my fic #legends of tomorrow ficlet #none of us can queue this alone

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saltminerising · 3 years

Text

Running An Art Shop With Minimal Crying 101

Hey y’all, not sure what compelled me to write this Now but I wanted to put together a list of helpful ‘good business practice’ tips for artists who want to start selling commissions on FR and want to build up a good reputation and make bank. I’m not sure if I’d feel comfortable throwing this on the forums personally so here you go, y’all have to look at my stupidly long possibly helpful brutally honest post cuz I don’t know where else to put this.

I’ve been doing art on FR since I was a young teenager in 2015 and through that time I’ve definitely learned some lessons the hard way. I’ve taken on more than I could handle, I’ve let commissions rot for months because I got overwhelmed… you know what I mean. Here’s some of what I’ve learned over the years that’s helped me run a consistently successful art shop for well over a year now.

I don’t have a tumblr and I don’t know how to add a ‘read more’ to a submission, so happy scrolling <3 I apologize for causing some people a very minor inconvenience

-Do not take prepayment for either more than three commissions at a time, or more than the number of commissions you think you can finish within a month or two, whichever is smaller. This is especially true if you’re like me and you have ADHD. Trust me, the more commissions people have already paid for you have piled up in your to-do list, even if they’d only take you 20 minutes each, you will get more overwhelmed and discouraged and people will wonder why it’s taking you so long. Even if you aren’t getting concerned PMs, a lot of people are just too anxious or polite to ask for updates. (On the flipside, if you commissioned someone and haven’t gotten any word/updates in a while, you’re not in the wrong to ask how things are going and when you can expect an update.)

-Full payment upfront is something I definitely recommend for smaller pieces (headshots, sketches, etc) you can finish in one sitting. However- if you’re doing a ref sheet, a rendered fullbody, etc, and you’ll be spending multiple sessions on the piece and getting feedback for it multiple times- split it up, take half upfront and half either after the sketch is approved, or before you send them the final unwatermarked version. I’ve done dozens of commissions like this and never had a problem, personally. There’s a low chance of a customer backing out on you if you’ve already started and sent WIPs because, y’know, sunk cost, and on the other hand it is reassuring to customers (especially if your shop is new) that if you drop off the map, they paid $20 upfront and got at least a sketch, instead of paying $40 upfront for an unfinished piece.

-In the same vein: if you’re doing a large piece like a rendered fullbody, ref sheet, etc, more communication is always better than less! I always stay on the safe side here. Some people will tell you they just want you to go apeshit and do whatever you think will look cool, other people might have much more specific ideas of what they want and how closely your artwork needs to match the image of their character in their head. Send them the sketch and ask them if they want any changes. Send them the lineart and ask if it looks good. If you’re working on a time-consuming painting that will take you weeks to finish, please please please, communicate! Send updates! Your customers will feel a lot less anxious about how long you’re taking if you keep them posted (plus this is just a personal thing but I love seeing peoples’ artistic process, it sparks joy!!)

-If, once again, you’re like me and stuff like painted fullbodies take you so much longer than other commission types- the worst thing you can do is underprice. Let’s say a detailed, shaded dragon fullbody takes you, for instance, 8 hours, maybe longer because you get burned out and can’t finish it in just one sitting, but you don’t think people will buy an $80/8kg fullbody. Do not lower the price you think your art is worth. If fullbodies take you really long compared to other art, or you get unmotivated, just… don’t offer painted fullbodies, or scenes with multiple characters, or whatever. If there’s a form of art you’re capable of creating but it’s faster, more fun, and gets you more money to do smaller things, just do more smaller commissions instead of taking the big ones. This one was a lifesaver for me.

-Once again in the same vein: It is okay to say no. Just because you are physically/artistically capable of drawing a detailed scene of multiple dragons with complex apparel, doesn’t mean you won’t get burnt out or bored. For me, larger pieces take exponentially longer because I just get bored and don’t want to work on them anymore. If someone asks if you can draw something that will require so much of your personal time and effort to go into a single piece, just say no. Sometimes I’ll say yes to some big commissions because I think the character is cool and inspiring and I want to draw them; otherwise, I will admit, I’ve said no to big commissions because I personally found the character boring as hell (though I wouldn’t phrase it that way). And that’s ok!

-If you are going to be really busy in the near future, stop taking commissions. You have finals? Don’t say “sorry if things take forever, I have finals”… just don’t take the commissions while you’re busy. If you have too much on your plate, commissions will just stress you out more, and nobody likes to draw motivated by stress. There’s nothing wrong with temporarily pausing your art shop. Put your mental health first. And if you aren’t able to get commissions done on a regular basis because of mental health, or because you don’t give enough of a shit about other peoples’ characters: don’t do commissions. I don’t mean this in a bad way; I’ve been in that spot before and it’ll just cause more stress and guilt than it’s worth.

-NO PARAGRAPHS. That sounds hypocritical of me writing this lol but do not put long paragraphs in your art shop, ever. I promise nobody will read it. Put your rules, and any other information, in bullet points that are one or two lines. Keep your rules clear, simple, unambiguous and short, or everyone will ignore it and I won’t blame them. Put titles and subtitles wherever you can. If you have a block of text longer than probably five lines, it will be ignored by most people. I have decided not to buy art from people because I didn’t want to have to dig through blocks of text for information.

….so yeah I think that’s about all I can think of at the moment. time to sit back and get yelled at for not being able to shut the fuck up and get to the point lol, hope you (yes you) have a great day c:

#submission #long post #art tag 🏷

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agirlwhoisaphantom · 3 years

Text

Moonlight - Adam Sackler x Reader

Chapter 1 - Kid

Word Count: 5595

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, wet dream,

Author's Note: I've been hiding this fic for quite some time and I just thought it was finally time to post it. I hope you enjoy it. Just a little FYI this is a bit of a slow burn things don't pick up until chapter 3/4 soo.

__________________________

You were in your psychology class trying to pay attention, but you couldn't. You were spacing out. Thinking about all the things that you could have been doing instead of sitting there in class. You could have been at home catching up with that show you just started or learning that new recipe you found.

You see this 6'4 guy with long perfect hair with broad shoulders walk into the room. He had features of a god. He was gorgeous. He couldn't be a new student; it was already mid-semester. The school you attended was fairly small. You could've noticed him by now.

He looks around the room before he makes eye contact with you and starts walking in your direction. As he starts to get near you, he doesn't break eye contact. To him, you were a prize he was trying to reach.

Once he is right in front of you, towering where you were sitting, he grabs your chin and tilts it so you could see his face more clearly. "You'll soon get what you deserve, princess," he says in a seductive voice. He grabs you by your hand and pulls you out of your seat.

Dragging you out of the classroom to take you to the nearest closet.

As he opens the door, your anxiety rises, thinking about what might happen next. "Hey, aren't we going to get caught" you mentioned to him in a worried tone of voice.

He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you in closer to him. "Do as you are told, and we won't get caught." He whispers into your ear.

The space between you and him got smaller. Things were getting steamy-

BEEP

"Noooo, a couple more minutes, please." you yawned to yourself. It was a dream that you did not want to wake up from. You wondered who that person was and if you have met them somewhere.

As you reached over to grab your phone where your alarm was still going off, you checked the time, wanting to know if you could sleep for a couple more minutes to go back to dreaming about that person.

It was 7:30 AM, and your class started at 8:30 AM; usually, at this time, you were in the train station, but instead, you were dreaming about a man you have never seen before and wanting to get railed by him.

You rushed on getting ready, so you could catch a train before your class started.

---------------------------

New York City is one of the busiest cities globally, also a city that you have always wanted to live in since you were a kid.

When you and your best friend Amelia got accepted into NYU, you decided to live in the same apartment. Both of you wanted to experience everything together.

You have lived there for six years, and no matter what, there is always something new to discover, it could be a new fashion store that opened or a new McDonald's, cause there is a need for a McDonald's in every corner.

This is your last year of Graduate School at NYU. You were so tired of this, and you just wanted to graduate already.

After all your classes are over, you and Amelia would always meet at Café Grumpy to occasionally catch up and leave the house. You enjoyed the coffee and food from there.

Every time you went inside there, it smelled like fresh coffee, and Ray was always there as well. "Hello, welcome back to Café Grumpy, the usual, right?" He asked with a smirk on his face.

"Good afternoon, Ray, and yes, the usual." you snapped your fingers as you agreed to what he said.

You have known Ray for the past couple of years; you never knew him personally. But you two did exchange a couple of interactions. He would always be the one to prepare your coffee and Amelia's. You probably had more mental breakdowns in that shop, something that you were not proud of. Since Ray was much older than you, he would be there for you and give you the best advice he could.

You were spacing out. You hear Ray's voice. "Are you feeling better? I know it's been a rough couple of weeks since that break up with Oscar," he hands you your cup of coffee and Amelia's. Oscar was the guy you have dated for the past 2 ½ years but recently broke up with him because he was cheating on you.

A frown formed on your face. You didn't like remembering Oscar and what he did to you. "I'm doing fine; he didn't deserve me anyway. I was too good for him." There was a small sigh when you said that.

Amelia was walking towards where you were sitting at "That is correct. He never deserved a lovely, funny, realistic girlfriend like you. Even from the start, he didn't deserve you." she sounded straightforward and positive in what she said.

She always knew what to say to make your day. "Amelia, always telling me something I don't know" there was a sass on your tone. Your relationship with Oscar was toxic to the point where you forgot your self-worth and only focused on pleasing him. But after catching him cheating on you, it made you realize how strong of a person you were and how you didn't need him in your life.

"She's right, you know; any guy would be lucky to have you" Ray was smiling as he was handing you a breakfast sandwich. "just to let you know this is on me, I'll pay for you and Amelia's food and drinks. But don't get used to it because I won't be doing it all the time."

You weren't sure how to respond to what Ray has said, so you just decided to give a detailed response "hah, keep saying that, and I'll stay single for a while," you chuckled as he told you that. "Also, thanks, we'll repay you." you were grateful that Ray did that for you and Amelia once in a while.

What you told Ray made you think, were you going to be single for a while, or are you going to find someone right away. But then again, you wanted to love yourself before you loved someone else.

---------------------------------------

After hours of just talking to Amelia and Ray, it was time for you to head home. It was getting dark, and you had homework to do.

Afternoons were your favorite time to walk around because of the sunsets. No matter how long you have lived in New York, you would have always taken pictures. By now, your gallery was full of those sunsets instead of images with your friends or family.

You lived in Manhattan, probably the cheapest place in New York you could find. The apartment wasn't that big; it had two bedrooms, one bath, a small kitchen and living space, and a balcony that connected your bedroom to Amelia's. It was big enough for two people to live in. It was decorated very minimalistic; of course, some of the landscape pictures you took and some portraits that Amelia has painted throughout the apartment.

Looking through the cabinets and through the fridge, you noticed you had all the ingredients to make chicken alfredo with mashed potatoes" Hey, are you craving chicken alfredo with some mashed potatoes?" You were taking out the ingredients to make the food. You were the one to cook all the time since you enjoyed cooking and did not mind cleaning the mess afterward. "Even if you're not, I'm still making it because I am craving it."

Amelia was browsing through Netflix, trying to figure out what to put "whatever you want to make, you know I'll shove it down my throat."

Your phone that was across the table started to ring. As you picked it up, you saw the name Oscar. Your heart started to beat fast. You had a blank stare as you watched your phone just ring.

Amelia notices your blank face, "Is it Oscar again? Gosh, when is he going to leave you alone" she rolls her eyes. She starts walking towards you to see if you need any comfort or if you wanted her to answer.

"Yeah, it's him. Can you answer the phone for me? I'm not sure if I can talk to him" you gave her your phone.

This was not the first time he called after the breakup. Usually, you would just ignore the calls. This time it was different because of the talk you had earlier with Amelia and Ray. The thought of you giving someone everything just for them to go behind your back to do that was a scary thought.

While your mind wondered with all these thoughts, you could hear Amelia just yelling at the phone. Telling Oscar to leave me alone and just to let the relationship we once had go.

Hearing him argue with Amelia in the other room made you want to curl up in bed. But instead, you just sucked it up and started making the food because the food will never hurt your feelings or cheat on you.

Amelia walks into the kitchen and places the phone on the counter. "He is such a jerk. I still don't understand how you decided to date him. Out of all the people in New York, you decided to spend two and ½ years with him." She was rambling on how much she disliked Oscar. You zoned out, not wanting to pay attention to what she was saying.

"I don't understand either, but hey, can we just talk about something else; I need a distraction."

While you were finishing the food, Amelia was still browsing through Netflix, trying to find something the both of you could watch.

Amelia gives you a look of regret as you approach her with the food. "I'm sorry that I exploded on you about Oscar. What he did was unacceptable. I hate seeing you hurt over a stupid guy," she mentions as you give her a plate of food.

There was a small pause in between as you sat next to her. "It's okay, Amelia. I'm hurting over a dumb boy."

Once you finished your homework and the movie that Amelia put on the TV, it was already nighttime. Your mind wanders back to the dream you had. Who was this guy, and have you seen him before.

Amelia had her bed, but sometimes she would come over to your bed and sleep with you. Especially during times like this, where you needed her company. Amelia was scrolling through Instagram, trying to find new inspiration for her latest painting. "Hey, Amelia, do you know if we know anyone that is around 6'4 that had perfect shaggy hair?" you asked her, trying not to make it obvious that it was a dream.

She got up and sat up quickly as you caught her attention "oh, so now we have a new lover, and it's not been two months past your breakup" she was looking at the way you would react to her saying that. But your face was not showing any signs that you might have met someone new or even talked to someone new. You looked confused, and all you wanted answers. "Hey, don't look at me like that. We both have a busy life outside of these four walls, you don't expect me to know every single move that you do, and no, we do not know anyone that fits that description."

"Oh, okay, just asking" you wanted to drop the topic as fast as you could. "We should go to sleep. I have work tomorrow, and you do too"

You turn off the lights and proceed to go to bed.

---------------------------------

"Such a naughty girl, listening to what daddy wants to do, does it turn you on being here in the closet with me at the university you attend at huh."

It seemed like it picked up right where it left off. Oddly enough, it was the same guy you dreamt of last night.

You stood there quietly as you tried to analyze his beautiful face.

He proceeds to tell you all the things he wants to do to you. "I want you to get on all fours and not make a sound," he whispers into your ears; as he does that, he wraps his big hand around your throat.

You nodded your head in agreement "yes. I'll stay as quiet as I need to-"

BEEP

"Ugh, not again." This time, you woke up on time. When getting ready, you decided to wear something that hugged your curves perfectly—a turtleneck shirt with a cardigan and a nice pair of jeans with some heels.

On the days you didn't have class, you worked as a secretary at a lawyer's office, it was not your dream job, but it did pay you well. Your boss was chill about you going to work a couple of minutes late. She knew how busy the streets could get, and if you were able to pass by a coffee shop and get her coffee, she would forgive you for your delay.

As you were walking the same route, you wanted to catch up on some of your reading. The people around you were too focused on making sure they got to their destination on time instead of focusing on whether you were on their way.

Out of sudden, you bump into with 6'4 man, "Hey, watch it Ki-" he froze. To him, you were the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

You panic. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you," you were trying to gather yourself. As you made eye contact with him, you noticed that he had the same features as the guy you have been dreaming about. But seeing him in person, he was more attractive.

We stared at each other for a couple of minutes.

"umm yeah, it's alright kid, are you new around here? I have never seen you before" He looks at you like there's nothing else around but you. He looks up and down, looking at how perfectly your outfit hugged your curves. "Can I just mention that you are gorgeous and hot, wow"

You smiled and tucked in your hair behind your ear "thank you" This was the first time you have ever gotten a compliment in a very long time; you were unsure how to react. "Yeah, I have been here for a couple of years. I mean, it's a pretty big city. I doubt that you would have ever seen me" You never thought you would imagine that the guy you were dreaming about would live in the same city you did.

There was a small pause in between what you had said, "Is there a place that you need to be? I can walk you there. I want you to get there safely" He insisted on taking you to work. He didn't show any signs of being a creep, so of course, you agreed that he could walk with you.

The whole time you walked together, it was quiet, but having his presence next to you, was calming. It was odd. You have never felt this calm next to a stranger.

As you both get to the building that you worked at, "Hey, I know that we haven't known each other for long, and this walk was quiet, but I would like to get to know you." You scanned his face to see if he was lying or just trying to be weird. But no, he was genuine. "I would love to take you out to get coffee sometime if that's okay with you" He looked unsure if he wanted to ask you that. Maybe it was the fear of rejection.

You had a small smile on your face. You wanted to know him as well. "So far, I've enjoyed our quiet walk, and It would be lovely to grab a cup of coffee sometime" You take out some sticky notes and a pen from your purse and start writing down your number with a little heart next to the last digit. "Here, take this, don't blow up my phone, or I'll block you, okay" You hand him the sticky note with a smirk on your face.

The moment you mentioned a number, that's when his face lit up with the most dorkish yet cute smile. "Aye, Aye, Captain, I can't make any promises that I won't."

Walking towards the building, you felt like someone was watching you. You turn around to see who it might be, and it was him. He wanted to make sure that you go into the building safely. Then you realized that you didn't even know his name and how you gave him your number in a heartbeat. That was the dumbest thing you have done. But what is the worst he can do? He didn't know your name either. He can probably just send it to spam callers.

Either way, you didn't regret giving him your number.

Deep down, you thought, 'he'll never text me or call me. He was just nice by walking me to work. I'll never get to see him again.' Before you enter your shift, you text Amelia every time you get there, so she knows you got there and nothing happened to you on the way. You didn't tell her that you met this guy and that you willingly gave him your number. To you, it didn't matter. It's not like you were going to see him again.

Hours go by. It was already the end of your shift. You said your goodbyes to your boss and coworkers.

As you check your phone, you notice that there were three new messages from an unknown number. You took a deep breath as you unlocked your phone, thinking it was probably spam messages or reminders that you needed to pay your bills.

2:12 PM Hello Kid, it's me, that rando that walked with you

2:30 PM, please tell me this is your actual number and not some random person's number

3:23 PM, it probably is, well, shit. But if it is yours, call me when you get out of work. I want to go ahead and buy you coffee.

Reading those messages brought a smile to your face. Even without knowing his name, it made you happy that he texted you.

Your heart is racing as you call him, thinking that he isn't going to pick up.

"Hey kid, so you didn't give me a random person's number, huh" You could hear the excitement in his voice through the phone.

"Hello there, actually no, this is a random person's number, you got fooled" there was a small giggle that came out.

He went along with what you said, knowing for sure it was you and not someone else. "darn it. Either way, is this random person willing to grab some coffee in about 10 minutes."

"She accepts, and she will be waiting for you to come. Don't be late. I don't like it when people are late and especially when it comes to my coffee."

"Aye, Aye Captain, I won't be late, not even a second late."

"I'm holding your word to that, hah."

When you hung up the phone, you had the biggest smile on your face. The thoughts of 'how come this nameless person was able to make me feel this way' were going through your head. It felt like you were a teenager with a high school crush. This was a new feeling to you. You never experienced having these emotions over some guy.

Eight Minutes pass by, and you see that 6'4 gorgeous man was walking outside of the building you work at, waving his hand trying to catch your attention. You grab your bags and start walking towards the door. Before you could push the door, he opens it for you. "Thank you" You lock eyes with him, and that feeling from earlier where nothing matters came back. The sound of cars honking and people walking by didn't matter because it was only you and him.

"You are very welcome. There's a new coffee place that opened up not that long ago that I want to take you". He points to the left, and of course, there was a big sign on the shop saying, 'NEW LOCATION' You agreed to go with him, and you didn't care where you two went. All you wanted to do was spend time with him.

Both of you were walking to the coffee shop, and it was relatively small and very casual. There was loud music playing in the background. He opened the door for you, and inside, it smelled like fresh coffee. The inside was beautiful. The tones were very earthy and brown colors. Even if you didn't come with him, you would have loved to be in this place. It felt like home. While you two were getting in line, you finally asked him the question that has been in your head all day. "Something that has been bugging me is that I'm here grabbing coffee with a person that I don't even know; you might be a murder or a cat person, and I wouldn't even know your name."

He makes a facepalm motion when he realizes that you were right. You didn't know his name, and he didn't know yours. "shit, you are right. I haven't even told you my name. It's Adam."

Adam, why was that so fitting for him. You never thought that this beautiful man would have the most straightforward name. You loved his name already. You tell him your name, and the way he reacted was the cutest. "So that's the captain's name. To be fair, that is a beautiful name." You had a smile, and your cheek turned into a rosy color. You never thought that he would react to your name like that, mainly because he could have met a lot of people with that same name.

To him, your name meant more than just a random person's name. He didn't care if other people had the same name as you. He only cared about knowing your name.

The line got shorter, and it was your time to order what you wanted to drink. You look over the menu, and the most appealing drink you could see was a Macchiato. That was your safe drink when it came to new coffee places.

As you look over the menu, Adam stares at you, the way your eyebrows are shaped, the way you look so concentrated on reading every word on the menu. As before bumping into you, you were still the most beautiful person he has ever seen. "Are you ready to order what you want?"

Looking over the menu one more time, just making sure that a Macchiato was something you wanted. "I think so. I'll probably just want a macchiato, something simple."

"Do you want anything to eat? It's probably been hours since you have last eaten," he says in a concerning voice.

Even though you were hungry and wanted to order something to eat, you didn't want him to waste more money on you. "No, that would be it. I can probably get something to eat on the way home. Thank you, though. I appreciate it."

While waiting for the drinks to be ready, you two go sit down. It was quiet for a while before they called Adam's name to go and get the drinks. Hearing his name just brightened your day. You thought, 'I don't think I would ever get tired of hearing his name.' As he walked in your direction, you can't help but notice how big his hands were.

"Here is the macchiato for the lady" While you grab your cup of coffee from his hands, you notice how small your hand looked compared to his. "now that we are here, tell me about yourself." He wanted to know everything about you, from what you like to eat to what you like to do in your free time.

"Well, I'm in my last year of graduate school in NYU, getting my Human Development and Social Intervention Master's degree, gosh that was a handful to say. I work at a law office." There was a pause as you were trying to think of things you did in your free time. "There's nothing that exciting about my life, really." All you did was go to work and school. It made you realize how it has been a cycle your whole time you were in here.

With the facial expression, you can tell that he wanted to say 'really,' but instead, he said something else. "That sounds like some bull. Getting a degree in Human development or some shit like that is quite interesting" he was interested in what you were saying. "Also, I doubt that is all you do. There must be something else, a hobby? A show you enjoy watching." He did not believe one bit that your life could be boring.

Talking about yourself was not something you did on a day-to-day basis. So when Adam started asking these questions, it was really hard for you to think about it. He was the first person to ask you to talk about yourself in a very long time. You were unsure what to tell him, as you were stirring your coffee with a spoon, trying to figure out what to say. He grabs your hand that was just resting on the table. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me. If you don't feel comfortable telling me it's cool, I understand" He was reassuring you that you didn't have to tell him anything you didn't want to.

He still holds your hand, making sure that you are comfortable around him. He didn't want to mess things up with you. He wanted to flirt with you and kiss you, but he also wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

The place started to get packed, and the walls felt like they were closing in on you. You began to feel claustrophobic with the number of people around. "Adam, can we leave the place and walk around?" You needed to get out of the place before more people came in.

He grabs your bag and helps you get up from the chair. You started to walk forwards, and even though you couldn't see him, you could feel his presence behind you. As you both left the shop, you turned around to make sure he was right behind. You wait for him as he catches up to you. You go ahead and wrap your arm around his. He had a slight smile when you did that. "I'm sorry for not answering your questions. Usually, no one asks me to talk about myself, so I'm unsure what to say."

He understood, and he was in the same boat as you. No one asked him to talk about himself either. If you were to ask him, he would freeze just like you did. "It's alright, kid, let's take you home. It's getting late" This was the second time he walked you to your location. He wanted you to get home safely and wanted to stay with you for a longer time.

This time it wasn't a quiet walk, you joked around with him, and he joked around with you. The way you both talked, it seemed like you knew each other for years and not only for a day.

You were the first girl he didn't want to take home and hook up with. You were different, he wanted something new, and he wanted to experience it with you.

You were outside the building of your apartment, and you see Amelia run towards you and Adam. "Where were you, it's past 6:30, and you are usually here earlier. I was about to set an Amber Alert on your ass" She hugs you ignoring the man next to you. As she lets go, she finally notices him and gives him a perplexed look. She pulls you away from Adam. She didn't know him. She thought he was some creep just trying to get to know where you lived. "You can go now. You don't need to walk her in." She had a disgusted look on her face while she made the shoo motion.

You were embarrassed that she was acting that way. Usually, she wouldn't mind if a guy walked me home. You gave Adam a look that you were sorry. "I'm so sorry. I never thought this would be the way you two meet. Amelia, this is Adam" You had a frustrated look on your face. You didn't want Amelia to know about Adam until you were sure that you wanted to talk to him for a while. 'I guess faith has another plan for me, instead of letting me do my own thing.' Instead of keeping that thought to yourself, you said it out loud without even knowing that you did.

Adam and Amelia both heard what you said and giggled.

Adam stares at you like he had the heart eyes emoji on his face. Amelia noticed how he was looking at you and decided to walk into the building, so you and he would have a moment together. You knew the moment you entered the apartment, she would be asking you a ton of questions. The idea of going home felt like a nightmare, but that's where your bed was at, so you didn't have a choice.

After what happened between the three of you, you were unsure if he ever wanted to talk to you again. If it was you, after that, you would have just run the opposite way. He could feel that you were worried. "If you think that Amelia scared me away from you, you thought completely wrong." He wraps his arms around you, and you hug him back. Feeling his warmth was one of the best feelings in the world. You were so much tinier than him, so hugging him felt like you were hugging a bear. After a couple of more minutes, letting him go was hard. Adam looks up and notices that Amelia is looking down to where you and he were standing. "It's getting late, and I can see that someone is creepily watching us." You look up, and you see the same thing that Adam did. You both giggled that Amelia wasn't trying to hide that she was staring at the both of you.

Watching him walk away made you sad. You wanted to spend more time with him.

Entering the apartment, Amelia rushed to open the door before you could. She had a ton of questions ready for you on a notepad. You took her hand and walked towards the couch. The questions went from “where did you meet him? How did you meet him?... etc.” You answered every question, even though you really didn’t want to. “So you met him, and you didn’t plan on telling me” she grabbed the pillow that was right next to her and smacked you with it. You went ahead and grabbed a pillow next to you and started to have a pillow fight.

Hours passed by, you finished your homework, your readings, and finished cooking dinner. As you are getting ready to go to bed. All you could think about was him, how sweet he was to you, how beautiful his face was, just the thought of Adam. Your phone starts to ring as these thoughts continue. You look over to your phone to see who it was, and it was Adam.

There was noise in the background. It sounded like there was construction going on. “Hey Kid, what are you doing up so late? Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Hey Goof, Fun fact I was about to go to bed, but you called, meaning that you interrupted me from going to bed.” You were tucking yourself to bed at this moment.

“I’ll just buy you coffee tomorrow.” He mentions in a sweet tone of voice.

“I hate that you have only known me for a day and already know that I love coffee” It was the opposite. You didn’t mind if he knew that you enjoyed drinking coffee. Instead of just remembering how your body was shaped, he would remember you by something you enjoyed drinking.

Adam was thinking about you before he decided to call you. He missed you. He missed the way your voice sounded. “I’m going, being honest with you, I was just thinking about you, and I thought I would call you.”

Did that comment just make your heart flutter? Yes, indeed it did. It’s crazy how in just one day of meeting Adam, you never felt happier. He made you feel things that you thought you’d never feel again.

You both talked for an hour straight, just talking about the tv show you were just watching; meanwhile, he was talking about wanting to build a boat in his apartment. But no matter what, you never have that awkward pause in between topics.

Once the call ended, It made you realize that this was just the beginning and that it would be a bumpy road ahead. But it didn’t matter because it was with him.

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler fic #adam sackler x you #adam sackler x y/n #sackler x reader #sackler #adam driver character #adam driver fic #adam driver imagine

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lilbabycee · 4 years

Text

bunny // steve rogers (part one) 🐰

READ PART TWO

↳ summary: the reader finds herself in a little bit of trouble... financially. enter steve rogers.

↳ relationship: soft dark!steve rogers x brat!reader

↳ word count: 5.6k

↳ warnings: sugar baby au, eventual dark steve, daddy kink, eventual smut, mentions of substance abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms + relationships, the reader is rich and a little bit of a bitch

↳ author’s note: i started writing this series ages ago but i’m thinking that maybe posting it on here will give me the inspiration to continue! please enjoy! ❤️

chapter one: you expensive you know that?

—

" you expensive, you know that?

i'm high-maintenance a little but not in a, not in a negative way

i just like extremely expensive things"

- faithful, drake

—

“But Daddy-!”

“No, absolutely not,” your father shuts you down without hesitation which immediately makes your eyes water.

“Please, I promise I won’t do it again-”

“That’s what you said the last time,” he reminds you nonchalantly and you can hear the rapid clicking of a keyboard in the background of the call. He’s not even paying full attention to you, likely still working on whatever the CEO of a multi- billion dollar corporation needs to work on.

“But I’m serious this time!” you insist, cocking a hip and tapping your acrylics loudly on the top of your marble kitchen counter. “You know what I’m like - I swear I’ll do better this time-”

“Nope,” his hard tone cuts you off as you hear his office phone ring. He sighs loudly over the receiver which makes your heart fall. “Look, honey-”

You know what’s coming and you can’t even try to stop it.

“-I’ve got another call coming in. I’m not sending you another dime until you can prove to me that you have the ability to be financially independent. I didn’t pay for all of those expensive private schools so that you could sit on your ass all day and blow my money like it’s in endless supply. You have all the necessary credentials to go and get a well-paying job, so go get one, goddammit. And please call your mother - she’s been trying to call you all day. Neither of us have any time left to entertain your little addictions nor your blatant disregard for the hard work that we’ve put in to get you where you are today.

“You’ve proven to me before that you are grossly incapable of doing even the simplest of tasks, so don’t let me down with this one,” he sighs loudly. “Sometimes, I wish you were more like my colleagues’ kids - they’re doctors and lawyers but all you are is ungrateful. I’ve really gotta take this call,” he says your name sternly which makes you tap your nails even faster. “Do as you’re told for once in your damn life.”

“Daddy-!” you borderline shriek once more before the phone clicks and he’s off attending to more important business.

You don’t even realize that you’re pouting until your lips start to tremble, nor do you realize how much his words have gotten to you until you touch your cheek gently with your fingertips and they come back wet and glistening like gold in the warm light of day.

Maybe he’s right. You’ve been living in this penthouse for the past year without having to worry about anything. You loved it when you attended the first viewing, mainly because of the huge windows, three bedrooms and bathrooms (that you definitely don’t need because you live alone), the open plan, spacious kitchen and living areas, and the fact that all of your neighbors are either famous or excessively wealthy like you. You saw the acquirement of this apartment as a prime opportunity to further climb the social ladder, not that it’s really all that hard for you considering the fact that your father is one of the richest people in not only New York but the entire country. But you’d lived in Italy for a year prior to moving back to New York and upon your return to the USA, you decided that you really wanted to re-establish a name for yourself here, of course with the help of your father. He bought the penthouse almost the moment that you said you had your eye on it, and he just kind of…left you here. He’s only come to visit a handful of times since you bought it two years ago, though your mother has been over far more frequently to your utter dismay.

You inhale deeply through your nose, your eyelash extensions fluttering dramatically against your cheekbones. Grabbing your phone - the newest iPhone that you bought after you broke your other one at your friend Peter’s party - you sulk over to one of your ridiculously overpriced couches and fall dramatically - but not dramatically enough to crease the material of your latest drunk purchase, a white Gucci jumpsuit - on top of all your throw pillows, the picture of a damsel in distress. Your freshly manicured toes - painted white yesterday - curl into the softness of it as you huff, dabbing delicately at your face again to rid yourself of any traces of sadness before thinking about what the hell you’re going to do next.

Yes, you have a savings account that is far more than enough for you and your grandchildren’s grandchildren to live lavish lives and while that’s all well and good, even you know that you probably shouldn’t spend that... but it’d have to do until you found another way to get your money. With that, you shrug noncommittally and your face ID unlocks your phone so that you can start your newest endeavor - buying one of everything off of Alexander Wang.

Sure, you should be proactive and take initiative to finally take the steps to distance yourself from your parents, but you’ve only just had your twentieth birthday. After graduating from high school at fifteen - yes, fifteen: your parents really pushed you, to say the least, and it helped that you were naturally intelligent beyond the capabilities of even the nation’s best high school teachers - you started your undergraduate at Harvard in the fall and finished at eighteen. You took what you dubbed an ‘extended summer vacation’ - hence Italy - and now you’re at an impasse.

Okay, admittedly your various interests - you refuse to call them addictions because they’re really not that serious - that may or may not include a wide array of party drugs and alcohol probably don’t make you the most trustworthy person in the eyes of your parents. But you’ve done everything that they’ve told you to do for the past twenty years of your life - can they blame a girl for wanting to have a little fun? A smile spreads across your face as, while scrolling, you spy the blue dad jeans that were completely out of stock just last week and quickly add them to your cart with a sense of self-satisfaction before continuing to add almost everything else to your bag. It’s not like you’re heavily dependent on anything - substance abuse is not a good look for you: it was definitely more early 2000s than now - and you only do them recreationally in social situations, so your parents really have nothing to worry about. They’re overly paranoid about you somehow tarnishing their image when in reality, your work in and outside of an academic setting has really bolstered their reputation more than they could have ever hoped for - not to toot your own metaphorical horn, but your endless philanthropic work coupled with your eagerness to “make a change” and your work in fashion has put you on the Forbes 30 Under 30 every year since you were fifteen.

You press the checkout button and your Apple Pay seamlessly completes the purchase for you: $29,000. Shrugging noncommittally, you lock your phone and stare pensively at the picturesque view of New York City outside of your window; that is until Alexa alerts you that Natasha is calling you.

Perfect timing.

Natasha’s voice echoes over the loudspeakers in the ceiling. “Hey, bunny,” she greets you and you groan loudly at the nickname, restlessly hopping up to grab a glass of water from your kitchen.

“Hey Nat,” you reply, more of a whine than anything else, and she laughs loudly at your tone.

“What happened to you? “

“Daddy cut me off,” you huff, walking to the couches in front of the TV and settling down with your glass of water. With a press of a few buttons on the universal remote, you FaceTime your best friend instead - a flash of red hair and then a blindingly white smile. She assesses you on your couch and laughs again, a full-bodied cackle that only intensifies your pout.

“It’s not funny,” you protest, although the corners of your lips are quirking up in amusement at her ridiculous laughter.

“What did I tell you?” Natasha struggles to get the words out in between chuckles. “I knew he was gonna do this-”

“Yeah, so did I, but I didn’t think he’d do it this soon-!”

“I’m surprised he didn’t do it sooner,” Natasha moves around a little before propping her phone up against her knees so that you can see her sitting comfortably in her bed. She starts picking at her own black acrylics, “and you can’t deny, bunny-”

“Don’t say I deserve this,” you narrow your eyes at her, and Natasha only sends you her signature smirk.

“I wouldn’t say you deserve it, per se,” Natasha begins, “but you’ve gotta admit,” she says your name, clearly on the verge of laughter again, “I like a party as much as the next girl, but you do go a little overboard-”

“I wouldn’t say overboard,” you insist, suddenly taking up a very keen interest in your cuticles. “Here’s what it is: Mother doesn’t like the fact that I don’t like her and Daddy’s just flat out disappointed in me for no reason-”

“-apart from the fact that you very nearly got caught doing lines of blow off of Senator Pierce’s son-”

“Shhhh,” you interrupt her, closing your eyes and pressing a finger to your lips while shaking your head, unable to fight the growing grin on your face. “That was one time-”

“You mean the one time you got caught-?”

“Yes, Natasha, that’s what I mean. Anyway - you never call me like this unless you need something - thought you were gonna text me instead. What’s up? Is it Bru-”

“Oh, no,” Natasha quickly cuts you off, her cheeks flushing red. “Bruce and I have been over for a while now-”

“You were just talking about him last week-”

“Yeah, yeah,” she deflects, tapping her fingers on her thigh. “I was actually calling to see if you wanted to go shopping for Parker’s party that’s tonight-?”

“Yes, absolutely yes - why would you even have to ask-?”

“Okay, cool,” she interrupts you, smiling toothily. “Get Jarvis to get you there by 2:30 - I wanna go to the Louis store: the summer collection just dropped-”

“Sounds perfect-”

“But one more thing,” she says your name again but in a more concerned tone. You finish your glass of water and set it on the coffee table before leaning forward slightly.

“What’s going on, Nat?”

“I’m worried about you, bunny,” both her eyes and her tone have softened drastically, making you purse your lips. “What’re you gonna do now that your dad’s not giving you any more money?”

You sigh loudly through your nose, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Nat,” you admit, snapping a hair tie against the skin of your wrist rapidly. “I’ll just have to find a job - or do more sponsorships and ads and get back into modeling and maybe actually try acting this time?”

Her green eyes pin you to your couch, even through the screen, and she scrutinizes your face for almost a full thirty seconds before scrunching up her nose and nodding hesitantly. “Alright. As long as you’re sure that you can make it work… because if not, I have an option that I think you may like…”

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline as you motion for her to continue.

“Y’know how Wanda got really into that thing a couple of years ago?”

Your brain works overtime, trying to remember exactly what it was that Wanda was doing - all you remember is that it was fairly secretive and she didn’t tell you a lot about why she kept sneaking around.

“She was seeing that older guy,” you snap your fingers when you remember, Natasha’s slow nod confirming it, and then promptly frown because-

“What does this have to do with me?” You stare directly into Natasha’s eyes as she falters, obviously wondering if it’s too late to just backtrack altogether - yes, it is - and then she sighs.

“She wasn’t just seeing him,” your best friend starts slowly, choosing her words with great care, “she was his sugar baby.”

Now, this is news to you.

“You’re fucking with me,” you scoff in disbelief. “Wanda?”

Natasha keeps nodding, blowing her bubblegum between her rouge-painted lips until it pops with a sharp snap. “I’m serious, you can go ask her. But believe me, I was just as surprised as you when she first told me-”

“She didn’t tell me,” you murmur, something akin to betrayal burning your tear ducts. Natasha only barks out a laugh and clucks her tongue at you in a decidedly motherly way.

“Of course she didn’t tell you,” the redhead snorts, shaking her head. “She didn’t want you getting any ideas,” she says your name through a laugh, “you were - what - like eighteen two years ago? That would’ve been questionable at best -”

“But you guys didn’t know that I was gonna do anything-”

“Come on, bunny,” Natasha pins you with a look that shuts you up almost immediately. “Give us some credit - we’re not dumb and we know you-”

“Fine,” you drag out the last syllable of the word childishly. “So why mention it to me now?”

“Because you’re old enough… and in a situation where your Daddy’s not paying for any of your stuff anymore.”

You tilt your head to the side, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Yeah, okay, but I’ve got, like, a lot of other opportunities that I don’t even need to work for,” you tell her cockily, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “Why should I take this one when I could get any other real job so easily?”

Natasha’s lips curve into that same smirk. “Because you’re a whore.”

You collapse into a fit of giggles but she’s right. Really and truly, you are - what you like to call - a self-proclaimed slut. But any woman who’s free enough in her sexuality seems to be one these days, so you own the title that’s been hurled at you like an insult for so many years. You wear it with pride... for the most part, but not too much pride because you still have parents who still - somehow - think you’re a total virgin.

(you are still a virgin but your promiscuity makes people think otherwise)

“Right,” you agree easily, tapping your nails on the arm of the couch.

“Just something for you to think about,” Natasha hums, checking the time on her watch before rubbing the sleeve of her white Balenciaga hoodie over her face “Now, leave me alone. I’ve gotta go get ready; I’ll see you in a few.”

Without any further conversation, she ends the call and leaves you laughing light-heartedly although something heavy continues to weigh on your conscience. A sugar daddy. You can’t lie to yourself and say that it’s something that you’ve never thought about before - because it most definitely is - and it’s been the shameless subject of some of your filthiest dreams. Are you going to lie and say that you don’t have an… affinity for older men? No, you aren’t. Are you gonna tell yourself that the idea of a man spoiling you doesn’t make heat burn in your core? Absolutely not. However, you’ve never thought of yourself as the submissive type. Your confidence - no, cockiness has always been a real defining trait for you and that’s always worked in your favor when it comes to romance or even sex. You take what you want, rather than waiting for it to come to you. Although, you have a feeling that an attitude like that could get you in a lot of trouble in circumstances like these.

But what’s life without a little danger?

—

You’ve put on a tight, cropped black t-shirt and on top, a brown Fendi mini dress with thin spaghetti straps that clings to your body like a second skin; your feet are clad in heeled Louboutin ankle boots. Grabbing your black Prada bag and almost comically giant black, square Burberry sunglasses, you stare at your reflection in the mirror. You only put on a little bit of blush, mascara, and tinted lipgloss, accessorizing with small golden hoops, an array of rings that have been gifted to you by either your father or your ex-boyfriends and a simple gold necklace that spells out ‘bunny’ in cursive, a gift from Natasha. Satisfied, you slide your sunglasses onto your face and head to the elevator, phone in hand.

When you reach the lobby, Jarvis is waiting for you, holding the door open with a kind smile on his face.

“Miss,” he greets you, ushering you out the door. You basically jump on him, winding your arms around his neck and he chuckles as you sway back and forth in your embrace.

“Afternoon, Jarvis,” you grin at him.

The two of you walk outside to the black Range Rover with the tinted windows - black matches your outfit today - and as you climb in the back, your security detail split up into the other SUVs in front and behind you.

“So, what’s the plan today?” Jarvis asks you conversationally, stopping at a red light not even 15 seconds after you pull away from the front of your apartment. Damn New York traffic.

“Nat and I are going to Nordstrom’s,” you tell him despite the fact that he already knows, but he nods regardless. “And then Peter Parker’s hosting a party tonight.”

“And will you be needing a ride to that event?”

“No thanks, J,” you shoot him a smile before looking back down at your phone. “I’ll probably get a ride with Natasha.”

Jarvis nods and the rest of the ride passes in comfortable silence, the radio playing softly and the clicking of your nails on your phone screen the only sounds in the car.

—

“There’s absolutely no way you’re wearing that-”

“Shut up, Nat!” you squeal, grabbing the dress off the rack. “It’s kinda cute!”

Your best friend rolls her eyes at you fondly, staring at the monstrosity that you’re clutching in your hands.

“Tell me you’re kidding,” she deadpans, searching your face almost desperately for any sign of sarcasm.

You act offended: “I’m not!”

Nat just pokes you in the sides, tugs on your earlobe, and continues her hunt, which makes you burst into loud laughter and leaves the store employees looking at the two of you in what you’ve come to recognize as contained, professional amusement.

—

It’s about an hour before the party starts when you even start thinking about getting ready. In a Versace robe with your hair wrapped up in a towel, you’re scrolling through Instagram with a mud mask on. Nat comes into the room and shrieks at the sight of your face, making you flick your eyes up and grin as wide as the mask lets you. With her hand over her heart, she stares at you dryly while silent little chuckles shake your whole body.

“You’re in a good mood,” she remarks, eyeing you with an air of suspicion.

“Of course I am, Nat,” you look at her in disbelief. “I’m about to get wasted tonight-”

She interrupts you by calling your name out in a warning tone. Your only response is a dramatic roll of your eyes.

“We’re going so that we can have fun, not so you can go on a bender-”

“I won’t!” you drop your phone and throw your hands up in exasperation. “Holy shit, Mom - do you have no confidence in me?!”

Loud silence hangs in the air for a minute while Nat just blinks at you.

“...remember when you left me alone in Manhattan because you went to go trip on acid with Senator Coulson’s son-”

“Oh my God, Nat, okay, I get it - I’m a shitty friend and a drug addict, blah blah blah, whatever-”

“You’re not an addict,” she corrects you. “You just... really like doing drugs.”

You shrug, stretching your arms over your head, bringing them back down and then slapping your hands loudly on the bare skin of your thighs. The sound makes Nat flinch which amuses you mildly before you yawn loudly.

“Need me to help you with anything before I start getting ready?” you offer, knowing that once you start getting ready, you’re going to be in your own little world for about an hour and a half.

Natasha - who is significantly less high-maintenance than you - shakes her head. You nod, standing up and heading into her bathroom to wash the mud off your face.

“Did you think about what I told you earlier?” she asks, following you into the spacious room to lay on the chaise tucked against the wall behind you. You lock eyes with her in the mirror as she stretches herself out like a feline.

“Yeah,” you say nonchalantly. “Just for a little, but I don’t know if that kinda thing is for me.”

She runs her tongue over her bottom lip, looking down at her nails. “Oh, okay. I was just wondering ‘cause Wanda said there would be some people that she knows are into that kinda thing at Parker’s tonight-”

Oh, now your interest is peaked. You whip around, towel still in hand from drying your face, and stare her dead in the eye.

“For real?”

“Yeah, but if you’re not really interested-”

“Shut up, Natasha, you know I’m interested.” Your heart beats fast in your chest and your teeth catch on your lower lip, gnawing on it gently. Your fingers come back up to your wrist and stretch the elastic so that it bounces back against your skin. “Like… a lot of them will be there?”

She nods, regarding you with cool interest. “At least that’s what Wanda said. She’s better versed in this whole thing than I am.”

You can only bob your head up and down, suddenly nervous about attending this party. Natasha can sense it, putting a comforting hand on your arm.

“Look, bunny, it’ll be fine,” she gives you a reassuring smile. “They’ll love you. And if you change your mind, you won’t even have to interact with them in the first place; you’ll just be like any other person attending this thing. But Wanda knows a lot of them - that should be reassuring enough: she knows all about these guys, so it’s not like she’s going to introduce us to any major creeps.”

“Okay.”

—

“Okay,” you breathe out. Okay, you can do this. You’ve met presidents and prime ministers, singers and actors, kings and queens, but you’ve never been this nervous in your entire life.

Granted, none of those people were asking you to exchange sex for money, so it’s not really the same thing.

You’re wearing Dolce & Gabbana tonight - because they asked you to - and the golden silk dress that hits your mid-thigh and hugs your body so tight that it looks as if you were poured into it makes it all worth it. It shows off all of the dips and curves of your body and paired with your Alexander Vauthier clear slingback heels and a gold Vanina pearl-embellished handbag, you feel like a million dollars (even though that’s definitely not what this outfit costs). Natasha is standing next to you in a black Dolce & Gabbana corset dress - because they asked her to - and black red bottoms.

Your long red nails come up to toy with your ‘bunny’ necklace while you scan the massive crowds for a friendly face. It’s true that between the two of you, it is very much likely that you know - or know of - everybody here. But you don’t spare them a second glance despite the fact that they’re ogling you. No, you don’t linger on the bulging muscles and impressive height nor the full lips and pretty hair like you usually do. Instead, you’re looking for-

“Wanda! ” you call out, eyes falling on her reddish-brown hair flowing down her back in loose waves.

She’s standing by the bar, speaking to someone that you don’t know when she turns around, blue eyes quickly landing on you as she gives you that charming smile. Grabbing Nat’s hand, you run over to her and envelop her in a warm embrace. She squeals loudly, stumbling back as you realize that she’s probably already had a few drinks by now.

“Hi, guys,” she greets the two of you, looking up and down at your outfits approvingly. “You look hot.”

You return the compliment and pressing a kiss to her cheek, you stroke her hair while she and Nat engage in conversation. You take the opportunity to stare at all of the different groups of people who have gathered on Peter’s rooftop. There must be at least 300 people here already - the night has barely started - and you can see not a single person who looks like an old man. You furrow your brow, squinting and pushing up on your toes to see if you can see anyone that you don’t vaguely recognize from somewhere or another.

“Lookin’ for someone?”

The voice is unmistakable.

“Peter!”

He says your name in what’s only a mildly offensive mockery of your tone. You abandon Wanda and throw yourself into the arms of the boy, ruffling his already unkempt hair and also smacking a loud kiss on his cheek. He chuckles, his arm winding around your waist as he says hello to both Wanda and Nat.

Apparently you’re in a hugging mood tonight.

“I’m glad you guys could all make it,” he smiles so sweetly that you kiss him again, his cheeks turning flaming red. Peter has always been like a little brother to you although he’s actually a year older. You both went to high school and college together, and it helps that your mother and his aunt are also really good friends.

Except you don’t know how anybody could want to be friends with your demon of a mother.

“We couldn’t miss this,” Wanda gestures around her, pinching Peter on the cheek like a child which makes him frown. “Where’s MJ, Petey?”

You all “ooh” like high schoolers and Peter’s face turns somehow even redder - your heart swells - and he takes this as his cue to leave, slipping away and mumbling something about having to greet guests like a good host. It makes you all giggle, watching the boy with fond eyes.

Wanda abruptly turns to you, downing the champagne that she picks up off of the tray of one of the passing waiters.

“So Nat told me that you’re looking for a sugar daddy-”

“Shhh!” you hiss at her, clamping your hands tightly over her mouth because oh my god, Wanda, please speak louder. This makes Natasha laugh into her own glass of champagne.“Oh my god, why are you yelling?”

“Okay,” she drags it out and rolls her eyes, leaning into your group of three and whispering exaggeratedly. “So I heard you’re looking for a sugar daddy.”

“Sure, okay,” you whisper back, looking around before standing up straight because it’s just occurred to you how sketchy you all must look huddled in a circle like this. “So like… how does this work? Do we just… go up to them? Is there like some kind of code-?”

Wanda snorts loudly, throwing her head back and laughing. Your face slips into a pout and you cross your arms over your chest.

“No, idiot,” Wanda replies, pulling a tube of lipstick and a mirror out of her clutch. She starts to apply it while speaking to you. “They’re here already, and we’ve just gotta go up to them,” she smacks her lips together with finality, “and tell them we’re interested. Or, more like you’re going up to them and we’re here for moral support.”

“What happened to your guy, Wanda?” Nat asks, signaling to the bartender for a refill.

“And how did you get into it?” you ask her, one eyebrow quirking.

She smiles conspiratorially and runs her hands carefully through her hair. “There’s an app. And Viz and I are still together-”

“Viz? ” you almost choke on your own spit because you laugh so hard. Natasha joins you in a far more respectful way, her shoulders shaking as she picks up her now-full glass. Getting literal daggers thrown at your face would’ve been less piercing than the look that Wanda’s giving you right now, so you decide to shut your mouth and listen.

“Yes,” she says your name condescendingly, which makes you roll your eyes. “His name is Vision - it’s a long, personal story that I won’t share with either of you because you both fucking suck,” she stares the two of you down, “but that’s his nickname and what everyone calls him. It’s kinda cool, you know: super contemporary. Like Madonna or Beyoncé or Cher-”

“Okay,” Natasha licks her lips, putting one of her hands on her hip. “We get it, Wanda, thanks. But you told us that you guys broke up-?”

“Yeah, we just took a break,” Wanda shrugs. “Now, we’re back together and better than ever.”

You and Nat share a look before blinking back at Wanda, nodding your heads compliantly.

“So,” you rock back on your heels and start snapping your hair tie again. “Are we gonna go do this, or?”

Wanda’s eyes drift down to your wrist before she places a hand on top of it, stilling your actions. Your eyes are wide and glossy, your teeth worrying your lip.

“What’re you nervous about?” Wanda begins quietly, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb. “They’ll love you - they’re all super cool and really hot. I think that the only problem that you’ll have is that you’ll be spoilt for choice.”

Your laugh comes out watery but sincere nonetheless, so Wanda loops her arm through yours while Natasha grips your hand tightly.

“Maybe we should get you a drink-”

“No, Nat,” you inhale deeply. “I wanna be completely sober for this. After… after, yeah. I’m definitely gonna need a drink after.”

You all laugh while Wanda weaves you through swathes of socialites, stopping to say hello to some people. When you finally make your way all the way to the other end of the roof, you can see why you didn’t see them before. There is a set of stairs that lead down to what looks like a zen garden. Tall torches flame a collection of very comfortable-looking couches are placed around a stone firepit and on top of those couches are a group of some of the most handsome men that you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The first one to make eye contact with you is astoundingly attractive, so much so that you almost trip over your own feet. You know- you can just tell that he smells incredible. His mahogany skin shines in the light of the fire, and his full lips curve over a gap-toothed smile that he shoots your way; it immediately makes a smile of your own spread on your face. His beard is lined up to perfection and there’s a mischievous sparkle in his whiskey brown eyes. A little bit of his chest hair pokes out from underneath the top of his almost halfway-unbuttoned dress shirt and your mouth waters. You almost feel sorry for the slacks that are hugging his thighs sinfully tight because his powerful legs look like they’re about to burst through the seams.

You decide that you’ve never wanted to be a pair of pants so badly in your life.

Jesus Christ. These men aren’t even close to what I expected.

All you can say is that you’re glad to see that the same caliber of attractiveness holds up for the rest of them.

The man next to him has longer brunette hair that hits his shoulders and you just want to run your hands through the silky strands. He has a bit more of a rugged look, his facial hair groomed purposely to give off that energy. He’s wearing a tight, long-sleeve black shirt and black slacks too, the monochrome outfit highlighting every inch of his well-toned body. When you look at him, he’s staring down into his glass, the sweetest smile on his face that makes you bite the inside of your cheek. But then he looks up at you, and you’re taken aback by the vibrance of his steel-blue eyes. It stops your breath momentarily, and you have time to regain it when he taps the man next to him on the knee and points towards the three of you.

The man in question raises his head, face shielded partially by a pair of yellow-tinted glasses. His blonde hair is slicked back away from his face, and you take a second to admire his prominent bone structure. But he’s looking right past you, eyes boring holes into Wanda which makes you stop your ogling.

You assume that this must be Vision.

There’s one of the men who isn’t facing you and doesn’t even turn around to do so, but you can make out his extremely broad shoulders clad in a white t-shirt even from where you stand a distance away. Even the back of his head is attractive, his thick neck and pushed-back blonde hair. Wanda tugs on your arm impatiently, evidently eager to reach her man.

The three of you linked together almost fall down the stairs before you regain your collective composures and strut over there with all the confidence that you don’t feel. Wanda lets you and Nat go when you draw closer, fixing her hair before the brightest grin that you’ve ever seen on her face shines at Vision. He opens his arms to greet her and you have to look away because of the very much x-rated kiss that she plants on him: you feel like you’re intruding on something.

“Jesus,” Nat snorts in your ear, her hand still resting in yours. This makes you giggle, high-pitched and nervously, so Nat squeezes your hand before she pulls you forwards.

Wanda has situated herself in the lap of her man, his hand resting gently on her hip. She clears her throat, cheeks red from her public display of affection, and begins to speak.

“Hi, guys,” she says, waving and smiling at all the men politely. They all greet her back warmly, raising their hands too. “These are my best friends. This is Nat,” she gestures to the girl next to you and Nat just nods her head in acknowledgment.

“And this is the friend I told you about,” Wanda introduces you by name to the four men who she points at in turn: “Bunny, this is Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes, Vision, and Steve Rogers.”

Giving a little awkward wave of your hand, you unglue your eyes from the floor and scan all of the men up close now.

They’re all so much prettier up close.

From this distance, you can now clearly see how pretty Sam’s eyes are, how bright Bucky’s smile is, how strong Vision’s jaw is, and-

Holy shit.

It’s obvious that you must’ve died and gone to heaven some time in these past few minutes because Adonis’ blue eyes are scorching holes into your face. His high-neck white long sleeve sweater is probably in his size but the way that his muscles flex under the material is telling you otherwise. The size of his biceps - probably as big as your head - briefly make you wonder what they would feel like wrapped around your neck-

If you stare hard enough at his pecs - which you are - you can see the hard peaks of his nipples; you decide that there’s something so sensual about that and if that alone didn’t just make you wet, you decide that you can’t be human. The sweater is tucked into grey checkered pants with a black Yves Saint Laurent belt wrapped around his surprisingly narrow waist. He’s leaning back in his seat with his huge hands on his thighs, his strong legs spread wide almost an invitation for you to crawl between them. Your eyes move past his clearly tailored pants to his huge feet clad in black Versace loafers and you can feel the liquid that pools in your cunt. Realizing that you’re shamelessly checking this poor man out, your eyes snap up to his face only to have the breath completely knocked out of you, not for the first time tonight.

Not only is his body complete perfection, but his face is also arguably even better. His defined jawline gives you the urge to run your tongue over it but that beard. Your squeeze your thighs together because you want to know how it feels between your thighs. His ears are perfectly proportional to his head - a characteristic that should never be underestimated, mind you - and his cheekbones are high. But you can’t ignore the fullness nor the rosy pigmentation of his lips - his lower lip is fuller than the top and you wanna bite it so bad and he’s smirking a little. When you finally lock eyes with him, you feel as if you’re drowning but admittedly even if you were, you wouldn’t mind doing so in the blue of his irises. They darken slightly when they train onto yours, and one of his perfect eyebrows lifts questioningly.

This whole interaction has only lasted about five seconds but it feels like you’re in a movie, everything moving in slow motion. He stands up abruptly and you do actually choke at his size, his sheer height and width alone soaking your panties. One hand in his pocket, he takes slow, measured steps until he stands directly in front of you, not even sparing a glance at Natasha.

“Bunny, huh?” you pray that your knees won’t give out at his deep baritone and you can’t take your eyes away from his, even when he sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Steve Rogers.”

tagged: @literaturefeen @donutloverxo @evnscvll @stargazingfangirl18

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers blurb #steve rogers blurbs #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfiction #sugar daddy au #soft dark steve rogers

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swampofiniquity · 4 years

Text

The Luckiest (Chris Redfield x Reader) Part 2

Part Two of Two

Rated: Explicit

Word Count: 2,893

Summary: Round two... and three?

Warnings: sexual content, blowjob, unprotected sex, overstimulation

Read part one here

Cross-posted to AO3

The master bathroom was what originally made you fall in love with the new house. It was huge and open, the kind you used to fantasize about when you would bang your elbow on the tiled wall every time you took a shower at your old apartment. It was technically two rooms, one for the toilet and linen cupboard, and the other housing the large walk-in shower and over-sized bathtub, both of which were more than big enough to accommodate both you and Chris comfortably.

It had been the first thing that crossed your mind when the realtor showed you the room, and you had to excuse yourself for a moment until you could get the image of your then fiance fucking you up against the shower wall out of your head.

Chris, of course, teased you relentlessly about it on the drive on home. Until you shut him by giving him a preview of your fantasy later that night.

He insisted on making an offer on the house the next morning.

Now, there you were, finally a married woman, standing topless in your mostly empty bedroom while you could hear the sounds of your husband showering in the exact location of that fantasy, and you were almost too excited to move. You took a deep breath and discarded your shorts and underwear, tossing them into the careless pile that Chris had left his own clothes. He called out for you when you opened the door and finally stepped inside the already steamy room.

“I’m starting to feel a little lonely in here all by myself.”

You laughed. “Poor baby, I’ll be right there.” You paused in front of the mirror for a second to take your hair down, noting that you did indeed get paint in it as well as various other places on your body. You were a complete mess, but your heart clenched as you realized Chris was so enamored with you that he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

The boost of confidence put an extra sway to your hips as you walked to shower door and opened it. Chris’ eyes darkened when you climbed inside.

“God, look at you, come here,” he beckoned, drawing you into his arms and under the warm spray of the shower head. You draped your arms around his neck, finding his skin slick with soap.

“Look at you,” you responded, moving your body against the impressive erection that now pressed against the softness of your belly. “Someone’s excited.”

"You kidding me? I've been hard since I came home to find you covered in paint and shaking your ass to that godawful music." Chris ran his hands down your back and took two handfuls of your ass, groaning as he kneaded your flesh.

You scoffed, but it lacked any real ire. His hands on your body felt too good. "Excuse me, but Ace of Base is a treasure and I will fight you."

“Oh yeah, you think you can take me?” He waggled his eyebrows at you and flexed his chest muscles. You snorted.

“Mmmhmm, I fight dirty.” To punctuate your point, you leaned forward onto your toes and bit into the thick tendon on his neck. The hands on your ass tightened, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Shit - I know you do, baby.”

“Only for you,” you whispered against his wet skin. Assisted by the water, you wedged your hand between your bodies and wrapped your fingers around his cock. His hips jerked forward as you moved your slippery hand up and down, applying just enough pressure to tease.

“Fuck.” He slumped forward, resting his head heavily on your shoulder. He was so tense you could practically feel his muscles vibrating.

You pressed a soothing kiss against his neck. “Shhh it’s my turn to take care of you now.”

Abruptly, you sank to your knees and Chris groaned, his hands traveling up your body as you went down and settling in your messy hair. His cock jumped as you looked up at him through your lashes, his body shielding you from the brunt of the shower spray.

“I tell you lately that I’m a lucky man?” He asked as he swept your hair back from your face to get a better look at you.

“You may have mentioned it.” You leaned forward and drew his tip ever so slightly inside your mouth. He swore under his breath and gripped your shoulders.

“Fuck, I uh, I should um probably mention it again, just so it’s clear then. Goddammit,” he groaned through gritted teeth as you started to explore his shaft with your tongue.

You felt a sudden, familiar rush at turning such a strong, powerful man into a babbling mess. Fighting a smile, you wrapped your lips over your teeth and took him in deep. His shout echoed against the tiled walls.

Going down on Chris had always been akin to a religious experience to you. It was primal, sure, but beautiful too, the trust and vulnerability behind the action. He wasn’t a man to lose control easily, but when you were on your knees for him, he damn near always did. Shaking and swearing and clawing at you while you worked him in your mouth. At this point, you knew his body just as well as you knew your own, and nothing felt more natural than using that knowledge to make him come undone.

“God, you’re so p-pretty down there, baby. M-makin’ me feel so good,” he moaned, using an unsteady hand to tangle in your hair and gently urge you to move faster. You obliged, humming around him and relaxing your throat to take him even deeper, your eyes watering from the effort.

Chris was thick enough to make your jaw ache during longer sessions, but luckily for you, he was already on the edge. You brought your hand up to massage his balls while you gradually increased your speed, letting the fingers of your other hand dig into the firm flesh of his ass.

“Fuck, baby, please ... I’m gonna come. Can I come in your pretty little mouth?” His deep voice sounded ruined, and it brought a whoosh of heat straight to your core.

You nodded as best you could, and moaned in encouragement. Looking up at his face, you saw his eyes were squeezed shut, his jaw clenched, his neck and chest a beautiful shade of red. You wished you could capture this moment, while he dangled so deliciously on the precipice, so you could take it out on those lonely nights when his work called him away. He was perfect like this.

Then, the fingers in your hair tightened, the sensation just skirting the edge of pain. You shifted your concentration back on his cock, focusing on the head now, increasing suction until Chris shouted your name and finally released in thick spurts on your tongue. You swallowed it easily with him still in your mouth, the motion making his entire body tremble.

“I am the luckiest person alive,” Chris panted, as you carefully pulled away. He caught your chin and tilted your face so he could meet your eyes. “I love you.”

You beamed up at him. “I love you too.”

He hummed in contentment. As he trailed his fingers aimlessly through your wet hair, you leaned forward and pressed a line of kisses from one of his hip bones across his belly to the other. He shuddered, his warm skin oversensitive.

Laughing, you reached your arms up and Chris immediately got the hint, helping you up in one smooth motion. Once you were back on your feet, he brought you in for a kiss, sliding his tongue past your lips as you opened for him.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.

You patted his scruffy cheek. “Mmhm you mentioned that already, babe.”

“I think you may have sucked my brain out,” he groaned.

You laughed, breaking away and side stepping him so you could better reach the shower spray. The hot water would likely be running out soon, and you still desperately needed to wash your hair. Instead of getting out and toweling off, Chris settled himself heavily down on the teak shower stool, his eyes never leaving your body.

As you started to soak your hair, you asked him - “Expecting a show?”

Chris shook his head. “I just like watching you.”

It was intensely intimate, washing yourself while he watched. Something as routine and boring as lathering shampoo felt so much heavier when you could feel his eyes on your skin, tracking every movement. It was exhilarating.

Unfortunately, the hot water cut out in the middle of rinsing the conditioner. Your skin broke out in goosebumps as the warm water gradually turned arctic. “Fuck,” you muttered, angling and contorting your body in an attempt to only have you hair under the spray. Your loving husband laughed at you.

“Want me to see if I can turn the water heater back on?” he asked once he finished.

“Nah, I got the paint out of my hair. I’ll take a more thorough shower tomorrow.” Finally managing to rinse completely, you turned off the shower. You were shivering as you turned back to face Chris.

“Come here, let me warm you back up.” He patted his thighs, drawing your eyes towards his groin. He was hard again and the sight made your knees feel like overcooked noodles.

“Already?” You asked, closing the short distance and sitting on his lap, letting your legs frame his hips. You took a hold of his cock with your cold hands and he hissed through his teeth.

“Your fault,” he growled into your neck before sucking deeply on the sensitive skin there. He was sure to leave a bruise and the thought of meeting the contractors tomorrow with his mark on your neck thrilled you.

Chris’ warm, strong arms encircled you, bringing you in against his chest, and the contrast against your own cool skin was heavenly. You moaned and your grip on his cock tightened as you worked him up and down, tilting your hips so you could rub his tip against your swollen clit. His entire body tensed beneath you.

“God, that feels good, baby. I want to fuck you so bad.” He snaked a hand between you and brushed yours away, taking his cock and rubbing it against you himself. You gasped as he moved down from your clit and pressed in, just barely penetrating you.

“Chris, please. ” You didn’t have much leverage from your position, your feet unable to reach the floor, but that didn’t matter. He seized your ass in both hands and moved you himself, picking you up and guiding you down onto his cock. You inhaled sharply as he filled you.

“Fuck, I missed this, missed you. I’m never leaving again, from now on my only job is to fuck you.” You knew it was just the moment talking, that Chris wasn’t really going to suddenly quit the BSAA, but the thought still warmed you. You loved that he dedicated his life to saving and protecting others, but the selfish part of you wanted nothing more than to keep him safe and by your side at all times.

You gripped his arms, feeling the muscles contract and release as he continued to bounce you up and down. You were still sensitive from your intense orgasm on the couch and that, coupled with how ridiculously turned you were from giving him a blowjob and the rest of your shower, had you already on edge, almost embarrassingly fast.

“Please, don’t stop,” you urged, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against his shoulder. Chris responded by increasing his pace, lifting his hips to meet yours now, and forcing little gasps to leave your lips.

“You gonna come for me? I can feel how tight you’re getting, baby. Fuck, you squeeze me so good,” he panted, turning his head to kiss your exposed neck.

It only took a few more thrust before your second orgasm of the night hit you. You wailed and threw your head back, your body seizing and writhing in Chris’ grip as he continued to move and thrust up into you, prolonging the intense climax. It was too much. Too good. You were simultaneously fighting him to get away and trying to pull him impossibly closer, one hand flying to the back of his head to press his face to your chest and the other grappling with his fingers on your ass, desperate to get him to stop or slow.

Chris refused, knowing your body well enough to know that if he kept it up and you submitted, he could get you to come again. So, he shushed you, trailed loving kisses across your chest and breasts, and held on tight as you thrashed, until finally you slumped forward against him with a whimper.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl. I’ve got you, baby. Relax for me.” His voice was calm and soothing, and you latched onto it like a beacon in a storm while he used his body to overwhelm yours. You took a few huge, lungfuls of air and tried to focus on submitting to the insane pleasure instead of fighting it. Your entire being was trembling as something wild built inside you.

“Think you can come for me again, beautiful? You feel too good, I don’t think I can last.” Chris’ arms were shaking now, but he somehow kept going, relentlessly pounding you on his cock. You could do little other than whine into his neck and try to keep a tenuous grip on your sanity.

When the final orgasm hit you, you didn’t black out, though it felt close. Your vision tunneled and you were hyper aware of the sound of your own frenetic breath and the involuntary spasms in your muscles, but it was if they were happening to someone else. For a blissful moment, you were outside your body witnessing your own ecstasy, before the powerful wave finally crested and slammed you back.

You screamed something, whether his name or a curse or some utter nonsense you had no idea. Distantly, you were aware of Chris answering, shouting your name as he stilled. His hands dropped you full on his lap, bringing his cock impossibly deep as he came hot and wet inside you. Tears sprung at the corners of your eyes.

“Chris,” you sobbed, chest heaving. The physical release had triggered a mental one as well, and all that stress and worry that had been weighing you down while he was away left you in a rush. The relief was palpable.

He brought two shaky hands up to your face and you felt him place a series of sweet, brief kisses to your face. After a long, gentle kiss against your lips, he spoke. “Look at me, baby.”

You hadn’t even been aware that you had closed them again, and you opened eyes to see your husband looking at you with so much love and adoration that it

brought on another wave of tears. He laughed softly and wiped them away as they fell. “I take it you needed that as badly as I did?”

You could only nod and bury your face against his chest. Chris wrapped his arms securely around you, groaning as you shifted slightly, his softening cock still warm inside you. Selfishly, you wanted to keep him there all night, but you knew that the contact would soon swing from oversensitive to painful for him, so you relaxed your inner muscles and let him slip himself out.

Chris held you for a long moment, stroking your hair and whispering honey sweet words to you as you both calmed your heart rates. It wasn’t until you started shivering again, your skin and hair still wet, that he finally stirred, turning the shower back on to clean you both up before wrapping you up in a fuzzy, warm towel.

Your legs were still wobbly, so you kept your arms locked around his neck while he dried you both off. “How long do I have you to myself this time?” you asked, enjoying the feeling of the soft towel against your tender skin.

“Barring another incident, I am officially on leave for the rest of the month. Plenty of time for you to get sick of me, I’m sure.” With that, Chris ditched the towels on the floor and stooped, scoping you up and onto one shoulder.

You squealed at the sudden shift in altitude. “What are you doing?!”

Chris playfully slapped your ass, walking into the sparsely furnished bedroom. “Taking my wife to bed.”

You giggled as he tossed you gently onto the mattress. Even without the bed-frame, the memory foam cradled your body perfectly, magnifying your boneless exhaustion. With heavy eyes, you watched Chris turn off the lights and close the door, before joining you and drawing you into his arms.

You hummed as he kissed you. “You’re wrong though.”

“About what?” he asked around a yawn. He was starting to doze almost immediately, no longer able to fight his dopamine-flooded brain and the warm security of having you snuggled, naked in his arms.

“I’ll never get enough of you,” you’re able to respond as you both nod off together.

#chris redfield #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield smut #resident evil fanfic #what have I done???

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qtlibehsun · 3 years

Text

too much but too late

pairing: georgenotfound x f!reader [angst]

summary: your wedding day was meant to be the best day of your life, but unfortunately for you a certain man by the name of George ruins it

warnings: lots of cursing, alcohol, mentions of a sexy time, vomit

word count: 2.1k

a.n: hello everyone! i am back! with more angst cause i literally love writing it so damn much. thank you so much for the great feedback from my last post, made me very happy to see majority of you all like it. i promise more works will be published soon since i currently have nothing to do with my life - please feel free to send through requests i love looking at them and i get excited to write them! and now onto the request... i made it super dramatic LOL

You had dreamed of this day for years. Dreamed of it when you were learning to tie your shoelaces, learning to ride a bike, learning how to write. The particular day? The day of your wedding. A day where you were adorned in a pristine white gown, hair immaculate, the tears of joy in your parents faces as they told you how proud they were of you for finding such a partner.

It resulted in your heart sprinting, your hands shaking, and a series of bouncing on the balls of your feet as you squealed alongside your best friends. You were utterly and undeniably ecstatic.

So why couldn’t he be happy for you.

Maybe it was the fact you two were best friends. Maybe it was the countless times you played video games together, joined with discord calls that lasted for over five hours. Maybe it was the fact you two were best friends. Best friends since birth perhaps. The way that almost every day for the past twenty-four years of his life was spent with you.

Or maybe it was because of that one night on your 18th birthday. Where alcohol poisoned both your systems and blinded your reality. That one night where you went back to his place, and he proceeded to gently touch and love every part of you. That one night where your shadows danced together in harmonious ways to the music of the crickets.

He knew for sure he couldn’t be happy for you because he loved you, copious amounts.

He would never forget the tear you ripped in his heart as you woke up beside him, eyes glossy, a strain in your voice as you told him word’s he never wanted to hear.

I’m sorry George, but it was a mistake. It never should’ve happened. I don’t like you like that.

God, it haunted him.

It was a mistake.

It never should’ve happened.

She doesn’t like you like that.

A mistake.

He wanted to disappear. Disappear to a time before then, where some nights he’d hold you close to his chest and wish upon empty stars that you were his more than platonically. However, no matter what he did, where he went, the images of your face, contorted in pleasure underneath him were stuck like glue in the back of his eyelids, and the whisper of his name that sounded like bells played persistently in his mind. He could not escape you.

And he wanted to disappear now more than ever. To withdraw from a day that made you so happy.

He looked so handsome. A crisp suit, a straight tie, hair fluffy as usual but more styled. However, his eyes were red and sunken, slight stubble on his chin, and a watery gaze that was not there from joy. He looked like a broken glass masterpiece kept together by masking tape.

And when you appeared at the end of aisle, fuck. He wanted to scream from how stunning you were. A complete replica of the most charming painting he’d ever laid eyes on.

There were gasps and murmurs from friends and family that surrounded him, but they fell upon deaf ears. He could not concentrate. And when you made eye contact with him, he wanted to throw up, for he had never been so utterly devastated in his entire life.

Because the man you were marrying was not him.

Your smile, your beauty, your kindness, your everything was not for him. It was the other man that stood at the other end of the room. Hands clasped, emotion swelling with pride. Then again why wouldn’t it, you were his wife to be.

Not George’s.

And when the priest announced speak now or forever hold your peace, he wanted to so bad. His knees jumped with anticipation, the raging urge to yell that he loved you, and you didn’t belong with this man, you belonged with him. But he couldn’t. Because he loved you. And what kind of man would he be to ruin a day you had been looking forward to for so long.

And the kiss. Your first kiss as a married woman. It made his fists clench and heart skip. He wanted nothing more than to have your lips locked with his in that moment.

Your mother in her burst of joy turned around in her seat and grabbed George by his collar, pushing him into the tightest embrace of his life, her face wet, leaving a damp section on his jacket.

“Aren’t you so proud! Our beautiful girl is all grown up!” She squeaked.

All he could do was force out a tight-lipped smile and nod his head that caused his brain to throb. She wasn’t his girl, she was someone else’s.

He shouldn’t have come.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The expensive bourbon burned his eyes almost as much as his throat. He had had way too much to drink. Far too much for his best friend’s wedding day. His jacket had been forgotten, hung to the back of his chair, sleeves rolled, and tie loosened. He probably would’ve been picked up by a single lady if he didn’t look so miserable. George stayed seated, gaze hardened on the inside of his empty glass as everyone watched you and your husband dance. He refused to watch the smile of joy graced upon your face when you danced with him.

God why were you so fucking beautiful.

A man with fluffy hair and eyes as blue as the ocean however had spotted the dejected man. He sat down with a huff next to him.

“Hey George.” “Hey Karl.”

“What’s up with ya’ buddy? Why you so down.” Karl asked as he wrapped an arm around the back of George’s chair, scooting closer. The brunette just shrugged.

“She looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” He pried, trying to get any response out of the British man.

For the first time since you started dancing George looked at you. Head thrown back in laughter; eyes crinkled at the corner. He had always made fun of you for that.

What had he done wrong? He must’ve done something for God to punish him so cruelly. He shouldn’t have made fun of the wrinkles in your eyes, they were beautiful. He shouldn’t have put the chewed-up gum in your hair, he just wanted your attention. He should’ve remembered your fourteenth birthday party. Why did he have to go off with that other stupid girl he met. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

He felt so fucking stupid.

All the reasons as to why you weren’t his flew threw his head, making him so overwhelmed he thought as though if he were to stand up, he would fall back on his arse again.

“Try not to think about it George, its done now, nothing you can do,” and with that Karl stood up to join the rest of the guests, now dispersing to sit back down or join the two newlyweds for a dance.

That was it. He had to get out of there. Karl’s words had struck a nerve him in. Although drunk and clearly not thinking straight he was right. There was nothing he could do. So why was he still here?

Shooting up and grabbing his jacket George made a swift bolt to the exit of the reception.

Unfortunately for him, you saw your best friend leaving, and with a quick kiss on the cheek and a I’ll be right back, you left your husband by himself and ran after your best friend.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He heard you call his name in the deserted hallway and was almost tempted to break out in a sprint. He couldn’t talk to you. He loved you like you were a drug. So bad for him but yet he was so addicted. So, against his better judgement he turned around to face you.

“Where are you going?” You asked, cheerfulness dripping in your tone. You clearly didn’t catch on to his deprived state, you were too far away.

“I’m going home.”

Your smile dropped. “Oh, why?”

It was too late now. The alcohol in his system was blinding, and although his brain was screaming at him to turn around, don’t ruin her night, his heart was screaming tell her you love her, make her yours, it’s not too late, Karl was wrong. And detrimentally, for him he went with the latter.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, he strode forward, grabbed your face ferociously and went in for a kiss. But before George could feel the sweetness of your lips on his once again you pushed him away, two hard hands on his chest causing him too stumble.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You screamed, fury circling your body and resounding your reality. It was now when you were face to face with him you smelt the repulsive hard liquor on his breath. You noticed his red rimmed eyes and the smattering of stubble he wore. He looked almost sick.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N fuck please I’m sorry,” he whined, words slurring together. He was so drunk.

“Why did you do that? What evil thing literally possessed you to try and kiss me? And on my wedding night you sick bastard.” You were so frustrated and disappointed in your best friend you started to cry.

George was so desperate. You were standing so close to him, looking so beautiful, smelling heavenly. But now you were crying, and your perfect makeup was dripping in flawed lines down your face.

Oh no, he thought to himself. I caused that. Let me fix it.

He reached out to wipe away your tears, but you only pushed him away again. He choked on a sob that was threatening to leave so fast. You were breaking his heart so quickly. Why did he do that, he shouldn’t have done that.

“George why?” You whispered to him, wiping away your own tears. “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t a mistake for me Y/N. It wasn’t.” You stood there quietly, paralysed with shock at the information that thudded your heart. He took it as an invitation to continue speaking.

“For as long as I can remember Y/N I have been wholly and devotedly in love with you. Holy fuck you fucking kill me. And not just because of the night we shared on your 18th birthday, but every other night. Where I got to hold you in my arms, and just pretend that for a second that you were mine. Mine to hold, to kiss, to protect, to love.”

He almost seemed sober from the passion that leaked through his words.

“And I understand you love this man, I mean why else would you be marrying him, but fuck I can’t lie anymore. I can’t sit here and pretend that I didn’t wish that man was me. What did I do wrong?” Now he was seriously crying. “Why was I not good enough for you darling? I did everything for you.”

You were flustered and pissed and crying so much you could only sob out a small “cause I’m just not in love with you George. I never was and I don’t think I ever will be.”

George became overrun with jealousy and rage, the bourbon only adding fuel to the fire.

“God damnit girl. You’re fucking breaking my heart. I hope your happy with him, but I also hope you know how far I would’ve gone for you. Anything you fucking wanted I would’ve got you. Fuck!” He was yelling by the end, the liquid courage turning him into a toxic beast. He would be so disappointed in himself if he were sober.

“Fuck you George! You’ve ruined what was meant to be the best day of my life!” You huffed picking up your dress and turning to run away, your cries following you, haunting the hallways making him shiver.

With the knowledge of him ruining a day you had been looking forward to for so long, and quite possibly losing something he loved so much, he ran to the nearest restroom, knees buckling when he entered the stall as he hurled the dangerous amounts of liquor into the toilet.

He sobbed and cried in between emptying his entire stomach, hands plastered so roughly and deeply into his hair.

He ruined everything.

He was such a mistake.

And it was something that ruined a perfect friendship, a guilt that plagued him for years until the grave.

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