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baptismbaby · 7 months

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† GOD, FORGIVE ME

mean!ellie williams x innocent!reader a/n: i also posted this on my ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: reader is an extremely innocent christian girl, blaspheming, corruption, drug dealer!ellie, petnames (pup is used in case anyone doesn't like that), fingering (r! receiving), belittling, toxic!ellie, oral (r!receiving), virgin!reader

creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the picture of ellie.

wc: 5.2k<3 part two here

You breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the gates of Jackson on your horse. You had just finished up patrol and was ready to collapse in your bed. You looked over at Dina and smiled. “Man, I’m happy to be home.”

“Me too,” Dina agreed with a laugh. “Things got too intense out there.”

“Yeah, luckily I was there to save your life.”

Dina scoffed. “Oh, shut up. I had it but of course, you had to show off.”

You hopped off your horse and led it to the stables, passing it off to the man on duty. “Here she is,” you said. “Get your rest, Ginger!”

Dina said goodbye to Japan, running to catch up with you. “Hey, I forgot to mention but Jesse said he wanted to throw a party tonight. It’ll be small, not too many people at all.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A party? Really?”

“Yeah, it’ll be fun! Jesse and his friends got some liquor and cups from Seth. Perfect timing too since everyone has the weekend off.”

“Dina,” you began. But before you could continue, Dina cut you off.

“I’m not saying you have to drink with us! I know you’re a good little Christian girl,” she joked.

You frowned. “Hey, that’s not nice.”

“Please come,” she begged. “It wouldn’t be fun without you.”

“What exactly do I bring to the table? It’s not like I can do anything,” you said.

Dina stepped in front of you and placed her hands on your arms to stop you. “Listen, just please come and stay for at least half an hour. If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you or try to convince you to stay. I wanna have a good time with my friends and you’re one of my favorites. Please don’t let me suffer with all of Jesse’s friends. They’re… too male, almost.”

You sighed in defeat. “Ugh, fine! I’ll go if you really want me to.”

Dina clapped her hands in excitement. “Good! Come, I have some clothes you can borrow that’ll look real nice on you.”

You groaned as Dina pulled you by your hand, taking you to her place. She couldn’t contain how happy she felt. You never came to parties with her. They were rare and usually happened once every couple of months. Usually, you wouldn’t give in to Dina’s begging. You would just go home, curl up with a book and fall asleep before the party even began. Dina would come over the next day to tell you all the “sinful” things that went on. You didn’t understand what half of the things she said even meant, you were far too sheltered growing up and focused on reading the Bible most of the time.

“Who’s all gonna be there?” you asked as you walked inside her house.

“Well, I know Jesse’s whole group of friends are coming. Then there’s you, me, and…” she trailed off, looking away. You tilted your head to try and catch her attention. She fought hard not to look your way but you still kept trying to make eye contact until she finally looked at you. “Ellie,” she almost whispered. You sneered at the mention of the Williams girl.

“Ugh, I should’ve known,” you murmured. “Of course Ellie would be there.”

“Seriously, why do you two bicker so much?” Dina asked. “It’s like watching two kids fight over a toy. Or… really, more so like watching someone yell at a puppy for no reason.”

Your face fell. “Oh no… am I the puppy Dina? Please, don’t say I’m the puppy.”

Dina bit her lip and shrugged. “I mean… your comebacks are… something else.”

“What? Are you saying I can’t be mean?”

Dina couldn’t hide the smile growing on her face as she tried not to laugh. “You once said ‘bless your heart’ and that you’d pray for her.”

You scoffed as she broke into fits of laughter. “Hey, ‘bless your heart’ is the worst insult to receive where I come from! Sorry I felt bad afterwards and told her I’d pray for her!”

“Oh, I’m just messing. It’ll be alright. I’ll tell Ellie to cool it. I honestly don’t think she means anything by it. You’re just easy to tease,” Dina said as she made way to her closet. She pulled out a black longsleeve and extremely short shorts. “Here, wear this.”

You made a face at the outfit. “Is that not a bit… much?”

“Loosen up a bit! I think it’ll look real nice on your figure. Make the girlies pop out a little,” she said with a wink.

You undressed and put the outfit Dina gave you on. She was right but left out the fact that the shorts revealed too much, your ass practically hanging out. The shirt fell just above your belly button. Dina gawked at the sight of you. “Hey, you should dress slutty more often.”

You couldn’t help but to admire yourself in the mirror. You were big on dressing as modest and comfortable as possible. You didn’t realize you had curves until now. “Wow… I think I kinda like this?”

“What can I say, I’m a genius,” bragged Dina.

You and Dina arrived at the party an hour later. Jesse opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Dina grinned. “I know right?”

Jesse looked you up and down then back at Dina. “Wow, I’m impressed,” he said, complimenting the both of you. “Come in.”

As you walked in, everyone stopped and stared. “Holy shit, you clean up nice!” one of the boys exclaimed. You shifted and looked down at the ground, too anxious to look at anyone. You were way out of your comfort zone but a part of you sort of enjoyed it. Your eyes wandered over to the couch where Ellie sat. She was rolling a joint, paying no mind to you.

Dina walked over to her and leaned to whisper something in her ear. You stood there, watching Ellie’s face twist in disgust. You tried reading her lips, it looked like she said your name followed by the word “sensitive.” Dina smacked Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie began searching around the room until her eyes landed on you. Her eyebrows went up before turning to Dina. You couldn’t see her lips anymore but saw a smirk grow on Dina’s face.

Everyone took a shot and headed towards the couch. You followed, sitting on the ground next to Dina. You were kinda mad that to your right was Ellie, who now sat on the edge of the couch so the guys could sit next to her. She was so close that you could smell the soap she used. Ellie looked down at you, holding the joint out. Before you could decline, she passed it to the guy sitting next to her instead. “Shit, I forgot,” she said. “You’re too good to smoke.”

You glared at her smug face. “I don’t think I’m too good to smoke.”

“Well, you’re too good to drink.”

She reached over to grab an unopened bottle from the table. She grabbed two glasses and poured the liquor into each one. “I’m not too good to drink either!” you exclaimed, defending yourself.

Ellie chuckled. “Right,” she muttered. She went to grab the shot but you grabbed it first, downing it quickly. You coughed as it burned your throat.

“Woah,” Ellie blurted out sarcastically. “You took one shot, cool.”

You grabbed the other glass angrily and downed it too, slamming it back down on the table.

“Jesus!” said Dina, grabbing your shoulder. “Take it slow, you don’t wanna get sick.”

At this point, the joint had reached Dina. She passed it to you to pass over to Ellie but you took a hit instead. You inhaled the smoke deeply and blew it out without coughing. You handed it to Ellie who had a playful smirk on her face. “Wow, I think I’m actually impressed.”

“Whatever,” you uttered, standing up to leave the circle. You went into the kitchen to take another shot. For some reason, you felt you had to prove to Ellie that you weren’t just a goody two shoes and that you could have fun. You knew that in order for the Jackson dealer to take you seriously, you would have to commit.

After a couple shots, you slightly stumbled back to the circle. Dina looked concerned until you giggled. “Oh, boy. This is great,” you slurred, your eyes heavy from the weed. Dina laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to let loose!”

You looked up at Ellie, who was looking further down than your face with furrowed brows. She looked back up and quickly turned away. “Lightweight,” she said.

“Oh, shut it, Ellie,” you snapped. “Just for a second could you please just shut up!”

Ellie laughed. “Good Christian girl suddenly thinks she’s the shit all cause she took a hit off a blunt and a couple shots.”

Everyone groaned, tired of the constant arguing between the two. Every time they were in a room with them, Ellie would make fun of you until you couldn’t take anymore and left. They knew Ellie wasn’t fully serious, she liked picking on you because she thought it was hilarious that you couldn’t take a joke. But part of her started to despise you without her knowledge. Everyone loved you. You were sweet and would pray with anyone who wanted to pray. You would give back to the community and greet everyone who walked past you. Ellie thought it was all an act and grew tired of it.

You, on the other hand, never liked Ellie. She was a dealer who spent all of her free time smoking pot and sleeping around. You didn’t think that was any way to live. You hated the influence Ellie had on your friends. Everyone thought she was funny. You couldn’t understand why.

“Let’s play never have I ever!” Dina suggested, an attempt to break the silence and to lessen the tension that built up in the room. Everyone agreed and put all ten of their fingers up. You followed along, waiting for someone to start.

“Okay,” Dina started. “Loser has to go streaking.”

Everyone cheered. You frowned, unsure if you still wanted to play. “But!” said Dina, causing everyone to be quiet. “Usually, you’re out if you put all your fingers down. But… whoever is left with the most fingers up is the loser.”

You nudged Dina, giving her a look. “You know I’m gonna lose,” you whispered. Dina shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just lie.”

“I’ll start,” said Jesse. “Never have I ever… made out with someone on patrol.”

Everyone put their fingers down except you.

“Never have I ever… had sex during patrol,” Dina said. Almost everyone put their finger down. They looked at you, waiting for you to say something. You decided to take Dina’s advice and start lying to avoid being the loser.

“Never have I ever snuck out.”

You put a finger down along with everyone else. Ellie scoffed. “Yeah sure,” she muttered. “Never have I ever had sex.”

You put a finger down, knowing that wasn’t true. Ellie kicked your knee lightly. “Wow, you’re getting some? Tell me, who?”

You looked over at Dina, your eyes wide as you tried to come up with a lie. Some girl who passed through Jackson? Some girl you met before Jackson? Your head started to hurt trying to come up with an excuse.

“Who?” Ellie asked again. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Girl,” Dina corrected. “She’s not attracted to men.”

You nodded, not really caring that Dina had outed you. You knew that you were surrounded by people who wouldn’t judge. Except for Ellie, even though she wasn’t straight herself.

Ellie looked genuinely shocked. “Really? Who’s the girl?”

You shrugged. “I’m not gonna name drop.”

“Because this girl isn’t real,” said Ellie. “Lying is a sin. You would know. You just don’t want to be the loser.”

“Hey, it’s not fair to lie,” one of Jesse’s friends complained. Suddenly, everyone started whining about how it was against the rules. Either you say who it was or admit that you’re lying. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment. Ellie was grinning but it went away when she saw tears in your eyes.

“I’m teasing, man. Chill… don’t be a crybaby about it.”

“Fuck you, Ellie,” you spat out. A few people gasped, including Dina. She turned to Jesse, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt guilty for suggesting to play the game and for telling Ellie to be nice. Dina realized it just made her pick on you even more.

Ellie wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t mad but she wasn’t feeling good about the situation either.

“You’re a real piece of shit,” you continued. “Always throwing religion in my face, being mean, just… why? Why target me? I’ve always been nice to you even though I have never, ever liked you! So, fuck you, Ellie!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I knew better. I shouldn’t have come here when I found out you were gonna be here too. Just give it a rest, Ellie. Grow up!”

You stood up and brushed your shorts off. You faced your friends who all sat back quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Sorry for ruining your fun, guys.”

You stormed up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms. You collapsed on the bed, your head spinning. You felt awful for how you reacted but felt she deserved it. You were worried you ruined the party until you heard music along with everyone singing loudly.

You heard a knock on the door. You got up, cracking it open. You were expecting Dina but felt your stomach drop when you saw Ellie. You tried to shut the door but Ellie stopped it with her hand, shoving her way inside and slamming the door shut and locking it. “I’m not here to bitch at you, I want to talk to you.”

“You really want to make things worse?”

“You’re right. I am a piece of shit,” Ellie hissed. “I know I go too far teasing you but you take everything seriously!”

“You don’t know me, Ellie,” you mumbled, too afraid to speak up in case your voice cracked. “I won’t lie and say that I ever cared for you. I don’t like the way you choose to live your life but I still was kind to you. You never gave me a chance.”

“Because you act like you’re better than everyone!”

“How?” you shouted. “All I want is to make friends with everyone, spread a little peace and love in this shitty world! It’s comforting to me, Ellie! I don’t think I’m better than you or anybody. I enjoy making others happy and you enjoy making people miserable. Actually, just me. Because I have never seen you do this to others. You hate me and I wish you didn’t! I hear how Dina talks about you and I see how you laugh with your friends and I’m jealous. I know I could’ve liked you had you been friendly with me. Because I was angry at myself for judging you so quickly. It was wrong of me. But of course, I was right!”

You turned away from Ellie and sat down on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest. “I felt I had to prove that I’m cool,” you continued. “I thought you would stop for just one night if you saw how cool I can be.”

“You want the truth?” Ellie asked.

“You’re always truthful. So, I might as well say yes even if I don’t really give a shit.”

“I meant it when I said I was impressed earlier.”

You scoffed. “Sure.”

“I can’t even take two shots back to back like that.”

“Stop teasing, Ellie. I am convinced that being torn apart by infected is less stressful than dealing with you.”

“Just shut the fuck up and let me talk, okay? I’m leading into something.”

You flinched at her raised voice, slowly looking up to see her facial expression harden.

“I’m jealous of you,” she admitted. “I’m jealous that you can still believe in something and that you still care when everything is so fucked!”

You stood up, walking towards Ellie as she spoke. “I’d give anything, anything, to be that way. I had bitter feelings towards you. I think I wanted to tear you down so you wouldn’t be so… sweet. Giving, caring, everything I never could be.”

You watched her face closely, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth.

“I fuck girls like you and ignore them so they can hurt. Maybe I want the world to suffer with me,” said Ellie. “But I couldn’t do that to you. You’re too… good. I had to find another way.”

You paused as you connected what she said together. “Wait, you wanna…?” you trailed off, too shy to say it.

Ellie scratched her neck awkwardly. “Well, I did… but you’d never do that.”

“I might have,” you said, almost feeling ashamed of how bold you were being. You never would have thought this sober but Ellie was really pretty. If the circumstances were different, you knew that she would be your type.

Ellie was taken aback by your statement.

“What?” Ellie questioned.

“Not now, since I know you would’ve ignored me.”

Ellie stepped closer to you, eyeing your body up and down. She thought you looked good tonight and couldn’t help but to peek at your tits when you weren’t paying attention, or your ass when you were turned away.

“I… know I would’ve back then,” Ellie whispered, getting even closer to you. She stood above you, watching as your face turned red. Your heart sped up. You wondered why your panties started to feel a bit wet at the sight of Ellie looking down at you. You usually never got turned on. Ellie was right, you were just a good Christian girl who didn’t do anything. You never even tried touching yourself. Since you were breaking the rules now, you thought maybe you could break some more and pray for forgiveness later.

“I’m not so sure now,” Ellie continued, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never knew you were hiding that under all those baggy clothes.”

“A-Are you saying that in a bad way?”

Ellie shook her head. “When I first saw you earlier, I told Dina I kinda wanted to fuck you.”

Your breath hitched. “What did… Dina say?”

“That if I was nicer,” she said, stepping closer so there was almost no space left between your bodies. “I just might get to.”

Ellie caressed your cheek slowly. “Am I nice enough now, pretty girl?”

Your panties were soaked at this point. Your body trembled, afraid that you wouldn’t know what to do since it was your first time. Even though ten minutes ago you didn’t like the girl, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to be underneath her.

“I really… was lying earlier,” you mumbled.

“I know you were.”

“You don’t care that I’ve never… had sex before?”

Ellie smirked. “I’m glad you’ve never been fucked before. I want to be the one who corrupts you. I want everybody who fucks you after me to be a disappointment so you come crawling back. You’ll never find better than me, not even your own hand.”

Ellie leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. You pulled away to speak. “I don’t even do that…”

Ellie chuckled. “Really? Little church girl don’t know how to please herself?”

Usually, you would get mad at Ellie for saying stuff like that. Now, her insults just made you throb even more.

“Have you even kissed before?”

You bit your lip shyly and shrugged. “Not… really. When I was 13, a boy tried kissing me and I didn’t kiss back.”

“Aw, poor pup,” Ellie teased, running her fingers on the exposed skin of your tummy. “I get to teach you everything.”

Finally, Ellie collided her lips with yours. She was super gentle, placing her hand on your cheek and brushing it with her thumb. You melted in the kiss, pressing your thighs together to ease your aching cunt. The friction made it feel even better, causing you to release a soft moan into her mouth. Ellie pulled away, smirking at the noise you made. “I wanna hear more of that.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I can do anything to make you feel good.”

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

You hesitated a bit before nodding. Of course you wanted that. You were just scared that you’d be bad at it since you had zero experience.

“Then let me fuck you. I get off to getting you off, understand?” asked Ellie.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good girl,” Ellie praised. “Lay down, baby.”

You obeyed and laid down onto the bed. You watched as Ellie slowly took your boots off and dropped them onto the ground. “Lift your hips up for me?”

You lifted your hips and let Ellie pull your shorts off. Ellie bit her lip at the sight of your white cotton panties. She could see how soaked they were. “Look at that,” she breathed. You closed your legs to hide yourself but Ellie pulled them back open, holding your thighs down so you couldn’t move. “Filthy little girl,” she cooed. “What would God say about this?”

Your breathing started to grow heavier. “I-I don’t care what He would say,” you whined.

Ellie held back a moan that threatened to escape her lips. She pulled your panties off and threw them behind her.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “Your pussy is so pretty.”

She tugged at your shirt until you got the hint to raise up. She lifted the fabric over your head and dropped it on the floor. You were completely naked while Ellie was fully dressed. She rolled her sleeves up, her eyes never leaving yours. She crawled on top of you and started making out with you passionately. Without pulling away, she started to unbutton her jeans and took them off swiftly. She shoved her knee against your dripping cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. She placed her hands on your hips and guided them up and down so you were grinding on her.

“Just like that, baby. Good girl.”

You started to moan louder, Ellie covering your mouth and shushing you. “As much as I want to make you scream, you don’t want anyone to hear and interrupt us, do you?”

You shook your head no. “Will you be quiet for me?”

“Yes,” you whimper.

Ellie pressed her knee harder on your pussy. You started to go faster, mewling and biting your lip to keep quiet.

“Such a good girl. You listen so well,” Ellie complimented. She took her knee away and brushed a finger up your slit. Your body jolted at the feeling. “You want me to taste you baby?”

“Please,” you almost cried out, desperate for whatever Ellie planned on doing to you. Ellie moaned at the sight of you squirming. She loved watching you unfold beneath her. To think she ever hated you was beyond her at this point. She wished she had done this sooner as she admired how beautiful you were.

“Say it,” Ellie demanded. “Use your words, pup.”

“E-Ellie, please” you begged. “F-Fuck me.”

Ellie tutted, shaking her head no. “I plan on fucking you anyway. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”

You were confused. You’ve heard Dina say that Jesse would ‘eat her out’ but you weren’t sure what it really meant. Ellie saw the confusion on your face and laughed. “Wow, you’re too innocent.”

You started to sit up but Ellie pushed you back down softly. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t mean it that way,” she apologized. “It’s okay that you don’t know what that means. I’ll show you baby. You want that?”

You nodded. “Yes, please show me.”

Ellie leaned down between your thighs and started peppering kisses all over them. You reached down to grip her hair as her lips got closer to your pussy. She flicked her tongue across your clit once and looked up at you. “Do you understand now, pup?”

“Mm, yes Ellie.”

She smirked. “You want me to continue?”

“Please?”

Ellie chuckled as she went back down to your dripping cunt, licking it all up and swallowing. She savored the taste of you, going back down for more. You grabbed the pillow beneath your head to put over your face in an attempt to muffle your moans.

Ellie stopped and yanked the pillow out of your hands. “They turned the music all the way up finally. You don’t have to be quiet anymore. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

Ellie pressed her tongue against your clit and went back and forth between a circular motion and flicking it. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, your hands grabbing Ellie’s hair to pull her closer. She moaned against you, speeding her tongue up. She brought a hand up to play with your nipple, squeezing and pulling on it. Ellie used her free hand to gently push one finger in. You yelped, yanking Ellie’s hair harder. She pulled away and licked her lips. “Too much baby?” she asked, out of breath. You shook your head no and pulled her back to keep going.

Ellie loved how tight you felt. The feeling of you gripping around her finger made her want to bend you over and fuck you with a strap. She wished the party was at her place so she could have used all the toys she had on you.

A feeling began to build up in your stomach as you trembled harder. “E-Ellie!” you moaned, bucking your hips upward as you got closer and closer to cumming.

“Come on, baby. That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

All of the sudden, your body began to convulse as your orgasm hit you hard. Ellie slowly fingered you, riding it out until you pulled away from her. She brought her finger up to your mouth, forcing it open and shoving it down your throat. You sucked on her finger with a moan.

“Such a good girl,” Ellie praised, elated with how quickly you catch on.

“Wow,” you mumbled, out of breath from all the noises you made. “Never in a million years did I think I’d lose my virginity to you.”

Ellie sent you a sly smile. “I never knew I’d take it.”

You raised up slightly, leaning against Ellie’s shoulder. “Are you still going to be mean to me?”

Ellie sighed. “No, baby. That’s all over now.”

“Good. Do I put my clothes on now?”

“Why do you have to ask for my permission?” Ellie questioned with a laugh.

You giggled. “Well, I like… asking you.”

“Well, then no. I think I want to fingerfuck you some more. Can you take that?”

You froze, looking up at her with a fucked out expression. You were exhausted but didn’t want your time with Ellie to end. “Mhm, I think so.”

Ellie leaned back a bit and grabbed you. “Come lay in my lap, baby. Ass up.”

You complied and laid down, arching your back in excitement. Ellie rubbed her hand over your ass, squeezing tightly as you moaned. “Tell me, did you pray for me?”

Before you could ask what she meant by that, she shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt. You yelped as she fucked you with them slow and hard. “That one time when you got mad at me for making fun of you, you said you’d pray for me. Did you?”

Ellie sped her movements up as she went deeper inside you.

“Fuck!” you yelled out, trembling and kicking your feet at the feeling.

“Answer me, pup, or I’ll stop,” Ellie threatened.

“Yes!”

“Yes what, baby?”

“Yes! God, yes, I prayed for you!”

Ellie went even faster as you got closer to cumming again. “Atta girl, such a sweet pup. Praying for a sinner like me.”

“Ellie! Fuck! I-I prayed for you everyday!” you babbled, unable to speak without getting interrupted by your own sounds of pleasure.

“Yeah? Told God how bad you wanted me? Told Him all your dirty thoughts, you filthy slut?”

You moaned louder, bucking your hips up towards Ellie . “Yes!”

“You’re gonna ask for forgiveness, aren’t you? Like the good Christian girl you are.”

“Mm, yes, Ellie,” you whined, your orgasm about to take over you.

“Then ask, baby, ask.”

“God, forgive me please,” you said in between moans as you finally came undone for her. The force of you cumming shook your entire body and made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t help but to repeat Ellie’s name until you started to come down, your body almost collapsing onto her lap.

“Good girl.”

Ellie helped you up onto your feet, your legs shaking. “Let me help you get dressed,” she offered.

As Ellie helped you into your clothes, you couldn’t help but feel awful. “Ellie? Did I… make God mad at me?”

Ellie stopped, placing her hands on your shoulders and staring deep into your eyes. “Who could be mad at an angel like you?”

You blushed, removing yourself from her grip and tugging your shirt over your head. You put your shoes on next and sighed, looking up at Ellie with a tired smile. “Do we say anything?”

Ellie shook her head no, quickly fixing your hair so it wasn’t obvious what happened. “Just say we talked and you forgave me. I had one hell of an apology,” she uttered with a goofy grin. You laughed softly.

“So, you’re not gonna ignore me, right?”

Ellie wrapped her arms around you for a second before stepping back, eyeing you up and down while heading towards the door. Your heart stung, wondering if maybe Ellie didn’t mean what she said before.

“Come by tomorrow night,” said Ellie as she turned the knob. “I’ll fuck you so good that you won’t question me again.”

Ellie left you standing there, your mouth open in shock. You waited a couple minutes before heading downstairs to the party.

“Hey,” you heard Dina call out to you. She grabbed your hand and looked at you with concern. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Ellie. It just made her worse. I begged her not to talk to you but-”

“Dina,” you interrupted. “She explained herself and I explained myself. We’re all good.”

Dina looked surprised. “What? Really? You forgave her?��

You looked behind Dina to see Ellie back on the couch, staring at you with a grin as she puffed on her joint. You smiled at Dina and nodded. “Of course I forgave her. Her apology was genuine and…”

“What did she say?” Dina pressed on.

You shrugged. “I can’t remember everything she said but it was one hell of an apology.”

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lillikitty · 15 days

Text

BSD Men favorite thing about you HC

Featuring: Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi, Akutagawa, Fyodor

Osamu Dazai

Your body.

Yes yes, looks aren’t everything but he absolutely worships your body.

Whether you’re skinny, curvy, he loves everything about your body.

Your chest, your hips, your legs, your ass. He loves everything about you and he can’t see any imperfection.

He is actively always trying to kiss anywhere he can. His favorite is to give you raspberries on your tummy. He loves how you giggle.

But he also loves covering your body in marks, hickeys, anything that shows others that you belong to him.

“You’re so beautiful bella, the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Chuuya Nakahara

Your hair

He loves playing with your hair, it’s his favorite thing to do.

He often asks to style it, your hair is just perfect and it listens to him unlike his hair.

He loves how soft it is, how easily he can run his fingers through it.

When you’re cuddling in bed he almost always playing with it.

And when you’re making out? Oh his hand never leaves your hair. It’s always on the back of your head, gripping it and sometimes tugging it to get those delightful sounds out of you.

“You should let me braid your hair today. It’ll look beautiful, trust me.”

Atsushi Nakajima

Your kindness

He’s never met anyone as kind as you. Someone willing to put their own needs aside for someone else.

You’re always willing to help him, always willing to brighten his day.

He watches you with a lovestruck gaze as you help nurse a baby bird back to health.

Someone as kind as you is truly and angel, he doesn’t believe you’re simply a human. You must be from a higher place, he’s blessed to have you.

He always tries to treat you with the same amount of kindness you treat him with, but he can just never seem to match you, and that’s okay. He’s just happy to have you in his life.

“You’re an angel, the sweetest angel ever.”

Ryunosuke Akutagawa

Your laugh

It was a complete accident when he made you laugh. He didn’t even say anything funny but you just started laughing.

It was the most angelic sound he’d ever heard. Better than any symphony. He couldn’t even describe it.

He didn’t even know he could make someone laugh but now he’s always trying to make you laugh, though his actual attempts at jokes aren’t funny, you laugh anyways at his awkwardness.

He always stares at you when you laugh like he’s mesmerized.

He even starts to smile every time he makes you laugh as he can’t contain the emotions he’s feeling.

“Your laugh is pretty…”

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Your touch

You have such a gentle touch, never once has he felt in danger when you touch him.

Your skin is so soft, softer than anything he’s ever felt.

He loves it when you cup his face in your hands. He always leans into you when you do it.

He always wants to hold your hand and give it plenty of kisses. Something this soft must be cherished.

You’re the only one who can touch him without dying. He would never pass up the opportunity to feel your touch.

“Don’t ever let me go dove.”

#dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #atsushi x reader #akutagawa ryuunosuke #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd #bsd x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

Text

Irresistible {5} || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: You’re finally accustomed to life in the paddock but still have no interest in the sport. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, panic attack, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Charles liked to watch you sleep. He could happily spend all his time memorising the way your eyelashes fanned out, fluttering now and again with whatever dreams you faced. He found peace with your relaxed state, your head on his chest, your legs tangled with his.

That peace was broken with your phone's vibrating alert.

Charles should have ignored it, let the call go to voicemail but he was angry that his time with you was disturbed. Easing you on to your own pillow, he spared a glance to check you were still asleep before swiping your phone up.

“Hello Max,” he answered as he closed the bedroom door. “How can I help you?”

Max ground his teeth at the idea of asking anything from Charles, but he took a calming breath first. “Can you pass the phone Y/N?”

“No,” Charles replied after a long pause meant to torture the Dutch driver.

“Why not?”

“Because she is asleep.” Charles pulled the phone away to hang up but Max’s voice sounded in the quiet room.

“It’s never going to work out,” he stated bluntly. “If it’s not your career, it’ll be your family, but one will be ruined.”

Charles' hand tightened around the phone and it was a miracle the screen didn’t crack from the force of it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then you are as stupid as you act.”

The call ended and Charles liked to think he hit the red button first before he tossed the phone onto the couch and collapsed down beside it. His peace was well and truly gone as Max’s words repeated in his head, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already told himself. He had tried to listen to reason and failed miserably. He had to have you, and it was more than just infatuation. He wasn’t just tempted by you, he was consumed by you.

He could never let you go.

“Who were you talking to?” you murmured as Charles climbed back into bed. Sensing the cold space beside you, you had woken to hear Charles on the other side of the door.

“No one, ma biche,” he soothed as he pulled you back where you belonged. You cozied your head on his chest and listened to his rapid heartbeat begin to slow. “Sleep now, we have an early flight.”

—

The room spun at a dizzying speed and you closed your eyes as you held on tighter.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Charles chuckled, catching the office chair and jolting you to a stop.

“I’m so bored,” you complained as the room still continued to sway. “Do you ever get to finish early and, I don’t know…do something fun?”

Charles massaged your shoulders, the most he could get away with as a friendly touch. “It’s busier this weekend,” he apologised. “It’s the 70th anniversary of F1.”

You might not know much about the sport but you knew that. There were signs everywhere to remind you.

“We’ll do something fun after the race,” he promised before his and was called.

Something had been happening with the car, so the readings or data said, and it took all of Charles' attention between practices. More than usual. You were left to try to form your own entertainment but it was a losing battle.

It appeared the party was moving from the garage to the hospitality building so you followed, clutching Charles shoulder with instant regret for spinning in the chair.

“A little dizzy?” he teased quietly in your ear. “Or are your legs still weak from this morning?”

You lightly slapped his chest and as the motion of the earth moving under your feet subsided you put a respectable distance between you both. Charles just couldn’t help himself when sat beside you as the meeting continued over plates of food, his hand finding your thigh after ‘dropping’ his napkin.

“Why don’t you go for a drive and I’ll meet up with you for dinner?” he offered, seeing your eyes glaze over when his engineer started talking statistics. He slipped his keys into your hand and kissed the air beside your cheeks. You would have preferred a French kiss but the friendly one would have to do.

You were grateful for the escape he offered and clutched the keys as you stood up, excusing yourself from the table. “What’s the speed limit around here?” you teased as you backed away.

Charles' eyes narrowed in warning but it only made you smirk as he growled, “Bambi…”

Xavi cocked an eyebrow at the nickname, his eyes looking between the two of you like he was trying to connect the dots. “Why do you call her Bambi?”

“Because my mother is dead,” you answered, knowing how quickly questions were dropped when death was mentioned. Charles choked on the drink he was sipping but you were already out of the door before he could say anything.

You could taste the freedom on your tongue as you rushed through the paddock but it came to a halt when Max stepped out of the Red Bull garage. Decked out in his navy shirt and matching trousers, you couldn’t actually recall seeing him in anything except the merch.

“Should I tell security that the woman who looks remarkably like you went that way?” he asked, pointing in the opposite direction. “You are running from them, aren’t you, schat?”

You laughed at the idea and leaned closer. “Someone may or may not have let the air out of Lewis’ tires...”

Max’s eyes sparkled with mischief and he grabbed your hand, tugging you back into his hospitality unit.

“What are you doing?” you asked between giggles.

“Can’t have this someone getting arrested, not on my watch,” he promised as he led the way through the building to a private room similar to Charles’. “We can hide in here.”

“Let me guess, the name on the door will protect me?” you joked as you took a seat on the couch and picked up the PlayStation controller. “What are you playing?”

He turned the tv on as he sat beside you. “FIFA, but there’s other games over there.”

You reached for the stack of plastic cases and rolled your eyes at the F1 game as you shuffled through the titles. You hadn’t heard of half of them, but the ones you knew of were what Charles played at home.

“Don’t you have a debrief or whatever?” you asked curiously. He seemed like he had been relaxing in the room for some time given the half full bottle of water and protein snack wrappers on the coffee table.

“Not for me, my car is running good. Is that what Charles is busy doing?”

You sent him a peeved look at the mocking tone and he sent an innocent smile back. “If you don’t have a meeting, does that mean you can leave?”

“I probably shouldn’t stray too far, but I don’t have to stay here. Where were you thinking of going?” he asked as he saw you toying with the key to a Ferrari.

“I don't know,” you admitted, “anywhere that is a change of scenery.”

Max sat up and swiped the keys. “I know somewhere. It’s not much of a change but it’s close by.”

“Can I have my keys back?”

Holding them over his head, he backed away to the door and opened it. “Come and get them,” he dared.

Your faux huff of annoyance only made him smile more before he pulled his facemask on. “You’re a child, you know that!”

He chuckled as you followed him out of the room and when you drew level with him he dipped his head down. “If you really think that I’m a child then you shouldn’t be dreaming about me.”

“Gross,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“You didn’t deny it though.”

A laugh bubbled up and you elbowed his ribs. “Shut up. And just to confirm, I don’t dream about you.”

Max looked straight ahead as he turned out of the hospitality building and down the path that went to the car park. “No, you probably dream of brown hair and green eyes.”

You stumbled over a crack in the concrete before you recovered with heated cheeks. “Yes, Harry Styles is frequently in my dreams. You don’t happen to have his number by any chance?”

“Even if I did, I don’t think I could give it to you,” he said after a few steps.

“Why not?”

Blue eyes burned as he stopped to face you, his fingers reaching for your cheek before he caught himself and pulled back. “I’d be too jealous, schat. That’s why. Now are we breaking out of here or what?”

Less than fifteen minutes away Max pulled into another racetrack and you groaned as you heard the whizz of engines flying by.

“I thought you were taking me somewhere different!”

“It is different,” he argued with a laugh as he was given entry by someone in a Red Bull shirt. “MotoGP is way more insane.”

“Moto…w-we should head back.” The high scream of the motorcycles tore past again as you stepped out among the almost empty grandstands. Your eyes could barely track them with the speeds they were reaching, but you couldn’t look away.

“We still have plenty of time,” Max said, clearly interested in the race that was going on. “Do you want to get a closer look? We can go down to the team.”

Your hands began to shake and you buried them in your pockets as another pair of riders flew into a corner together. The tail of one motorcycle clipped the other and they both went crashing to the ground, skidding across the track and into the gravel. Nausea knotted your stomach and you dropped down into the seat, burying your head between your knees as you drew ragged breaths into your lungs.

Engines idled and sirens rang, but your heartbeat was louder than it all.

“Schat? Hey, talk to me,” Max called out but you couldn’t hear him over the throbbing beat in your ears. He tried a few more times before he fumbled for his phone and for the first time he hoped he would answer.

Charles apologised for his phone interrupting the meeting and usually he would have turned it off or on silent but you weren’t with him. Paranoia, protectiveness, call it whatever, but it made him leave the phone on loud.

He nearly declined the call when he saw Max’s name come up but something turned in his stomach as he innately knew it would be about you.

“Scusami,” he said as he left the room to take the call, dreading what he would hear. You assured him that Max was only a friend, but doubt ate at him every time he thought of the two of you hanging out. He knew Max wouldn’t keep you in the shadows, he knew Max could give you the relationship you wanted. He hated Max for reminding him constantly when you weren’t around to hear it.

Charles accepted the call and lifted his phone to his ear but he wasn't prepared to hear your sobs.

“What the fuck, Max!” Charles growled as he arrived, having sped from the nearby Silverstone track.

Max was stressed and combed a hand through his hair, grateful that Charles answered the call. “I don’t know what's wrong with her.”

Warm hands tore your face mask away and the air was no longer as hard to breathe. Those same hands cradled your cheeks and wiped away the tears that ran down them as they lifted your face.

“Breathe, biche,” Charles whispered as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Big breaths. In and out, that’s it. In and out. Good girl.”

You missed the touch of his skin as he pulled away to glare at Max. “What the hell were you thinking bringing her here?”

Max wiped his face, his cheeks coloured from the worry he felt as he watched you fall into a state of cold panic. He had called Charles, not knowing what else to do and your broken whimpers went silent as soon as he arrived.

“I didn’t know this would happen, obviously,” Max growled back. He hated how quickly you calmed at another man’s touch, how you hadn’t even reacted to his attempts to help. “Is she afraid of motorcycles?”

Charles softly brushed his hands over your hair, feeling the damp sweat from your fear, before he cupped his hands over your ears. It didn’t stop you from hearing his soft words. “Her mother died on one.”

Charles wrapped his arms around you and pulled you onto his lap, cradling you close as he glared at Max who looked ill. You couldn’t imagine how you looked, but you figured it was worse. “I swear I didn’t know,” Max muttered, reaching for you only for Charles to shield you in his arms.

Charles scoffed. “Because you don’t know her, so stop trying to and just leave her alone.”

Your strength was slowly returning and you shifted in an attempt to stand up but he held you closer. “He’s my friend, Charles.”

Charles' lips brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered, “He wants to be more, ma biche.”

The crash wasn’t as severe as your mind had assumed when you heard the sirens and the race was restarting, the engines revving as they left the pit lane. The sound had a shudder run down your spine and Charles felt it before realising why.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Charles soothed as he stood up.

“I can carry her,” Max offered, but Charles cut him off with a glare.

“She’s mine- uh, my step sister,” he stammered as he kept walking further from the track.

“Put me down, I can walk,” you said as you arched your back and he was at risk of dropping you. When your feet were back on firm ground you turned to Charles and your eyes softened at the protective look in his. “Thank you for coming here for me-“

“Always.”

“-but I’m fine now,” you continued as you took a step closer to Max. “We’ll meet you back there, okay?”

Charles' head snapped side to side with a sharp shake, “No, not okay.”

Max’s ego seemed to be revitalised with the small step you took and he moved half in front of you. “Mate, you’re not her boyfriend or her father, so stop thinking you have a say in what she can do.”

“She’s here for me, she’s travelling with me,” Charles stated coldly before he looked around the MotoGP buildings with distaste. “And I know what’s best for her.”

“Enough!” you shouted and you put yourself between them. “I just want to go, please.”

Charles sighed at the soft plea and nodded reluctantly. “I’ll see you in the garage.”

You watched him leave in another Ferrari that he had likely borrowed from his teammate, Sebastian, while Max opened the passenger seat of Charles’ car for you.

“I didn’t know about your mother,” he said softly as he buckled his seatbelt and turned the engine on.

You turned your gaze out the window and shook your head. “Don’t worry, it was years ago. I barely even knew her.”

You felt his hand on your thigh and you closed your eyes as they stung with fresh tears. “I’m so sorry, schat. Let me make it up to you, tonight. Let me take you out on a date, a proper date this time.”

“I can’t,” you mumbled to your lap.

“Why not?”

A fair question, you thought, but not one you were prepared to answer when neither of you had been so bold as to admit what both of you knew. “I can’t date you, or anyone.”

Max’s hand retreated and he scoffed. “Charles.”

“I can’t date anyone when I am in love with someone else. What I need is a friend.”

The tension in the tiny interior grew and Silverstone approached, before Max finally nodded. “Friends, okay. I can be your friend, schat. I’ll be the best fucking friend you have, and when this man you love fucks up and breaks your heart - I’ll be there to put it back together. Okay?”

The declaration had been weeks in the making and you choked down the sudden lump of emotion in your throat. You prayed the day would never come that Charles broke your heart but still found yourself nodding. “Okay, but Max…a friend wouldn’t call me schat.”

He smiled and shrugged, content that you hadn’t just shut him down completely - which would have been the kind thing to do. “I’ll just have to find another name for you then.”

Max walked you back to the Ferrari garage, ignoring the looks he received from the mechanics questioning his presence, but he wanted to make sure you arrived without incident. He was still feeling guilty for the panic attack that had left you drained and you promised you would rest once you were inside.

Charles barely looked up from his seat on the couch in his room, but you knew he knew you were there from the way his shoulders stiffened. Sitting beside him, you took one of hands and inspected the short nails and the ruined cuticle before enclosing it in yours.

“I wasn’t sure you were going to come back,” he admitted, barely above a whisper.

“There is only one place I want to be. This…friction between you has to stop. He is my friend and nothing more,” you said as you tipped your head onto his shoulder.

Warm lips pressed to your forehead. “It felt like you chose him over me. I could hardly think clearly enough to drive.”

“Never, Charles. I love you, as crazy as that may be. No one will know me like you do, Charles. No one else could make me crazy enough to think we could ever have a happy ending - but you do.” His shoulders bounced with a small laugh and you shifted onto his lap so you could cup his face in your palms. “Max knows my heart belongs to another man, to you. He knows friendship is the only thing I can offer him.”

“I don’t like it,” Charles grumbled, his hands finding their way to your waist.

You laughed and kissed his pouting lips before pulling back. “You don’t have to like it, but I need friends. I moved to a new country and then spent four months with one person.”

“Two,” he interjected before zipping his mouth shut.

“I haven’t been able to meet anyone except for your friends and there is a pretty big shortage of females around here.”

Charles inhaled deeply before sighing. “I understand, Max is the closest to a female you could find.” His lips kicked up in a smirk and he tensed, expecting your punch to his shoulder as he laughed. “No, no, I do understand. I didn’t even think about how lonely you must be, I’m sorry, ma biche.”

You accepted his apology with another kiss and smirked when he pulled you closer on his lap. “Is this the cure for my loneliness?” you asked as you felt him growing hard beneath you.

“I don’t know, but I think we should test every possibility.”Your response was stolen by a knock at the door and Charles groaned as he was told to start warming up for the next practice. He dropped his forehead to yours before shifting you back onto the couch as he stood up and rearranged the bulge in his trousers. “Fuck, I was warming up.”

Chuckling, you made yourself comfortable on the couch with his jacket as a pillow. “Put all that energy to good use and wake me when you are done.”

“Oh I’ll wake you, ma biche,” he said with a wink, “but you didn’t say how.”

Click here for part six.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n

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sweetiecutie · 7 months

Note

AHHHH I NEED MORE KEEGAN IN MY LIFE PLEASE could you write some Keegan h/c?

Pairing: Keegan P Russ x fem! Reader

Warnings: just general stuff, language, bad driving, NSFW under the cut, mdni, spit kink

A/n: it’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing😌 Keegan is such a bad bitch, he deserves more attention

• Starting off - I’m pretty sure that Keegan would want a civil partner; someone not related to military and actually as far as possible from all the war stuff. First of all, it’s to avoid having constant fear of losing you on the battlefield - it’s a highly dangerous job, sometimes coming out alive is not only a matter of skills, but also pure luck. Secondly, the amount of trauma and emotional damage Keegan carries is more than enough for two people - he needs someone grounded and, well, more stable, someone who will be able to give him a piece of blissful domestic life, faraway from all the constant war Keegan lives in.

• Always referring to you as his girl in conversations with other people or when introducing you to someone new. “That’s Y/n - my girl” “That’s for my girl, she likes pink” “My girl doesn’t like the smell of smoke so I’m trying to quit”. It’s also a way of showing everyone that you’re his - letting others know from the very beginning that you’re taken and no one better try anything with his precious girl, otherwise a few bones will be broken.

• Gives off annoying older brother vibes. He’ll always playfully nag you, and it’ll only become worse once you start dating. Placing stuff on the highest shelves just to watch you struggle to get it yourself, drawing some silly doodles on your notes, messing with your makeup that you spent nearly an hour organising neatly, punching your favourite plushie just to get a rise out of you. And of course, constant bickering! “Keegan, can you pass me that book?” - “Fuck no” *passes the book*. “Keegan, I want some sushi” - “Well shit, what am I supposed to do about that?” *already placing an order online on his phone*

• Another amazing driver here. Keegan has horrible road rage, hitting the car horn aggressively, yelling most intricate insults out the window at whoever that happened to piss him off. I also have a feeling the he drives really fast and reckless, teasing you whenever you ask him to go slower - so you better always buckle up. And yes, he definitely got in a few minor accidents - scratching or leaving indents on other car’s bumper.

NSFW here~*•.

• And while we’re speaking of driving - just imagine giving him a sloppy noisy head while being stuck in a long traffic. Keegan is seething with hot anger, rolling his eyes on other drivers, lack of nicotine adding to his distress. And here’s a sweet lovely you trying your best to make Keegan feel at least a tad bit better, soothing his booming annoyance with your silky tongue swirling around throbbing shaft, cheeks hollowing to provide stronger suction, allowing Keegan to set the pace. And it seemed to work wonders on him - his nape against the headrest of driver’s seat, pretty blue eyes half lidded, staring at the car ceiling, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, feeling your throat wrapped around his cock.

• Oh, how nasty he is. Biggest spit kink ever - ordering to open your mouth nice and wide just to spit a thick globe of saliva in it, then closing your jaw and making sure that you swallow it. Will gladly let you spit in his mouth as well; loooves messy wet kisses - either during make out session or after you gave him head, slurping up your spit mixed with his cum from your lips and chin. Very often uses his spit as lube, or telling you to spit in his palm before spreading it all over his needy leaking cock, plunging it deep inside your warmth.

• A horndog. You never have to ask him if he’s in a right mood because yes, he is. He is always in the mood to fuck. Now, he always lets you know that it’s totally fine if you say no - Keegan will never pressure or guilt trap you into any kind of intimacy, no means no. You can always cuddle up together or do something fun like cooking, dancing or simply dorking around. But if your sexdrive happens to match his - oh boy, I’m sorry for your neighbours. Let’s just say - there’s hardly any surface in your flat that you didn’t fuck on.

• It’s nothing new, but this mug is cocky. Like, I don’t think he has unimaginably big dick - not small for sure, but not huge as well; but the way he works with it - a chef’s kiss. Keegan just knows how to angle his hips to massage that one spot within you, how you like your clit to be played with, how he quickly discovers and memorises all the sweetest spots of your body. “Aw, cumming already? I barely touched you, does it feel this good?” - he’d purr, curling three of his long fingers inside of your needy cunny, thumb flicking swollen clit while hot mouth sucks on perked up nipples.

• Daddy kink? Daddy kink😏

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give writers some love<3

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cloudcountry · 1 year

Text

the first ice cream cone

SUMMARY: You take Malleus on an ice cream date! Except...something doesn't go as planned.

CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia

WARNINGS: None!!

COMMENTS: I wrote this for a friend, but someone on quotev requested something for Malleus too!! I hope you enjoy it (and I have a baking oneshot in the works too C:)

~~~~~

You’d done some research before taking Malleus out on a date, asking Lilia what he seemed to like the most whenever they went on their outings. Lilia seemed amused at your question, but humored you with a slice of knowledge.

“He loves ice cream. It’s his favorite!” Lilia hummed, sipping on the tomato juice you brought him as a bribe, “Just don’t buy him any cake to go with it—the last time I bought him a cake, he ate the entire thing. He had really bad heartburn and has now sworn off of them.”

Now here you were. Standing outside of a nearby ice cream shop with a terrifyingly strong dragon man on your arm. He didn’t seem like it though, his eyes wide and full of wonder.

“Child of man…” he shook your arm gently, “Is this an ice cream shop?”

“Yes! I was hoping it’d be a good first date idea…I even talked to Lilia to make sure I wouldn’t do anything wrong.” you nodded, proud of your planning.

“It’s wonderful.” a smile flickered across his face, “Shall we?”

You dragged him inside first, insisting on paying with the limited amount of money Crowley had allowed you this week. You’d been saving up for a few weeks just in case, so anything Malleus wanted to try on this date would be his.

“Fascinating.” his stare was owlish as he blinked at the two scoop cones he ordered.

“I was surprised you went for pistachio.” you hummed, leading him to a bench outside.

“I was curious. I’ve never had this flavor before.” he eyed it up before taking a lick.

You watched him eat for a bit before you remembered your own ice cream, still watching him. He never looked this peaceful when he was in school, likely because Sebek and Silver would trail him constantly. You were lucky you could sneak him away for a little bit—there’s no doubt Sebek was probably losing his marbles over Malleus’ disappearance right now.

“Thank you for getting me away for a little while.” he said, placing a hand over yours.

“It’s no problem. You deserve it.” you wrapped your fingers around his hand and squeezed.

He chuckled, but said nothing else. You two enjoyed the ice cream and the quiet bustling of the outside world, without Lilia or Sebek or Silver or Ace or Deuce. Or Grim, actually. Especially Grim.

“Oh.” Malleus huffed, sounding alarmed.

You glanced over, watching as he clutched his head dramatically.

“Is everything okay?” you placed your hand on his back, watching him closely just in case he decided to pass out on you.

“Child of man…I believe I have been poisoned. My head…is collapsing.” he groaned, his grip on his ice cream cone beginning to crush the wafer.

“Are you…are you talking about a brain freeze?” you furrowed your brow, baffled at one of the strongest mages crumpled over at your feet from a little brain freeze.

“What is that? Will my brain turn to ice? I assure you, I am not so weak as to collapse—”

“Malleus.”

“I can handle myself. I shall consult the library as soon as possible so this disease cannot fester.”

“Malleus.”

“Child of man, I thank you for the brief pleasantries we shared before there was an attack on my life.”

“Malleus, listen to me.” you grabbed his arms, pulling him up, “It’s not fatal. A brain freeze is harmless. It’ll be gone in a minute. I promise.”

Malleus halted his dramatic hand movements staring at you in wonder.

“Child of man, your knowledge knows no bounds. I feel better already.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed deeply.

Well, it wouldn’t be Twisted Wonderland if you could go on a normal date.

#auburn's fics <3 #drabbles <3 #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst x reader #twst x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia fluff

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hana-no-seiiki · 21 days

Note

This is generally such a stupid ask but I feel like it would be.. Chaotic? At the very least amusing

Anyways

Batfam x Nicole from Class of 09! Reader

Do what you want (etc make it romantic or platonic, doesn't matter)

Just the batfam (yandere ofc) dealing with a chick who loves to ruin lives for her amusement and sometimes for revenge

Istg she'll just bully them at any chance she gets

~ 🕒

I just binged watched Class of ‘09 and all its endings/choices for you non. I don’t think I can fully depict how brash wittiness of Nicole is but here I go! (I am so traumatized) Didn’t know that’s where “No I’m flirting with you flash me a tiddy bitch” came from no wonder Nicole sounded so familiar.

btw if people are interested in watching class of ‘09 just be warned it’s basically a VN version of Degrees of Lewdity but the mc is actually a minor (without the sex/r*pe mechanic though) and it depicts a lot of just… pedophilia, necrophilia, assault, su*c*de, school shootings, racism??, BE WARNED.

The following content above ^ might be mentioned in this fic but in passing. MASSIVE DDDNE WARNING.

I don’t think I’m comfortable writing stepcest/incest in this blog so despite how perfect it’ll be to make Bruce your step father considering Nicole’s mom has divorced like a hundred times…maybe ask me in @yoru-no-seiiki and I’ll be down for it.

THIS IS ADMITTEDLY TIM + DAMIAN CENTRIC

“Do you even care? Do the results of your actions mean anything to you?”

“Yeah when they affect me, sure.”

You were a bitch. There was no denying that. But you were a pretty one. One many would grovel to be under.

You were used to this, ever since you reached a certain age people just looked at you different, acted in a way that… made you think they were boring, utter losers.

One of those losers was Tim’s friend.

Like all the stupid, horny men in your life, you hung out with him once and he spilled everything there was that you could share.

To the entire campus, the internet, even the news.

And because you were pretty, you got off scot-free. Those morons didn’t even check to see what you’ve been doing the past decade.

Except Tim. Timothy Drake. You only knew that his dad was super rich, and as much as it was tempting to sink your teeth into him and get a load of that daddy’s money, you knew better.

He apparently didn’t.

You see there was one thing every batfam member couldn’t resist. Well, two things. The first was saving people.

The second? Fixing them.

When Tim first approached you he was confused.

You were quite the popular figure in Uni. He heard the rumors. He fully expected to be cussed out to hell and back.

But you were… nice. Agreeable at most really. Brash was an understatement. But you were witty. Your comebacks were swift and deadly.

The more he studied stalked you the more he realized that the two of you were the same.

Two bright people stuck with dull idiots.

And Tim? Tim interested you enough for you to not to completely drop him after the first week. That and most of your bullying probably wouldn’t bode well towards the son of a billionaire.

He was smart, even more so than that nerd friend of his that you destroyed the life of. But more importantly he actually had some tact, and was surprisingly packed underneath all those baggy clothes.

Tim had to admit he was kind of forgetting his entire purpose of ‘fixing’ you.

Until you manipulated yet another guy into jumping off a school building for you. Thankfully he survived because Red Robin happened to be there to apprehend him but still!

And what’s worse, you met up with him afterwards talking about how that Red Robin ruined all your plans of crippling a r*pist.

Wait, a r*pist?

Tim looks through your past victims once more. Admitted he only did a surface level job of studying them in comparison to his PhD level knowledge on everything about you specifically.

And…you were right. Every guy you’ve harassed was being pushy with you in the first place, if not people with authority a decade older.

Fuck.

Well now he had no excuse. He had to make you his.

Meanwhile…

“Ugh, Damian. Can’t you tell your brother to like, fuck off or something? I can feel my social standing totally plummet every second he’s around. How do you handle being related to him?” You groaned. You weren’t fucking stupid. You knew Tim was stalking and drooling all over you lately. You hated it. He was ruining your chances with your new victims.

“Jeez [Y/N]. And here I thought you were like, into him.” Jessica, your actual crush and best friend, commented as she filed her nails.

You being the emotional stunted adult you were only replied with an (admittedly softer) “Eat a sandpaper cock and die bitch.”

Damian stared at you, the words die before they crawl out of his mouth. His hands clenched underneath the lunch tables.

Guess he had another thing to steal from his brother this time.

314 notes · View notes

nastybuckybarnes · 2 years

Text

Riding Lessons

Pairing: Dbf!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve just passed your knowledge test and now you need someone to teach you how to ride. Who better than your dad’s best friend?

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Smut, Age Gap (Reader is 21, Bucky is mid-forties),

Word Count: 3.8K

A/n: I have a new obsession and it’s dbf!bucky. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy this and I love you all very much!

~*~

You straddle the bike, feet planted firmly on the ground as your hands grip the handlebars.

“It’s heavier than I thought!” You tell your dad with an excited grin.

He only chuckles and pats your right hand.

“Yeah, it’ll take some getting used to.”

“Hey, Kid, be careful on that. Don't want you to hurt yourself,” A new, cockier voice says.

You hold back a shiver and an eye-roll as Bucky emerges from your house, a bottle of beer in hand.

“She just passed her knowledge test,” your dad says proudly, a smile on his face. You grin right back at him and nod, your eyes flickering to his best friend for just a moment.

“Now I just need to get in some practice with a good teacher.”

Your dad nods before his face lights up, and you can almost see the lightbulb over his head.

“Maybe Bucky could teach you how to ride!” He suggests, an innocent smile on his face.

Your bottom lip immediately goes between your teeth at the innuendo and you look over at the huge tattooed brunet whose eyes are now focused on you.

His steel-blue eyes get dark as he imagines you riding not only his bike, but his cock, too.

“Yeah, I could give you some lessons if you want, Kid. Can’t promise I’ll be the best teacher, but I’ll give it a shot,” he says after a moment, watching you lick your lips.

His nickname for you is a constant reminder that your crush is just that: a crush. Never to be more than a dream.

And, although being near him is hard enough to do without your panties getting wet, he’s been riding for almost thirty years. Where else are you gonna find a better -and cheaper- teacher?

“Sure, that’d be great, Bucky. Thanks.”

He nods, “it’s gonna cost you, though. Each lesson I expect a case of beer, yeah? Maybe a pizza, too.”

You roll your eyes but nod nonetheless.

“Can we get started now? I wanna be able to ride before the summer’s over.”

He swallows hard before answering, his wicked brain once again conjuring up images of you naked on his lap, bouncing on his cock. Those perfect tits in his face and that tight-

“Yeah, I, uh, I’m not doing anything later. I could swing by with one of my bikes, show you the ropes and whatnot,” he offers, shifting his weight to try and hide his growing erection.

“That’d be amazing! Thank you so much!” The excitement in your eyes does little to stop his swelling cock, but, thankfully, your father grabs your attention before you can notice the tent in his pants.

“Mark got tickets to the hockey game tonight, but you know you’re always welcome here, Buck. It’s not too late for you to change your mind about coming with me,” your dad says, already knowing the answer.

Hockey isn’t Bucky’s favourite sport, and he’s got much better plans for tonight.

He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, “no thanks. Tell the guys I say ‘hi’, though. And make sure you invite them to the barbecue, yeah?”

Your dad nods easily then heads inside the house, leaving you alone in the garage with Bucky.

Nervous winds give life beneath the wings of the butterflies in your stomach, and you nibble on your bottom lip.

“I’ll probably swing by around six. I expect a pizza and a pack of beer to be waiting, got it?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, “you’re gonna drink and teach me to drive?”

He chuckles and takes a step toward you, towering over you and looking into your eyes, “honey, I’m a grown man. A beer or two isn’t gonna put me over the limit. Besides, you’re not gonna be riding that thing fully today, anyway. Maybe you’ll make it out of the driveway, but I doubt it.”

You frown but nod, slightly intimidated by the man in front of you.

He slowly takes a step around you, taking a subtle inhale and holding back a groan at the sweet scent of raspberries wafting from your skin.

He walks over to his restored Camaro and slides in, giving you a raise of his fingers in farewell, before peeling out of the driveway and out of sight.

~*~

You spend the next several hours worrying about your lesson with Bucky.

You’ve only had a crush on the man for years, and now you’re getting to be alone with him. You’re not sure if you should swoon or combust.

The second option is definitely looking more appealing when you hear him pull up to your house, his bike rumbling.

With a deep breath and a final fix of your hair, you venture downstairs and outside, grabbing the pizza and beer on the way.

“Hey, Kid. I see you brought my payment,” Bucky says, a grin on his face when he sees you.

You smile, trying your best not to be shy but he makes it so hard.

His huge body takes up so much space in the garage, thick thighs straddling a Ducati.

“Yeah, hope you don’t get too carried away before actually teaching me, though,” you tease, setting everything down on one of the tables against the wall.

He only chuckles and kicks down the kickstand, then gets off of his bike to grab a beer.

“First I want you to tell me where the throttle is,” he says, popping the cap off with his belt buckle then bringing it to his lips.

You watch, entranced, as his pink lips wrap around the bottle. A drop of liquid trickles from the corner of his mouth down his chin, and you follow it with your eyes as it trails down his neck and then disappears beneath the collar of his shirt.

Bucky watches you as you stare at him, and he can’t help the pride that blooms in his chest when you pull your bottom lip into your mouth.

Slowly, he lowers the bottle and wipes the drop up, then takes a step toward you.

“C’mon, sweetheart. You gonna show me what you know?”

His voice snaps you back to the present and you raise your eyes to his, embarrassment filling you as you realize he caught you staring.

“Uh, the throttle is here,” you whisper, walking over to your bike and touching the right handlebar.

“Perfect. How do you get on a bike? Show me.” He could just ask you to explain it, but he wants to see you straddle the bike.

You walk to the left side then step over the seat, your hands coming to rest on the handlebars instinctively.

“Nice. Now, where is the rear brake?” He asks, stepping closer to the front of the bike to watch as you point just in front of the right footpeg.

“Now, front brake?”

Your fingers lightly graze the lever on the handlebar in front of the throttle.

“Gear shift and clutch?”

You point to the pedal in front of the left footpeg, then the lever behind the left handlebar.

“Look at you go. Where’s the kill switch?”

Your fingers dance over the button beside the right handlebar and he nods proudly.

“Very nice. Okay, I want you to kick the kickstand up and then just stand there, balance the weight of the bike, okay? That’s a big thing is getting used to how it feels to have something so big between your legs.”

Your core dampens at his words and your gaze drops to his crotch for just a moment before you do as instructed.

The bike is heavy between your legs, and you plant your feet to try and maintain control.

“Just like that, good girl.” It slips through his lips before he can stop it and you instantly melt into a puddle of arousal.

The bike wobbles and Bucky steps forward, grabbing the handlebars to stop it from toppling and taking you with it.

“Easy there,” he murmurs, his hands covering yours and squeezing as he steadies the machine.

You regain your strength and nod, holding the bike tighter.

“So now just walk it back and forth, okay? I’m gonna move with you until you get comfortable with the weight.”

You nod then take a deep breath and push the bike forward slowly.

Each step is small and wobbly, but after a few minutes, you start to get the hang of it.

“Okay, honey, I’m gonna step away so you can really feel it. I’ll be right beside you though.”

You nod and watch as he steps aside, slowly pushing forward and back again.

You give him an excited smile and he grins right back.

“Now start her up! You’ll be good in neutral, then I'll show you how to kick it into gear.”

You start the bike and it rumbles to life beneath you, the vibration shaking you slightly.

“Now, pull in the clutch and kick down on the gearshift into first gear.”

You do exactly that, keeping a firm grip on the clutch.

“Slowly let go of the clutch. Don’t give it any throttle yet,” he instructs, stepping beside you as you follow his directions.

The bike creeps forward and you instinctively squeeze the clutch again, squealing when you teeter away from him.

Bucky lunges forward, one arm coming across your legs to grab the side of the bike while the other grabs you, his hand resting half on your ass, half on your back.

He looks up at you to make sure you’re okay, but you can’t breathe.

He’s looking at you through his lashes, lips parted and pupils wide.

“Don’t let it scare you,” he teases softly, slowly rising up to his full height. His hand moves from the bike to your thigh while the other hand stays on your back, and you need to crane your neck to look at him.

He watches you as you lean your head back to look at him and he can’t help but wonder what your pretty face would look like if he were to spit on it right now.

Or cum on it.

God, he knows you'd look so pretty all covered in his cum, mascara running down your cheeks.

He wants to grab your face and shove his cock in your mouth.

Your innocent eyes look up at him, lashes fluttering, and it takes everything in him not to stroke your lips with his thumb.

He looks so intimidating from here. So tall and big and- your eyes drop down to his crotch only to widen comically.

Hard.

He’s hard.

And he’s fucking huge.

Your eyes dart back up to his and he has to hold back a chuckle at the wonder written across your face.

So many nasty thoughts swim through his mind. There are a thousand things he wants to say and none of them are appropriate given the fact that you’re his best friend’s daughter.

Instead, he takes a slow step back, then another, then walks to the table along the wall to grab another beer.

“We’re gonna try something a little bit different now, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

He walks back to you and steps over the back of your bike, straddling it and nudging you forward a bit until you’re as far forward as you can comfortably sit.

“Okay, I’m gonna explain everything, and you’re just gonna do what I say.”

A shiver races down your spine and all he wants to do is grab a handful of your hair and fuck you until you’re crying.

You nod, like the obedient little girl he knows you are, and a grin grows on his face.

“Ease up on the clutch again. We’re gonna walk in a little circle. I’ve got you, honey.” He’s one hundred percent doing this on purpose now, but he doesn't care.

The way you looked at him after seeing his erection is enough for him to know you’re not exactly opposed to whatever’s happening.

You ease up on the clutch and try to focus on the machine beneath you, not the heat radiating off of the man behind you. The man who now has one hand resting on your waist while the other holds his beer.

You pull forward slowly, then push on the right handlebar slightly, a jolt of excitement going through you as you move to the left.

“There you go, baby, just like that,” he whispers, his breath dusting over the back of your neck.

You clench your thighs around the bike, desperate for some friction against your dripping core.

You do another turn slowly but surely, walking your feet alongside the bike, and the hand on your waist gives you a squeeze.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

You squeeze the clutch and the brake hard, clenching your hands into as tight of fists as you can manage, and you lurch forward, your heart racing as your core throbs.

The sudden stop surprises Bucky, and he bumps into you harder than anticipated, sending his beer spilling across your shirt.

You gasp, arching away from the cold liquid.

“Sorry, kid. Here, put it back in neutral and shut it down. I think we can call it a night. I’ll help you clean up.” Is he hoping he’ll be able to catch a glimpse of you in just your bra? Absolutely. Is he ashamed? Not as much as he should be.

You do as instructed, waiting until after he gets up to move because you’re sure you’ll leave a wet spot on the seat.

You only get up when his back is turned, and then you wipe the seat quickly.

“You coming?”

Your eyes dart to his and, judging based on the knowing grin on his face, you weren’t as discrete as you thought you were.

“Y-yeah.”

You follow him into the house, closing the garage door tightly behind you.

He leads the way to the laundry room and you slowly follow, your heart racing at all the different dirty thoughts swirling through your mind.

He waits in the doorway while you step into the cool room, your back to him as you take a deep breath.

This is it. This is where a line is crossed and your relationship with your dad’s best friend will change.

You pull your wet shirt over your head and toss it into the washing machine, turning to look at the older man.

He stares at you, his dark eyes focused on your chest.

“Looks like I spilled a little on there, too,” he murmurs, his eyes slowly finding yours.

You hold his gaze as you unclasp your bra and let it drop to the floor, your breasts bare and your nipples hard.

Slowly, he steps forward, his eyes never leaving yours as he approaches.

You tilt your head back when he comes to a stop in front of you, your chest rising and falling rapidly with your quick breaths.

“That’s better. Doesn’t it feel nice to be out of those sticky wet clothes?” He asks softly, his fingers lightly dusting over your sides.

Goosebumps rise on your skin and you nod, unable to form a sentence.

“You’ve got a little bit here, though. Don’t want it to stick.” He drops his head down, warm tongue darting out to lick up a drop of beer that found your skin.

A gasp leaves your mouth and your hands come up instinctively to grab his shoulders.

Taking that as a green light, the big man in front of you grabs you by the waist and hoists you up, dropping his hold to your hips when you wrap your legs around his waist.

His erection presses against your core and you can’t help but moan softly in his ear at the feeling of it.

He sits you on top of the washing machine and forces his way between your legs, holding your chin with one hand and forcing you to look at him.

Your eyes are hooded and you swear if he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to explode.

“Do you want something, pretty girl?” He asks, pink lips pulled into a smile when you nod.

“Ask for it then, be a big girl.”

You lean your forehead against his chest and whine. You can’t help but feel tiny before him.

“Please, Bucky. I want you to touch me.”

Your words go straight to his cock and he can’t do anything to stop himself from doing exactly what you want.

One of his hands finds your breast, toying with your nipple while the other hand dips into your pants with practiced ease.

“Jesus, you’re soaked, sweetheart. Is this all for me, babygirl?” He already knows the answer, but seeing you all flustered is adorable and makes him want to fuck you even more.

“Yeah,” you whisper, pulling back to look up at him as he slides a finger inside of you.

He doesn’t have much room to work within the confines of your pants, but he makes do with what he has, one finger massaging your g-spot while another rubs your clit.

“O-oh! Like that, fuck... just like that...” your mouth drops open in a silent moan and he grins.

He leans forward and wraps his mouth around your other nipple and you toss your head back, arching your back and further pushing your chest into his mouth.

“Please... I’m gonna cum...”

He continues his assault on your young body, watching through dark eyes as you fall apart because of him, as your tight young cunt clenches around his fingers and fuck, he can’t wait to get his cock in you.

The front door opens and you hear your dad’s voice call out to you, making your eyes widen.

Bucky doesn't stop. He doesn’t even slow down.

No, he keeps his hand between your legs, determined to make you cum whether your dad finds out or not.

“You’d better answer him, sweetheart,” he whispers around your nipple, his teeth scraping against the bud.

You whimper softly and nod, bucking your hips into his hand as he continues working you closer and closer to that edge.

“I-I’m just grabbing a shirt!” You call, your voice faltering when Bucky bites your nipple roughly.

“Is Bucky still here?”

You bite your lip to try and hold back a moan as the coil in your belly tightens almost to the point of snapping.

“Answer him,” the man whispers from between your legs, scraping his teeth up your neck.

“Uh, yeah... somewhere,” you call, brows drawing together as you feel it coming.

“Okay. I’m gonna get changed, I’ll be back down in a minute.”

“O-Okay.”

Bucky licks your cheek then holds your throat, squeezing just hard enough to cut off your air.

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream of pleasure and he grins, feeling your walls clamp down around his fingers.

“There you go, there’s my good girl. Such a good girl, cumming for me like that,” he whispers against your skin, peppering kisses wherever he can reach as he fucks you through your climax.

Finally, he releases your throat and pulls his fingers from between your legs, and you suck in a huge breath, body like jell-o as he licks his fingers.

“Find a shirt then come on out, I’m sure your old man wants to know how good you were for me,” he whispers, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging your head back.

He plants a sloppy, erotic kiss on your mouth, then steps away from you and leaves the laundry room, fixing his erection on the way.

You stay there, panting on the washing machine for a long while before slowly climbing down on shaky legs.

You find a shirt and yank it over your head, then venture out to find your dad and Bucky.

The two of them are in the living room, sharing the pizza and some beer.

You take a seat next to Bucky, your thighs still shaking a bit, and smile at your dad.

“So how was the lesson?” He asks around a mouthful of food.

“It was good. He’s a good teacher.” You try to keep your voice level, you really do, but it’s hard to act normal while you recover from the most intense orgasm of your life.

“Nah, she’s just a good listener, picks up on things quickly. Real good at doing what she’s told.” Bucky’s hand squeezes your thigh and your dad nods, hardly paying attention.

“How was the game?” With those three words, Bucky has your dad launching into a detailed story of the hockey game. Thoroughly distracted, your dad doesn't notice when his best friend slips his hand higher on your leg to cup your mound.

You cross your legs and bite your bottom lip, hoping he doesn't notice anything.

When Bucky gets a little too daring, you stand up.

“I uh, I’m gonna go to bed. Thank you, Bucky, for the lesson.”

He nods, dark eyes on yours and filled with something that looks a little intimidating.

“Of course. If you’re free tomorrow night, maybe we can actually get you on the road, show you how it feels to actually ride.”

You swallow hard and nod, unable to look away.

“Goodnight, kiddo. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You turn without another word and race up the stairs as fast as your shaking legs can manage, your core throbbing with each step.

You try to fall asleep, you really do, but you can’t get the image of him out of your mind. Even when your fingers dip into your panties to try and alleviate the tingling between your thighs, nothing helps.

Now that you’ve had a taste of him, you know nothing will ever feel as good.

“I didn't tell you to leave,” his voice suddenly whispers from the doorway.

You snap your gaze over to him and yank your hand from between your thighs, your heart racing at the intrusion.

He steps into your room and shuts the door softly behind himself, his eyes dark and his cock straining in his pants.

“M-my dad-”

“Is asleep. Knocked on his ass from all that beer. It’s just you and me, babygirl. And I plan on finishing what we started.”

You swallow hard and scoot back on your bed as he approaches, his eyes focused on your face.

“Now, someone was a bad girl and left before I told her she could. Do you have anything you wanna say for yourself?” His hand comes up to hold your face, squeezing your cheeks and forcing your lips to pucker.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes wide and focused on his.

He nods, eyeing you closely, and then he pushes your mouth open further and spits in it.

“I don’t think you are, not yet. But you will be. I’m gonna show you what happens when you don’t let me have what’s mine.”

#bucky x reader #dbf!bucky x reader #dads best friend!bucky x reader #bucky x young!reader #bucky x innocent!reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky smut #Bucky Barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky/reader #bucky/you #bucky x reader lemon #bucky/reader lemon #lemon #smut #marvel smut

7K notes · View notes

taiyaki-o · 1 month

Text

HI NEIGHBOR! pt. 2

read pt 1 here!

synopsis: you and Megumi grow even closer, and some new developments have your life changing for the better

tags: gojo x gn!reader, fluff, non curse au

A few days pass, and you’re making breakfast when you hear a knock at the door. You dust off your hands as you answer.

“Hm? Oh, Megumi! It’s you!” You smile as you spot the boy, and he’s clutching the stack of books. He looks away a bit bashful and attempts to hold out the stack.

“I finished them. You can have them back,” he mumbles. You chuckle and take the books out of his hands before he drops them all.

“Did you enjoy them? Which one was your favorite?”

“I liked the book on sea animals a lot.”

“That’s one of my favorites too! The diagrams are really interesting, don’t you think?”

He nods. You notice that his gaze lingers on said book a little wistfully.

“Do you…want to keep it?”

Your heart melts a bit at the way his eyes light up.

“Really?” He asks shyly.

“Of course! I haven’t touched it for some time anyway. I think it’ll be better off with you.” You smile and give the book back to him, and he hesitates, but then grabs the book with two hands and hugs it to his chest.

“…”

You let out a soft grunt as he softly tackles you in a hug, and you quickly lift the books that are still in your arms out of the way.

“Woah, easy there!” You laugh. You find a space to dump the books and bend down a bit to hug him back.

“Thank you,” He mumbles softly but earnestly. You smile softly.

“Anytime.”

He brings his head back suddenly, his nose wrinkling.

“What’s that smell?”

You look up to see smoke coming from what should be your breakfast.

“Hm? Oh shit-“

After you’ve fanned away the smoke and thrown out your now burnt breakfast, you invite Megumi to come inside instead of just stand outside your door.

“Sorry about that, kid. Forgot to turn the stove off, silly me,” you say as you put the pans in the sink. A smile ghosts across Megumi’s face as well, and he sits politely on the edge of your couch.

It’s then that you notice something else.

“Where’s Gojo? Does he know you’re here?” You ask.

Megumi shakes his head. “He went out to buy some food. He’s probably coming back soon, though.”

“Well, do you have his phone number or anything? I think I should let him know that you’re here in case he comes back to an empty house,” you laugh.

You sit down on the couch next to Megumi, shutting off your phone.

“Do you watch any TV? Or is it just books?” you ask.

“A couple,” Megumi replies. “But mostly books.”

“Which ones?”

You end up putting on a few episodes of Pokémon, and Megumi curls up on your couch as you two sit together in comfortable silence.

SMACK!

Gojo groans as he hits his head against the steering wheel of his car, an angry red welt already forming on his forehead.

“That goddamned brat-!” Gojo seethes. He stares forlornly at the red light in front of him, dreading the interaction to come. Not only had Megumi forced him to be in your *angelic, beautiful* presence again, but the kid had the audacity to give you his number?! The mere thought of it made his cheeks turn cherry red.

He taps his fingers against the wheel, and looks over at the takeout bag sitting in the passengers seat. He sighs, rubbing his temples. Getting a new job, taking care of Megumi, moving to a new apartment…it was starting to get to him. Being a single father definitely wasn’t in his life plan.

Ten minutes later, he stood in front of your door, steeling himself for what was going to come.

“…”

He wants to tear his hair out. Why was he so nervous? This wasn’t anything special. He would open the door, pick up the brat, and go home. That’s it. He takes a deep breath.

knock knock knock!

The door opens, and Gojo immediately feels all the air escape from his lungs.

“Hey! Good to see you again,” You smile up at him, and he thinks heart might burst from inside his chest.

“Yeah, I just went to grab some takeout. Is, uh-is Megumi still here?” He rubs the back of his neck.

Megumi pops out from behind your legs, and you chuckle.

“Um-the restaurant gave me way more food than I expected-do you want some?” Gojo asks nervously.

(This is a lie. The second he saw your message he turned his car around and ordered another portion of food in hopes that he’d have an excuse to talk to you.)

“Oh! Are you sure?” You ask. He nods earnestly. “Well, do you want to come inside then? We were just watching Pokémon.” You ruffle Megumi’s hair a bit with a chuckle.

“Digimon is way better.” Gojo blurts out without thinking. He mentally smacks himself upside the head.

Stop being a fucking nerd, Satoru! No one wants to hear your opinions on Digimon!

You scoff in fake indignation. “It is not! Digimon wishes it was half as iconic as Pokémon.”

“Digimon is so much cooler though.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Are you coming inside or not?” You laugh. He blushes again, but steps inside your apartment. He does his best to ignore the familiar scent of your perfume in the air.

You grab some plates as Gojo unpacks the food, and soon the smell of Chinese takeout fills your apartment. Megumi retreats to the couch again to continue watching while you and Gojo sit at the kitchen counter.

“The kid give you any trouble?” Gojo chuckles.

“Not at all. He’s been great.”

“I think he’s taken a liking to you. At least more so than me.”

“Come on, I’m sure you’re great company.”

“Ahh, not really. ‘Specially because it’s just us. I don’t know what goes through his head sometimes.”

You desperately want to ask about the nature of their relationship, but you bite your tongue. You barely know these people, after all. No matter how much you enjoy their presence, you’d never pry into their private lives like that.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you view it), Gojo notices and he chuckles.

“I know what you’re thinking. And no, the kids not mine. Not biologically speaking. His mom passed away and his dad…isn’t in a good enough place to take care of him.”

Gojo sighs, throwing a look over his shoulder at the boy. “I’m all he’s got.”

You swear you see a pained expression on his face, but by the time he turns back it’s gone. “Pretty shitty to get stuck with me, huh? I’d feel sorry for him if he wasn’t a little shit.”

“Watch your mouth, mister. I might have to call the cops for child abuse.” You snicker as you point your knife at him jokingly. You feel a pang of sadness, however, as you process the information.

“I’d imagine it’s tough for the both of you…” you sigh. “I mean, did you plan on having kids?”

“Not a damn bit,” Gojo confirms. “Kinda feels like my life’s done a complete one eighty overnight.”

“You guys just moved here too, right? Where’d you come from?”

“Kyoto. Got a new job as a teacher at some school nearby. The kid seemed to want a fresh start anyway.”

Your eyes widen. “No way! I’m a teacher too! I teach at a school nearby!”

“Well, would you look at that! You wanna trade tips later?” Gojo jokes. “Wow, that’s…that’s a really crazy coincidence. Where do you teach?”

“Tokyo Tech. Or Tokyo Metropolitan Technical School, if you have a stick up your ass.”

Now it’s Gojo’s turn to widen his eyes. “That’s where my new job is!”

The two of you sit in stunned silence for a moment, before bursting out into laughter.

“Small world, huh?” You say as you catch your breath.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Gojo says as an ecstatic smile stretches across his face.

“I take it you’re the new janitor?”

“Oh shut up, you.”

“Can you two please keep it down? I can’t hear the TV,” Megumi looks over at you and Gojo with a slight scowl on his face. Gojo sticks his tongue out at Megumi, who simply rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the screen.

You let out another one of your angelic laughs, and Gojo physically kicks himself under the table to keep himself sane. He’s barely been keeping it together since he realized you two would be coworkers. The blush that’s fighting to travel up his neck takes all his effort to control. The thought that you’d be his coworker, that he’d be seeing you every day…saying hi to you in the halls…grading papers together….growing closer….

“Hellooo? Earth to Gojo?” You wave a hand in front of his face.

“H-huh? Oh, sorry!” He snaps out of his mini trance. “Zoned out there for a second, haha…”

He shoves a spoonful of rice into his mouth to give himself time to think before he embarrasses himself.

I really am a mess…

a/n: part 2! didn’t expect this to turn into a series, but ig it’s happening lol

feel free to message me/leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

taglist: @96jnie

#jjk fluff #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #taiyakiwrites #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #jjk x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo #gojo fluff

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cultofdixon · 1 month

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Life can try and take you away. But I won’t let it

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • People were falling sick and it turns out the new doc in Alexandria was slowly poisoning people. Boy did he meet his end • ANGST/SFW • TW: Nausea & Vomiting / Anxiety / Poisoning

Requested by: Anon

She looks exhausted Daryl thought when looking at Y/N from across the gardens watching her work slower than usual.

“Daryl, before you head back to the Sanctuary…Siddiq wants to load you up with more pain meds and vitamins he fou—-“

“Imma hang back for a bit. Besides, Rosita is training some of the women there. She can keep an eye on it until I get back” Daryl interrupts Rick but kept his attention on who matters. Rick noticed where his attention was and couldn’t help himself with stating the obvious.

“You know you love her. You’ve loved her for years. Why don’t you just—-“

“Shut it” Daryl cut him off once more when he watched Y/N stand to her feet a bit too fast for her liking and before she even knew it, she was falling back down. “Shit—-“ he quickly ran over with Rick following behind.

Hey

Wake up

Cmon Y/N

Cmon girl

Didn’t want to do this

Splashing her face with water only resulted in Y/N throwing a punch at the nearest person which happened to be Daryl as he caught her fist.

“Chill out. You fainted” Daryl helped her sit up along with Rick as they had someone grab Siddiq in case of anything else.

“So you splashed water in my face?” Y/N frowns pushing Siddiq’s hand away when he tried to feel her forehead. “I’m fine. I got up too fast”

“Are you feeling lightheaded? I would stay on the ground until—-

“I’m fine!” Y/N snapped pushing Daryl back a bit to give her room to stand up and once she did, she stumbled back into Rick as he quickly helped her steady herself. “Ugh. Whatever I’m going to lay down”

“It’ll do yea some good” Rick made his comment and caught her glare his way. “We will come check on you every once in a while. Daryl will you—-“

“I’ll stick with her”

“Oh well I meant just to walk her—-“

“Nah. I’ll give her her space but I’m sticking around in case of anything” Daryl stated, not taking any other suggestions as he rose to his feet keeping close to his currently upset friend who only wanted to work more. But everyone was afraid if she did, she’d pass out somewhere they couldn’t find her.

A couple hours passed and Daryl started to get worried the more he sat in the living room of Carol’s old place. He and Y/N still live there.

“Y/N?” Daryl eventually moved from his spot downstairs, entering her room with hesitation and a bit of panic when her supposedly sleeping form wasn’t in the bed. “Y/N?!” Then he flinched to the repulsive sounds of vomiting but he pushed through and entered the bathroom connected to her room finding her shaking form gripping the toilet. “Y/N, isn’t it getting—-“

“Worse” She choked out before vomiting again and at this point it was bile. Nothing left but her stomach acid coming up. “Everything fucking hurts” she sobbed, feeling Daryl pull her hair back and tie it up with the hair tie he always carries on him just for her.

Daryl gently rested his hand on her forehead feeling that the fever has gotten worse. His anxiety decided to act and radio Siddiq because he wasn’t going to leave her side.

He was instructed Daryl to carry her to the infirmary and to be careful because of her dizzy spells and the fact that she puked. The archer wouldn’t care if she threw up on him if it meant getting her on the road of recovery.

But arriving Siddiq uncovered more that was going on with Y/N. There was a rash on her arm and it seemed to go further under her clothes that Siddiq asked Daryl to get another set of clothes. Specifically a tank top and shorts.

“Y/N, come on. Need you to stay awake for a minute” Siddiq frowns holding her face to watch her eyes slowly lock onto his. She squinted looking at him feeling that pain return as she shut her eyes tight letting him practically man handle her to be on her side leaning over the bed to vomit. “It’s okay…we’ve gotcha. We’ll figure this out”

As Daryl makes a quick descend down the stairs with clothes in hand, he couldn’t help himself when it came to investigating what could be the cause of her symptoms. He set the clothes on one of the bar stools before checking around the kitchen finding ingredients left out.

Carol’s recipe? Daryl thought as he lifted the piece of paper beside the mess reading the ingredient list and the note left by Carol. He shoved the note in his back pocket about to leave when he couldn’t help but grimace to an off smell.

“The fuck…” Daryl scoffs picking up a few of the ingredients to see what the smell was coming from.

After a moment, Daryl came back with the clothes finding Siddiq finishing up an IV line and injecting a sedative.

“Did you—-“

“She was poisoned”

“What?” Siddiq frowns taking the clothes and getting his radio to contact one of their girl friends to help Y/N get changed. “How can you be sure?”

“She was making cookies. One of Carol’s recipes and she didn’t share any because it was a bad batch.”

“I still don’t—-“

“But there was this weird smell and I thought it was just. What was made. Burnt. Then I checked the flour she got and it was rat poison.”

“She grabbed rat poison from the pantry—-“

“No, it was in a flour bag. Somebody tampered with the pantry…this was deliberate” Daryl stated feeling his gaze latch onto Y/N’s curled up form as he gripped onto the clothes he got for her. “This is bad ain’t it”

“Being poisoned is no joke and she’s exhibited a lot of symptoms and if they only get worse…there’s only so much we can do. But right now I need to get my hands on the charcoal tabs from the Kingdom. They are known for helping with absorbing the poison.”

“I’ll go get it. You just. Please.”

Siddiq knew what he wants, what they all want. But it was different with Daryl.

“Siddiq….” Y/N shifted trying to keep herself awake even if her body ached terribly. But she needed to. “Is he gone?”

“He just stepped out. I can go—-“

“No…Siddiq…promise me something” She frowns watching him kneel to her bedside. “Don’t let it eat himself alive if I don’t make it”

“Y/N—“

“Please…we don’t know what could happen further. I…ugh. I wasn’t thinking either” She started to tear up feeling Siddiq’s hand gently brush them away.

“What happened isn’t your fault. We are going to find whoever tampered with the pantry and they will receive consequences. For now just let the sedative work while Daryl gets what we need” Siddiq reassures her fixing the blanket to cover her more as she was shivering but the fever was also still presented.

Carol was notified of Daryl’s arrival from Rick who was updated on Y/N’s condition from Siddiq. She had what he needed at the ready but when he arrived there was much more on his mind and she knew that it was her time to shine.

“Daryl. Don’t you dare”

“I just fucking got here”

“Yeah but you’re taking the blame for something you didn’t even do.”

“She got poisoned. In fucking Alexandria. A place we thought after the war they wouldn’t fuck with. But no that was delusional thinking…” Daryl scoffs opening his pack as Carol packed up what he came to grab. “I could’ve—-“

“Daryl. Stop it” Carol snaps to get himself out of that headspace. “Anything could’ve happened to anybody. It’s a terrible way of thinking that it’s good someone had this happen so that we can get the person who’s tampering with the supply. Now you better get back so she can use this.”

“I read the note. What you wrote under the list”

Carol softens, still keeping a sense of sternness in her expression. “Do you have any idea how badly she would’ve felt if it was you in her shoes? I know you would’ve rather had your place swapped with hers…but she would be just as self destructive. Now go”

When Daryl returned Y/N was situated in the clothes he grabbed for her, an IV for fluids, and a few loose bandages on the rashes that got terrible. She turned her head when she heard the door open tiredly smiling at Daryl watching him as he made his way to her side opening the bottle of the activated charcoal.

The archer almost stopped what he was doing to help her sit up when he watched her struggle a bit given all of her energy depleted.

“What’s that”

“The charcoal shit Siddiq wants you to take”

“Mmm…for what again?” There’s a fuckton of symptoms for someone who was poisoned. Just be glad it’s mental confusion and not yknow a seizure or coma.

Daryl frowns opening her hand and placing the tablets, the required amount, in her hand watching her stare at them for a bit while he grabbed the water from the bedside table. Y/N took the tablets drinking shortly after, giving the glass back to Daryl. He kept his eyes glued on her every move in case something more were to happen but all she really did after taking the tablets were lick her lips and bring her fingers to them.

“Shit…vomitting really dries out your lips somehow…” Y/N scoffs hanging her head down. “I look how I feel huh?”

“You look beautiful” Daryl said as if it were fact and that brought a bit of a heated hue on Y/N’s face while his were set on the tips of his ears. He reached into the inside his vest pocket (something he installed himself) to take out a silver circular tin and giving it to her.

Y/N hasn’t even opened it yet as she was smiling the second he took it out. She knew it was the lip balm she gotten him that she thought he had thrown out.

“Thanks…” She expresses after handing it back once she used it on her lips.

“Mhm. I gotta…tell Siddiq you got the tablets. He’ll instruct yea if you need more” Daryl stated watching her nod along to what he was saying. “I want to check in with Rick about the pantry shit. I’ll be back after” as he started to get up and make his way toward the door he heard a bit of a soft gasp escape her that when he looked at Y/N she averted her gaze grabbing fistfuls of the blanket. “What is it?”

“I…Do you mind…”

Daryl frowns looking at her confused bringing himself back to her bed and checking her person in case she was trying to bring up any pain she was in.

“Y/N?”

“Can you just…stay with me?” Y/N whispers keeping her gaze down. She felt a shift in the bed lifting her gaze with a hint of a smile.

“Yeah, I can do that” Daryl returns the smallest smile, gently tucking a stray hair behind her ear and letting her lean against him.

Until eventually, Siddiq came to check on her finding Daryl holding her close rubbing circles on her back as she slept. She was making a turn for the better and Daryl was keeping an eye on her.

Like always.

#cultofdixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

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deltaromeo3 · 1 year

Text

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎..? ⋆ Charles Leclerc

requested by: this ask!

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: in which the reader does not recognise the famous Monegasque Formula 1 driver; the very same one that was about to change her perspective on the sport and also her life.

↪ you can find part 2 &3 here! : #2 #3

“You should really watch where you’re walking.”

You were out grocery shopping in Monte-Carlo, peacefully minding your own business when suddenly someone bumped into you. You turned to tell them off but before you could say anything the stranger immediately apologised.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” The man asks, holding your sides.

You were taken aback when you were met with a pair of green eyes staring right at you, awaiting a response. Further behind him stood a small group of people, one of which was holding a camera.

You figured he was famous, but you had no idea who this guy was. Clueless. But he was good-looking tho. Good lord.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. No worries.” You smile softly at him and he smiles back at you. You returned to picking out your groceries but in the background you heard him talking to what you assumed was his camera crew.

“Aw cmon, it’ll be fun!” Emma says, trying to persuade you to come with her to the Monaco Grand Prix.

Her cousin had bailed last minute and Emma quickly took this chance to ask you instead. You had taken no interest in the sport but she didn’t want to waste her tickets; especially if they were paddock passes.

You groaned, “Ugh, okay okay. Just this once.”

Emma jumps with joy, “Really?!” You nod and she squeals, “I’m so excited!”

The both of you took your seats. Emma was donned in Ferrari merch and she insisted you wore one too.. you reluctantly agreed.

You sat down, the cars now lined up doing their formation lap. You had no idea which drivers were in what teams, but you were happy to be here (because of the free food) with Emma by your side.

“Ooh, there he is. My favourite driver.” She points to the red Ferrari car with the number 16 on the front of the car. You just nodded in response.

The race finally ends, the both of you were walking home. Emma was rambling on about the race and her favourite driver but you were looking down at your phone, not caring about what she was saying when suddenly you made impact with someone.

“What the hell Em-“

“I’m so sor- eh, it’s you!”

You were met with a familiar set of green eyes.

“M-me?” You point to yourself as you stood frozen, confused.

“Yeah! The girl from the supermarket! Remember me?” He asks. You tried to recall back to the time at the supermarket.

“Oh yeah, I remember.”

Oh. You again.

He lets go of your sides and you say, “You should really watch where you’re walking.”

He laughs, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, I really should. Oh, a Ferrari fan I see. Enjoyed the race?” He asks.

“Mm, I really didn’t pay much attention to it. But number 16 did so well though.”

“Oh really? Well, thank you.”

“Thank you? Wha-“

“Hi! Hi, my name is Emma! Nice to meet you. I’m such a big fan.” Your friend interjects, shaking Charles’ hand.

Such a big fan? Who is this guy?

“I’m so sorry, I think my friend here hit her head. She doesn’t seem to recognise who you are.”

“Well yeah, who is he? Please, enlighten me.”

Your friend turns her head, shooting you a glare. “What? Don’t look at me like that! I really don’t know.”

“I’m Charles. Charles Leclerc. The guy who drives the number 16 car.” He extends his hand, waiting for you to shake it.

“Oh! You’re Charles! Yeah, Emma is right. She’s a big fan. Won’t stop talking about you. Anyways, congratulations on your win!”

“Thank you.” He smiles “And you?” He asks.

“I… don’t really watch F1.”

“And by don’t really she meant not at all. She came because of the free food.” Your friend interrupts.

Charles chuckles. “Well it was nice meeting you…”

“Y/N.” You replied

“And you too Emma.”

He walks over to his car. A 488 Pista.

You only took a few steps in-front when suddenly he calls you out.

“Hey! Want me to send you two home?” He says as he drives, the speed of the car matching your walking pace.

You looked over to Emma. You could’ve sworn she was gleaming.

“I’m good, and your car can only fit one more person. Emma, what about you?”

She hesitantly shakes her head.

“Okay!” was all he said before he drove off, revving the car as he drove off.

“I’m going to kill you,” Emma spoke.

“What?”

“I can’t believe you just said no to a once in a lifetime offer; a ride in Charles goddamn Leclerc’s car.”

“Well you should’ve said yes!”

“Not without you! And shit!”

“What now!”

“I forgot to ask him for a goddamn photo!”

You laughed. “Next time then.”

A/N: ahhh my first ask… I know this isnt what you asked for (or kind of.. along the lines?) but I hope you still enjoyed it <3 thank you for requesting! should i make a part two?🫣

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 one shot #f1 imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #and you are..?

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silv3rswirls · 1 month

Text

Hound

Summary: What did a suffering lamb even accomplish? Who did it save, when would it end?

Warnings: serial killer/yandere jk, kidnapping, stalking, references to death, suggestive scenes, delusions, religious themes/trauma, minor description of sick/rotting bodies/animals, murder, reader goes on a weird little adventure with killer jk?? She dies at the end

Note: idk I kind of lost the original plot of this one and this is what it turned out to be. Please mind the warnings and as always, hope ya’ll like it. ALSO, I didn't have it in me to edit this, so mind that. I might come back to this

There’s something in the corner; watching. It’s been there so long, you couldn’t remember when it invited itself in. It’s starving and sickly, black fur clinging to bones and eyes droopy and white. You stopped feeding it a long time ago, but still, it lingers. In every facet of your life, it lingers. You’ve lived like this for so many years, have you always lived like this?

What time was it?

Your eyes shifted from their fixed position on the wall to the clock, passing over the thin, gold cross mounted just beside it. Your eyes strained to read it against your bedroom's dark wood panels and dim, ugly yellow light. Whatever time it was, you knew it was time to get out of bed and start dinner before your husband got home from work. You make your way to the kitchen, the house dims now that the sun has set. You avoid flicking many lights on, it’ll save money your husband insisted. You hated fumbling around a dark house but had given up arguing with him a long time ago.

You peek through the sheer curtains, the sink running and steaming water burning your hands as you finish that morning's dishes. It was dark, and windy as the tree in your front yard shook and branches brushed against the roof. It was the cusp of winter, very cold but snow hadn’t started to fall yet. The neighborhood was quiet, street lamps harsh against the dark backdrop of houses. You stare hard outside, it's there. Standing there, watching you. That sick dog, with hackles raised and tongue hanging from its mouth.

The curtains fall back into place as you turn the water off and dry your hands. You pass the phone, that’s been ringing for the past five minutes. You don’t answer because it's just your parents again, all they wanted was to guilt you into going to church with them on Sunday morning. They went every day, once upon a time you had gone as well, but now you could only stand to give them Sundays. Last week you had pretended to be sick to get out of it, your husband went along and you were sure he spent most of the day badmouthing and complaining about you not coming.

The last time you found yourself in a church you were standing at an altar listening to a man feed the room empty vows. You stood stiff, draped in satin, with eyes downcast. This is what everyone wanted; this is what you wanted. What a waste, as he fumbled the paper with his crudely written vows. What a waste of a man who couldn’t memorize a few short promises. What a waste of a man who couldn’t stand there and pretend to be in love with you, to dare to call himself righteous, the perfect match to keep their daughter in line with a faith you had stopped believing years ago.

You didn’t want to get married. You had stopped liking the fantasy of having a husband years ago, and around the same time, you began to feel a sour taste over your parents' religion. What happened to you? What happened to our beautiful girl? They would ask, more so plead with you for answers. Truthfully, you had stopped believing in god. It was restricting; days to weeks to months to years. It was always the same. The same scripture, the same ravings of the pastor that drove such fear of doing anything wrong into you, leaving holes in your body that oozed with guilt and shame; you didn’t know why.

You had begged god to save you, even after all the terrible things he must’ve seen you do. Still, on the morning of your wedding and every day after that, you begged. Knelt until your knees were raw and aching, your hands clasped so tight until your nails pricked your aching skin and drew blood. You begged, for something, anything, you weren’t even sure what anymore. But nothing ever changed. When would god find time for you again? You live, you do as you’re told. You do everything you’re supposed to, and yet nothing. You live how you’re told. You grow, you work, you’re a wife. You follow and you ignore the hound scratching at your walls. You’ll die soon, you can feel it. When will he come back to you?

That night you refused to go inside, letting your feet go numb buried in snow in the backyard. Looking into the treeline, you’d rather be fed by the creatures lurking there than by some angry boy playing dog inside. You wanted to hurt him, for him to feel how you had the past year. He didn’t think you could, but you wanted to show him you would.

But when you looked down at your trembling hands, stiff and half frozen from the cold, you knew there was no way you could show him. How you felt and how you acted were two different things; forever separate as much as you wanted them to be the same. You could talk a big game, think about how so badly you wanted to hurt him, and that was all. It had to keep being enough.

Something in you wanted more, so much more. You could rest because of it. You had stopped fighting your parents now, you were hoping things could change. Maybe you’d find peace again, though you weren’t sure how. You grew weary, tired of hating god and resenting your parents. You wanted so badly to be separate from it all. To no longer have a feeling of guilt hounding you. To no longer hate the church and everyone in it, the teachings and echoes of preaching lingering in your mind. The years you lost there; lost to fear and manipulation. How you hadn’t been able to enjoy a single thing in your adolescence. How after your first kiss you had gone home and sobbed until throwing up. As you were on your knees cleaning it up, trying to hush your cries to not wake your parents, you closed your eyes and pleaded between gasps and hiccups for god not to hate you. How you trembled and sat there until your skin was rubbed raw against the carpet,

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face and looking around the dark living room from the kitchen. You felt like you could see it; that creature lying on the sofa staring at you. Mouth parted, teeth pointed, its soul-bearing into your own. You turned away with the familiar feeling of guilt washing over your body. Your gaze rested on the floor, but the faint outline of shoes made your brow furrow; your husband wasn’t due home for another hour. Very slowly you pick your gaze up to see the man standing in the hall. Faint light from the open backdoor pooled in behind him. You stared at the young man longer than probably should have. Maybe you should've screamed sooner and ran before he got that close to you but you had frozen in place.

Break-ins didn’t happen around your neighborhood, let alone kidnappings.

What horrible luck that you’d be the first?

What had you done? What had you done to deserve this?

He carried you out of your house, but still, you couldn’t bring it in you to scream for help. You wondered deep down if anyone would help you. He puts you in the back of his car and drives, the windows down and bitter cold pouring in. You’re lying in the backseat, wrists bound tight. He’d been eerily silent through this whole ordeal.

“How come you haven’t begged me not to kill you yet?” He asked, looking back at you. His voice came jumbling from his mouth fast, a bit irritated. Like he had been frustrated with your lack of struggle.

“Were you going to kill me?” Your skin crawls with goosebumps from the cold.

He pauses and stares at you, “Do you want me to kill you?” He turns back to watch the road, neither of you answering his question. A long stretch of silence follows, he doesn’t look at you again, not even a glance from the mirror. “I’ve been watching you for a long time. I’m going to give you what you want, and then I’m going to kill you.”

You’re throat dries and your face pales. “You don’t know what I want.” Watching you? You felt an uneasiness come over you as you thought back to what you had done the past few weeks. Nothing to be honest. You had barely left the house. You imagined him peeking through windows, hiding in the yard, and watching you collect groceries and throw the trash away. Had he been in your house before? You look at him, he didn’t seem familiar at all. You’d never seen him around before.

He dragged you from the car, you didn’t struggle but you remained limp, dead weight for him as he covered your eyes and drug you inside. When inside you feel his boot on you, pressing into your shoulder. Pressing into you, your eyes trail over the shine of leather and then up to him. He was standing above you. Taller, stronger, better than you; that's what he wanted right? You’d stare at him, was this what you wanted?

The house was messy, recently abandoned you assumed. It was clear he had been holding up here for a while. He shoved you on the ground, circling around you as you looked up at him. “What are you going to do?” You ask.

“Gonna kill you.” He admitted earnestly. “I know you, I’ve been watching you for a long time- really, I’m just helping you.”

Was he your savior? Was he doing you a favor? Would he do to you what you had never been brave enough to do yourself? Is this what you truly were? An animal built to serve? To be depraved, to crawl across glass and pour blood for someone like him?

“But I…I don’t want to die.” He gives you this pitiful look; his lips pout and his eyes soften for a moment. As if telling you you didn’t know what you were talking about, and how pitiful it was you couldn’t accept it. “What’s your name?” You ask, feeling silly for being hopeful you might be able to get any information out of him. “Jungkook.” You lower your head, wondering if trying to collect any information for authorities was even worth it. Everything about this man was intimidating. He was larger and stronger, it didn’t matter if you fought or not he could drag you around like a ragdoll all he wanted.

Jungkook gets up and walks around the living room, rummaging through piles of what you assumed were his things. “I’ve been watching you for over a year now.” He admits, “Since you went on vacation for your friend's birthday. You were so drunk at that bar, I was going to kill you then, but something told me not to.” He turns back to you with a small bound notebook in hand. “So I followed you back here and got to know you more. Imagine my shock when I realized you were getting married. Was that trip your last night of freedom, is that why you got so messy?” You stare up at him, unsure of what to say. Yes, it was your last night. You came home and your parents pushed you into marriage sooner because of it. He hands you to the notebook, urging you to open it. “I’ve been watching you since. Your life turned out to be so interesting, I couldn’t just kill you after everything.”

You flip through the pages slowly. Pictures of you and your family. Pictures of you at the altar. Scribbled paragraphs about things he heard others say about you, quotes of things you were sure you had said. Notes and bullet points of every piece of information he got. “So, what do you want to do first?”

“Can I take a bath?” You ask, mind going a bit blank and voice flat as you set the notebook down and try to take it all in.

He let you. The water was hot and steaming when he pushed you in and closed the door. No windows, no way to get out. You settle into the water, the sweat from stress and anxiety washing off as you try and fail to relax. Could you be forgiven for things not of your control? You sink further into the water. You could hear him outside in the hall pacing. His steps were heavy and loud, ringing in your ears as you stared up at the night, fluorescent bathroom light. They did this to you, they all did this to you. Why were you being punished? Why had Jungkook laid eyes on the most pitiful woman in town and decided it was to be her? You thought about your wedding day, and your husband back home. Maybe if you had just settled, stayed with them, and did your duty as a wife Jungkook wouldn’t have stumbled into your life. Yes. you should have wanted less, you decide. Because it seems Jungkook was ready to give it all to you.

You raise your hands out of the water, the deep imprints of the zip ties he had kept you bound with were still there. Angry and a pale red color. The bathwater around you, swirling unpleasantly around you. The hot, humid air inside the bathroom, the hum of the lights, and the moths flying around them.

You felt rotten like your teeth were falling out, hanging just barely to your gums. Truly, you felt disgusting.

Jungkook is in the hall waiting when you finally get out. You looked up at him and saw nothing. No starving dog trying to pretend. No confusion, or games, or lies. He knew what he wanted to be and he was exactly that. He wasn’t lying, pretending, or trying to make you believe his actions were right. He said it outright; he wanted to kill you. He was going to kill you.

“I want my wedding dress” you slowly say.

“You don’t like the one you wore at your wedding, you cried the day you tried it on.” Jungkook glances at you, watching you silently agree with him.

“So you won't get it for me?”

“Don’t you want more?” He asks, “I’ll get you a new dress, whatever one you want.”

Jungkook stares at you the same way the beast that lingered in the corners of your house did. An eager stare, unrelenting, you couldn’t move out of its sight. “I just want that dress.” You repeat, clasping your hands together and pursing your lips, “You said I could have whatever I wanted…”

A smile stretched his lips, “I’ll get it for you.”

You lay down on the floor of the backseat of the car. Your hands are zip-tied again, and you can’t see Jungkook from your position. What an odd turn of events to say the least…you had fully expected to die the moment he dragged you out of the car and into that house, but now you could see faint glimpses of familiar landmarks leading to your neighborhood from what you can make out from the window. You think about the day of your wedding, and the events that even led up to your parents making a match for you and pushing for it so hard. Despite how vocal you had been about your unhappiness with everything about your childhood, how much you never wanted to step food into their church again; they held a firm belief that you’d come crawling back. If they shamed and argued and pushed enough you’d come back.

For as much hate you felt, twice the amount of guilt weighed you down. After a while, it all became so hopeless. It was exhausting. It made you sick, you couldn’t do anything without guilt nipping your heels, chasing you down until you drowned in it. You couldn’t live, so you came home. Let them talk you into marriage because it would fix everything, they insisted. You just needed a husband, the stability of it, someone to care about other than yourself. Have a few kids and you’ll start walking the right path again.

You waited, but it never came. You never felt better about any of your choices. Deep down you had known you wouldn’t, but you had spent so much of your life blind. Going back to it didn’t help, it wasn’t even familiar anymore. Nothing ever changed. When will God find time for you again? You live, you do as you’re told. You do everything you’re supposed to, and yet nothing. You live how you’re told. You grow, you work, you’re a wife. You follow and you ignore the hound scratching at your walls. You’ll die soon, you can feel it. When will he come back to you?

You weren’t even sure why you wanted that stupid dress. You weren’t sure if you cared what happened to you, or feared what Jungkook was going to do. Maybe it is comforting, in a weird way. No one paid attention to you, no one bothered with you. They wouldn’t until you changed, and deep down you didn’t want to change. But outside of your life now you had no idea what you would do. You never had higher dreams than staying local and marrying within your church growing up. You didn’t even attend college. You never aspired for more, now it felt like it was too late. Jungkook was talking to you from the driver's seat but you couldn’t hear him. Too enveloped in your head to focus on him, he was spouting things he had found about you the last year or so. How he’d never felt a need to stalk the people went after before, let alone this in depth. It was “life-altering” and you were going to be special to him.

The car stops and you feel a weight on your body; the canine-like creature is standing over you. Paws pressing to your stomach and legs, its breath hot, its ears perked up as Jungkook gets out of the car. You feel an immense guilt weighted on you and you consider stopping Jungkook and telling him to just leave and kill you.

You didn’t want this. You did want this. You weren’t sure. Your husband was home, he wasn’t going to just let Jungkook in to take what he wanted.

You lay there for what felt like an eternity until he came back, opening the back door and pulling you out of the car. It’s still dark out, chilly, and unmoving as he hooks his arms under yours and drags you back inside. He sits you down in the entryway and locks the door. You look around. “Where’s-”

“Don’t worry about him.” Jungkook shows your husband's wedding band now on his hand. “Come one” he scoffs, “you knew what I was going to do.”

You stare at him, glance and the very faint outline of the body on your kitchen floor. Had you known? You feel a bit sick, deep down you had hoped for it. He leaves you there to find the wedding dress. Jungkook smiles at you one more time before going towards the back bedroom.

When Jungkook saw you, he had every intention of following you out of that bar to kill you. It was his typical hunting ground. Every few months when the desire struck him again he would wait patiently for the right girl to cross his path. You were hard to ignore that night; annoying, he had half a mind to kill you just to shut you up. But when he followed you outside, watching you slump against the wall and fiddle with your phone he took a moment to watch. Turning away and nursing a cigarette on the opposite side of the entryway.

The way you sniffled and cried on the phone with your mom, asking if there was any other way than to get married. You were too drunk to give him a coherent story of what you were going through, but apparently, you just hated the dress and the groom so much. He crept closer as you hung up, making some lighthearted comment about how rough you looked, and offered you a cigarette.

You talked a bit more about your ass of a fiance and how you felt like you had no other options anymore. He asked where you were from and you told him. He left you there once your friend found you and would see you again a month later. He’d been crammed in his car for days, a map of the town and surrounding forests resting on his steering wheel as he scribbled out the last few leads he had gotten on where exactly you lived. he looked up and there you were, walking with a group of older women into a boutique down the street, exiting with a pretty wrapped box a bit later. He followed you home, and everywhere after that. Watched you walk down the aisle, the wedding open to all members of the church, and allowing him to walk right in. he watched you go home and cry in the backyard, watched you talk your dress off through the window, watched your husband fuck you for the first time. He watched you sit restless every day after that.

Jungkook found your dress backed away in that same ornate gift box on the top shelf of your closet. He smiled and smoothed a hand over the box. All he knew was that he wanted you, wanted to make you happy, and then he wanted to kill you. Put you out of your misery. You’d be better off, he told himself. Clearly, you needed to be saved, so he’d kill for a better reason this time.

You were crying when he came back. Looking up at him with red, water eyes and pressing your lips together to try and keep quiet. Jungkook set the box beside you, kneeling in front of you and tilting his head. But all you can see before you is that beast, sitting with flattened ears and tongue hanging from between rotting teeth. Staring at you with those eyes, like they were reflecting everything upsetting right back to you.

“All this guilt, there’s no use feeling it.”

“I can’t help it.” You choke out. “I can’t stop it, I see it- feel it everywhere.” You rubbed your eyes, looking at Jungkook and trying to stop your trembling bottom lip.

“Crying won’t won’t make things different. Just because you’re guilty won’t make this better. Your guilt won’t purify you.” He clicks his tongue, reaching to push your hair out of your face. “You wanted me to kill your husband, and that’s okay.”

“Thank god, the psycho thinks everything is alright. How comforting.” You weep.

“Stop holding back, come on. You want things to change, doesn’t matter how they change right? You hated him, I heard you say it myself so many times. Say it.”

“I wanted him to die.” You admit quietly. Something in you wanted this to happen. Asking Jungkook to come back here, a part of you knew the possibility. “It’s just not fair. It's not fair. I’ve done nothing but what I’m supposed to do. My whole life, I’ve been trying so hard my whole life to be what I’m supposed to be, but I don’t understand. Everything was supposed to be better, but I hated him. I hated him so much. Then you got here and I…I just wanted to feel all the pain that he’s caused, but I can’t even stomach it. I wanna be cruel, don’t I deserve to? I can’t stop crying though.”

Jungkook coos, pulling you into the chest and wrapping his arms around you. “Baby, there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s why I’m here, I want you to let go, want you to just do what you want. I watch you every day. You’re so miserable, it’s so weird. I felt bad for you.” Jungkook muses, “I’m here for you now baby, we only have a few hours left though.”

“Can I put the dress on?” Your voice was low and tired. Jungkook nodded, shifting over to take the box's lid off and peel back the tissue paper wrapped around your wedding dress. He takes it out, unraveling it carefully as you watch.

Your wedding had been a disaster. You cried through most of it, though no one seemed to care at the time. Your late husband was glad just to have a woman to take home. He wasn’t romantic at all, nothing about him attracted you to him. He was one of the slimier men you had come across in your time in the congregation. He interpreted things how he wanted to, and often reminded you of all the things in your life you had done wrong and had yet to be forgiven for. This was the man your parents hoped to whip you back into shape. It worked in a sense, you supposed. You had been forced to settle. Your hate faded each dull day that passed, you grew weary and unhappier.

The dress was modest. Long-sleeved, high neckline, mane with heavy ugly satin. You put it on there in the hall, feeling too numb to worry about any shame you had in front of Jungkook anymore. He zipped it up for you. Jungkook was kneeling, fixing the skirt, and letting it fluff out. He smooths it down and looks up at you. Despite the heavy eyes and tear-stricken face he smiled, “You look pretty.”

No one told you that on your wedding day, no one told you that the day your mother chose the dress for you. You smiled, feeling a small ounce of joy for the first time tonight. “What do you want to do now?”

You ignore his question, “Is that why you’re doing all of this, are you obsessed with me or something?”

“I guess in some sick way I am.” He wanted to kill you, but at the same time, you were the prettiest girl he’d seen in a long time. Something about the repressed guilt and how you teetered on the edge of breaking completely just got him he supposed. “I watched you the night of your wedding, you were so perfect. Everything was perfect until he came in.” He scowls at the thought, “It’s a shame.”

“Do you want to…” you trailed off, your voice a bit nervous.

Jungkook’s fingers twitch, he's playing with the trim of your skirt. “I do” he murmured, “I’ve thought about you every night since I met you” He raves, “you’re the only one- why? Why do you make me so crazy?” He asks, brushing off any answer you try to give him. “Want you, need you” He breathed, the fabric of your wedding dress bunching up as he pulled at it.

“I can’t-” you grabbed at his hands. You could feel it, the guilt creeping in. Your eyes land on your wedding ring. Torn with morbid want and a last shred of gut-wrenching guilt, you looked into his eyes. Tempting dark pools stare back at you he grabs at your hand. “We’ve come so far already, don’t stop now. Besides” he makes it a point to flash your late husband's wedding band. “I’m your husband now.” you flush, the words twisting in your ears are wrong; everything about tonight was wrong. It felt like a dream more than reality.

“I know you think I’m attractive” he pushes through the layers of the dress, his hands cold as he rests them on your thighs. “It’s so wrong of you baby” he purrs, “you know I’m gonna kill you, but you want me don’t you?”

“I know” you whimper, chest heaving as you watch him. His fingers trace against your skin, his hand moving between your legs.

“When’s the last time your husband touched you?” He asks, “This is what you want, right? You want someone to want you?”

Your fingers twist in his hair, gripping tight as if you were about to fall. Your legs trembled under the weight of guilt and need over what was happening. He was right though, it had been a long time since you felt wanted at all. The moment you had sex the first time those years ago, you knew no one would want you. Not in the church, not here. Impure, a whore. Your mother had even said it when you sobbed and told her.

Your back arches, your thighs tremble, and you let your grip on his hair loosen. You fear toppling over, your breathing a bit ragged. You felt his lips trace your inner thigh, leaving half-hearted kisses and sinking his teeth into your skin.

“You look so pretty in your dress.” Jungkook reappears, kneeling before you a minute longer. Fixing the skirt of the dress, smoothing the fabric down then reaching for your hand. He traces the wedding ring a few times.

“Where do you want me to do it?” Jungkook’s question falls on deaf ears. You’re sitting in the passenger side of his car, still wearing a dress and still trying to steady your pounding heart.

Where did you want to die?

Did you want to die?

You were scared of living as much as dying; but was there anything left for you anyways?

Jungkook you supposed, there was a weird want for him. Maybe it was messed up, he was into you. He took all this time to watch you and wanted you to be happy before you died. You weren’t sure if you were happy.

Before you got out of high school the town church moved to a new building. A bigger, newer, and nicer one. The old one was small, typical of what you would imagine a small, secluded town’s church would look like. He took you there, unprompted. It was fitting maybe. You walked in front of him and listened to Jungkook load the gun and mutter under his breath. Once inside you stand in place, waiting for him to turn and shoot. You look around the familiar space, your stomach turning, memories of the past playing in your mind.

The cross mounted above you is entrancing, draped in sheer black fabric, and its shadowy outline is stark against the moon's light. Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook, who seems to have caught onto your staring and also happens to stand before you draped in the moonlight.

Your last moments would be here. Everything around you felt distorted, and unreal as you looked around another time.

Staining his hands red and tearing into something clean was all he was. All he wanted. You were both ugly in a sense, he was just more open about it. You look up at him. It’s scary now. You had known what was going to happen from the moment he took you. You knew. You knew he wouldn’t give you a happy ending, only give you a temporary release from everything. He killed your husband, it made you happy. He let you prance around in a wedding dress and pretend one last time you could do it all again. He played well with you, you had been able to push aside the dark truth of your situation for a time. But now he was standing before you, reveling in some kind of glory of it all. Did glory taste different to him? You couldn’t imagine- but was letting him kill that man no different than this? In a way, you had killed your husband, was this all some kind of long, drawn-out punishment for that? For lifelong confusion and defiance?

You hoped someone would find you when you were. Find your carcass and see, understand that you had been, still were, always being ripped open. Torn to pieces and dragged to muddy waters, you hoped they’d know you hadn’t been scared, maybe even welcomed it. Let them know this was love; in some twisted way. Love from Jungkook, or god sending him your way. You stopped believing in god a long time ago, grappled with it for so long, but you hoped he had loved you; at least once. Make the struggle worth it, prove you wrong. Or maybe it was love from yourself for closing your eyes and accepting it.

Please, let this be love. Let your body be stained with love for once.

taglist: @aft3rhrs

#bts x reader #bts imagine #yandere bts #yandere jeon jungkook #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook imagine

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pastanest · 9 months

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George Weasley x she/her Hufflepuff!reader

A/N: recovered by the lovely @paintyourviolence !! thank you so much! ♡ if you’re wondering why I’ve had to repost this imagine, please check out this post

Would You Be So Kind

It truly isnt fair. It hasnt been for years. To be precise, you have been living an unjustifiably cruel life for the past four years, almost to the day.

You remember it like it was yesterday; the excitement bubbling in you as the train travelled closer and closer to your new school, your school for magic. The very kind Harry Potter had given you a seat in his carriage, alongside another boy who you came to know as Ron Weasley. It was their first year, too, and they were both as excited as you were, but unlike you, they could verbalise their excitement and hold actual conversations. Meanwhile, you sat and watched the world blur by through the windows on the other side of the carriage door, since both boys were situated by the carriage window. As the snack trolley arrived, and the sweet old lady asked if any of you would be buying anything, there was a steady thudding down the train, growing louder as it neared; until two taller red-headed boys almost ran directly into the trolley. Upon being stopped, they smiled at Ron through the door.

“Just our luck, we’ve only ended up by Ron’s carriage!” One of the twins teased, laughing.

The other twin chuckled along with his brother, then gestured to Harry. “Go on then, introduce us to your new friends!”

Ron sighed dramatically. “Harry Potter.”

The first twin that had spoken, Fred, raised his eyebrows. “Blimey!”

Harry waved politely. “Hello!”

The second twin that had spoken, George, smiled at you kindly.

“And who’s this?”

You realised he was looking to you for an answer to that question, and considering the question was only asking your name, it seemed a reasonable one to ask you, but at that exact moment you discovered that you could not speak.

“That’s (Y/N).” Ron answered for you, much to your relief, but the embarrassment had already set in, and you avoided everyone’s eyes, choosing instead to stare down at your lap.

George Weasley squeezed between the trolley and the carriage door partially, leaning just slightly closer to you.

“Hey, dont worry, everyone’s nervous on their first day. It’ll all feel normal in no time!” He encouraged sweetly, a gesture that was completely unnecessary in the circumstance of you two still being strangers, but when you lifted your head and met the genuine smile on George Weasley’s face, your heart seemed to recognise him.

In the four years that have passed since that day, your interactions with George have been minimal. You couldn’t help feeling gutted when the sorting hat sent you to the Hufflepuff table. Though you realised almost immediately that it was where you belonged, it put a further rift between you and the boy that already felt a million miles away with the two year age gap alone. Thankfully, despite being restricted to a different common room, you did have regular classes with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and the most intelligent person you’d ever met: Hermione Granger. The three of them being in a different house didn’t seem to deter them from maintaining their friendship with you, and although you do have friends in your own house by now, you still frequently enjoy the company of the Golden Trio. And on a few, precious, perfect occasions, being with them has caused you to cross paths with George Weasley.

Especially in your first year, during which you and Hermione spent almost every free period in the library. It wasn’t guaranteed, but the possibility of a teacher sending Fred and George to fetch a particular book from the library was a decently common occurrence. You had never known a teacher to not have a book they needed already in their classroom, but upon asking Ron about it, he said his older brothers likely went into classrooms beforehand to steal books and put them in the library in order to have an excuse to leave lessons. This rebellious streak made George all the more appealing to you, unfortunately. But it wasnt merely the reason for their visits to the library that worsened your symptoms; every single time Fred and George wandered into the library, George would spot you and give you that same genuine smile. And every single time, you would smile back, completely flustered. So flustered in fact, that you had been known to drop the library books you were carrying to yours and Hermione’s chosen table, or you would trip over your own feet and Hermione would rush over to help you, while George gave you a worried expression that you treasured, followed by the question of whether you were alright.

“Always the clutz!” You would say, making him laugh.

Eventually, it happened enough times for him to make that comment before you could.

Obviously, witnessing those interactions in first year meant Hermione was completely clued in on your crush. Back then, it felt very childish to even consider the possibility of him having any interest in you, because you quite literally were a child, not even a teenager yet, like he was. And as children often do, you expected to grow out of your childhood crush. But much to your dismay, George Weasley would not allow that.

The older you got, the more comfortable you got with casually bumping into the Weasley twins, always saying hello to George and then Fred in order to try and hint that you were in love with him. It didnt work, but you kept trying.

You’d wave at them in passing, exchange small talk on occasion, and George would always give you that same smile. Ever since second year, when he and Fred arrived back at Hogwarts having had an extreme growth spurt, that smile would look down at you, and that only made things worse. Especially when that growth spurt didn’t seem to stop, and George’s smile kept lifting further and further out of your reach. And let’s not forget your third year, when George grew his hair out to frame that smile high above you. A masterpiece that was definitely worth framing, you thought. Honestly, if he had kept his hair that long, you dont know if you would have survived.

By now, your Hufflepuff friends as well as the Golden Trio are all too aware of your crush on George Weasley. Ron, in particular, loves to tease you about it. When Hermione gave you the password to the Gryffindor common room in your third year so that you could meet her in her dormitory to study, Ron had grinned cheekily.

“Something tells me (Y/N)’ll be using that password more than any of us!” He teased, and despite the fact his joke was incredibly vague in its exact meaning, you were mortified, because the twins happened to walk by at that exact moment.

“Ooh, a Hufflepuff’s got our password? Do we have a fellow rebel on our hands?” Fred wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you buried your face in your hands.

“No!” You squeaked.

George leant down to nudge you gently. “Hey, if you get caught sneaking in, just say we gave you the password.”

And again, his voice pulled you from your own embarrassment, right back to that smile.

It is honestly infuriating how kind he is to you. Even now, in fourth year, you aren’t in any way used to it, because George seems to excel in charms more and more, both inside and out of a classroom, every year. Just today, you happened to be walking across the courtyard when you spotted George totally by chance, laughing with Fred, and the sight of him so happy was distracting enough to make you trip and fall in the grass. Initially, you cursed yourself for walking without Hermione to assist you if you fell, and you scrambled onto your knees to pick up your scattered books. It was then, you felt a large hand press ever so delicately against your back.

“Always the clutz?” He had chuckled, and your heart skipped a beat simply because he remembered an inside joke from your first year.

Then, George was helping you pick up your books, and soon enough Fred ran over to help you, too. Fred took ahold of your books while George helped you back to your feet, the pair of Weasley’s towering over you, but you couldn’t look away from George.

“Thank you.” Was all you could manage as Fred passed you your books.

You saw that smile, and then you were scampering off before your heart could leap right out of your chest.

Now, you’re pacing around the Gryffindor common room while Hermione, Ron and Harry sit on one sofa, their eyes watching you as you embody your stress.

“Why the HELL does he do this?! What did I do to deserve this kind of torture!?!” You sigh, raking your fingers through your hair.

The fireplace crackles obnoxiously, setting your teeth on edge. If it wasn’t the only current source of light in the room, you would take your shoes off to stomp it out with your bare feet, it’d be less painful than - and a wonderful distraction from - thinking about George Weasley.

Ron laughs. “It’s hardly torture, (Y/N), he helped you up when you fell over.”

Your fiery gaze makes him shrink into the sofa, and Hermione elbows him in the ribs for good measure.

“It is absolutely torture for George Weasley - an infamous prankster - to show unwavering kindness to (Y/N); anyone with a crush on him would be smitten by him treating them differently to everyone else!” Hermione corrects him, and you nod at her gratefully as you continue your pacing.

“Sometimes I wish one of you would Obliviate me so I’d forget that first day on the train, and every moment with him after. It’d save me YEARS of pain! I am tired.” You groan in frustration, shaking your head.

“Well, have you tried telling him?” Harry speaks up, and you spin on your heel, staring at him like he’s insane.

“Of course she hasn’t! The lack of answers is what has made this so much worse, you simply must tell him!” Hermione pleads, and you scoff, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest as heat rises to your face.

“So, what? You think I should just waltz right up to him and say ‘Hey, George, not sure if you’re aware but I thought I’d let you know that I’m head over heels in love with you and I’d appreciate it if you could act like a total dick to me so I can get over this because there is no way in hell you feel the same way’?” You pause to laugh. “Hermione, Im gonna be honest, I think I would rather take the entire school population’s OWL’s in one sitting.” The silence that follows your words makes you frown. “What? Do you actually think I should say that to him? Are you all in deluded agreement?!”

The three of them stare at you with wide eyes.

“U-Uh, (Y/N)...” Ron utters nervously, making your stomach twist with worry.

“You might want to...turn around.” Harry finishes Ron’s sentence, and your blood runs cold.

Swallowing hard, you shake your head. “No, no I don’t think I want to turn around. Actually, I am suddenly overwhelmingly tired, hope you don’t mind Hermione but I’m going to take a quick nap in your bed right this second-“ You attempt to run past the sofa, but Hermione grabs hold of you, stopping you.

“Good thing you wont have to take all those OWL’s.” A voice says from behind you, and you have never wished harder that you had a talent for falling unconscious, or dying, on command.

The room is silent again, save for the fire still crackling away. Hermione’s arms slowly let go of you, recognising that you are as good as petrified.

“C’mon, we’d better give these two some space.” You hear Fred say, and then he’s ushering the Golden trio up the stairs, into their dormitories.

Closing your eyes, you lift your left hand to pinch your right arm as hard as you can, but to no avail. This is not a dream, and you are doomed.

“(Y/N), look at me.” George pleads, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it before.

You shake your head. “Cant.”

His voice is closer to you when he speaks up again. “Why?”

You open your eyes, focussing your gaze on the wall ahead of you. “Because I won’t be able to think straight if I do.”

And despite not being able to see him, you can hear the genuine shock in George’s voice. “I didn’t know you had it that bad…I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

You sigh, nodding slowly. “No, it’s alright, really. You were only being nice. Admittedly, you being a dick to me would have been a much kinder form of rejection than this, but at least I can say goodbye to the days of chest pains and speechlessness.”

George’s voice is even closer now. “Oh, (Y/N).” And before you can register what’s happening, George’s much larger hand has wrapped around yours and gently pulled you around to face him. “I wasn’t apologising for leading you on, because I haven’t been. I was apologising for not plucking up the courage to be honest with you sooner. If you’re looking for rejection, I’m afraid I’m not the man.”

You blink rapidly, very much struggling to wrap your head around George’s words, especially when he’s standing so close to you, holding your hand, and looking down at you like that.

“But...how? How long have you…?” The objective to ask a simple question is failed, your mind scrambled by too many things that all fall under the umbrella term of George Weasley.

“Well, I’ve noticed that you only seem to fall over, trip over, and get all shy when I’m talking to you. Even asked Ron if you act like that around anyone else, he said no.” George explains, smiling away, and you have to focus as hard as you can to not swoon right in front of him. He checked that you only acted that way around him?

“Remind me to kick Ron’s ass for not telling me you did that, but there’s a more pressing matter at hand.” You clarify, causing George to laugh as he nods.

“Agreed.”

You sigh, your gaze falling to the floor. “I know you know that I like you, but that’s not enough-“

George interrupts you, shaking his head dramatically. “I like you, (Y/N)! Im just a wuss! Wussiest Gryffindor around! Maybe I should’ve been put in Hufflepuff…”

Your head snaps up as you gasp and playfully smack George on the shoulder for his house-ist comment, making him chuckle.

“In all seriousness, though, we don’t know each other that well, but we clearly have some kind of mutual attraction to each other, and I don’t see the harm in figuring out what that means.” He suggests, shrugging casually, and your stomach flips, a beaming smile taking over your face and confirming to George that you’re onboard with his idea. “Okay, so, do you want to accompany me to the library for some studying?”

You’re about to answer when the two of you hear Hermione shouting from the room above.

“GEORGE WEASLEY, (Y/N) DESERVES MORE THAN A FIRST DATE OF STUDYING!”

Casting your gazes up to the ceiling, you both laugh, and George nods as he glances back down at you.

“She’s right.” He looks back up at the ceiling. “CAN I TAKE HER TO HOGSMEADE?”

And through the ceiling, Hermione shouts a reply. “THAT’S MORE LIKE IT!”

You and George share a laugh, and then he takes both of your hands in his. “So, would you care to accompany me to Hogsmeade, (Y/N)?”

With that same beaming smile still stretching across your face, you nod frantically. “Of course!”

George grins back at you. “Let’s go then!”

Your eyes almost fall out of your skull. “Now?”

George chuckles. “Yeah, why not?”

You nod. “Okay, give me a few minutes to get ready!”

And before he can reply, you’ve run up the stairs and into Hermione’s dormitory.

After some intensive squealing, jumping around and panicked exchanges of utter gibberish, Hermione is digging through her trunk and throwing every oversized jumper she finds at you. There isnt time for you to run back to the Hufflepuff common room, that’s acknowledged without you or Hermione needing to mention it, but you also need to wear a jumper that goes with the rest of your outfit.

A few minutes of frustratedly trying on and throwing off jumpers pass, and then there’s a light knock on the dormitory door.

“(Y/N)?” George calls, and your eyes widen.

“Just a minute!” You squeak.

George chuckles through the door. “I was just going to say that you can always wear one of my jumpers, if you cant find something of Hermione’s.”

Feeling faint all of a sudden, you sit down on Hermione’s bed, and she runs to you, grabbing your hands and giving you an excited, squealy grin. She knows as well as you do that this has been one of your dreams since first meeting George, and Hermione wastes no time in pulling you to your feet and pushing you to the door.

When you open it, George is leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face and one of the Christmas jumpers his mother has made him folded up in his hands, which he holds out to you without a word. You cant hide your elation as you stick your arms through the far-too-long sleeves and poke your head through the hole, pulling the jumper down your body until it’s practically halfway down your thighs, but the big letter ‘G’ on your stomach makes you giddy all over again.

“This is even more adorable than I imagined.” George’s voice is barely above a whisper as he stares down at you, and his shyness brings about an unprecedented confidence in you as you slip your hand in his.

“So, Hogsmeade?”

And so, what was left of the daylight was spent wandering around Hogsmeade with George Weasley. The two of you visited Honeydukes, in which George spoilt you by discretely purchasing every sweet your eyes lit up at, using up some of his portion of earnings from his and Fred’s inventions. He did so discreetly because he knew if you saw him doing it, you would have stopped him, and when he presented you with a bag of sweets that you’d unknowingly selected, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so you settled with jumping up to plant a kiss on his cheek before running into Zonko’s Joke Shop. For a few seconds, George stood outside Honeydukes with his fingertips tracing the place on his cheek where your lips had been, in utter bewilderment. And then, with a dazzling smile, he ran after you. In Zonko’s, you paid George back by purchasing him some Dungbombs, Nose-Biting Teacups, and some Sugar Quills when he was wandering around the shop with a distracted, awestruck expression. As you left, you surprised George with a small bag of gifts just like he had done for you, and in return he leant down to kiss your forehead.

In what felt like no time at all, George was walking you back to the Hufflepuff common room with an arm around your shoulders. Upon reaching the entrance, you turned to George, and you couldn’t meet his eyes; this time it wasnt because of shyness, but sadness.

“Hey, we can do this again. Tomorrow, if you like!” George squeezes your hands, giddy at the thought of spending more time with you, and effortlessly lifting your spirits just by being himself.

Smiling up at him, you nod. “That would be lovely.”

Gesturing to the long sleeves that cover your hands, which are hidden away in his, George smirks. “Keep the jumper.”

Your eyes widen, having completely forgotten that you are still wearing his jumper and therefore not even considering taking it off.

“A-Are you sure?”

George chuckles. “Of course, (Y/N). Mum makes us all a new one every year, I don’t have enough time to wear the whole collection! And, it looks better on you, anyway.”

You giggle, feeling your face heat up far more than you’re comfortable with it doing in public. “Thank you, George. I’ll treasure it.”

Your words bring a warm smile to his face. “I know.”

Then, you get an idea, and you beam. “But wait, gifts between us have previously had a price. How much does this jumper cost?”

Catching on immediately, George turns his head to the side slightly, letting go of one of your hands to tap the space on his cheek that you had previously kissed. But your idea is even better, and you shake your head mischievously.

“A jumper is more than a few sweets.” You hint, and George’s eyes widen.

“So...that means…” He trails off nervously, not wanting to make any assumptions, and you decide to answer his question without words.

Standing on your tiptoes, you let go of George’s other hand and place them both on his clothed chest, waiting patiently. Swallowing nervously, George nods.

“Right.”

And then his arms wrap around your waist, gently lifting you up just enough to reach him, and then his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, his arms holding you carefully as his lips dance against yours ever so slowly, butterflies erupting in your stomachs and fluttering around the two of you. Silent fireworks surround you, the overwhelming sensations of him enveloping you and bringing you somewhere you’ve never been, but it immediately feels like home. Pulling away from George slowly, you grin at him, and he chuckles in disbelief, gently placing you back down on the ground.

“You can have as many jumpers as you want.” George says, causing you to burst out laughing.

“Kisses come free from now on, deal?” You suggest, and George nods eagerly.

“Deal!”

Beaming at him, you take ahold of his hand one last time. “Goodnight, George.”

He surprises you by lifting your arm and leaning down to place a soft kiss against your knuckles, holding your gaze as he does.

“Until tomorrow, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.”

You watch George walk away, glancing over his shoulder every few seconds and chuckling every time he sees you still looking at him. Just before he rounds the corner, he takes the time to blow you a dramatic kiss, and you jump up to catch it with just as much dramatics, causing you both to laugh as he disappears from view, and you pass through the Hufflepuff entrance. As soon as you’re in the common room, you lean against the wall and take a deep breath with a wide smile plastered on your face, knowing with complete confidence that whatever you dream about, it will never feel as sweet as this.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #headcannon #headcannons #Spotify

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forever-rogue · 9 months

Note

A little hurt to comfort request

A wannabe groupie makes comments about rockstar!eddie girlfriend (aka reader maybe plus-size!reader) eddie ofc defends his lady. But then reader starts feeling insecure about her looks and body she thinks she isn’t good enough for him. But he reassures her that she is the only one for him.

AN | I hope this is okay! I feel like this would be me too, Eddie would be the best the best 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x PlusSized!Fem!Reader

Word Count | 4.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been no secret that you’d been dating Eddie Munson for close to a year now. The Eddie Munson. Sometimes it still felt like a dream, but then you'd wake up with him pulling you into his chest.

Life was…pretty fucking good. Or pretty fucking metal as Eddie liked to say.

You'd never thought twice about the fact that you were dating him, or rather that he had chosen you.

Not until, anyway, one night when you were at one of Corroded Coffin’s shows. It wasn’t odd for you to be there, but you usually watched from the front VIP area or remained backstage to watch everything. Today, something compelled you to go out in the thick of it all, to be with the crowd and experience it from a new angle.

You were walking in with Jeff’s wife, the two of you holding beers as you went to your seating area. A few curious glances were sent your way, almost as if the people recognized the two of you but just couldn’t quite place you. That was probably exactly what was going on; it was nice to retain some sense of anonymity.

The two of you siddled into your spots and you heard a burst of laughter coming from a few seats down. The noise was so loud and out of place that it caused you to look down the row. Much to your chagrin you found two women staring back at you, wicked smirks on their faces.

They were exactly the type of women you expected to be at a rock concert. Scantily dressed with large fake breasts, fake tans, bleached hair and too make-up. These were the type of women that you found after trying to get in with the boys. Groupies, and they were shameless about it.

You turned your attention back to Angela, but before you could fully do so, you heard a loud moo directed at you. Your breath caught in your throat as you heard them making very non-discreet and rude comments. They were directed at you, you knew that right away and they were making no point to hide it.

“Can you believe Eddie Munson is dating her?”

“She must be good at sucking dick because you know Eddie wouldn’t keep her around for anything else.”

“She’s clearly good at eating.”

“He could do so much better.”

“What a waste of space!”

“If you’re going to be a porker, you could at least try to look pretty.”

You felt tears prickling at the back of your eyes but tried to push away the feelings that were bubbling up. They were just words after all, they shouldn’t have any real effect on you, and yet…it was the worst feeling. Those girls were purposely being cruel and for no real reason. No reason other than the fact that they were jealous of the fact that you were dating Eddie.

Angela picked up on your sudden mood shift, and gently put her hand on your arm, “what’s wrong, babe?”

“Nothing,” you lied so quickly that it was clearly not true. A frown settled on her features but you shook your head, “really, it’s fine.”

You could see that she was looking past you and down the row where the two girls were standing, looking smug as can be, “was it them? Did they do something?”

“No - nothing,” you dropped your voice to what you hoped was only what she could hear so they didn’t make anything worse, “just felt a little odd for a few minutes. It’ll pass soon.”

“If you’re sure…” she was a good friend and would have done anything for you, just as you would for her. You took a sip of your beer and tried to put on what you thought would be a convincing smile.

“Of course!” you had never been more thankful for the band to come out and play. You watched the boys struck onto stage, Eddie looking every bit the showman. Your heart fluttered slightly at the sight of him, “c’mon let’s get this show started!”

It wasn't entirely enough to take your mind off everything, but at least you experienced the momentary happiness of getting Eddie on stage.

You tried to ignore the horrible girls that continued to make comments throughout the show. But it was fuckin’ hard.

Once the show ended, you allowed the crowd around you to disperse and leave, remaining behind so you could make your way backstage quietly. You really didn’t want to see or be around anyone else right now, especially not ones that were going to throw horrible comments at you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Once the crowd had thinned out, you followed Angela to the back of the stadium. At least you had the promise of getting to see Eddie soon. She was talking about something but you were only half listening. There were tons of people, girls and guys, hanging around the dressing rooms, trying to sneak their way inside. Luckily the security was good and they kept prying eyes and nosey nancies away.

The guards recognized both of you now and there wasn’t even a need to show your passes. Eddie must have somehow sensed your presence because he opened the door as soon as you were near it. His entire face lit up as soon as he saw you, the beautiful and brilliant smile making its appearance as he studied you. Before you could even say anything, his brows furrowed and eyes grew worried.

"What's wrong?" and you had to fight the fresh wave of tears that threatened to well up. He gently took your face in his hands as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

"N-nothing," you lied and he was able to see right through it. It was the soft look on his face that caused it all to be too much and the tears spilled over. Eddie's touch was nothing short of reverent as he wiped them away, "its nothing, I'm just being dumb."

"It's not nothing if it's making you feel this way," he insisted but you pulled out of his touch and ducked into his dressing room. Angela saw what was going on and walked over to Eddie, "what's going on?"

"There were girls," she explained, "sitting near us. They were making horrible and rude comments about her. Totally unnecessary and I think they really got to her."

"What the fuck-"

"Yeah," she nodded sadly, looking around to see who was hanging around. And, to no surprise at all, the girls were trying to sweet talk their way backstage. Angela grabbed his hand and pointed in their direction, "them! It was the two of them."

A furious look crossed his features as he pulled away from her. Despite the whole bad boy image, Eddie was really soft and kind. But this had brought up a while different type of emotion and Angela had never seen him so mad.

"Hey," he barked at the girls, who immediately pushed to get to him. Little did they know they were not going to like what he had to say to them. The one that had instigated everything came forward and batted her eyelashes at him.

"Hi Eddie-"

"Which one of you was talking shit about my girlfriend?" Their faces paled as they exchanged nervous looks. Eddie raised an eyebrow, "huh? Not so brave now, are we?"

"We didn't say anything mean," the other one lied, "we were just talking. She probably misunderstood."

"Bull-fucking-shit," he shook his head, curls bouncing widely, "I know your type, you're just rude to others for no reason. What did you think you were going to get out of being bitches?"

"Listen, we didn't do-"

"I know you did," he glared at them, "did you think we'd somehow break up and one of you had a chance with me? Are you that fucking stupid?"

"We didn't mean anything by it…"

"Well, that's lovely but you did what you did," he took a step back and shook his head at them, "you're never allowed at another Corroded Coffin show. I'll make sure of that. And if this ever happens and I get word of it, I won't be as nice. Clear?"

Neither of them managed to say anything, only nodding dumbly before turning around and practically running away. Eddie told his security to make sure to get their information so he could make sure they were banned from any future shows.

"You're a good man," Angela squeezed his shoulder before turning around to find Jeff.

Eddie took a deep breath before letting himself into his dressing room. His heart broke a little bit when he saw you sitting on the couch, eyes red from crying.

"Baby," he came over and sat down next to you, attempting to wrap his arm around your shoulders. You flinched out from under his touch and shook your head at him, hastily wiping away the rest of your half-dried tears. His heart ached; you’d never shied away from his touch before, “what’s wrong? Please just…tell me. Let me make it better. I talked to those girls-”

“It’s not…” you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, “it’s not just them. It’s just…me.”

“You? How is it you?’ he crossed his arms over his chest, pale skin covered in various ink, “you know I’m not going to quit asking until you tell me. I’m a stubborn bastard, you know that.”

“Look at yourself,” you gestured to him and confusion marred his features as he looked at himself. He was still sweaty, in desperate need of a post show shower, only wearing a pair of skinny jeans and his beat up sneakers. He shrugged as you huffed, “now look at me.”

He looked you over, the same look as always in his eyes. You were gorgeous and he honestly had no clue what you were going on about, “umm…baby, you’re beautiful. You know that.”

“No,” you stood up and shook your head, “I’m…fuck, Eddie, you have eyes, I’m not skinny and I don’t look like all those other girls who throw themselves at you. I’m-”

“Fuck that,” he shook his head, “so what? I love that you don’t look like any of them, I don’t want them - I want you. I love you, baby, all of you.”

“You could have someone better,” you turned your back to him and hid your face in your hands. Eddie didn’t even know how to possibly respond because you were so wrong - so wrong, “someone that looks good like you and that deserves you.”

“I don’t know how else to tell you this, but I don’t want anyone else but you,” Eddie’s hands found your shoulders as he gently turned you around, so he could properly look at you. He put a finger under your chin and turned your face up to his. He hated seeing you cry and even more he hated the idea that you could ever think so lowly of yourself. You were everything to him and he wished he could make you understand that, “only you. You’re it for me, baby.”

You knew Eddie, and you knew that he wasn’t lying to you. But it still didn’t help the feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness that was settling into the back of your mind. Instead of arguing with him or pushing the issue further all you could do was nod in response, “me too, Eddie. You’re it for me too.”

He relaxed slightly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Despite Eddie’s reassurances, the run in at his show stuck with you. You weren’t able to completely shake off the feelings that those cruel words had brought up. Despite trying to hide them and pretending that they weren’t there in order to trick yourself into letting them go, nothing worked. Instead, it just kept getting worse and worse and you found yourself drifting apart from Eddie.

You felt like you were suddenly aware of every single time someone else looked at him, or read too much into everything that was said to him. You couldn’t help but think that he deserved someone better, someone different - someone that wasn’t you. You wanted only the best for the man you loved so much.

That’s how you made the hardest decision of your life.

Eddie practically bounded to the door when he heard the silly little knock that the two of you had come up with. He wasn’t expecting you, but he was always more than happy to see you. He threw open the door, ready to wrap you up in his arms.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the somber expression on your face. You caught his eye for just a moment, looking away and staring at your feet, “h-hey.”

“What’s wrong?” of course he dove right into it; not that you could blame him. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably be doing the same thing, “baby?”

“L-listen,” you swallowed thickly, “I’m sorry to do this so late, but umm…I think - I think we should break up.”

“What?” his doe eyes grew wide as you rocked back and forth on your heels before stepping back from him. Eddie ran a hand through his dark curls, trying to rationalize why you were suddenly breaking up with him. He never once thought about the two of you breaking up; in his mind it was forever, and that’s what he had always planned on, “what are you talking about?”

“I’m breaking up with you,” your words caught in your throat and it sounded even more harsh and choked. This time you hadn’t even bothered to hold back your tears, instead they fell down your cheeks and landed onto the marble of the apartment building’s floor, “I can’t date you anymore, Eddie.”

Eddie was a smart man; it didn’t take him long to put two and two together. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his tired face, “can’t date me or won’t date me?”

“What’s the difference?” you threw up your hands in exasperation.

“You know what it is,” you groaned. You loved his tenacity but right now you just wished he’d accept what you were saying, “either way, Eddie, this is over.”

“Baby,” he tried to grab your arms but you just pulled away, “baby. Is this about what happened a few weeks ago?”

“No,” the blatant lie was obvious, “I just…I don’t want to be with you anymore.”

“Give me one good reason,” he asked, some desperation creeping into his voice despite how cool he was trying to play it, “give me one good reason why we can’t be together.”

You looked at him, squarely in the face, “I don’t love you.”

And that, those four simple words, cut deeper than anything he would have expected. He knew - or at least desperately hoped - that you were lying to him. Right? Right? The last three years you’d spent together couldn’t all have been a lie, surely. The love you said was real…it couldn’t just have been pretend. That might have actually killed him.

“That’s a lie,” he said through gritted teeth as you shrugged at him, “please, wait, I…we can talk about this and figure it out.”

“There’s nothing to figure out,” your voice was barely audible as you created an even larger distance between the two of you, “it’s done.”

Eddie watched silently as you walked towards the elevator. When you stepped inside you turned around so you could face him before pressing the button for the lobby.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing he heard you say before the doors closed, “I’m sorry.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like an eternity since you’d last seen Eddie. In reality, it had only been four months, but it felt like the longest time in your life. Every day without him felt achingly long and dreadful. The fact that he was famous and you had to see him in magazines, on TV, in advertisements and posters didn’t help. In some ways it was a small comfort getting to see him, but it also made your heart ache more for him.

You had been tempted to go to his apartment and explain and try and work it out but you stopped yourself. All of this was because of you; and now you had to live with the consequences of your actions. The fact that he was on tour again helped your dilemma slightly - he wasn’t going to be home.

Even if you were miserable, you hoped that he would be happy. He would find someone that was worthy of his love and that matched him as best as possible. Someone that wasn’t you. Maybe one day you would have your turn too…maybe.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You groaned as you heard knocking at the door. You set down your glass with a huff before pausing the movie you were watching. You’d already gotten the pizza you ordered and had no clue what this could have been. Whatever it i was, it better have been worth getting off the couch.

“Hang on,” you called out before opening the door; you didn’t even bother to look to see who it was before opening, “what?”

“Hi,” and there stood Eddie Munson. A small, tired half smile was on his face; he looked like he’d just come from a show, that similar glow on his face, “h-hi there.”

“Eddie?” you asked softly as though it wasn’t obvious that he was standing right there in your hallway. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before leaning against the doorframe in disbelief, “w-what are you doing here?”

“I was just in the neighborhood-”

“Bullshit,” you cut him off softly, “you’ve been on tour. I thought your last show was tomorrow night?”

“Still keeping track, huh?” he teased as warmth crept into your cheeks before offering him a single affirmative nod, "the last show was umm…tomorrow but I just…I wanted to see…you."

"Me?" You pointed at yourself and he nodded with a smile, "why? After everything I said and did. I was awful to you."

"It wasn't you," he stated simply, "I mean it was you but it was…circumstances."

"Eddie-"

"Can I come in?" You stepped to the side and motioned for him to come in. Once inside, he took a look around the familiar space, feeling more at home than he had in a long time. You went into the living room and plopped on the couch. He sat down on the other end, keeping a bit of distance between your bodies, "so…"

"What are you doing here, Eddie?" you allowed yourself one little look at his face. He looked tired and run down, but there was an expression of fierce determination on his face.

"I'm here to see you," he was never one to beat around the bush, "and I guess…asking you to take me back."

Your tummy erupted in butterflies and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. You turned to him, "I - what…you want me to take you back?"

"It's been four months and everyday has fucking sucked," he admitted, letting out a shaky little exhale, "and its because you're not there. I…my life isn't complete without you."

"But…I," he really had to go and be the best man ever. You smiled softly at him, "why would you want to be with me?"

"Are you kidding me?" He sounded offended, as though the answer was so obvious. To him it was obvious - you were everything to him. You looked at him, searching his pretty brown eyes, "babe, I'm in love with you. Everything about you, I'm so fucking in love with you it scares me some times. I don't want anyone but you. Like ever."

"But…"

"But what?" He asked gently as you searched for the right words, "tell me, baby."

"You deserve better."

"Why?"

"'cause," you shrugged him off but he wasn't going to have it.

"Nuh uh," he moved even closer and reached for your hand, "I'm not going to let it go until you give me a real answer."

"Look at me, Eddie!" You hung your head before sighing heavily, "I'm not skinny and pretty like all those other girls! You could have any and every single one of them. They'd be so much better for you and they'd be more like you. You'd have someone that deserves you."

"Is that what…baby, is that what this has been about?" He had his light bulb moment but it was a harsh reality. This was still bugging you for so long and he hadn't even realized, "you should have…fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't realize."

"It's not like you can fix anything," you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, "I am what I am and I don't want to feel like I'm holding you back."

"Fuck that," he shook his head, "I barely deserve you, you're so much…you're everything. I know you don't look like some of those other girls, but so what? You're gorgeous, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. I don't want anyone else."

"What if you change your mind one day?"

"I hate to break it to you, but that's never going to happen," he promised, "I love you and that's it. Nothing else matters. If anyone has anything to say, fuck 'em. They don't matter."

"Eddie…"

"Here," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, holding it out to you. You raised an eyebrow but took it gently and opened. Staring back at you was a beautiful diamond ring. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you looked at him, "yeah. I was, ugh, I was actually planning on asking you before you broke up with me."

"You were going to ask me to marry you?" Your voice cracked as you came to the realization that he really was in it forever. Not that you had any reason to ever doubt him, it was the voices in your head that grew too loud.

"Yeah," he whispered, his own throat thick with emotion, "I just…I wanted you to know."

"I'm sorry," you closed the box and handed it back to him slowly, "really, Eddie. I went and fucked things up."

"No, you didn't," he promised, touching your cheek, "your feelings are valid. Even though I don't agree with how you've been feeling about yourself. It also makes me mad that those girls, or anyone, would ever say something like that about anyone else. It's immature and just shows their own insecurities."

"Thank you," you put your hand on his wrist and squeezed gently, "you're the best, I hope you know that."

"I do," there was a playful little smile on his face, "because there's this amazing woman that constantly reminds me of that."

"You silly man," you couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled, "someone is going to be very lucky to have you one day."

"Yeah, I sure hope so," he snorted in amusement, "and I hope it's you."

"Me?!"

"Of course," he was beaming at you and it was enough to make your entire body feel like jelly, "did you really think you were just going to get rid of me like that?"

"I should have known better," your heart felt lighter than it had in months, "you're a stubborn man, Eddie Munson."

"Maybe so," he traced his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, "I'm also stubborn enough to think that you might still marry me."

"I think that might be something that could happen," and yeah, you were definitely and madly in love with this man, "its definitely in the cards."

"Hmm," he mused gently, "well, it's getting pretty late…I guess I should get going."

"Stay," you held onto his arm and kept him anchored towards you, "stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," you nodded, never more sure than anything else, "please."

"I love you, baby. So much."

"I love you too, Eddie. So, so much."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #rockstar!eddie #joseph quinn #plus size reader

555 notes · View notes

clairdelunelove · 3 months

Text

sunset boulevard

itadori yuuji x f!reader

genre: fluff! (blind date! one shot)

warnings: none, 2.6k words

synopsis: you don't do blind dates; too much risk with little reward. but your friends assure you that this time it'll be different. and when the epitome of 'the boy next door' starts talking to you at the amusement park– you think they're right.

a.n. haha, not my brainrot about itadori being so bad that I had to write this. and nu, I've never been on a blind date before but imma write about it :3

you created it on a whim. encouraged by your friends’ prodding and teasing about your love life- or lack thereof- so your fingers clicked on the newly downloaded app. meant to be just for fun. a silly topic for your girls’ night. “just for the plot,” you told them with a knowing shake of your head when they all impishly giggled. a generic dating app where most people on there had an ulterior motive and would do anything to achieve it. but you weren’t willing to accept that, promising yourself to keep boundaries. the limit that you’re willing to bargain on is a public date. emphasis on the ‘public’ part because your friends are already scheming. whispers about a netflix and chill type of date. but you sign into the app, choosing a couple pictures of yourself that are adequate enough to catch some attention, and write a creative bio. it’s impressionable. modest. wholesome. definitely not the route that your friends desired for you to engage in. “done,” you state matter-of-factly. a beat of silence passes. the realization that you’re actually agreeing to this sets in. much to your chagrin, your friends end up snatching your phone from your hands and adding their own spin to your profile. editing your pictures to the ones that they have on their phones. “we’ll set you up with someone good for you,” your friend reassures with a good-natured pat on your back. “real good,” your other friend slyly drawls and bursts out laughing with the others. you don’t know whether your stomach twists from nervousness or anticipation from their ruse.

ten minutes until your date is deemed late. twisting your wrist, you glance at your watch again just to confirm your suspicion and huff. you’d arrived half an hour earlier than the time your friends texted you. your motto was that it was better to be incredibly early than late, especially since you had no idea what your date looked like. but the fear of being deserted causes you to shift on your feet as you sidestep out of the way for a group of teenagers to pass. wouldn’t be the first time you’d get stood up. glancing upward, you double-check that you’re standing underneath the carnival’s main attraction– the ferris wheel. its bright, illuminated colors jump out at you, almost mockingly, as if to highlight the gloomy frown plastered on your face.

“waiting for someone too?”

the voice snaps you out of your daze and you’re left peering up at the person that seemingly appeared out of thin air. he’s attractive– the kind of appeal that leaves you breathless from his inquisitive eyes and easy grin. a slender hand is carded in his hair as he patiently awaits for your response.

“yeah,” you croak before hastily clearing your throat, “I am.”

it shocks you that he’s even conversing with you. clad in a yellow hoodie and denim jeans, he’s the epitome of 'the boy next door.' could probably win the role for starring in the newest coming of age movie that’s bound to gain revenue just from his visage. he’s adorned in vibrant colors that contrast your pastel-toned clothes and you self-consciously pull at your shirt.

“wanna check out that game right there? promise it’ll be quick!”

from the corner of your eye, you recognize that he’s angled towards you as the question leaves his lips. gosh, is he talking to you? almost like he’s inviting you to spend some time with him in the meantime.

dumbfounded, your mouth drops open as you point to yourself, “me? you’re talking to me?”

“of course!” he replies enthusiastically like it’s second nature for him to hang out with strangers, “might as well take advantage of the time, right?”

he adjusts his backpack by slinging the dark strap over his shoulder and turns to walk in the direction of the nearby carnival booths that have games lined up for customers. you note that he attempts to blend in with the crowd but his upbeat attitude is too perceivable. has a glimmer in his eyes that attracts the ogling of bystanders. luminescent signs light up the path to the section dedicated to the midway. wooden signs promising ‘fun’ and ‘a winner every time’ written in bubbly font. it’s enticing. it’s fun– an experience that you’ve lacked recently. and before you can argue that you’re waiting for someone, the blushy haired male ushers you to follow with a wave of his hand.

“c’mon!”

you’re lightly jogging after him, short strides compared to his long ones, and manage to catch up to him with an exasperated breath. he’s fit; not the type where his physique screams ‘gym rat’ but rather that he’s the epitome of good health.

catching sight of you beside him, he gleefully chuckles, “knew you’d be up for some fun! I’m–”

he breaks off to gawk at a booth that grabs his attention and instantly treads through the crowd to line up for it. the game has the typical objective of knocking over a pyramid of milk bottles. you stare at it expectantly, knowing that this midway game is usually fixed; bottles stacked on the bottom are filled with sand or lead that weigh in a couple extra pounds and the given ball is unusually light. he’s buzzing with excitement, though. hastily patting his pocket, he pulls out his wallet and whips out enough money to buy a turn.

“I’m itadori yuuji, by the way,” he finally continues his belated introduction while pushing the money into the midway worker’s hands.

“yuuji,” you repeat and savor the name on your lips, “these games are usually rigged, ya know.”

"are they?”

he doesn’t seem bothered by the carnival’s dirty tactic, however. merely chirps a word of gratitude when the worker tosses him the singular ball and deftly explains the rules of the game. the customary one chance to knock over all three milk bottles and you knowingly press your lips together.

yet, your eyes comically widen as he begins to strip his hoodie off and hands it to you, “can you hold this for a second? thanks!”

straight away, the movement coaxes onlookers to turn their attention to the both of you. steely gazes focused on the cuts of muscle on yuuji’s arm as he rolled his shoulder to stretch. you’re no exception. in fact, you take back what you earlier assumed about his physique. baffled by how his baggy clothes managed to cover his impressive build, you hurriedly turn your chin to hide the warmth that spreads across your cheeks and neatly tuck his hoodie under your arm. his physique is essentially out of a magazine— broad, beefy shoulders that taper off into a small waist.

your lips move before you can stop them. “you got this!”

an expression of shock paints his face due to your encouragement before he flashes you a lopsided grin; boyish before he concentrates. there’s a gleam in his eyes as he retracts his arm like he’s winding up to pitch in a baseball game. then, he lobs— no, hurls— it straight at the tower of milk bottles. the ball whizzes through the air and the targets come crashing down from the sheer power of his throw. it’s startling. dazed, you’re left wondering if the stranger you just met is secretly superhuman.

“we have a winner!” the midway worker roars to the enthusiastic crowd.

“yes!”

yuuji pumps his fist in the air as the worker and a couple people in the crowd come to congratulate him. he’s all smiles now. there’s a big, toothy grin plastered on his face when the worker hands him his prize; a large teddy bear that has a red bow on its chest and the sheer size of it has him grasping onto it with both hands.

“look!” he exclaims and gently shakes the stuffed toy in his grasp, “do you like it?”

you can’t help but giggle at the exhilaration behind his gaze, “it’s cute!”

he’s clearly pleased by your reaction, swiping a finger over his nose before bursting out into laughter and your heart fills. his habits are so endearing and wholesome that it’s heartwarming. abruptly, the teddy bear is pushed into your chest and yuuji's knuckles brush against yours from the maneuver. the stuffed bear’s big, beady eyes stare at you as yuuji deliberately turns to shrug on his hoodie again.

“it’s for you!”

his confession is a little muffled as he extends his arms through his sleeves and it occurs to you that he’s whirled away from you for a reason. a dust of pink washes over his cheeks and he runs a sheepish hand through his tousled hair.

“I won it for you,” he reiterates, almost bashful, “I mean, you did come and spend some time with me when you were probably busy but–”

it’s a stark contrast from the confident and affable guise that he’s shown you. a peek into his personality that you’ve yet to appreciate. he kicks at a stray pebble on the pavement while his hands are shoved into his pockets. the way his blushy hair is a similar shade to the tips of his ears causes you to inwardly melt.

your thoughts go haywire but a demure smile stretches across your glossy lips, “thank you, yuuji. I love it.”

he clears his throat, murmurs a comment about how it’s not a huge deal, and faces you. yuuji blinks— once, twice, and his gaze softens. then, he utters a compliment that goes straight to your heart.

“you look cute like that.”

it’s straightforward, candid but you still ask, “like what?”

“happy.”

you let him tug you to the next midway booth.

“aw, come on!”

yuuji’s droning is followed by the teasing nudge he gives you. the touch draws out a yelp from you and the sound immediately reduces him into a laughing fit. for now, the both of you agreed to do a little sightseeing before the amusement park closed for the day. it was already evening; the sky was a cascade of apricot and vermilion. a beautiful vision to match the day. spending time with yuuji was like being in a trance. time seemed to slip quicker when he was with you.

naturally, your fingers reach to pinch his cheek due to his antics.

“ow!” he cries and childishly rubs at the inflicted area, “not my fault I’m good at every game here.”

although the blushy haired male is telling the truth, you can’t help but pout at his words because yes– he was basically a professional at every game in the midway. you’ve tried your hand at a couple booths. yuuji insisted on paying for anything you touched and fondly watched. however, he was soon tagged in whenever you were unsuccessful and he managed to turn the game’s odds around. evident in the countless plushies that’s tucked in his strong arms. all of them were for you, of course. he just plucked them out of your grasp when you briefly mentioned how your arms were getting tired from carrying them around.

“you’re in denial!” he singsongs and grins wider when he hears you huff in exasperation.

“I am not in denial!”

“you are!”

“well, you’ve spent a lot on these games,” you pause to lower your voice, “and on me. you haven’t even known me for that long.”

unsurprisingly, he recognizes the concern laced on your words and stops walking. his brows furrowed. the teasing grin is wiped from his face and is replaced with a tender gaze. forever wise and dependable. he leans down, hooks a finger under your chin, and murmurs his reasoning.

“honestly,” his voice trails off in remembrance, “I barely have any time to do fun stuff like this so I'm taking advantage of it.”

the sentiment is supposed to be understandable, one that many individuals’ share in life. yet, you can’t help but assume that his words weigh heavier than the average person’s. it stabs at your heart to know that such a kind soul is no stranger to heartache.

“besides,” he interrupts your train of thought and gleefully grins, “I get to win a pretty girl some prizes. sounds like a win to me.”

with an affectionate compliment, yuuji cleverly brings back the light-hearted mood from earlier. he’s skilled at this– redirecting your focus through an optimistic point of view. one of his traits that you’re smitten with. fondly patting your head, he takes a step back and rises to his full height. he’s still gauging your expression, though. his eyes are like liquid honey from this proximity and you’re in awe. truth be told, you might never meet another person quite like him.

you can’t help but poke fun, “are you saying that you usually pick up girls at the amusement park, yuuji?”

“me? nah,” then he murmurs, a tinge of guilt coating his words, “I was actually supposed to go on a blind date here.”

the remark leaves his lips in a single, rushed breath like it’s been bothering him the entire time. he’s quiet. his arms tighten around the stuffed animals in his grasp and he tilts his head in contemplation. he’s internally battling himself. why did he have to open his mouth? is he ruining this and digging his own grave? frown deepening, he vaguely wonders if he should’ve brought it up in the first place. perhaps you would think of him differently and then–

from this angle you get a glimpse of his throat bobbing before he quickly adds, “but I liked this better.”

what the blushy haired male isn’t expecting, though, is how your face breaks into astonishment, “wait. a blind date? I’m supposed to be on a blind date too!”

you couldn’t believe your luck.

“you’re (y/n)?”

willingly nodding at his inquiry, yuuji sputters in disbelief and shifts the prizes under one arm so he can put a hand on your shoulder, “this is crazy! like, crazy in a good way but still– crazy! who would’ve thought, right?”

long arms blindly reaching for you, he wraps you into a hug that has your face squished into the hard expanse of his chest. he’s laughing wildly– a genuine sound that brings an emotion that knocks the wind out of you because he’s truly thrilled that you are his blind date. your fingers grip the back of his hoodie, allowing yourself to be engulfed in his warmth.

“and here I was dreading the blind date that kugisaki and fushiguro set up for me,” he thoughtlessly mumbles in your hair while retelling his own version of how his friends forced encouraged him to go.

pulling away, albeit unhurriedly, the both of you exchanged phone numbers and promises of keeping in touch were whispered into the evening air.

“you can text me whenever you want,” yuuji tucks his phone back into his pocket while sheepishly grinning, “even if you don’t have a reason to.”

cheekily texting him a greeting, for the fun of it, you grin when his phone dings at the notification, “I will.”

puffs of warm air swirl and intermingle into one. his eyes twinkled in the streetlights’ rays of light. it was romantic– sickeningly so that you wondered if you were dreaming.

yuuji ended up lending you his hoodie, chuckling when the bright, oversized garment swaddled you. he even walked you back to your place and waited in the chill until he heard the door’s lock click into place. there’s a bounce in your step when you waltz into your bedroom.

with all the stuffed animals neatly lined up on your bed, you instantly snap a picture of you and yuuji’s winnings. your fingers swiftly dropped the photo in your friends’ group chat before sending it to yuuji. and your lips curl into a smile when his text bubbles immediately appear on the screen. memorabilia of your first– successful– blind date with someone that was too good to be true.

#jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

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