#if it’s ever NOT you will know they’ll be big ol warnings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kakujis · 6 months

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

baji vers | geto vers

synopsis: unbeknownst to you, the grave you visit everyday has been empty for years. keisuke is finally ready to come see you again.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!baji, character death, devotion, grief and dealing with it, slightly angsty but also fluffy, pet names (baby, kitten), swearing, a little selfship coded, NOT PROOFREAD!, SFW feel free to interact but pls remember i'm an 18+ blog!

ft: vampire!baji x reader, 2.4k

network: @enchantedforest-network

an: here's baji's version!! actually, this one was supposed to come AFTER suguru's but... erm... hehe. it also was supposed to be spookier, but i am nothing but a big ole softy for my loverboy. ): happy halloween! i wanted to post it on his birfday, but i think this is more fitting! could've been longer but i just wanted to get something out LOL. thanks to nie for letting me ramble about this lil fic!!

life is such a finicky thing. and sometimes, the time ticks by too slowly for your liking until it’s suddenly too fast, too short, too soon.

you’ve been to this grave a hundred - no maybe thousands of times, over the years. and yet, like the snowfall, your tears slip down your cheeks, hugging the warmth of your body, til they fall onto the ground disappearing into the asphalt.

chifuyu matsuno thinks one day, he’ll beat you to it. one day he’ll be the one who arrives first, turning around with a smile and holding a bag of peyoung yakisoba. it’ll be his eyes rimmed red with hands trembling so hard that he’s sure they’ll snap. but you are always here first, almost every day for the past god knows how many years.

every aspect of the word “first”, is what keisuke baji had embodied. first division captain, first born son, and your first love. he was rowdy, rough, sometimes a little insensitive, but at the end of it all, he was loyal. he was yours.

“if i’m yours, then you’re mine.” he grinned, toothy, vibrant and all encompassing. his hands held yours like they were the world, and maybe, in a sense, they were. but even the world cannot last forever, the stars themselves bursting at the seams when their time has come.

“they’re so pretty.” you told him, leaning against his shoulder, pointing up with your index finger. “don’tcha think?”

“they’re alright,” he mumbled, but he kept his eyes upward, staring at the same stars as you. “i'd rather look at you.”

“you’re so fucking cheesy.” you laughed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

when stars die, they leave a beautiful supernova, an explosion of color across the galaxy, painting the universe in rich hues of color. but when baji died, you thought it was so fucking ugly. you remember throwing up the first night, your own shitty constellation within the porcelain of your toilet.

then the world started to dim, like the world was dipped in muted shades when there used to be so much vibrance. the sun was no longer as bright and you no longer sought comfort under the moon, hiding away from even her blue light.

if there is solace in one thing, it’s that baji was a really good liar. sure, he was different that day and sometimes had trouble looking at you, but there was nothing to suspect that he would decide to plunge in that knife and bleed out on the ground of that god forsaken junkyard.

“i’m scared you’ll go away,” you told him one night, so desperately wishing now that you would’ve noticed the way he tensed ever so slightly. “like, one day, i’ll wake up and you’re not there anymore.”

you remember how he leaned in, nose brushing against yours before pulling back slightly. “and where would i go that doesn’t have you in it?” he grinned, another bright fanged smile that eased every single worry out of your brain. and you decided in that moment, that keisuke was always going to be the one that held your heart in his hands.

“marry me one day.” you replied and he laughed, before holding up his pinky to yours. “good. saying no wasn’t an option.”

“figured.”

but today is not a day to be caught in memories as the sun plummets below the horizon, as the sky shifts from a pretty magenta pink to inky black. feet bouncing off the pavement, you scurry over to his grave. you chastise yourself for being late today of all days, it was his birthday.

“sorry!” you call out as you finally make it, hands on your knees as you suck precious air back into your lungs. “sorry i’m late, kei.”

you do the usual of pouring water onto the tombstone, before you light a candle and spread the blanket beneath you, sitting cross-legged as you pull out the contents of your bag. “i got a little something extra today,” you say, eagerly pulling out the sealed little slice of cake you got at the bakery. “okay… so it looks a little fucked, but don’t mind that.” you giggle, before sighing.

“if you were here… what would you say?” you mumble to yourself, before putting on your best keisuke voice. “hah? it’s still edible isn’t it?... or something.” you nod as if in response to him, before tearing it open and setting it down. “chifuyu saw you earlier right? did he bring you something good? oh! and, i was looking at some of the cats at the pet shop earlier, they’re no peke j but, they’re still cute, y’know?”

you always do this. you ramble and ramble, relaying your day to him as if he’s listening intently to you. sometimes, you’ll imagine when the two of you sat in his room, his lips quirked up into a smile as he nodded and listened to you.

“the cake is good!” you exclaim, taking a bite. it’s fluffy, creamy, and sweet, it almost masks the saltiness of your tears that seep past your lips, onto your tongue and settle on your buds.

almost.

“fuck- sorry. sorry for crying.” you use one hand to wipe away at your tears, the other holding onto your convenient plastic fork. it’s harder to breathe now, sobs wracking your body as your mind floods with “what ifs” once again. what if you had asked him to stay with you that day? what if you tried harder? what if you had noticed something was wrong sooner? could you have done anything? and what if-

lost in your thoughts you almost miss the familiar drawl that used to set your heart and soul on fire. “still a crybaby, eh?”

you freeze, the fall breeze caressing your cheek as you sniffle and ever so slowly, turn. you must have been hearing things, you think, as there’s nothing there but the other stone graves and the leaves on the wind.

“maybe i am losing my fucking mind...” you mutter, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, “i should look into therapy.”

you shake your head, a little spooked. it’s getting later by the moment, the only light nearby being the candle, a warm-orange flame surrounded by night. you lean over to blow it out, but stop, feeling that you should stay a bit longer. not only are you late, but it’s keisuke’s day, it wouldn’t be right to leave so soon. you frown, before settling back in place.

“anyways, what was i saying?” you hum, taking another scoop of your dessert. “something-“

“something about the new cats at chifuyu’s shop right?” that familiar voice sounds again, closer this time, tickling the shell of your ear.

you immediately jerk around and almost pass out at what you see. crouched down and smiling, that familiar wolfy grin is keisuke, looking just like you remembered. from the way his long, inky hair frames his face to the vivid carmine of his eyes, it’s keisuke.

“hey, continue the story baby, i was listening.” he gestures to the cake on your fork, slipping off the utensil from the shakiness of your hands. “lemme have a bite?”

you’re snapped from your stupor when he finally touches you, cold fingers lightly guiding your hand upward towards his mouth. you immediately scramble back, the cake falling onto the blanket below.

“kitten,” he says, frowning at the mess, “y’know i hate wasting food.” the pet name almost sends you into a spiral, the way it falls off his tongue so easily, just like he always used to say it, almost like it was your name at times.

“you’re not real.” you whisper, shaking your head slightly, the words trapped behind the door of your brain unleashing in that moment. “i’m hallucinating. i have to be.”

he inches towards you as you continue to crawl back, back hitting the cold gray stone. keisuke leans in, snuffing out the candle between his fingers first before redirecting his attention to you. he’s so close you’re sure he can feel your breath, but the odd thing is, you can’t feel his.

“if i wasn’t real…” he starts, inching in so close your noses just barely touch, just a hair widths away, “could i do this?” he kisses you then, just barely holding back his deep fervent need to snatch you up and take you home. wherever that was.

it’s strange, baji’s cold, nearly ice, and yet you feel the familiar rush of warmth through your veins that once bloomed so deeply in your heart, that everything suddenly does feel real. the two of you stay like that for a few moments and when he pulls away you lean in again, snatching him by the collar to press another kiss to the lips that you missed so much.

baji’s wolfish grin plays on his face in between the kisses you continue to plant against his lips and his skin, alternating between his cheeks and jawline. “yeah, yeah, i missed you too, you big crybaby.” he laughs, cupping your face to swipe at the tears that fall freely once again.

you whine when he forces you to pull off, bringing your hands up to his, almost as if you’re sure he’ll run off again and be gone by morning. “you’re really keisuke? …this isn’t a joke?” you shake your head as you ask, hiccuping and trying your best to heave in gulps of air.

“yeah, it’s me.” he answers, the crinkle of his eyes never leaving.

but you just don’t get it. how is baji here and not well, six-feet under? almost as if he can read your mind he speaks, “i’m not really sure how it happened either.” he starts, releasing you and staring down at his palms, opening and closing them, almost as if he’s also in a daze. “i shouldn’t be here, i know that. i made sure i wouldn’t and yet, i woke up not too long after that day.” he lifts his shirt up and you wince in anticipation, but there’s nothing where the old stab wound should be, like it never happened.

hesitantly, you place your hand flat against the area, before your fingertips trace the outline where it should be. you exhale deeply before speaking again, “how come you only showed up now?”

he gives you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck, as the hem of his shirt falls back into place. “well… i had to sort of figure things out. dunno how well received i would’ve been if i just showed up after my own funeral.” he jokes, but you glare at him.

“do you have any idea at all how badly that fucked me up?” you ask, remembering the countless nights you spent staring up at your bedroom walls so utterly exhausted from crying or the days you spend in a haze, trying your best to get through the day. you won’t lie, you’ve been so angry since that day. endlessly lonely, endlessly empty, and just when you thought you’d be able to get over it, he shows up like it wasn’t that big of a deal.

“well, i watched you a lot.” he admits, gazing around the cemetery. “you come here every single day, you cry every single time, even when you say you’re not going to. you’ve cursed me out in death more times than i can count and i think you’ve tried every single type of peyoung soba. you, chifuyu, and kazutora have only come here together a handful of times and everytime one of you ends up drunk crying.” he snorts, before continuing, “you sleep with my hair ties under your pillow and almost had the balls to ask my mom for my toman jacket, multiple times.she would’ve said yeah, by the way. every evening you say goodnight to me and that you love me.”

he grins when you sit there, mouth agape, and asks, “did i miss anythin’?”

you shake your head, “but what now? i still don’t get why you came here today?”

he shrugs, “i’ve got a question for ya.” but his expression is serious now, the shift in his features making you nervously fidget with your hands. but before you can look away, he tilts your head towards him, the other hand intertwining with yours, locking you in place. “you still wanna be with me forever?”

your heart pounds in your chest, almost alarmingly so, as you gaze at him with lidded eyes while your voice is light, fluttering back up to him and relaying the answer he’s been waiting to hear. “of course, keisuke.”

“and you’d do anything? …let me do anything?” he questions further, squeezing when you nod your head.

you’d let me turn you?

and you’re aware now, what it is he’s asking. and maybe, you think it’s because you centered so much of you life around him, that leaving it behind doesn’t sound too bad. if you were the clouds, then baji was the sky, always trying to stay in that space so intrinsically bound to one another that only death could have separated you.

he never said the word, but he didn’t really need to. what was the one thing that could have escaped death like this? what else was he but a vampire?

“okay,” he sighs, “if you’re sure.”

“more than ever.” you state.

keisuke is fast, picking you up and into his arms. naturally, you wrap yours around his neck, a part of you still thinking that this must be a dream.

“well, there’s no way we’re gonna do it in some freakin’ cemetery.” he jokes and you giggle. if his heart could beat, he’s sure it’d flutter just as fast as yours.

“hey are you gonna turn chifuyu?” you ask, blinking up at him, “or tora?”

“you think they’d wanna hang out with us? for eternity?” he asks, picking up the pace as he walks.

“hmm, maybe you’re right. besides, takemichi’s gonna miss them too much right?” you continue, the breeze kissing your now dried cheeks.

“don’t forget mikey.” he adds, before continuing, “well, it’s not like we can’t visit sometime.”

you nod, placing your head on his shoulder, “not too soon though, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

he smiles at you as he answers, “don’t worry. we’ve got all the time in the world.”

as the two of you leave, you peek back towards the lights of the city, becoming smaller and smaller with each step. and you wonder how upset chifuyu’ll be tomorrow when he finds your half-eaten cake, spread out on an already forgotten blanket.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokrev fluff #tokyo revengers fluff #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke x you #baji keisuke fluff #tokyo revengers x y/n #ermm #pibby writing #i hope this is good i didnt proofread LOL

195 notes · View notes

glystenangel · 2 years

Text

Welcome to the Neighborhood

SingleDad! Sukuna x Afab!Reader - Modern AU

Series Summary: you move in next door and sukuna, the single dad living next door, notices

alternatively you’re a pottery artist that moves into the neighborhood and you and sukuna develop a big ol fat crush on each other. then you ****.

Chapters: 1/7

Chapter Summary: you meet your next door neighbor

Status: Completed

Tags: Sukuna is separate from Yuji, slight slow burn (it starts off slowish bear w me)

Warnings: 18+ , sukuna is chronically shirtless, sex mention, masturbation mention, slight voice kink

Author's Notes: based on this post bc it is 💞👌👌👌💞💞 thank you to @ringpop-poppy on tumblr for giving me permission to write this, def check them out! also shoutout to @certifiedjaeger because their god tier writing talent inspired me to write again as well🥰 all the chapters are done, but i don't want to spam so I probably won't post them all at once! enjoy daddy sukuna<3

Chapter 1 - Knock Knock

“How’s life in suburbia?”

You blew your hair out of your face before answering your friend Shoko, surrounded by towers of boxes and sighing into the phone as the afternoon light streamed through your new home, “Boxy. But the movers just dropped off the last of my furniture, so maybe that will change soon.”

“I’m sure your pottery stuff was a bitch to unload.” She commented, and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the movers cursing as they dropped off your kiln and potter’s wheel.

“I gave them a good tip, so they’ll forgive me.”

“Uh huh, you meet any of the neighbors yet?” She asked, and you could hear her shuffling papers at her end of the line. You suspected she was reviewing patient notes and having cigarettes for dinner instead of going grocery shopping like she had told you she was.

“Mmm, not yet, my cookies are gonna be done in like two minutes though.” You furrowed your brows, unsure if you liked the tinkling sound of broken glass in the cardboard box you had just picked up.

“Only you would bake cookies to distribute to the neighborhood before you’ve even finished unpacking.” You could almost see her shaking her head while puffing out a stream of smoke.

“Everyone likes cookies! I want to get along with my neighbors, plus it’s a cute tradition don’t you think?” You winced upon seeing your living room lamp smashed to pieces. Maybe you shouldn’t have tipped.

“I guess. Don’t overwork yourself though. Moving’s a mission in itself and I know you act like making pottery is the best thing ever, but I’ve seen you burn out enough times to give you some shit about it.”

“Aw, and you say I’m the nice one.”

“Whatever, I can be nice sometimes.”

You giggled at your characteristically gloomy and serious friend’s stubbornness, “Key word is some- Oh! My cookies! I gotta run Shoko.”

This time, you knew you could hear her eyes roll, “Alright, see you. I’ll come visit when I can.”

“Thanks Shoko! See ya.”

You quickly hung up and rushed to the kitchen, patting yourself on the back for immaculately organizing your kitchen while unpacking earlier and donning plush oven mitts to pull out the batch of decadent, golden brown circles of sugar you had lovingly prepared.

Ever since college, you had given out cookies to your neighbors whenever you moved somewhere new. You had always seen it on tv shows and movies and figured it was the best way to get to know the community.

You happily hopped in place after setting the cookies onto the counter, the warm scent of vanilla and chocolate wafting through the air. Baking cookies was also the best way to make your new house feel like a home.

Figuring they’d be best fresh and that whatever remained unpacked could wait, you took a few paper plates and stacked them with the treats, covering them in a thin film of plastic before setting off to surprise your neighbors.

Everyone was fairly pleasant and welcomed you to the neighborhood, and you made your way to the house right next to yours as the sun was setting. When you had been first scoping out the neighborhood, your realtor hadn’t said much about your next door neighbor, summarizing them as your standard family. Before you even knocked, you heard a crashing sound and then children’s laughter filling the air. You smiled to yourself, already sure that your realtor hadn’t done them justice in their vague description.

You knocked, and a deep baritone called out from within, “Who the hell is that?”

“Daddy! You said a bad word! Hell!” You heard a little girl gasp.

“Nobara, just because Daddy says it doesn’t mean you can.”

“Hell!” You covered your mouth, trying to contain a laugh at her petulant rebelliousness before composing yourself.

You decided to knock again,“I just moved in next door and wanted to drop off some cookies!”

“Cookies?! I want some!” You heard another child, this time, a boy.

“Finish going potty first.”

“But cookies-”

“Wait! Yuji! Put your goddamn pants on.”

“Never!” You heard a boyish cackle and the telltale smacks of small, gleeful footsteps on hardwood floor coming closer to the door.

“No pants party!” The little girl screamed excitedly.

“Get back here, both of you! Yuji! Jesus Christ-” You heard a huff behind the door and more chaos before a tired yell came through, “Could you come back later? Nobara-do not bite your brother. Or Daddy.”

“I’m the vampire queen!”

“I’ll just leave them here!” You yelled back, snickering to yourself and tucking the plate onto their doormat.

What a fun house that must be, you thought to yourself as you made your way to the sidewalk connecting your houses.

________________

After a couple of days, you’d decided to hang up some plants along your back patio. You climbed a ladder to hook the leafy plant baskets along the wooden trellis and rested at the top to admire your handiwork, feeling your heart swell with pride as your little home was slowly but surely coming together.

Your eyes drifted to the house next to yours, the fence was only as tall as your chest and you could see right over it, but you hadn’t paid much more attention to it since you had been madly emptying boxes and trying to catch up with the client emails you had neglected during your move.

A large set of steps crowned with steel metal railing descended from two sliding glass doors that served as the house's back entrance, a patch of cement connecting the end of the stairs and the surprisingly lush green yard. There was a small bright red inflatable soccer goal set up towards the back of the yard, with a more faded plastic slide of the same color askew to its left and what looked to be a homemade sandbox filled with pale grains of sand dusting its borders in the middle of the yard. Only a couple of mid sized bushy trees dotted the spaces in between, and you softly smiled at the childish chalk drawing acting as a mural on the opposite fence. It consisted of 3 stick figures, 2 with spiky pink hair and one with a brown bob and stick straight eyelashes. The largest figure had dark black lines framing their face, but each one had a name scrawled above their head.

“Queen Nobara, Daddy, and Stinky Yuji.” You quietly read, amused by the bold yet squiggly handwriting.

They were holding hands and surrounded with red and pink hearts, the last heart not even reaching halfway above the fence. You deduced that the artist had to have been the rambunctious little girl you had heard through your neighbor’s door. How cute.

“It’s a masterpiece isn’t it?” Your attention was suddenly snatched by the other, deeper voice you recalled from behind the door two nights ago.

Your head snapped towards its source, and you felt your stomach drop.

A tall, shirtless man with an undercut of peach colored hair and patterns of black lines trailing down the sides of his face and toned body was standing by the back door. He had on running shoes and some gray sweats, with a towel tucked around his neck that he was using to dab at his sharp jawline. His muscles were distractingly large, and you marveled at the sweat and dark tattoos donning his olive toned skin. You were willing to bet money that even in that state he probably smelled good too. You could barely meet his eyes, which held a coppery shine and you had to remind yourself to speak as a wolfish grin spread across his handsome features. He was nothing short of gorgeous, and unfortunately seemed to be very aware of it.

“Yes, I was just thinking how cute it is. Is ‘Queen Nobara’ the artist?” You leaned against the top of your ladder, quirking up a brow when his eyes briefly drifted below your neckline. He wasn't subtle. He probably never had to be.

Sukuna laughed at your question, and your heart skipped a beat at the velvety sound.

“Sure is, she’s the cutest little shit.”

His tattooed figure was intimidating, but you found the way he said the words, fondly and with no malice, endearing.

“And ‘Stinky Yuji’ is the one who doesn’t like wearing pants?”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed and he leaned forward to brace himself on the railing.

“You made those cookies?”

His hands wrapped completely around the metal, and the veins of his forearms became more pronounced. You tried to stop yourself from imagining being caged underneath them, or feeling them gripping around your thighs until they left bruises.

A nervous laugh escaped past your lips, “Um, yeah! That was me the other day, I just moved here.”

“They were really good. My kids loved them, thank you.” Another grin, but this time more of a smile than a smirk.

You felt your cheeks warm and began to reply when a shrill, “Daddy!” erupted from the house, followed by some incoherent squabbling.

“Speak of the devil.” He winked at you and disappeared into the house, and you didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until a few more moments had passed.

Fuck.

________________

After that initial face to face encounter, your next door neighbor took up more of your headspace than you would have liked.

It didn’t help that every time you looked out the window he would be shirtless, doing god knows what because his pecs and tapered waistline were so incredibly distracting that you couldn’t even begin to guess what he had been up to unless he was doing something truly mundane like grabbing the mail. Not that you were even trying to stare. It was just that he opted to do pretty much any activity shirtless or wearing, at most, muscle tanks cut open at the sides. You could probably count on one hand how many times you’d seen him in anything with sleeves.

Despite his questionable and scant wardrobe, or maybe because of it, you started paying closer attention to him.

Even though he was so rough around the edges, you could tell he was a good father and cared more than his aggressive manner of speaking and tough exterior would imply.

Whenever the sun was out on the weekends, you’d see him playing with his kids, their laughs and screams of joy reaching across the yard. He would swing them around his shoulders, play fighting with them and pretending to chase them before being overpowered by whatever super powers or techniques they had made up to ‘defeat him’.

You would watch them from your own yard as you sat and drafted sketches for future pottery pieces, heart squeezing before retreating back into your home to push thoughts of him out of your mind with clay and glaze.

Emptying him from your mind never lasted as long as you wanted it to, and one day, he had come over to hand you some mail that was mistakenly delivered to his house.

“I think this is yours.”

“Oh, thank you! I think I got yours too then, you’re…Ryoumen Sukuna right?” You read off of one of the envelopes you had brought in, peering up at him cautiously in case you had mispronounced it.

He had smiled wide upon hearing you say his name, taking the letters from you and leaning close, “You can just call me Sukuna.”

You had timidly given him your name in return, and he had straightened up, repeating it slowly as if he was savoring it around his tongue.

“I’ll remember that. Thanks.”

Once he was gone, you had immediately run to your bedroom to slide shaky fingers between your legs, hearing the echo of your name in his voice until you were sore.

________________

End Notes: oh no, he's hot! (and yes we're classifying 5'8 as tall okay) check my fic tag for the next chapter! building the spice slowly yet surely👌😎

thanks for reading!

Next Chapter →

#myfics #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna fanfic #sukuna fic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #sukuna imagine #jjk sukuna #jjk ryomen #sukuna ryomen #ryoumen sukuna #wttn fic

577 notes · View notes

themarcspector-hasmovedblogs · 2 years

Text

Prompt number: Day 2: "You’ve Told Your Parents?" @flufftober

Fandom: Original Work “I Am the Shadow”

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Irsa Kaplan & Pierre Decher | Both Original Characters

Warnings/Tags: mentions space whales, some swearing, water.

Isra’s more-or-less the type of woman who’s never ever wanted to settle down. She's also the type of woman who's always been an adventurous soul and free spirit, whose goal has always been to see the universe and meet as many people as possible. She's always had a taste for life that's never been satisfied and has never settled for anything or anyone, except the best.

So, of course, she’ll flirt and bed anyone who she finds attractive or fun, and of course, she never stays around people for long and tends to keep a planet’s length away from exes in order to keep any trouble from happening.

But with her darling Pierre, it’s different.

The guy is a fucking catch, and she really adores the guy a lot.

Though he’s not the type of guy people expect her to get with -- because people expect her to get with buff guys who are impulsive and hardheaded like her -- she’s always quite liked nerdy guys who wear their hearts on their sleeves. And honestly, it likely goes back to her mother finding a copy of the Earth film “The Mummy” and her wanting her own version of Evie growing up. And though secretly Isra hoped that her Evie would be a woman who looked like Rachel Weisz (glasses and all), she’s bisexual and is completely fine with her Evie being a man -- especially when this man wears those Milo Thatch glasses she occasionally will steal for teasing purposes.

So really. It's more than fine.

And as she's sitting with Pierre on a picnic blanket on the ground, they watch as whales swim overhead where the sky is supposed to be, and he talks and talks and talks to her about the whales above them.

They’re quite specific to this planet and he tells her they're rather deadly. So deadly, that when they were building the sanctuary they call home, the whales would cause trouble for those who tried to make it to the underwater society in submarines.

Isra found that fascinating, since the first week she was stuck underwater she wished she'd gotten eaten. but now that she was there, she was glad she'd met Pierre.

“You’ve told your parents?” Isra had asked him as he continued on talking about the whales.

“They already knew about the whales…” he trailed off, but still smiled all the same.

Isra laughed. “No, no – about me, about us! Aren’t you a little curious if they’ll hate my guts?” Isra patted his chest before she sat up a bit to look at him with her soft brown eyes.

“No one in my family could hate you,” he expressed, looking up at her before pushing up those milo thatch glasses she thought about earlier, while giving her a big ole dorky grin. “I mean, my parents probably will, but that’s because they hate everyone. But everyone else here that I love….I doubt they’ll hate you.”

A louder laugh from Isra, which received the attention of people at the park, made Isra hide her face. “Well, at least I know what I’m getting into. Also, if it’s any consolation, I’m used to parents not liking me. I’m a little….too much woman for most parents, I'm acquired taste.”

He closed his eyes and hummed, clearly in thought, before she touched the tip of his nose with her index finger. “I think you being a little too much could be why they don't hate you, if they end up not hating you. My mother is always talking about someone protecting me and that's one thing you have going for you. Apparently, I'm a trouble magnet and one thing you're good at Isra is protecting....”

Isra gave him a smirk and wiggled her brows before moving over to sit on top of him, and then moved down to give him a quick yet pleasant kiss. “I’m afraid that’s already happened, my guy…I’m as much trouble as anyone can fall into,” she said to him, his smile growing wider. "But you're right. I'm as protective as you can get, and as long as I'm here, no one will hurt you on my watch."

“Very true. Which is why my parents will like you if they like you." He nodded, before he placed his hand on her waist.

“Lucky for you, until I decide to leave this place – or if I ever can – you’ve got one hell of a bodyguard," Isra teased, resting her hand on his heart and smiling wide at him. "So hopefully they'll like me."

"Yes, hopefully. But if not..." He trailed off.

"If not..." Isra winced, and then shrugged. "Who gives a fuck, yeah?" And then she laughed.

#flufftober2022 #original works #day 2 #original characters #me: isra x pierre #projects: i am the shadow

5 notes · View notes

purplekiwis · 2 years

Note

I love your writing!!! Can i request subrry? Like everyone is surprised when they accidentaly find out that harry is often a sub and harry just blush constantly around y/n's conservative family because he knows they know. I would love for you to write about y/n teasing him about how it turned him on the fact that her family is not happy about it. With a little smut like a handjob in the bathroom or something.

Love ♡

subrry blurb: nosy

Warnings: Smut , Implications of exhibitionism, Slightly uncomfortable interactions with an overly curious mother

Wordcount: 3.7k

anonnnnn 💗 this one was crazy fun to write!! although i will admit i was a little scared to dive into this subject at first, 'cause i know this might not be everyone's cup of tea, but i still hope you enjoy what i came up with.

“Harry, the other one looked fine...” Y/N said, zipping her suitcase open as she watched Harry place yet another set of clothes over the bed. Once again, emptying half a drawer just to pick out a shirt to match his trousers.

They were going to spend Easter at Y/N’s parents’ house… something that could have perfectly justified Harry’s agitation, had it been the first time he was attending one of their family gatherings…

But it wasn’t.

He had already met all of her close relatives before, on multiple occasions, and he had never acted nervous about it before...

Power play aside, Harry was never the kind to be shy or scared to talk. He could make casual conversation with anyone… even with Y/N’s tight-lipped granny, or with her 6-year-old second cousin, who had the most racy and incoherent speech ever.

This time however, he was… incredibly fidgety.

“No, it looked stupid.” He grumbled under his breath, taking a step back to admire his outfit combos from afar. “They all look stupid.”

Y/N sighed at that, deciding to walk around the bed to meet her lover on the other side. “Come here you big ol’ grumpy baby,” She cooed, hugging him from behind and nuzzling her face on his shoulder. “Alright, tell me - what’s the real issue here? ‘Cause I know for a fact that you love that shirt.”

“Dunno, I’m just… nervous, I think.”

“About seeing my family?”

“Yeah, a bit.” He admitted, pausing for a beat before adding, “I guess I’m like… scared they’ll look at me differently.”

Y/N frowned a bit, confused. “Why would they do that, baby? They love you. You know that…”

“Yeah, but that was before… you know,” Y/N’s brows furrowed deeper, she really didn't know what he was referring to. “That thing with your mum. It was funny when you told me… but now that I actually have to see her and the rest of your family, it’s making me nervous ‘cause...” He huffed, before saying briskly, “I don't want them to think I'm not man enough for you.”

“Babyyy…” Y/N whined, shocked to find that he’d been worrying over something like that. “Whether you’re enough for me or not is up for me to decide, not my parents.” She assured, dotting kisses up his shoulder. “And I've already decided long ago. You are enough. Much more than enough...”

In response to his girlfriend’s admission, Harry turned - leaning forward and pressing his face against her neck. “Okay. Good.” He whispered, breathing in her scent before adding, “Remember when we first got together, and I told you that you were the best thing that ever happened to me? It still stands. I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone but you.”

“Good, ‘cause you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.” She bantered, getting on her tippy toes to peck his mouth, once, twice, three times before she forced herself to pull away. “And take the button-up with the cute little spaceships. It's not stupid, it’s my favorite too.”

During the car drive to her parent’s house Y/N kept mulling over what Harry had said earlier…

So that was why he’d been avoiding family gatherings like the plague lately...?

Because he was scared her mom was going to judge him...?

That had never even crossed Y/N’s mind… probably because she already knew the drill when it came to her mom. Y/N’s mom was, well… a classic motor-mouth. Who liked to poke her nose into everyone’s business and then played the prude and pretended to be astounded by her juicy findings, just so she could have an excuse to ask more nosy questions.

So yeah, Y/N’s mom was a bit of a meddler… and even though her motives were more so curiosity than genuine judgment, it got annoying. Especially when she tried to poke into Harry and Y/N's sex life, after she started suspecting they weren’t doing things in the most conventional way…

Of course they’d originally never meant for any of their parents to figure anything out, and they hadn't… at least not entirely, and certainly not overnight - it wasn't as if they'd walked in to find Y/N with a whip in hand.

It was the small clues here and there, namely a few things they’d happened to have caught sight of that they were never supposed to see. Like ever.

And it also wasn’t like Y/N and Harry had a habit of leaving their kinky stuff laying around the house for everyone to see, but sometimes, because they were so used to certain objects, their brains sort of failed to remember those should look strange to other people’s eyes. Hell, most times they even forgot said objects were incriminating at all… until they noticed the bugged look in their visitor’s eyes and realized what they were staring at.

It was never something crazy like a fluorescent dildo. In fact, Y/N is pretty sure the worst experience she’s had was that one time her mom visited while her and Harry had a very, uh... interesting looking set of clothing hanging on the drying rack. Oh, or that time her dad found a lost collar under the couch and proceeded to ask if they’d gotten a pet dog.

Harry’s parents had caught onto some things too, but they knew better than to ask on them… unlike Y/N’s mom,

Who had once, after the drying rack incident, when they happened to pass by a sex shop window while shopping for sales together, turned to Y/N and said something like, “That hideous thing on the mannequin reminds me a lot of a rubbery rag I saw at your house…” Then she’d sighed, before adding in that slightly judging mother tone, “You know, sometimes I still wonder what my daughter could be doing wearing such frippery, but I think I'd rather not know.”

“Trust me, I don’t think you want to know either.” Y/N had replied, slightly annoyed. “Sides, what Harry and I do in our privacy is none of your business. I don't get why you're wasting your time thinking about that...”

“Oh, so you are admitting it is for sex…” The mother protested, rushing to keep up with Y/N's steadfast walk along the sidewalk. The slight stumble in her footsteps was almost comical in comparison to those of her daughter, who hadn’t had to swerve once, whereas she continually bumped into other walkers passing by.

“Of course it’s for sex, mom. What else would it be for?” Y/N murmured back, once the coast was clear of potential listeners.

“Well, I don't know. You tell me, you’re the one who wears it.”

“Christ mom, it's a corset! Don't need to make a scene about it... didn't you use to have a sheer babydoll? There. It's the same thing.” The girl argued, ending with a click of her tongue.

“It certainly isn't.” The mother grimaced, seeming rather nettled by the comparison. “A babydoll is elegant and modest... that thing you have is... depraved, to say the least.”

“Yeah, so?” Y/N questioned, just as miffed. “I like it and it makes me feel pretty - and good in my own skin, which is something you should be happy about.”

“So you're some kind of deviant, is that it? Like that Fifty Shadows movie. Is that what you're doing?”

“It's Fifty Shades, mom - not Shadows, and no that’s not what I’m doing because what happens in that movie is as far from a good depiction of healthy BDSM as it can get.”

“So you are doing it!” Upon her mother’s accusation Y/N simply shrugged, looking completely unconcerned as she resumed her walk. “Do you have any idea of how dangerous that kind of thing is?!” The woman hissed lowly, dashing after her daughter. “What if Harry flips one day and decides to leave you tied to the bed? Who's going to find you, then? Ever think of that? Of course you don’t. You never think about the consequences of anything.”

“You and your crazy speculations…” The girl sighed, halted, and looked back to face her mom. “When have I ever said I was the one getting tied up in the first place?”

“You didn’t, but you’re certainly not… you couldn’t possibly…” Her words came out stammered, as she scrambled to make sense of what exactly Y/N was implying. “You’re not the one doing the tying, are you?”

In response, all Y/N did was raise her brows once and smirk slightly, before focusing her attention on the other side of the road. “Look mom, Sephora’s doing clearance sales on skincare.” She nipped suddenly, changing the subject. “Should we go have a look?”

“Y/N, answer me.” The mom insisted, body growing dull and distressed.

“I've been dying to try their new cleansers... oh, and perhaps a new moisturizer would be good too...” She carried on rambling to herself, skipping onto the crosswalk just as the pedestrian traffic light turned green.

Casting frustration upon her mother had felt incredibly satisfying at the time, but Y/N will admit there were times she’s regretted having been so blatant…

Numerous of those being on Easter evening.

“Stop staring at Harry like that, I bet you’re making him self-conscious.” Y/N hissed at her mother, once they were the only ones left in the kitchen doing dishes after dinner. Harry had been helping them, but he was made to leave halfway by Y/N’s little cousin, who wouldn’t stop nagging him to go play "Guess who?" with him.

“I wasn’t staring.” The mom hissed back, while she arranged the dirty cutlery in the washing machine. “With that said, if he’s feeling self-conscious it’s because he knows he’s guilty of something.”

“Guilty of what, exactly?” Y/N questioned, taking a hand to her waist.

“I don’t know, probably the unspeakable things you two do together.” She said, bending over the machine to add some more dishes. “I hope you two don't get any ideas tonight, because your bed creaks and we have guests at home.”

“Oh my god, you’re insufferable!” Y/N yelped, before picking up a pan from the sink and starting to scrub it - angrily and without a care about the screwing up the nonstick.

“And it comes from a place of worriment.” The mother said, pulling the dish sponge out of Y/N’s hand and turning it over – because God forbid someone would scratch her expensive, fancy pan by cleaning it with the rough side of the sponge. “Maybe if you told me more about your life I would stop prying.”

Y/N sighed. “I got a promotion the other day…” She said, in an effort to deflect the topic.

“Really? That’s wonderful, darling...” She smiled proudly at her daughter. “What kind of promotion was it?”

“The kind that gives you more headaches than money.” The daughter said, placing the washed pan on the dish drainer. “It's been... draining, and stressful, and I'm not even sure I'll enjoy this position as much as I did the previous one.”

The mom peeked at her over lowered glasses, clearly taken-aback by her daughter's lack of enthusiasm. “So what are you doing now at the company?”

Y/N huffed, picking up another pot from the sink. “I went from managing recruitments to being in charge of the HR department.” She said, what prompted her mom to let out a cheerful hum. “Which, I mean… I don't want to sound ungrateful… it’s nice that they asked me, but… I know they only did it ‘cause they didn't want to hire someone new for the position. So, basically they gave me a dry promotion, and hoped the ego boost would be enough to hold me over.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Her mom said, petting her back in consolation. “I’d say you should test it out for a little longer to see if you like it… and if you do, perhaps you can look for another company that is willing to pay more for the same job…” She smiled reassuringly, bidding her daughter into returning the gesture. “How about Harry? Is he still working at that gaming shop?”

“Mhm, he is.” Y/N smiled at the mention of Harry… she hoped he was having an okay time playing with her cousin. If she could bet, she’d say he was currently playing the fool and letting the little guy win all the rounds of "Guess who?".

“It’s a shame he didn’t get to go to college… he’s a smart kid. He could’ve landed a good job at a company like you did if he wanted to…” Y/N's mom said, although she didn't sound faultfinding, just… reflective.

“He doesn’t need to.” Y/N said instantly. “He likes working there, and we make plenty enough for the two of us.”

“Yes, but one day it won't be just the two of you, will it?” She reminded, playfully nudging Y/N’s shoulder.

“Even so, it would be fine. But that's not something for now either… we have enough in our plate as is… don't need shitty diapers on top.” The girl laughed when her mother slapped her arm for cursing. “I have to say though… I’m surprised by how much you want me and Harry to start a family…”

“What? Why?” The woman asked, taken aback. “Oh,” She blurted once she noticed Y/N’s suggesting look, waving the dishcloth in her hand dismissively. “I’ve always liked Harry... and I love you. I can tell the two of you are happy with each other, and that’s all a mom could really care about...” She paused, “And he helps with the house chores – I care about that too.”

By the time Y/N left the kitchen and reentered the living room, Harry and her cousin were no longer playing - the kid had flaked out on the couch and was now drooling onto one of her mom’s cushions. Beside him sat Harry, who was leaning against the arm of the couch, with his arms crossed over his chest. By the looks of it, he too wasn't far from catching some z's.

His heavy eyelids opened from startlement when he felt someone sit next to him, but once he realized it was Y/N he smiled contentedly, shifting on his bum just so his body was leaning against her shoulder instead. “Feelin’ okay?” Y/N asked, lovingly fixing a strand of hair behind his ear.

“Yeah, ‘m okay.” He straightened up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Just getting sleepy, I think.”

“Wanna go to bed?”

He nodded, before saying, “But I don’t mind waiting if you want to stay and chat with your family longer…”

“No, it’s all right. We can do that tomorrow, I’m a bit tired from the drive too and uh, miss you. Want to cuddle you.” Y/N said earnestly, getting up with a small huff and extending out a hand to help Harry get on his feet as well. Only, he was such a wobbly sleepy mess that she ended up having to drag him by the hand into her childhood bedroom, where the two of them spent the night.

“Babyy…” Y/N cooed lowly, “Baby, baby, baby…” She rehashed, laying soft kisses over Harry’s cheek in between words. It was now the next morning - 10am to be precise - and Harry was still blissfully asleep, unphased by the commotion happening outside the bedroom walls, with everyone talking loudly in the kitchen while having breakfast.

Or so Y/N thought, until he spoke against his pillow. “If you keep giving me kisses ‘m never going to want to get up,”

Y/N chuckled, playfully nipping his ear before letting go. “So you’ve been awake and ignoring me this entire time, have you?”

“Mhm…” Harry still mumbled sleepily against his pillowcase, before twisting on the bed to face his girlfriend. “Good mornin’,” He said, tipping his head forwards to get a kiss from her.

“Good morning,” Y/N murmured against his mouth, still kissing it.

“Wait,” Harry mewled once she tried to pull away, unwilling to let go so soon. “I haven’t finished saying ‘Good morning’ yet…” He said, as his lips tentatively began to move down her neck, towards her cleavage. He tried to draw her shirt down by the neckline, just so his mouth could reach her nipples.

“No puppy, you’re going to turn yourself on…” Y/N scolded, while gently tugging the fabric back up. “We can’t do naughty stuff here. This bed is way too noisy… and so are you, you’re a noisy little thing.”

“I can be quiet…” Harry promised, making pretty eyes at her.

“Or… you can be patient and wait until we’re back home.” She retorted, as her finger reached up to tick his nose playfully. Harry’s hand grasped around her wrist before it could pull away, and gently he guided her fingers towards his mouth. He kissed them all over, before finally taking them inside.

Arousal ran down Y/N’s body at the filthy sight… and the feeling of warm, wet suction confining her skin. It moved up and down. Over and over, until Harry’s lips pulled off and he hesitantly guided her hand to rest over his belly instead.

Then, slowly, he steered it the rest of the way down… until it reached his erection. They both gasped at her contact, “It’s for you...” Harry mumbled, knowing how much it turned his girlfriend on when he got vocal about her owning him.

Y/N shouldn’t let this get to her… in her head she had already decided she was going to make him wait… because this was a bad idea! It was wanton for them to be doing it at her parents' house. They hadn't even locked the door… what if someone accidentally opened it by mistake? Also, the walls in this house were thin… and Harry always got loud - especially when he said he wouldn’t. Not to mention that by doing this, Y/N was only giving her mother reasons for warning her not to have any ideas... So why was her hand rubbing-down?

“This hard just for me?” She whisper-asked, Harry nodded. “Are you going to be good if I take care of it? Do everything I say and stay nice and quiet?”

“Anything- fuck, anything you want.”

“That’s a good boy. A good, pretty boy.” Y/N pulled her hand from between his legs, making use of it to clutch his jaw instead. “Take your pants off and get down on the carpet for me, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Harry nodded, unable to say much with her hand still squeezing his cheeks. She leaned over to kiss him, soft and slow before she pulled away with a final peck and got off the bed.

The pajama pants she was wearing got tugged down her legs, along with her underwear. Harry did the same, getting up to undress himself before he sat on the floor beside the bed, like she’d told him to.

“Lay down, baby.” Y/N instructed, waiting for Harry to get comfortable before she crouched over him, straddling his face. “Lick it,” She requested, “Get it nice and wet for your greedy cock.”

Harry whimpered cravingly in response, tilting his chin up and licking upwards to smear the wetness forming on her hole over to her clit. “Mmm” He moaned once he felt her hips beginning to rock against his nose, but luckily his moan came out muffled. His lips latched around her clit, sucking it repeatedly until her legs began to shudder around his head from the stimulation.

Harry was hungry for it, she could tell by the way he was lapping at her folds like she was pouring sugar on his tongue.

His hands were clasped onto her ass, pulling her cheeks slightly apart just so her pussy was spread too.

Y/N would spend hours riding Harry's face if she could, but she wanted to take care of him too... and they also needed to hurry the fuck up before people started getting suspicious of their absence. “That’s enough, puppy.” She stated, propping her knees on the floor just so she could scoot back. “You were very good,” She praised, sorting a few sticky hairs away from his face. “But I want to put you in now, is that okay?”

“Yes, yes… please fuck me.” Harry pleaded, although his words got cut off by Y/N - who rushed to cover his mouth with her hand.

“Quiet.” She whispered as she adjusted herself over his lap, using one hand to guide his erection inside while the other remained curled over his mouth to keep him silent. “This dick is such a hassle… always getting hard, always feeling needy.” She huffed, as she slowly sank on it. “I would put it in a cage if I didn’t think I’d miss it so much…”

“Mmmm.” Harry moaned, his voice muffled by her hand.

The seldom noises inside the bedroom were lewd as she rode him, sounding hushed and wet from how slippery Y/N was between her legs. “You know, I think I might like you better this way… Still. Quiet. No whimpers, no pleas… just taking me like a good boy.”

He moaned louder at her words, shaking his head frantically. “Shh… too loud, puppy. Are you trying to get people to hear us?” His cheeks blushed, eyes glinting from arousal. “Shit… you actually like that idea, don’t you? Do you want them to hear you...? Want them to know how much of a desperate little sub you are for me…?”

Harry nodded once again, unable to stop his hips from bucking up with the excitement, “Yes, you do…” Y/N teased softly, removing her hand from his mouth for moment, “Say it out loud. Right now.”

He inhaled deeply. Puffy lips parting in a gasp before they contorted into a gorgeous, wicked smile. “I’m your desperate little sub and it turns me on that people know.”

#subrry #sub!harry #sub harry #sub harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine

624 notes · View notes

hansolmates · 3 years

Text

shiver | 01 (m)

banner done by the wonderful @dnrequests

summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.”

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not.

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had.

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good.

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin.

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.”

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up.

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.

“Know what?”

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around.

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings. Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become.

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly.

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him.

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.”

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university.

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting.

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.”

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.”

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you.

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?”

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information.

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.”

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist.

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years?

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.”

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits.

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away.

“P-please, Jungkook…”

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?”

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected.

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come.

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed.

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year.

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew.

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore.

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world.

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.”

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder.

#ficswithluv #btsguild #btswritingcafe #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic #jungkook angst #bts angst #kpop fic #hansolmates

1K notes · View notes

wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Might be some mild language.

Chapter 2

* * * * * * *

“Oh no one is judging you ya big doofus.” You trail a finger along the shiny metal surface, looking at your tinted and distorted reflection.“ Just think it’s a little unnecessary.” Looking up at Tony, you smile.

His brown eyes roll, a hand grabbing onto the roof of the sports car to assist in pulling himself out.“ There’s nothing unnecessary about having options.”

A snort of a laugh falls from your lips as you walk to the next car.“ Yeah sure. If that’s what you want to call this.”

“Half of these aren’t even mine.” He defends himself, hanging the keys up along with the other sets.

Pursing your lips you point to the car you’re in front of,“ who does this belong to then?”

“Natasha.” He answers, taking far too much delight in the way your challengingly cocky attitude drops.

So you decided to hang out for a while, see a couple floors and let Tony explain some things to you as he liked to do, then head home. But you’d found a reason to stick around. Or, better put, Tony found reasons for you to stick around.

You’d go to a floor, take in the sights, the tech, and listen to the man ramble on about the functionality of the floor. Around floor five you were ready to head out but Tony claimed you couldn’t see the medical floor and not go to the labs. And you couldn’t see the labs without seeing his workshop.

This reasoning went on and on until you found yourself in the garage. The sun had set a few hours ago, lights automatically flicked on inside the tower and the seemingly day to day sounds of the tower went away.

It’s quiet now, save for you and Tony talking and him occasionally starting up the cars.

You can’t lie and say you don’t enjoy hanging out with Tony. You’d always enjoyed your time with him, his actions and ideas unpredictable and so genius from the moment he learned to talk. But you also can’t lie and say you weren’t getting tired. A low, dull, rumbling started in your stomach not too long ago from the lack of food since this morning.

Making a bit of a show of looking at the last car, a sleep silver Audi that you know belongs to Tony, you check out the interior and make comments on the exterior. Then over exaggeratedly, you yawn and stretch your arms out.

“Alright T. It’s gettin late. Think it’s about time I head home.” You tell him, walking over and gently dropping your hand onto his shoulder.

He chuckles softly,“ Y/n, what kind of friend would I be if I let you go all the way back to Brooklyn while you’re tired and clearly hungry?” He pats your hand on his shoulder,“ you know Maria didn’t raise me that way.”

It takes every ounce of willpower to not toss him somewhere so you could leave. But you know it’s been some time since you and Tony actually hung out and while he definitely has some ulterior motive to this, his persistence gave it away, you oblige him. Your reasoning is that you know the food will be good.

What you aren’t expecting, however, is to find the entirety of the Avengers sitting around the living room on the main floor. Unlike the other floors that were quiet, a low chatter fills the space and a clanking of cutlery to ceramic plates.

With Tony’s arm around your shoulders, you’re guided to the tables lined with food that looks delicious. Tony obviously has some private chefs around here.

“Um, am I crashing some type of party or bonding time?” You ask him as he starts to pile food onto his plate.

“No,” he smacks his lips and waves you off,“ not really. We just eat together. Cap says it strengthens the team and all and I pay for the food so everyone comes. I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you.” With an almost devilish smile, he puts a bread roll on his plate and turns away.

Your narrowed eyes follow his retreating form. Sighing and shaking your head, you grab a plate, put a little of everything on it, then head over to the unoccupied bar.

Before you sit down to eat, you grab one of Tony’s expensive bottles of liquor off the top shelf. Pouring yourself a glass, you walk around the bar, catching the eyes of a couple members of the team before you sit down.

As you eat and drink, the laughter and banter of the team behind you erasing the silence of the room, you can’t help but remember the numerous times you’d had the privilege of being around your friends like that.

* * * * Flashback * * * *

With a friendly smile you push your chair out and stand up, walking over to the kitchen doorway. Reaching forward you grab the glass dish from the woman’s hands.

“Careful it’s-”

You nod and smile,“ I know. I’m fine.”

Marie’s eyes squint at you and she nods in understanding as she remembers. Patting your arm she turns back to the kitchen right before Jarvis comes out and follows you to the table.

Whispering a quiet ‘excuse me’ to Ana, you reach around her to place the dish on the table, then refind your seat across from her. The second your butt touches the seat two sets of eyes are on you.

“Y/n please tell this buffoon how ludicrous his invention sounds.” The angelically accented voice of your close friends says. You swear you can feel her gaze burning into your temple.

You look over at her, opening your mouth to speak when Howard cuts in.

“No Y/nn, tell Margaret that this is genius. It’s revolutionary!” He exclaims and your eyes widen a little.

Face morphing into an expression of offense, Peggy turns to look at Howard and they start bickering again.

Smiling amusedly, you lean back into the chair, making eye contact with Jarvis’ wife An from across the table.

Both of you shake your heads, An chuckling softly just before Jarvis comes to sit beside her.

“Howard,” the man looks up at the stern but sweet tone of his wife.“ That’s enough honey.” She gives a smile that matches the sweetness of her tone.

The Brit beside you snickers and you lightly smack the side of her leg with the bag of your hand, muttering a quiet,“ relax.” Which results in her huffing and crossing her arms, sending a glare at Howard that she fixes just as Marie sits down across from her.

Despite having been bickering since long before now, the Agent and Philanthropist waste no time in playing nice over dinner. Alongside them, Marie, An, Jarvis, and yourself have one of many very entertaining dinners. Laughs exchanged between all of you.

* * * * Flashback End * * * *

You’re yanked from the memory when a heavy weight lands on your shoulder.

Tensing up, you prepare yourself to fight whoever it is but you quickly remember that you’re in the Avengers tower with earth’s mightiest heroes. The chances of this being an attack are slim.

Still slightly tense, you look over your shoulder at the owner of the hand on your body. To find America’s golden boy looking down at you.

“Everything alright?” He asks, seemingly concerned. .

You give him a small smile and chuckle softly,“ all good Captain.” You give a playfully mocking salute and he sighs instantly afterwards.

Walking around the bar, he leans on top of it with his fingers laced in front of him.“ Listen I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did on the jet earlier.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You take a bite of your food, staying silent until you swallow, then sipping your drink.“ We’re good. I know my unexpected bombing was, well, unexpected.” He chuckles lightly at your words and shakes his head.

When he reaches up to almost nervously rub the back of his neck, you know he isn’t completely sure that everything is good.

“Have a drink with me Cap.” You tell him, nodding to the shelf of alcohol behind him.

Looking from you to the drinks, he nods.“ You can call me Steve.” He tells you, putting some ice in his glass then pouring his drink.

“Well Steve,” you raise your glass to him and he gently taps his against yours.“ Feel free to call me Y/n.” You tell him, sipping your drink.

He smiles softly at you, your invitation seemingly having done the job of calming his nerves slightly. Light conversation flows between the two of you, a back and forth of questions that answers don’t hold much consequence but still shed some light on the types of people yourself and Steve are.

By the time the sun has disappeared beyond the horizon and the sky is littered with stars and the lights of every skyscraper you and Steve are well through one of Tony’s more expensive bottles of liquor. Loud laughs sound from the two of you as you joke with one another.

While the alcohol doesn’t affect either of your systems as it would someone else, the other occupants of the living space would assume you were drunk.

It intrigued more than a few of them how loose and easy going Steve is. It wasn’t as if he never had fun with them or drank, but there seemed to be something about you that brought an even lighter aura to the older man.

“It was incredible. I’m telling you,” you shake your head with a small smile of excitement.“ I wasn’t inclined to be excited about it since I was there to see the Yankees kick ass, but the Dodgers played exceptionally well.”

Steve has a small smirk on his face, nodding approvingly as he sips his drink.“ Well I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Once again you laugh, finishing your drink and leaning off of the bar top.“ Ever proud, Mister America.” You say teasingly, bringing yet another laugh from the tall blonde.

He finishes off his drink and you take a deep breath and release it.“ Welp Cap,” pushing up out of your chair, you smile at him,“ it was a pleasure chatting with you. Ever want to talk about the good ole days-”

“I’ll give you a ring.” He holds his hand out to you and you shake it firmly.

As you take up the glasses and your plate you nod a goodbye to Steve and go your separate ways, you to the kitchen and Steve to the elevators.

Setting the dishes in the sink, you turn the water on and lean against the counter as you wait for it to get hot. Just before your mind can begin to wander you catch sight of movement in your peripherals.

A smirk almost instantly pulls onto your face at the sight of the red head walking in. Her green eyes are already trained on you with a look in them that you can’t describe.

“Agent Romanoff,” you nod to her, smirk still in place.

She takes small purposeful steps closer, stopping a few feet away from you,“ you lied to us. Member of SHIELD for a while?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head with an overly sweet smirk,“ you founded SHIELD.”

You hiss in a breath of air through your teeth, turning to face away from her as you chuckle.“ I didn’t lie, actually. Withholding all of the truth is a different thing.” Drying the plates off, you set them on the rack to dry, the forks and cups following afterwards.“ And let’s make something very clear, I am not a founder of SHIELD.” You dry your hands and turn to her.

“Really? Cause SHIELD records say otherwise” She reasons, stepping closer.

Eyebrows raising at her further approach, you do the same. You smile softly at her and close the distance between you two, leaving just under a foot of space.“ I understand you aren’t happy with the redacted details of my history Agent Romanoff so let me clear it up for you.”

Natasha tilts her head at your words and listens intently as you continue.“ I didn’t found SHIELD. I was the first ever agent. Agent Carter and Howard Stark saved me and administered me an enhanced version of the same serum Steve took. I owed them my life and I made sure to protect them,” you falter at that, jaw clenching as a horrible memory flashes through your mind.

“That’s how you met Tony?” She asks. It wasn’t missed by Natasha. The ex-assassin could read anyone. The second she noticed the distant look in your eyes she knew something was wrong and while she was curious, something told her not to ask about that.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and look at her.“ Was in the hospital the night he was born. Watched him grow up.” You smile fondly,“ he’s family.”

For a moment it’s quiet. Still you watch Natasha, unsure if she’s finished or not. Just when you think she’s done, you nod and head towards the door, only to stop when she speaks.

“Why did you come for us?”

Turning from the door, you look over your shoulder at her,“ I owed Nick a favor.”

Her eyes narrow at you and you give a small nod before leaving out.

Neither you or Natasha would’ve guessed that would be your last conversation for the span of the next week. While you were at the tower a few times, to drop off something you’d talked about with Steve or pick up Tony before the two of you went and hung out somewhere, you hadn’t gone inside.

She wouldn’t admit it to you but Natasha had started to wonder when you’d come back. Not only does your reputation precede itself, something about your personality intrigues her more than she’d ever been before. She wanted to see you again, talk to you again.

Green eyes look through the clear blue glass, brows slightly pinched together at the sight of you and Tony hugging. Natasha debated with herself whether or not she was going to go speak to you as Steve jogged out of the front doors and over to you, sharing a handshake and a hug.

The last thing the ex-assassin expects to feel is the little flutter in her stomach when you smile brightly.

She tears her gaze away from you, frown deeper than before. Her thoughts running a mile a minute.

When a weight drops onto her shoulder she almost flinches. Grabbing the hand on her, she twists it and forces the person to stand in front of her, slamming them into the window.

“Well damn.” You curse, using your hand on the window to push yourself off the window. A chuckle falls from your lips as Natasha let’s you go.“ Guess it wasn’t a good idea to approach a trained agent without speaking.” You say jokingly, green eyes snapping down to the smile on your lips and back up.

There’s an incredibly short pause from Natasha before she channels her usually straight expression.“ What’d you want Y/Ln?”

“How bout a smile Romanoff.” When a beat passes without her expression changing you sigh.“ I want a cup of coffee. And I want you to come get one with me.”

“Come again?” Her expression cracks slightly as her eyebrows raise slightly.

You tilt your head and smile softly at her.“ You were practically shooting lasers at me through the window. Figured either you wanted to get out of the tower or you were jealous Tony and Steve were taking up all my time.” A teasing tone wraps around all your words and Natasha instantly scoffs.

“I have no reason to be jealous of Stark or Rogers.” She says and you nod.

“I figured as much. Which means you want to get out of the tower.” You nod for her to follow you.“ Cup of coffee does everyone some good.”

Natasha watches the confident stride you make towards the door, not once looking back as you just know she’s going to follow. And she does, despite her pride telling her not to.

The coffee shop isn’t too far away from the tower so you walk. Unlike your walks with Steve, it’s silent. The redhead stays two steps behind you, not saying a word as she follows.

A burst of cool air rushes past the two of you with your first step into the coffee shop to the sound of the bell jingling above you. Smiling softly at the familiar building you walk further in.

Natasha takes into account that there are no more than ten customers inside. For a New York coffee shop it was incredibly quiet and quaint.

“Love it here,” she hears you mumble as you step up to the counter.“ Hi, can I get one medium black coffee and a large iced coffee with two creams and two sugars.” The woman rings you up and you pay. Pocketing your wallet as you turn to face Natasha.

You smile at her lack of emotion. There is no reason for you to be as grumpy and blank as she is.“ I’ve been to a lot of places but here, they have the best coffee.” You tell her.

Her head tilts slightly and you purse your lips and nod. Once again it’s silent as you wait, then you grab the coffees when your name is called, turning to hand the black coffee to Natasha.

With things going the way they are, you have an internal battle on staying here or just going back to the tower. Taking one last chance, you nod to an empty table and sit down. Natasha coming over and sitting as well.

“Look, Natasha, you can’t hate me so much that we can’t even have a coffee together.” Your tone of voice is one of confusion and slight sadness.

Frowning once again at the emotions in your voice, Natasha watches you. Green, calculating eyes and a blank expression are the only signs of how hard she’s thinking right now.

With a huff of a sigh she says,“ I don’t hate you.” She admits, face finally giving way to emotion.“ I- I barely know you.”

“Well maybe we should change that.” Holding up your cup of coffee you take a sip and tell her,“ I think if you give me a chance, I might not be as bad as you think.”

Her eyes narrow and for the first time ever, you see her crack the smallest of smiles.“ We’ll see about that.”

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #moment in time #reader insert

220 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Language

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

@redpoodlern requested more Dad!Creeper and honestly I was more than happy to deliver on that haha. And thank you to @garbinge for always helping me pull together all of my ideas!

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, Creeper being a big ol’ softie with his kiddos

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This definitely takes place in the same universe as Like Father, Like Son because I’m a big fan of the family dynamic that I was sort of starting to build there. If no one has any objections that’s probably going to be my default HC for my future Dad!Creeper fics unless stated otherwise haha. I just love the idea of him with a pack of kids.

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @shadow-of-wonder @petlaufeyson @crowfootwrites @punkgoddess-98 (If you want to be added to my taglist, just let me know!)

The kids had one week off from school. One week. Seven days. Technically only five if you weren’t counting the weekend. You didn’t want to take the entire week off of work when you would be out on maternity leave in a couple more months, and as much as Creeper wanted you to be taking it easy, he said that if you really wanted save your time off for your leave, he would gladly keep the kids with him for the week.

“You and the guys can’t be doing,” you glanced around to make sure the kids weren’t in the room, “You and the guys can’t be doing serious club shit while they’re there, okay?” you knew that Creeper was always careful, but you also knew that some of the other men in the MC with him weren’t quite as cautious.

“Never, mama,” he leaned in and kissed your cheek, “Don’t worry. We’ll hold it down. It’s been a while since they got some time with their uncles, anyway.”

“Alright,” you nodded, taking a deep breath, “Go round up the gremlins, then,” you laughed, “They should each have their backpack with stuff in it.”

“Givin’ ‘em homework on their week off?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “No, no. Just stuff to do if they get bored at the clubhouse. Coloring books, matchbox cars, whatever else they can fit in there.”

“Pfft,” he shook his head, “like we’ll ever let them get bored,” he let out a whistle, “Let’s go, homies! Time to roll out.”

Their footsteps thundered through the house as all three if them came booking it down the hall, each with their backpacks either on their shoulders or dangling from their hands. Both you and Creeper laughed at how excited they were to spend some time with their dad and their entire squad of uncles at the clubhouse.

“Which car you taking, baby?” you asked him.

“Just figured I’d take the van. It’s got all their stuff in it already.”

You smiled, nodding as you grabbed the keys off the counter and tossed them to him, “Alright, no doing donuts with it.”

He chuckled, “If they ask I won’t be able to tell them no,” he was about to say something else when his phone started going off in the pocket of his kutte. He reached and took it out, brows furrowing slightly as he answered, “Yea? Yea I’m about to head out. We’ll talk about it when I get there,” he shook his head slightly, “Alright yea,” with a huff he hung up the phone.

“All good?” you arched one eyebrow.

He nodded, “Yea. They act like I’m not gonna see them in twenty minutes. What the fuck is that important that it can’t wait?”

You shot him a glare, “Neron! Language, please.”

“Shit, sorry.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He smiled sheepishly, stepping in close to give you a kiss, “I’m sorry, I love you, and I’ll call you later, mama.”

“Mhm,” you laughed as you playfully shoved him towards the door, “Tell the kids they gotta keep your boys in line.”

“They don’t even need me to tell ‘em.”

Very few things rivaled the excitement that the guys felt when they saw the minivan rolling into the scrapyard. Seconds after Creeper threw the van in park, all of the kids came sprinting out. His son leapt out of the passenger seat as his little sisters came tumbling out the back. It was quite the scene watching them walk up with their father, looking like quite the entourage all together.

“Wifey let you take the real whip today, huh?” Angel said with a laugh as he pulled Creeper into a hug.

He chuckled, “Anything for the wolfpack,” Creeper watched as his kids made their rounds to say hi and hug each of the men that were outside the clubhouse waiting for them to arrive.

Angel looked over at the minivan, “Still can’t believe she let you put those fuckin’ stickers on there, bro,” he laughed.

“Yo,” he smacked Angel in the chest, “No swearin’ in front of the kids,” he paused, “What do you got against the stickers? I think they’re cool.”

“Guess I just never thought that your soccer mom van needed fake bullet holes.”

“That’s what keeps it from being a soccer mom van,” he tapped the side of his head with a knowing look, like he had cracked some sort of code.

“Right,” Angel laughed and shook his head before turning his attention to the kids, “Brandon! Get over here! Let’s see if you’re taller than me yet, dude.”

Creeper turned and saw that the twins were already trying to take Hank down to the ground—a goal that they’d had ever since they were little toddlers. Every time they saw him, they got closer and closer to being successful but they weren’t quite there yet. He had one hanging off of each arm as he tried to walk across the yard without falling over onto them. Creeper laughed as he watched the shenanigans unfold, and they’d only been there for about two minutes.

“Alex! Ava!” he shook his head slightly with a smile, “Give Uncle Hank a break, alright? The man has work to do.”

“They’ll be taking him to the ground soon enough, man,” EZ laughed as he let Hank struggle with the two little girls.

“Make sure you’re filming it,” Creeper responded with a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“How’s Y/N?” EZ asked.

“Pregnant,” he looked over at EZ and laughed, “Nah she’s good. Working this week, so we got some extra help around here.”

“She’s still working?”

He nodded, “Oh yea. She’ll work till the baby pops outta her,” he shook his head, “I don’t know how she fu—” he caught himself, “I got no clue how she does it, man.”

“Pregnancy one of those things you get better at the more you do it?”

He laughed, “Why don’t you ask her next time you see her?”

“Hard pass,” he shook his head, laughing.

Creeper was glad that he had an entire team of guys to help him try to tire them all out, because it wasn’t an easy task in the slightest. At one point he was fairly certain that he lost them in the depths of the scrapyard and when he did finally find them, they were running around and playing hide and seek where all the scrapped cars were kept. The only thing that kept him from having a heart attack at the sight of it was knowing that none of the cars had any glass left in them that the kids could cut themselves on. But the three of them had easily turned the scrapyard into their kingdom.

“C’mon, lunch time,” he called out to them and they all hesitated, not quite ready to give up the game. Creeper sighed, “Chucky made lunch for you guys.”

That was all it took. Their eyes lit up and the girls almost pushed their brother to the ground in an attempt to beat him back to the clubhouse. Creeper shook his head as he followed them, egging them all on.

“C’mon, B-Dawg, use those legs!” he called after his son with a laugh.

“Knees to chest, Brandon!” Angel joined in as he watched the three of them race up the steps of the clubhouse.

Soon enough, the three of them were all sat at one of the tables inside the clubhouse. Chucky beamed at them, “The Vargas Trio,” he brought their plates over, “I hear you’re keeping us company for the week.”

“Dad said we get to come every day,” Ava said as she shoveled a spoonful of food into her mouth.

“Eat first, then talk, lil mama,” Creeper chastised her with a small smile as he shook his head.

Creeper sat at the table with them, casually drinking his beer as he watched the three of them tuck into the lunch that Chucky had made for them. He knew that Chucky loved when the kids were around—he became the ultimate chef and babysitter once those kids set foot on the property. There wasn’t a single thing that he wouldn’t do for those kids and Creeper could tell just by the way that Chucky seemed so at peace as he watched them sitting around the table together.

“What d’you guys say?” he asked them as he nodded towards Chucky.

“Thank you, Uncle Chucky,” they all said in unison.

The warmest of smiles spread across Chucky’s face as he nodded, “The pleasure is all mine.”

By late in the afternoon, the kids were finally starting to run out of steam. The girls were sprawled out on the floor of the clubhouse, art supplies strewn everywhere as they worked through entire sketchbooks’ worth of paper with Chucky. Brandon had been lurking at a safe distance as he watched some of the guys work in the scrapyard. The idea of breaking things apart was intriguing for many reasons to an eight-year-old boy, but he always listened if one of the men said to back up or not touch something. Every now and then, though, Creeper would let him take a crack at something with the hammer and the excitement on his son’s face was contagious.

The two of them walked back into the clubhouse to get a couple water bottles for themselves and the rest of the guys outside. Creeper was behind the bar, handing them over to his son while also trying to get a good look at what Alex and Ava were up to with Chucky. He smiled at the way the three of them seemed to exist so peacefully together. He hoped that the twins would always get along as well as they seemed to so far.

There was the quiet snapping sound of a pencil point breaking, followed by Alex tossing it to the side and huffing, “Fuck that.”

The entire clubhouse fell silent. Creeper’s eyes went wide as his jaw dropped slightly and Chucky looked over to him, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say or do. Creeper set one last water bottle down on the surface of the bar before addressing the issue.

“Alex? You good, babygirl?”

“It’s like the bazillionth time my pencil has broken.”

He wanted to be amused but he knew that you’d kill him for not talking about the whole language issue, “Alright. I hear you. But…but you can’t be talkin’ like that. Where’d you even hear that, anyway?”

“You,” all three of his kids replied in unison.

He exhaled sharply through his nose as he pressed his lips together into a thin line, trying to figure out what the right way to go about this was, “Look,” he waved for his son to follow him as he walked over to his daughters, “You can’t be talkin’ like that, okay? Those are grownup words. Whatever you do,” he rested his hand on her shoulder gently, “Don’t say that in front of Mommy,” he looked amongst the three of them, “And if it slips, you tell her that Uncle Angel taught you that, alright?” they all nodded and he let out a tiny sigh of relief, “Good. Okay.”

That was the last thing he said about it as he nudged Brandon’s shoulder and they went back to collect up the water bottles and bring them outside. The girls went back to their drawings and Chucky decided that there was nothing left to do but follow suit.

“Uncle Chucky?” Alex asked without looking up from her paper.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why don’t you talk like they do?” she continued to fill in the cartoon coloring page, “Daddy says they’re grownup words but I never hear you saying them.”

“Speaking like a grownup doesn’t interest me in the slightest,” he smiled at her before returning to his own paper.

It was a week filled with antics. The clubhouse was covered in coloring pages of every cartoon and Disney character you could possibly think of. All of the guys had gotten their nails painted by the twins at least once. Brandon got his own Romero Brothers work-shirt and now he never wanted to take it off. Every single member of the MC was tired in a way they never remembered being tired before. Nap time was something that everyone partook in, even the adults, because they all needed the rest.

You took a half day on Friday so you could spend some time with all of them at the clubhouse. You liked seeing the kids running around having a good time with the guys, and truthfully you missed the nights you’d stay late with Creeper there. Late-night partying hadn’t been something the two of you had done in a long time, but none of that compared to the sense of joy you felt as you heard your daughters very intensely explaining the entire plot of both Frozen movies to EZ, who sat and nodded along, a very serious look on his face.

You smiled, making your rounds to say hello to the guys before you made your way over to Creeper who was sitting at the bar. He smiled, standing up to place a kiss to your lips and then to your belly before offering you his seat. You took it without hesitation, always happy to be off your feet for a few minutes.

“How’s the week been?” you asked as you glanced around the clubhouse.

He nodded, “Good. The guys will be sleeping for a week straight once the kids go back to school,” he laughed.

You smiled, nodding, “I bet.”

“It’s been nice having them here. Keeps things from getting to serious.”

“Yea,” you chuckled, “I’d imagine that it’s a bit harder to have a serious argument when all of your tables are covered in drawings of Olaf and Moana, and everyone’s nails are painted hot pink.”

“I kinda like it,” he held his hand out for you to inspect, “But I think purple is more my color.”

You laugh, nodding, “Oh, for sure, baby.”

The two of you were chatting when all of a sudden you heard a series of thuds, followed by Ava softly, but very clearly, saying, “Fuck,” as she rubbed her skinned knee.

You looked over at your husband, staring daggers, “Neron, I swear to god if—”

“It wasn’t me, mama, I swear,” he held his hands up in surrender.

With a sigh you rose up from the stool and made your way over to your daughter. You looked at her knee—it was scraped but it wasn’t bleeding. She also wasn’t crying which was a good sign. You asked if she was alright and when she said yes, you asked your follow-up question, “Where’d you hear that word, sweetie? Because those aren’t words that you should be using.”

Creeper held his breath as he waited for her to respond. Ava looked at you, and with no hesitation she responded, “Uncle Angel.”

You whipped your head to look at the biker in question. His eyes were as wide as you’d ever seen them. He tried to sputter out a denial, some kind of defense, but he couldn’t string the words together. He couldn’t believe that he’d just been thrown under the bus like that, especially by the girl who not even an hour beforehand said that he was her favorite uncle.

Calmly, you rose to your feet and smoothed out your dress. Creeper recognized the look in your eye and he knew that Angel was in for it. He felt bad, but not bad enough to step in and tell you the truth of the matter. It was a little deal in the grand scheme of things, really.

“Baby,” Creeper called after you, “Baby I can handle—”

“It’s fine, Neron,” your tone was dangerously even, “I just wanna talk to Uncle Angel for a minute.”

He knew that that meant you did not want to talk, “Mama, really—”

“Bring the kids outside, please. We gotta start heading home anyway.”

At that point he knew that he wasn’t going to convince you. He scooped Alex in one arm and Ava in the other, “Alright, let’s go, babygirls,” he nudged Brandon gently towards the door, “C’mon, lil homie, let’s pack the car up.”

Once the clubhouse door shut behind them, you turned your full attention to Angel. You picked up a stray coloring book and rolled it the same way you would a newspaper, and smacked him with it, “Angel Reyes!”

“Ah,” he held his arms to block your swings, “Y/N, hear me out!”

“You will not,” you smacked him again, “be teaching my six-year-olds how to cuss,” you hit him with the book once more for good measure, “Got it? Pregnant or not I will beat your ass.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay. Sorry, querida. Didn’t realize that they picked things up so quick.”

You pointed the rolled up coloring book at him accusingly, “Better start realizing it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded.

You looked at him for a few seconds before giving a nod of approval and dropping the book back onto the table, “Good. Alright then,” you stood on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Glad we’re on the same page. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he shook his head slightly as he followed you out of the clubhouse.

He said goodbye to the three kids as they piled into the minivan before pulling Creeper to the side, “Why’d Ava snitch on me like that, bro?”

Creeper chuckled nervously, running his hand over his head, “About that. I…I might’ve told them to blame you if they slipped up in front of their mom.”

“What the fuck, Creep?”

“What? You tellin’ me you wouldn’t do the same shit?”

He paused for a moment before laughing, “Yea, probably. But still,” he gave him a light shove, “Messed up turning my own nieces and nephew against me like that.”

“Technically just turning their mom against you a little bit,” he chuckled.

“I feel like that’s worse.”

“It’s definitely worse,” Creeper clapped him on the shoulder, “Well. Better get ready. Next vacation is gonna be for the whole summer.”

Angel laughed as he hugged Creeper, “Can’t wait.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #creeper vargas #creeper vargas x reader #creeper vargas x you #creeper vargas fanfic #neron vargas #neron creeper vargas #my writing #drabblesmc #fanfiction

225 notes · View notes

kitsu-katsu · 3 years

Text

Why c!Wilbur blowing stuff up for shits and giggles as a child makes no sense for his character (and why that would reflect a lot more badly on c!Phil anyways if that were the case):

Warning: c!Phil critical ahead, if you don't like that, skip this post

Now, to those of you that decide to read this: Strap in folks! We've got a lot of ground to cover this from and a ton of quotes ahead!

1) Wilbur’s a pacifist through and through. He always preached words over weapons, only fought when attacked first, wanted to ignore a war until it went away, considered giving up his nation many times, etc. A few examples of quotes to show this thinking:

“Basically, we have such a lower opportunity here that we probably just need to accept the conditions of surrender, just so we can save any more bloodshed, any more destruction on our land. They’ve entrapped our land, they’ve set up bombs on our land, they’ve destroyed all our homes. To stop any more bloodshed, I feel I would be a bad general if I didn’t look for conditions of surrender.” - (Wilbur’s The Revolution is Coming: 30:32, 2nd Aug)

“Tommy, we need you alive. Tommy, this isn’t worth it. Tommy, your life is worth more than the revolution.” - (Wilbur’s The Revolution is Coming: 34:57:, 2nd Aug)

“What has made you do everything you’ve done up to this point?” (Quackity)

“That’s a- That’s a big question. Um. I guess it’s just protection for my people. I mean, I- I- I just want to see them thrive, and I want to see them safe.” (Alivebur)

- (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:03:02, 12th Apr)

“Look, do you know how long and how much blood was shed to get L’Manberg to the point it was at? You know what would happen if we manage to get L’Manberg back again? More blood would be shed, and we would be the illegitimate rulers of a nation.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 18:52)

“We don’t win wars with battles and with armour. We win wars with our words, Tommy. We’re starting a revolution, not a war.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 4:54, 29th July)

“I’m not a fighter, I’m a writer.” - (Wilbur’s The Wall: 1:48:31, 29th July)

“Fighting is not necessary right now, Tommy.” - (Wilbur’s the election results: 43:42, 22nd Sep)

“Tommy, control yourself. Tommy, control yourself, it’s not worth it. Tommy, do not take your shot! He disrespected me, yes! But we’ve talked about this, Tommy…!” - (Wilbur’s techno and wilbur make cave better: 59:36, 23rd Sep)

2) The reason his thoughts about blowing it all up in Pogtopia even hit as hard, the reason all his allies were so shocked about him going through with it IS his pacifism first mindset (which has only been put second when he’s been attacked first and put in the defensive or in the case of his speech to Quackity after the political debate he genuinely thought, by the previous failure of his philosophy and the war trauma spurred on mainly by the FCR and Eret’s betrayal, that the only way to truly win respect and make a change in the world was through fighting and killing, which he was convinced of but was ultimately always too soft to actually go through with (note how he doesn’t kill anyone in the L’manburg explosion and how in the times during Pogtopia in which he declared he wanted people dead, he got second thoughts, regrets, retracted his statement or protected people with his actions):

“If you want to really help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity. You can make a movement, you can make a resistance, right, you can go out and you can come back, and they’ll give you a ticker tape parade. They’ll cheer for you in the streets, but you will change nothing.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:42, 12th Apr)

“If you have a revolution, everyone will hate you, you will sacrifice everything, and you will lose everything you’ve ever had, but you’ll come back and everything will be changed.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:05:59, 12th Apr)

“And power isn’t gaining from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky, blah blah blah. It’s gained from swords, Quackity. It’s gained from blades, it’s gained from steel, iron.” - (Quackity’s Killing My Enemies: 1:06:19, 12th Apr)

“We blow up the entire fucking place to kingdom come. I want no survivors. God help whoever’s caught in the fucking crossfire.” - (Wilbur’s video, Am I The Villain?: 17:52)

“And, I know you’re scared, Tommy, I understand you’re scared. And it’s scary, it’s scary, Tommy, but do you know what? You know what? In a time like this, when a man has nothing to lose, do you know what that means? It means we can do what we want. We have a man on our side who literally rigged our nation with TNT. We can do the same to them. We can rig this festival with TNT. We can kill them all, Tommy. ” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:15:52, 8th Oct)

“Anyone caught in the crossfire is caught in the crossfire. That’s how it goes, you know? - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:41:22, 8th Oct)

“Chat, do I wanna- Chat, do I wanna, do I wanna do it? I’m having second thoughts about the TNT. Chat, I’m having second thoughts about the TNT. Do I wanna kill these people? Seeing that they’re my friends.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 34:09, 16th Oct)

“Tommy, I’m getting second thoughts. These are my friends, I don’t- Do I- I don’t know if I wanna [inaudible].” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 36:17, 16th Oct)

“Just, if you’re gonna kill anyone else, kill me. Don’t kill anyone else here.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:10:53, 16th Oct)

“You sounded like you were gonna murder another person. You sounded like you were gonna go for Niki.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:12:34, 16th Oct)

“Oh, yes, sorry, Niki, you missed that part. I was gonna blow up Manberg, I was gonna completely destroy it in a huge fireball. Look, Niki, come to Pogtopia, you’re safer here. You’re not gonna be hurt by anyone.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:17:59, 16th Oct)

“No you two can escape, I’ll be the… I’ll- I’ll- I’ll be… I’ll be trapped in here…” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:27, 17th Oct)

“I don’t, I don’t, I don’t want to kill you two. I don’t want you two to die.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:53, 17th Oct)

3) He was inspired by Dream blowing up L’manburg first with Eret’s betrayal during the first revolution. He knew Dream wanted L’manburg out of the picture and had tried it before. It’s why he knew to immediately ask him for TNT, because either way, Dream would benefit from both side’s mutually assured destruction:

“Here’s the plan, right, Dream. Dream is on our side, Dream has TNT, Dream has everything, right. I say we talk to Dream, and we ask him very nicely, very kindly, ‘Dream, give us all the TNT you have’. ” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:12:22, 8th Oct)

“Remember, how he rigged L’Manberg, like ages ago, during the War? And then he detonated the TNT and destroyed the entire thing? We do that again, everyone, we blow up the entire fucking place to kingdom come.” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:12:36, 8th Oct)

“The only reason that Dream is working with us, is because of the fact that we are the enemies of his enemies! That’s it! That’s all that joins this!” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:14:35, 8th Oct)

“Dream, let me be your vassal. Dream, I understand you have a lot of TNT, a lot of the ol’ trinitrotoluene in your possession, don’t you? You do! Dream, I want to be your vassal, I want to set this up, I want to rig the city.” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:33:27, 8th Oct)

4) Wilbur hesitated a LOT with the detonation, wanted to be stopped, told people his plan in detail and was overall in a deep internal conflict about the whole thing (and didn’t blow it up once to not kill Tommy and Quackity too, this is also the moment in which his suicidal tendencies are the most clear in his lines before the 16th). Ultimately he decided to do it because he was suicidal and deeply suffering from mental health issues, believed himself to be the root of all bad in the server and by extension, L’manburg was too, and by that point his original view for L’manburg had been so twisted by Schlatt anyway that in his POV it’d only be used to hurt more people anyway:

“I- Look, rigging L’Manberg is not gonna help us get it back, I’m aware of that. But sometimes in order to feel comfortable and safe you have to be ready to give up the things that you’re worried you might lose. And in this case, I think I might lose it already.” - (Wilbur’s who are you go away: 1:17:57, 8th Oct)

“I know there’s a lot of people, Tommy! … I’m not telling you where the button is, man. … Tommy, it’s over that hill, it’s over that hill, right there!” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 28:30, 16th Oct)

“Tommy, I’m getting second thoughts. These are my friends, I don’t- Do I- I don’t know if I wanna [inaudible].” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 36:17, 16th Oct)

“But this is the opportunity- this is the opportunity. If I don’t blow it up now, when am I gonna blow it up?! When am I gonna blow it up, Tommy? But when do- when do we do-” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 36:30, 16th Oct)

“If I don’t do it now, what happens if this is the only chance I get. Everyone’s in this close situation, I can do some proper damage. Look, this isn’t a- He needs a consequence for his actions, Schlatt does, he can’t just keep being handsome and powerful and strong all the time. He needs, he needs to be put down a peg.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 37:07, 16th Oct)

“I can still call off this whole detonating at the end of the speech, dude. I can call it off.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 38:24, 16th Oct)

“Should I show you where the TNT’s laced? ‘Cause in a, in a last ditch effort, we may need to destroy it by hand, okay? So, under the chair, where Schlatt sits, there’s about twenty pieces, right? And then going under, under the main area here, following this red line, there is TNT all the way, and then it jut- and then it- … It darts up here, and over to the dance floor, but it doesn’t touch the water.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 38:29, 16th Oct)

“I have to light it, I’ve got to light it, I’ve got to light it.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:08:17, 16th Oct)

“Yesterday I had the perfect opportunity to blow everything up and finally end it, you know. I had the perfect opportunity to finally blow up everything and end it and just completely save everyone, right, from the tyranny of Schlatt and the tyranny of the existence of Manberg and L’Manberg, right.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 25:17, 17th Oct)

“Explain it to me! Give me a reason! Give me a reason!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:50, 17th Oct)

“Who else is it gonna hurt?! It’s gonna hurt Schlatt, Manberg, and-” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:55, 17th Oct)

“Why did I bring- I should have just done it. I’m such a fucking showman. I should have just done it.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:18, 17th Oct)

“No you two can escape, I’ll be the… I’ll- I’ll- I’ll be… I’ll be trapped in here…” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:27, 17th Oct)

“I just- I just want to f… I just wanna end it, I wanna end it. I wanna press that button, man.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:08, 17th Oct)

“I don’t, I don’t, I don’t want to kill you two. I don’t want you two to die.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:53, 17th Oct)

“Ohh, fuck you! Fuck you, man! Why do you make it so hard?! I should have just- I’m such a fucking showman.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 29:29, 17th Oct)

“Tommy, we’ve tried my ideas. I’m willing to listen to you. I’m gonna follow you, Tommy. Whatever you think is gonna be the best way of taking down Schlatt, we’ll do it. We’ve tried my ideas.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 32:01, 17th Oct)

“My L’Manberg. My L’Manberg. As long- As long as I know the button is here… as long as I know. As long as I know the button is here. It’s just not today. I just need to know that it’s there for a fall-back. I need to know it’s there.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 33:46, 17th Oct)

“I’ve been hasty. But the fact that I know it’s there, and I can just stroke my right mouse button, that’s all I need. As long as I know it’s there.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 34:27, 17th Oct)

“You’ve convinced me, I don’t wanna go straight to Plan B, if Plan A fails.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 39:02, 17th Oct)

“Look, Tommy, at the end of the day, if this doesn’t go well, I’m gonna blow the place to smithereens. The place will be gone, I’m gonna detonate it and blow it to smithereens, right, if this doesn’t go well. But it will go well…! … ‘Cause it’s literally- there’s no one on Schlatt’s side.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 21:00, 16th Nov)

“But none of them have the same anticipatory love of what they’re doing, unlike us. Everyone on our side is fighting for something we’ve loved, and had for ages, right. That’s why we’re gonna win, and that’s why you shouldn’t be afraid. And yes, the whole place is rigged.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 21:38, 16th Nov)

“I could, I really could, that’s the thing. That’s the bit that I like. It’s the bit that makes me smile the most is the fact that I definitely could.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 26:28, 16th Nov)

“Chekhov’s Gun. Chekhov’s Gun. I’ll be honest with you, chat, I’ve been wondering this whole time if it still works. I’ve been thinking to myself does it still- ‘Cause I fixed it up for today.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:11:36, 16th Nov)

“Phil, I’m always so close to pressing this button, Phil! I have been here, like seven or eight times I have been here… Seven or eight times” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:14:56, 16th Nov)

“Phil, I’ve been here here so many times.” - (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:15:13, 16th Nov)

“I don’t even know if it works anymore, Phil. I don’t even know if the button works. I could, I could… press it, and it might-” (Wilbur’s smithereens: 1:15:29, 16th Nov)

5) The one time anything about Wilbur using TNT while young (and here the age isn't as clearly implied as in Phil's thing, this could very well be more of teen Wilbur than kid Wilbur) is mentioned in the actual text is this one maybe-canon-maybe-not-so-canon-anymore line:

“Tommy, have you heard of TNT duplication? The flying machines that dup TNT? Phil taught me about them. He taught me about them- I’m sure he wouldn’t have taught me them if he knew what I was gonna do with them. But, he did teach me about them. … They were very useful, in this.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 11:30, 16th Oct)

Now let’s pretend that headcanon makes any sense and that yeah, Wilbur totally just enjoyed building shit to detonate and said tendency encouraged in childhood just up and carried into adulthood and manifested as him internally going “I must blow up this thing I made because that’s what I do” and let’s pretend that he didn’t have a big ass internal conflict about it.

Ok, so Phil said that Wilbur blew stuff up when little, so he’d have connected it to the button room. Now think for a moment: How does that reflect on Phil as a parent? Let’s forget about everything else for this one moment (and believe me, I’ve got no shortage of stuff to critique c!Phil on in regards to his relation with c!Wilbur) and just focus on this one action. A man freely lets his son use TNT to blow up some random stuff presumably made out of toys. Just a little kid playing with TNT, yup, that’s his boy. And it was to such a degree that the same man just went “Oh yeah! It’s totally the blowing shit up thing!” in a fraction of a second after seeing the button… And then yeah, saw all of the hesitation, the breakdown, the struggle, the wishes to die and impaled him with a sword, but we can go deeper into those aspects in another post

Then Phil tried to make it better by saying to chat that all kids just break stuff apart, more implying that little Wilbur wasn’t actually using explosives which… makes the whole thing even dumber, ngl, because at that point c!Phil is just saying “Oh yeah, he knocked over his lego houses when he was four, so when I saw that button I immediately went ‘Oh, of course! He rigged the place! What an obvious connection!’”. You see what I’m getting at?

TLDR: It doesn’t fit with canon and even if we shove it in with its implications, then c!Phil is just an idiot, whether it be from letting his kid freely play with TNT to such a degree that he deduces where his most drastic measure resulting from trauma and breakdowns is going just by seeing the button OR whether it be from him connecting dots where there are none if he tries to save his skin as a father and just say “Oh yeah, no, who didn’t knock over stuff as a kid, what do you mean?” not realizing that… exactly… who didn’t…. so it wouldn’t connect with the button room at all

#dsmp #dream smp #c!phil critical #c!phil negativity #c!wilbur #c!wilbur analysis #wilbur dsmp #wilbur #wilbur soot #pogtopia #l'manburg #Can you sense my saltiness? I hope you can #Did Phil play with explosives as a kid too or was Doomsday just his way of feeling young?#Was he just feeling young and quirky so he decided to go destroy some livelihoods with the bestie?#c!Phil (derogatory)#man wait until I make yet another c!Phil is a bad father and was horrible to everything left of Wil's legacy post #I'm about to destroy a rp old man /hj #I hope you can see how this makes zero sense too #like from so many angles #and the retracting that didn't go all the way is just ???#And this all trickles in from the Dreaded Letters Retcon Stream (derogatory)#Like really if it weren't for those retcons back then this wouldn't have happened #Because then Phil wouldn't need some complicated backstory reason for knowing what the button did #If he had gotten at least SOME info about stuff going awry from Wilbur's letters #And hoooo boy do I have some words to say about the letters stream #Which I have said in posts but I might just remake some #tw suicide #tw suicide mention #tw suicide ideation

62 notes · View notes

vermillionflames · 3 years

Text

Fuegoleon x Female Y/N

Word Count: 2,020

Laundry Day

Summary: Captain Fuegoleon had a laundry room added to the Crimson Lion base to teach it's knights about chores and responsibilities. Y/N has never seen anyone use it, until one night her captain joins her for a wash.

Warnings: Semi / Public Sex, Fuegoleon being how he is, Talk of ballsacks, Cum, Adulthood Responsibilities

Having nice clothes was an unspoken rule of the Crimson Lions. No one left their rooms without looking their best, everyone even had silk robes for late night snack adventures around the base. However, those who lived at the base lacked certain resources they were accustomed to at home, maids, servants, and mamas to do their laundry. Could they have hired a few to help the hopeless royals and noble knights? Sure, but that wouldn’t bare them a lesson, so good ol’ Captain Fuegoleon had instead created a room full of ‘machines’ that would ‘wash their clothes.’ He had a very gaudy sign made for the door that had “laundry room” illustrated with too many frills, but what can we expect from a team that has Kings in their name. Nonetheless, most members went home often and took their washings with them. They’ll train day and night to put their life on the line for the kingdom, but god forbid they wash their own underwear, including the man who made the room. No one had ever seen him walking around the castle with a laundry basket on his hip.

But there were perks to this.

Y/N had the laundry room all to herself. She waited until late at night to spare herself the gossip of doing her own chores, but once everyone was settled into their dorms she made a beeline for the washers, adorning her robe so she could walk around if she felt like it and not get a “what are you doing up so late?” interrogation. Obviously no one else was in the room so she could use up as many machines as she wanted, taking time to sort out her delicate underwear and stained training clothes. A wicked idea crossed her mind. Y/N removed her robe and set it to the side, took over her silk pajama set and threw it into the delicate cycle, before putting her robe back on. Very little hid her from the world, but as far as she was concerned the “world” was asleep and wouldn’t dare to enter this room.

If she were a lady, which she was, she would just sit in and wait for the cycles to finish, but as the washers went through their cycles they made vibrations that just felt… good against her body. She leaned against it letting the vibrations help relax her sore arms and legs.

“Maybe if I lay down on all of them I’ll be able to get my whole body at the same time!”

Y/N turned her back to the machine, placing her palms on top in order to hoist herself up on top, but as she sat down she felt a different kind of relaxing vibration.

“I shouldn’t indulge in this behavior…. But no one is around to witness it…”

Y/N closed her eyes and allowed her body to relax while certain feelings went through her core. Her robe became looser as the cycle went on. Her eyes were closed and head was rolled back, but as she opened her mouth to let out a moan the door to the laundry room ripped open. Fast and quiet but it was enough for her to notice. Jerking her head up she saw her captain standing in the doorway, with a woven basket full of clothes in his arm.

She had a millisecond to cover herself from him.

“Cap-Captain! What are you doing here,” Y/N slammed her legs together while trying to close her robe.

He arched a brow at her, “Laundry, as one does in the laundry room… Why are you sitting on the machine?”

“I just… like the way it feels…” Idiot. Why would you say that?

Fuegoleon gave her the side eye while loading his own washer and added the soap like he’d been doing it for years. So pretty boy does his own laundry? Interesting. Y/N was still sitting on top of the washer, too scared of giving a free show if she moved.

“Are you going to sit on it until it’s done?”

“You know, it’s good for my sore muscles. Which I have because I’ve been training so hard!”

“Oh… well maybe I should try it too.”

Why was Captain Fuegoleon so… like this?

“Okay,” Y/N squeaked out and watched in horror as her captain climbed on top of the washing machine next to her, curiosity and excitement all over his face.

“I’m not sure I understand,” his eyes crossed in confusion as the vibes clearly did nothing for his ass and thighs.

So his balls aren’t big enough to touch the surface he sits on…

“Excuse me?”

Y/N’s face became very red, had she said that out loud?!

“You should try laying down on it!” She screeched out, motioning for him to use her lap as a pillow.

Fuegoleon’s eyes crossed, “You are absolutely right, Y/N! Thank you,” he moved his legs on top of the machine, resting his head on her thigh, which gave him a perfect very of her under breast.

“H-how’s that, Captain?”

“I can feel my muscles being stimulated! This is an amazing discovery, Y/N!”

“Thank you?”

“Oh! You should join me, come lay down next to me.”

Y/N looked down and the limited space on top of the machines.

“I’m not sure we will both fit, Captain.”

Fuegoleon followed her eyes, thinking.

“How about you lay on top of me and I rub your muscles, then we switch sides when your clothes are put in the dryer.”

Y/N felt something deep in her melt at the idea of getting a massage from her captain.

“O-okay.”

Fuegoleon lifted his head to give her room to remove herself. She stood on the ground, placed her hands on either side of his head and lifted herself on top of him. Hovering over him she remembered that she was naked under her robe, which was thin and now hanging off her body. She gulped and prayed he didn’t notice as she laid her body on top of his.

Without a word more, his hands went to her shoulders rubbing downwards in circular motions. It took everything in Y/N’s power to not moan whenever he stimulated a particularly sore part. It didn’t help that her hips were rested right above his and she could feel the vibrations through him.

The ringing of the finished cycle was her only salvation. Fuegoleon’s face looked funny as she lifted herself up to move her clothes to the dryer. She gave him a questioning look before a draft alerted her what was wrong. Her robe had moved open, stopping at her hard nipples. She flew her hands up to shut the fabric once more before jumping off of him.

“I am so sorry Captain,” she ripped open the washer door, “I think I would like to go to my room while my clothes dry,” Y/N was throwing her wet training clothes into the washer.

“Is there any particular reason why, Y/N,” Fuegoleon asked.

“No…” she turned around to find he had opened her other washer to help her, but had pulled out one tiny, lace thong. His eyes narrowed as he observed how it stretched between his two pointer fingers.

Y/N wanted to die right then and there.

“I wasn’t aware you were seeing someone,” was all he said as she chucked the underwear back into the machine and grabbed its contents completely.

“Wh-why would you say that,” she squeaked, taking the load from him and turning around to throw them in another dryer.

“You don’t wear those for training, do you,” his voice tickled her ear. Y/N’s eyes rolled from the sensation of its warmth.

“S-sometimes I do,” she slammed the door shut and messed with the settings

“Why,” he pushed her flush against the dryers, “Hoping someone might see them?”

“Captain…”

Fuegoleon removed himself from Y/N.

“I apologize, Y/N. It seems I misread you. Forgive me.” He sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room.

Y/N had 5 seconds to either go to her room or make a once in a lifetime decision. And she was brash so…

After hitting start on the dryer she slowly walked to her captain.

“I wear them hoping you will invite me to your dorm afterwards for a shared bath.”

Fuegoleon looked up from his lap. Y/N’s hands were on the tie of her robe. As he opened his mouth to speak she pulled on it and let it slide down her shoulders. Leaving herself completely bare to him.

His eyes became dark with hunger.

“Thank god,” he stood up and started throwing off his clothes, “I thought I had just made an ass of myself.”

Y/N had seen his naked chest before while training, but it was different now. She let her eyes move downward, she stopped to take in his throbbing cock. She gaped at its size. It would never fit in her mouth.

“Tell me, Y/N, are my balls still not big enough?”

A blush crept across her face, “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

“Then make it up to me.”

Y/N walked forward, stopped when their chest touched before dropping to her knees.

The pair maintained eye contact as Y/N reached out her tongue, giving his member a long lick. Fuegoleon nodded in approval. Y/N wrapped her mouth around the head, lightly sucking as she made her way down his shaft.

Fuegoleon growled in pleasure as Y/N bobbed her head. His cock was so long she could only get half of it in her mouth, gagging as she tried to fit in more. Fuegoleon pushed back her shoulders and lifted her up.

“I’d rather taste you than have you taste me, darling,” then laid her down on his washers which were still vibrating.

Fuegoleon put his hands on Y/N’s inner thighs, lightly massaging before spreading them open. His face was at level with her wet opening.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he purred before taking a long lick over her bundle of nerves. “You’re so sweet,” he sucked, hard.

Y/N reached for Fuegoleon’s hair, pulling it as she moaned on his tongue. He continued to take laps at her. Her pussy dripped down her curves and onto the washer.

“I want you,” Y/N whimpered.

Fuegoleon growled, continuing his feast.

“Please,” she shrieked as an orgasm ripped through her body.

“There we go,” he murmured, unbending his back.

Their eyes met, “Please,” Y/N repeated.

Fuegoleon pulled Y/N to the edge of the washer, “There is nothing that would make me happier.”

He lined his cock up with her vagina, taking his time sinking inside of her. Y/N gasped as his member hit her innermost wall.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he leaned down to suck on her nipple, “You feel so good.” Fuegoleon slowly pulled out, almost completely, before ramming himself back inside. He did it again and again. Y/N was a wet, mewling mess beneath him.

“Fuegoleon,” she cried as his cock hit her most sensitive spot.

“That’s what I was looking for, do you like that, Y/N?”

He taunted her, hitting the spot repeatedly. All Y/N could do was moan and scream.

“Good girl,” he latched his mouth to hers, swallowing her cries of pleasure.

She tightened around him, signalling she was close. He twitched in response.

“Together,” he growled, “We come together.” Y/N nodded.

A final thrust was their undoing, Y/N spasmed around him, shaking with the washer. Fuegoleon spilled inside her, so deep and hot. He stayed sheathed inside her while he caught his breath, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“That was…”

“Amazing,” Y/N answered. He gave her a smile.

The beep of his washer was their signal to get put together.

“I’m hoping you’ll join me in my room to fold our clothes once we’re done, Y/N.”

And she was more than inclined to agree.

#fuegoleon scenario #fuegoleon vermillion #fuegoleon x reader #black clover fuegoleon #fuegoleon oneshot #black clover x reader #vermillionflames

60 notes · View notes

noyasboxdye · 3 years

Text

Aran Headcanons

***********************************

Notes: He’s so criminally underrated it hurts :/ I love him sm so accept these hcs pls :)

Character: Aran

Genre: Fluff & Smut

WARNINGS: degrading, watersports (?), feminization, spitting, choking, slapping, over stimming, edging

The spotify playlist I mentioned: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6nSzHm95ghzWnoActS1jeG?si=751a69b088fa46c1

If you can't copy and paste it then my user is noyasboxdye and its called "Aran's playlist 💖"

***********************************

• He knows wap, captain hook, and big ole freak word for word bc of his sister

• His hair used to be long from like 2-6 then his parents cut it bc it was hard to keep up with and stuff bc of that he did/does for school

• He had the biggest crush on chole, halle, and sza lol

• He drives with one hand and its like at the bottom of the wheel resting on his thigh and the other like holding his phone or on his thigh or sumn

• He an amazing music taste its top tier idc (yes I made a playlist its on spotify)

• He likes painting his nails

• He has a really strong love for j. cole, Kanye, and jay-z

• His favorite song is ghost town (by Kanye and partynextdoor)

Him with kids

• Him with a daughter

• Now lets expand him doing his daughters hair and the daughter being a daddy’s girl .-.

• Let’s expand even MORE the daughter does like ballet or jazz or sum and he goes to every single practice and performance

• He’s bsfs with his kids and it’s the most adorable thing ever istg

• His son looks up to him sm its fucking adorable

• His son plays volleyball too btw

• Him and his son spend Saturday together bc the son tends to cling with his you more than him lol

• They go on camping trips or to a place like

• He’s their personal jungle gym from ages 2-7

• They play with his beard- like they’ll try to make it into a braid or like one big coil

How y’all started dating

• Y’all met through Atsumu

• Y’all started hanging out a lot Atsumu got mad at him for it because he thought u ditched him :/

• You the first person who wasn’t a girl that he liked

• He freaked out and talked to Kita about it (don’t worry kita’s dating Atsumu)

• He was secretly pining for like almost 2 months before he something

• The only reason you found out is because y’all were playing 7 mins in heaven

• Y’all were talking and he accidentally said it lol

• The alarm rang right after so you couldn’t ask him about it

• He avoided you for a few days

• You had to trap him in the closet after practice while he was getting the mop

• Yall were fine after that though lol

• He took you to a lavender field and yall had a picnic and watched the stars after for your first date

• He kissed your cheek at the door when he dropped you off

• He hyped himself up when he got in the car for kissing you lol

• Y’all bonded over a love for ritz crackers

Aran with a s/o (SFW/fluff)

• (targeted towards blk ppl) he does your hair :)

• Y’all are that couple who’s like always traveling together and everyone wants to be y’all lol

• He thinks of you when he listens to frank ocean :’)

• (for afabs) He’s super warm so if you’re on your period he’ll hold his hand on your stomach

• He loves rubbing your back when you fall asleep

• (for afabs who wear/want binders and stuff) he did hella research abt binders

• He buys you a binder/binders if you have shitty parent who aren’t supportive

• You do nose kisses at least 2 times a day

• He likes when y’all match fits

• He likes watching movies and reality shows with you

• He buys you flowers con

Sub Aran with a s/o (NSFW)

• He’s a masochist

• He has a breeding kink

• Like degrading him and calling him your slutty little cumdump and your dirty greedy whore while he’s begging you to cum in him… yes

• He likes being treated like a rag doll so slapping, spitting, and choking him while making him cum for the 4thtime that night is what he dreams of

• Over stimming him and leaving him tied up to your headboard and gagged a vibrator tied to his dick with a vibrating butt plug while you go get a few groceries and watch the new ep of ur fav show then come back upstairs

• Calling his ass hold a cunt and feminizing him while your fucking is something that will make him bust on the spot

• Cum in his mouth and making him keep it there while you fuck him and the more he spills the longer the cock ring stays on

• He loves shower sex so expect a lot of that

151 notes · View notes

mintugiyuu · 3 years

Note

oh! its okay, i'll try to word it as close as possible to the first time.

may i please have the main group with a trans male reader who is stealth and kind of scared of how they'll react coming out to them?

(gosh i hope thats close enough, my memory is not the best,,)

thank you so much!!

thank you so so much for resending this!! I’m so sorry it got deleted the first time around, it was early in the morning and I wasn’t using my noggin when I was trying to draft it ;3;

for the kamaboko squad, I left it so it could be interpreted as romantic or platonic! for nezuko I did it more platonically, I hope that was ok! thank you for requesting and I hope these are enjoyable to read! I hope you’re well <3

꒰🌤꒱ — as it’s always been.

sfw scenarios + head-canons

➥ characters || kamado tanjirou, kamado nezuko, hashibira inosuke, agatsuma zenitsu

➥ warnings || none

➥ synopsis || the reader hesitantly comes out as trans to the kamaboko squad, nervous to what they’ll think and say; here is how they would react.

➥ kamado tanjirou:

- Tanjirou has a great sense of smell, so there’s no hiding your anxiety/nervousness about coming out. He’s most certainly going to ask you what’s wrong, nothing but concerned for your state of being.

- As you’re explaining and officially coming out to him, he’s very attentive; nodding and making sure you knew he was listening.

- He knows this must be very hard and nerve-wracking for you, so he lets you finish speaking before responding himself.

- Tanjirou, being the sweetheart he is, immediately reassures you that he thinks no different of you and still loves you through and through!

- If he’s honest, he’s a bit surprised. The boy definitely wasn’t expecting this, but regardless he’s very glad that you’re happy with who you are and honored that you trust him enough with this information.

- Expect lots of words of support and small actions of comfort/affection. Tanjirou immediately pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back as he tells you how proud he is of you, and how the information you told him will stay between you two (unless/until you tell the others; he knows it’s not in his place). He’d hold both your hands to his chest as he promises you that nothing has changed between the two of you, giving you his infamous gentle smile.

- Like he promised, nothing changes between you two. Everything is as it was before, and unless you want to talk about the topic at hand, he won’t even bring it up. It just goes to show he doesn’t mind what so ever and supports you all the way!

➥ kamado nezuko

- When it comes to Nezuko as a demon, she doesn’t really have a true understanding of anything that’s going on around her; she goes with her emotions and the emotions she’s picking up around her. Of course, she can tell when there’s danger and understand basic conversations. But other than that, all she really can understand is protect, sleep, and head pats.

- So you wouldn’t outright come out to her, knowing she probably wouldn’t understand regardless. It happens by accident, kind of.

- She spends her days in a dark room of the butterfly mansion as the others are healing, either sleeping or doing her own thing. You’re probably pacing around the room, trying to plan out how to officially tell the other boys and properly come out to them.

- Nezuko notices your distress from where she was playing with a handkerchief you gave to her after one of your missions.

- “Hmmmph!”

- In other words, she’s grabbing your attention, looking lost to why you’re pacing. In a “hey! what are you doing?” kind of way.

- When you didn’t notice her attempts, she huffs, hopping off the bed and making her way to you. She’s in her small form currently, trying to regain her energy but wanting to be awake to be in your company.

- You’d feel her tug at your uniform, making several muffled questionable noises at your pacing. If you tried to brush her off, telling her “it’s nothing”, she’s calling you out on your bull and tugging you to the bed.

- Sit criss-cross and watch her crawl into your lap as a toddler would do to an older sibling (for she saw you as another big brother), grabbing your arms and making it so you were hugging her.

- This gives you no room but to explain yourself, so you did. As you come out to her and explain how you’re nervous to tell the others, she’d.. not be the most understanding.

- Understanding as in she doesn’t comprehend what you’re telling her. But she does her best to listen, feeling how important this is to you and how anxious you’re reacting.

- She cuts you off of a nervous ramble of all the bad outcomes with a head-pat to your head, closing her eyes with a small “hmhmph!” coming from under her muzzle.

- Expect a good ole Kamado hug, tiny edition. And she’s not letting you go, not even when it was time for dinner.

- She calms you, knowing in your heart that even if she’s not completely aware, she still loves you and hopefully the others will as well (they will of course).

- Before you have to go, she grips onto your sleeve and pulls the muzzle off her mouth, giving you a sharp toothed smile. Before you can tell her to put it back on, that you don’t want anyone to see her with it off, but she gets one word out with the biggest beaming smile.

- “Oniisan!” (“Big Brother!”)

- .... and pats her head. She wants head pats too. Nothing’s changed, you’re still the best head pat giver she knows.

➥ !! spoilers for chapter 204 !! bonus: after the final battle, if you were to come out to a now human Nezuko, she’d react much like Tanjirou; just a lot more bubbly with more bright smiles. Unlike Tanjirou, she’d be more.. “aggressively” supportive. Basically, she wouldn’t hesitate to throw hands at anyone who says something purposely ignorant. It’s terrifyingly sweet; no one messes with her big brother.

➥ hashibira inosuke

- Inosuke has very sensitive skin, so he’s getting goosebumps from the anxiety your giving off. It annoys and confuses him, not understanding what’s going on for you to be so nervous.

- “Oi! You’re making my skin prickly!! Stop that!!”

- It’s his way of asking what’s wrong, wanting to know how to stop it.

- Your anxiety hits an all time high as you let it out, officially coming out to him.

- ... But he doesn’t know what “trans” means, so he’s confused. He stands there, blinking under his pig mask.

- “... What? What the hell is that?” He may sound brash, but he just hates not understanding things. He wants to understand more than everyone else, after all, so don’t take it personally.

- After a long bit of explaining it clearly to him, you two are sitting on the ground, Inosuke with his hands in his lap as he stares at you.

- He’s surprisingly silent the whole way through, and not being able to see his true facial expression just makes you all the more nervous.

- If you were to nervously ask him to take his mask off, you were expecting a hard no. What you weren’t expecting was for him to hesitate for only a moment before taking it off, setting it down in to his lap.

- Inosuke’s eyebrows would be furrowed, his mouth turned down as he looked at you closely. Bracing yourself, he responded.

- “So?”

- That definitely isn’t what you would be expecting.

- Now he didn’t mean this in any negative connotation at all. He fully understands what it means now and what you told him - and to note he’s completely fine with it - he’s just confused to why it’s such a big deal. (If anything he respects you even more, finding you extremely strong.)

- Inosuke doesn’t care how you were born or what you choose to be; at the end of the day you’re his favorite sparring partner! Plus, he has to keep you around. He wants to understand the warm fuzzies he gets in his tummy when you do nice things for him.

- “Doesn’t matter what you are, I can still kick your ass!!” He says as he tackles you to the ground.

- All’s well ends well, and much like Tanjirou, it seems nothing would change between you two.

➥ agatsuma zenitsu

- The high-pitched anxiety sound emitting from you is giving Zenitsu a headache; he’ll make sure to complain about it loudly so you know.

- If you apologized for it while fidgeting, he’ll soften his whining tone and ask why you’re so nervous anyways? It’s day, so it’s not like you have demons to fear.

- You hesitate, stuttering around the topic before officially coming out, explaining that to him and why you’re so nervous.

- Zenitsu.. definitely was not expecting that. He’d go wide-eyed, clearly shocked at the information.

- “HUH??? YOU’RE WHAT???”

- If you were to flinch at his shouts, he’d pause and look to you; watching how you curled up on yourself, scared you looked for a bad reaction.

- Instead he immediately goes to reassure you.

- “IM SORRY!! I-I didn’t mean it like that!! PROMISE! I just wasn’t expecting that!! I wouldn’t ever have guessed!!- I MEAN-!!” He’s talking way to fast for you to even understand, so the more you looked lost the more Zenitsu feared he messed up the trust you must’ve had for him in order to tell him that.

- Eventually he’d break down, getting on his hands and knees while bowing his head to the floor, gripping your pant leg all while begging you to forgive him.

- You’re the one who originally needed comfort here, not him. Smh Zenitsu.

- In all seriousness, reassure him that he’s ok. He meant no harm by his reaction, he just tends to be over-dramatic with his reactions and emotions.

- Once he’s calm, he’d sniffle and be sitting next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

- Zenitsu gives it a few minutes before asking questions, making sure he’s understanding 100% and not getting anything wrong.

- The blonde-boy knows about how hard struggles in life can be; he’s struggled his whole life when it comes to finding a home and a place of belonging, being homeless for the first 3/4’s of the life he’s lived so far. He knows he can’t compare his struggles to the things you must’ve gone through, but he can clearly and easily sympathize.

- He reassures you that he thinks no different of you, if anything he admires the way you could be so brave about it.

- It’s a quiet moment between the two of you as Zenitsu continues his rambles (still scared he ruined whatever is between you two a moment ago), circling over the same couple topics; how he supports you, will support you through anything, that he sees you no differently and that nothing will change.

- Please place your hand over his mouth or he’ll keep going all day; his anxiety rambles are said to last hours.

- This has only made you two closer, the others finding you and Zenitsu sticking/hanging around each other more and more frequently. In the end, your happy you told him.

148 notes · View notes

glystenangel · 2 years

Text

Welcome to the Neighborhood

SingleDad! Sukuna x Afab!Reader - Modern AU

Series Summary: you move in next door and sukuna, the single dad living next door, notices

alternatively you’re a pottery artist that moves into the neighborhood and you and sukuna develop a big ol fat crush on each other. then you ****.

Chapters: 3/7

Chapter Summary: you gain sukuna’s trust

Status: Completed

Tags: Sukuna is separate from Yuji, slight slow burn (it starts off slowish bear w me), some pining and long stares

Warnings: 18+, Daddy kink makes its appearance, fluff mostly tho

Chapter 3 - Babysitting

Some weeks had passed since that conversation, and it still weighed on your mind as you were reading in your living room. You hadn’t tried speaking to him since really, as you wanted to give him space and felt ashamed about perhaps overstepping your place. Mulling over Sukuna’s response for the upteenth time, you nearly jumped out of your skin when urgent knocks were pounded into your front door.

You looked through the peephole and immediately pushed it open, “Sukuna?”

He was smartly dressed for once, wearing black dress shoes and a white button up rolled to his forearms that tucked into perfectly tailored gray slacks. He had a duffel bag stuffed to the point of almost bursting slung around his shoulder, and in each hand, a toddler that looked up at you with overwhelmingly cute curiosity.

“Hey.” He breathed, looking at you apologetically as he spoke quickly, “Could you please watch them for a few hours? There’s an emergency at one of the sites, but I can’t have the kids there and you’re the first person I thought of.”

The first person he thought of.

“I’d love to, come here kids.” You extended your hands out to them, and tried to contain a squeal when they rushed forward to hug your legs instead.

“Cookie lady!” They shouted excitedly.

“Daddy will be right back, okay?” Sukuna knelt down, offloading the duffel bag beside you and patting each child’s head before standing.

“They’ll behave, I promise.” He said with more anxiety than you'd ever seen him exhibit, “And anything they need’s in the bag, just so you know.”

“I got it.” You reassured with a smile, picking up Nobara to hold her to your chest and placing a hand on Yuji’s back.

“Thank you.” He shot you a meaningful look, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you.” Your own goodbye was chorused by Yuji and Nobara as Sukuna sped off to work.

Once his car had become a speck in the distance, you looked down at the pair of children left in your care for the rest of the day, “You guys wanna help me bake some cookies?”

Their eyes glittered with elation.

“Yes!”

________________

By the time Sukuna came back the sun had set, and you had done your damnedest trying to keep up with Yuji and Nobara, filling the day with baking cookies, sculpting and painting little animal figurines with them, playing tag, and finally reading to them until at least Yuji had fallen asleep tucked into the corner of your couch. Nobara was still awake, but was clearly trying to defy the need to sleep as her head lolled from side to side next to her brother.

Upon hearing footsteps approaching your door, you closed the picture book you had nabbed from Sukuna’s duffel bag. You carefully shushed Nobara’s inquisitive gurgles on your way to opening the door and found yourself at the end of Sukuna’s pressing gaze.

“Welcome back.”

“Hi,” His smile was tense and he made an attempt to peer over your shoulder, “Sorry about that, are they okay?”

“No need to apologize, they were angels. They’re a lot like you, actually.” You mused, “I can tell you raised them really well and we had so much fun together.”

It was true, throughout the day you could see how good natured and cheerful the two were, though they definitely had the same chaotic impulses most children their age loved to indulge. They were troublemakers with hearts of gold, and you could see how Sukuna’s personality shined through each of them differently. It had been a day full of pleasant surprises.

"I know it's not easy for you to be away from them either, so...thanks for letting me help." You finished.

His expression softened considerably, and he regarded you with a look that made your heart ache, as if he hadn’t expected your praise again and now didn’t know what to do with the kind words.

When he couldn’t produce a response, you gently broke the silence, “Wait here, I’ll go get them.”

You closed the door and repacked the duffel bag as best as you could, zipping it closed and setting it next to the door before returning to your living room to pick up Yuji’s limp form and lead a drowsy Nobara to the door by hand.

“Is Daddy back?” She rubbed at her eye indiscreetly.

“Yes, he’s here to pick you up.” You squeezed her hand affectionately, melting at the pure glee she stomped her feet with at hearing her father had returned.

You let go of her hand to open the door again before lightly pushing her back towards Sukuna, who’s shoulders relaxed upon seeing his daughter.

She stumbled into him, babbling with happiness and he pinched her cheek affectionately before reaching down and throwing the duffel bag at your feet over his shoulder.

He looked at the essentially comatose toddler cradled in your arms, “What happened to Yuji?”

“He fell asleep!” You whispered, extracting Yuji from your arms as gingerly as possible and transferring him to Sukuna.

The careful movement still disturbed him, and you just about died when he scrunched up his face and wrapped a small hand around your fingers.

“I don’t wanna go...”

Your willpower all but fell apart at his sleepy murmur, and you delicately slid your fingers out of his reach.

“You need to go home with Daddy, remember?”

Your heart squeezed at his pout, eyes still shut and a puffy cheek squished into Sukuna’s shirt.

“But-”

You soothingly rubbed his back and patted the little boy’s head, “I promise you and Nobara can come over and play whenever you want, just as long as it’s okay with Daddy. Okay?”

“Okay…” He sniffled, and you did everything in your power to not kidnap him from Sukuna right then and there.

“Pinky promise!” Nobara’s tiny voice floated up from below and you knelt down to hook your pinky through hers.

When you stood back up Sukuna was in a similar state as when you had initially left him, eyes brimming with an unreadable emotion. Except this time, he suddenly started to laugh.

“As long as it’s okay with Daddy?” He prompted, his handsome signature smile making its appearance.

You flinched at your own words, realizing the term of endearment had casually slipped into your vocabulary after having spent the whole day with Yuji and Nobara, who adorably but unhelpfully blabbed nonstop about their dad.

“That’s you right? They didn’t know I was talking about you if I said Sukuna.” You hurriedly blurted, an earnest look crossing your features.

“Right.”

His teasing tone made your heart race.

“What?” You demanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Nothing,” He grinned, leaning into your ear as Nobara yawned, “Just like the sound of it coming from you.”

You nearly fell to the floor, and he stepped back as if nothing had been said.

“Anyway, thanks for everything today. Say bye bye Nobara.” He gave the sleepy toddler’s hand a tug.

“Bye bye!” She waved, blinking blearily as he stooped down and scooped her into his arms as well.

He gave you one last look before walking off, a slumbering child bundled up in each arm, “Have a good night.”

“Goodnight.” You waved back meekly, barely finding your voice in time.

You didn’t sleep at all that night.

________________

End Notes:

shorter chapter! next one is where the spice takes off😇 honestly would write more relationship building stuff with the kids butttttt again we’re here for Daddy Sukuna not them so

fuck them kids

← Second Chapter // Next Chapter →

301 notes · View notes

teruthecreator · 3 years

Text

sweet surprises

lord forgive me for the cringe i’m about to post. i fully blame this post and this post for planting the seeds of berdley having a crush on kris in my brain. also shouts out to izel for listening to me go insane at 3 AM about this.

anyways, here’s a thing.

______________________________________________________________

Excitement is in the air.

Unlike the usual calm monotony of life at school, things recently have been quite...electric. Not because of the portal to the Dark World hidden behind the door of the closet, or the adventures had by a select group of students through the portal in the Librarby a few days ago. No, this isn’t about that.

This is about the Sadie Hawkman’s Dance. The once-a-year phenomenon where the school puts on its best interpretation of a formal dance for the incredibly small number of students who attend class. Students buzz in excitement for the event, preparing their most formal outfits and getting ready to dazzle their friends and fellow classmates with their dramatic entrances into the auditorium.

And, of course, there’s the all important ritual of asking someone to the dance.

There’s already been a few proposals made this week. Jockington rolled into class like a hula hoop and asked Catti to be his “best bro” for the dance, to which she happily agreed. (And by that, I mean she looked up from her phone, smiled, said not a single word, and went back to typing.) Temmie loudly announced to the class that she would be taking her egg, which was somehow...embarrassed that she mentioned it. And, of course, Noelle finally managed to work up enough courage to ask Susie to the dance. It was done in an incredible display of candy canes that spelled out the phrase: “CAN(E) YOU BE MY DATE TO THE DANCE?” Unfortunately, Susie was about halfway through scarfing the display down before she realized what it said. She then began choking on one of the candy canes out of disbelief, which wound her in the nurse for the rest of the day. But, when she could speak again, she very quietly agreed to Noelle’s proposal (and, if you happened to be a fly on the wall in that room, you could hear a tail thump rhythmically against the doctor’s bench as she did so).

Kris was pleased with everything. They were happy to see their friends so happy together. A long time coming, if you asked them. And they’d be just as happy attending the dance solo, since they’ll undoubtedly be dragged along by Susie. They’d never gone to the dance before--never had a reason to, truth be told. But with their newfound friends, they may just enjoy being a wingman for the night.

...Speaking of wingmen, Berdly will probably be going solo as well. Unsurprising, but Kris makes a mental note to ensure the bird will be in attendance. As much as he is kind of a lot sometimes, he’s their friend. And Kris is going to make sure all of their friends are having fun at that dance!

They walk into class thinking of this (surprisingly early, for a change), which is why they almost miss the massive display sitting boldly atop their desk. They freeze the instant it catches their eye and, for a second, they almost believe it isn’t real. Like some leftover thoughts of the Dark World lingering in their vision. But, after wiping their eyes and seeing that it’s still there, they decide to approach and...investigate.

The display is expertly crafted by someone who clearly knows their way around a glue gun. It is a heart-shaped arch that is decorated with a myriad of printed illustrations of Super Smashing Fighters Melee characters, all having cut-outs to hold different bars of chocolate. There are also numerous origami hearts glued around the characters on the arch, in colors spanning across the rainbow. The arch is painted in swirls of blues, pinks, and reds and covered with a border of glitter that sprinkles onto the desk when Kris reaches out to pluck a chocolate bar from its perch. On the desk itself is a big origami heart that says “TO KRIS” in gold calligraphy. It is by far one of the coolest, nicest, cheesiest things Kris has ever seen.

They look up from the display to see if anyone else is seeing this shit, and that’s when it all clicks.

Because sitting at the front of the classroom, fidgeting way more than normal, is Berdly. He keeps interlocking his ankles underneath his desk before unlocking them and kicking the air, turning around every half-second or so to try and catch Kris’s reaction. From the brief moments Kris can see the front of him, they notice he’s not in his usual white collared shirt and black khaki shorts. Instead, his shirt is buttoned all the way up, with a nice blue bowtie tied around his neck. He also traded out his khaki shorts for a pair of dress pants that look to be a tad too long for his legs. He keeps reaching up to smooth out the feathers on his head, which immediately stick back up from stress.

Now, Kris may be a straight B student, but they’re not stupid. Context clues are a very good thing, and all signs point to Berdly as the culprit of this public display of...affection?

Beyond Berdly is Ms. Alphys at her desk, who shoots Kris a look of deep understanding and maybe...guilt? She looks at Berdly for a split second and shrugs her shoulders, indicating he was probably in here long before she was and so she had no way of stopping him from leaving it there.

Kris looks back down at the display and picks up the large origami heart. As they begin to unfold it, they see a sprawling letter written in the same flashy calligraphy. Kris squints at the letters--they’re dyslexic, so everything kind of just looks like spaghetti on paper. Still, they’re able to make out the largely printed question of “WILL YOU GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME?” with no issue.

Huh, guess they won’t be going to the dance alone after all…? It’s a little confusing as to why Berdly would want to go with them, though. Like, they’ve hung out a little bit--usually whenever Berdly wanted a “worthy rival” to play video games with, he would come over and Kris would whoop his ass for a few hours. And, of course, there were the recent events in the Cyber World; but Kris is pretty sure them and Susie had thoroughly convinced Noelle and Berdley that that was all a dream. So, why them?

They’re lost in this train of thought for so long that they don’t even notice the other kids enter the room until they suddenly hear:

“Yo, Kris???????? What the heck is this thing????” Susie’s voice doesn’t startle them, but it is loud enough to get them to look up. Susie is standing next to their desk, looking at the display with genuine amazement thinly masked by disgust. She’s also loud enough to basically stop the whole class (who were all muttering amongst themselves about it anyway), which gives Kris only a second to gaze around the room before--

SLAM!

The door to the classroom slams shut, leaving one seat unoccupied.

Berdley’s.

“This thing’s got chocolate on it????” Susie continues to marvel at the display while Kris looks at the door, frowning. They feel...bad. It isn’t Berdley’s fault for trying to fit in with the other kids' proposals; he admitted to feeling like he needs to do more just to stand out enough for people to acknowledge him back in the Dark World. And this thing is really...thoughtful! The characters are all ones Kris typically mains, or ones they know Berdley mains, which means he remembers things about Kris. And the chocolate is a given, but it is nice to be able to stock their personal snack stash with some fancy stuff. Ultimately, it’s very sweet, and Kris can’t help but feel a little guilty for not saying anything immediately.

They turn and lock eyes with Ms. Alphys, who looks extremely out-of-depth with this situation. She makes a number of gestures from them to the door in a flustered way of saying I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on please help me Kris I know I’m asking a lot of you but I don’t know how to deal with teenage angst I’m like thirty-five. They sigh, standing up and walking past Susie (but not before giving her a stare that warns her if a single chocolate bar is gone that they will be holding that over her until the day she dies) and following Berdly out the door.

It doesn’t take Kris very long to follow the trail of labored breathing to where Berdley is--in the abandoned classroom, hyperventilating as he teeters on a breakdown. Luckily, when Kris opens the door, it seems to put a halt to his spiralling because he just kind of...freezes. Like a deer caught in headlights. Or a Berdley caught in Kris-lights. Kris takes this moment to let the door shut behind them, trapping the two in here. Together.

“U-Uhhhhh, hi--he--Um. H-Hello, K-Kris…” Berdly attempts to put on his usual bravado, but his voice betrays him brutally by squeaking and cracking on every syllable. Kris can’t help the smile that comes to their face.

“Uh, hey,” they reply with a wave. Berdley continues to stand there and stare (almost like he wasn’t expecting Kris to care enough to follow him) before the present circumstances return to his mind and he begins breathing hard again.

“I-I-I-I, uh...I was. Um. J-Just, uh. G-Getting some fresh air! Y-Yes! The classroom can be s-so stuffy sometimes, I’m sure y-you--you, uh...you agree?” Berdley makes a valiant attempt at hiding his panic, which Kris almost takes pity on. But they don’t think the monster will feel any better if they just pretend what happened back there never happened.

“Yeah. I liked the display.” Kris says simply. Berdley stands stock-straight at that, looking even worse for wear in the “being normal and completely cool” department.

“O-Oh??????? That ol’ thing????? I, um--well I just--y-you see, I--uh. Um,” You can really hear the gears in his head turning as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “I-I-I just thought you w-would appreciate the craftsmanship of!!! A t-true artisan, such as myself!!! So, I!!! M-Made it!!! COMPLETELY PLATONICALLY, OF COURSE!!!! I-I would never imply that my intentions w-were anything other than for bro-sies, i--You didn’t read that whole card, did you?”

“I can’t read,” They mean this as a joke, but they can see Berdley seriously consider this for a second too long. “Dude, I’m dsylexic. I can’t really read cursive…” Berdley freezes up once more, which makes Kris realize they haven’t really projected that as loudly as they might’ve thought.

“Oh! Right! How could I forget! That you’re! Dsylexic!” Berdley’s smile is stapled to his face as he begins to rhythmically knock on his head. “And I! Wrote! That! Entire! Note! In! Cursive! Which! You! Can’t! Read!!!” Kris steps forward in an attempt to keep Berdley from bashing his own skull in, but that only makes Berdley more tense, so they take a step back. “I-I just--The note isn’t important! None of it’s important actually can we forget this interaction ever happened okay? Okay yes that’s great have a wonderful day Kris I will be returning home to sitinmyroomandneverreturntothecorporealrealmalrightgoodbyeforeverKris--” He attempts to sidestep around Kris and out the door, but is very easily intercepted.

“Stop.” Kris grabs him by the shoulders, which seems to shut him up for a second. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Berdley gapes at them as his face steadily grows redder, which makes Kris feel as if there’s something on their face. But he quickly shakes it off, going from completely neurotic to...dejected.

“I just…” He starts, trailing off immediately. “You deserve to have a big proposal, same as everyone else. I-I see you in the back of the class, just...watching. And I, uh, felt it was time to...give you the spotlight! But that was silly of me, wasn’t it?” He looks off to the side at the floor, smiling sadly. “After all, who’d want to go to the dance with me…? I-I’m alone every year, standing in the background. Just kind of...taking it all in...and th-thinking about how it’d be...nice to be a part of it. But that’s...not probable. It was just nice to think about taking you to the dance because you’re--well, you’re nice to me, and you’re funny, and you actually listen to me when I’m talking, an-and you’re a good person and an incredible gaming legend...but I shouldn’t have put it all on you in front of everyone...I’m. I’m sorry, Kris.” He won’t make eye contact with the human, but Kris can still see the tears collecting in his eyes.

“Berdley, that’s stupid.” Kris says, which Berdley cringes at, “Why wouldn’t I wanna go with you?” That part is...not what Berdley was expecting. He looks up at Kris, unsure of where to go from here.

“U-Um…? Because of all the previously stated things? Like me being a complete loser who nobody likes?”

“I like you,” Kris replies immediately, leaving Berdley’s feathers sticking straight up as he flusters. “And I like your display. It’s...really sweet.”

“E-Even if you can’t read the note?” Berdley’s voice cracks.

“I mean, I could read the: WILL YOU GO WITH ME TO THE DANCE part, so, like. Yeah.” Kris shrugs. “Plus, you got me chocolate. Nice chocolate. Nobody...gets me things like that.” They smile, a light dusting of blush across their face. “I’ll go with you.” Berdley’s entire body seizes up for the third time, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“W-W-w-W-w-w-w-w-W-W-W-w-w-w-Wh-Wha-wh-w-w-wha-wha-w-wh-Wh-Wha-wh-Wha-wha-w-w-W-W-W--” Berdley continues to struggle with the word “what” for a solid minute and a half before he’s finally about to manage a: “What?!” Kris can’t help but laugh.

“I said that, Berdley,” at this, they move their grip from his shoulders to his hands, “I will go to the Sadie Hawkman’s dance with you.”

The circuits in Berdley’s brain struggle with this frequency for an extended moment before his face erupts in the giddiest smile Kris has ever seen the bird monster sport. He even begins to jump up and down, taking Kris along with him, as he cackles. It is a surprisingly cute display that Kris finds themselves blushing a bit at. It’s nice to be this...cared about.

“I-I--We have to start thinking of outfits immediately!” Berdley blurts out, returning to their usual demeanor. “I was thinking of some complimentary color schemes on the way to school today which I will be happy to show you at lunchtime. I’m also a master with a sewing machine, so if you are unable to procure an outfit that meets the color requirements, I would be delighted to take your measurements and--w-wait, don’t read into that phrasing, I just m-meant that I could make an outfit for you! B-But I’d need your measurements, and--Oh, goodness, hasn’t class started already, Kris?! We should head back, but--” He looks from the door to Kris and back again a few times before finally settling on something.

“I’lltalktoyouaboutthislaterseeyouinclassKris!!!!!” He says this right before he gives Kris a solitary peck on the cheek before bolting out of the abandoned classroom, leaving Kris blinking at the Berdley-shaped cloud he left behind. Their hand gently grazes the spot on their cheek--luckily not actually pecked by his beak, but more of a quick-kiss kind of peck--and feel their heart skip a beat.

Huh.

That’s...different.

They elect to not dwell on that feeling any longer and head back to class. They have to make sure Susie hasn’t eaten all of the chocolate on that display.

They wouldn’t want to make Berdley go through the trouble of re-proposing just so they could rightfully claim their other sweet surprise.

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #kris/berdley #kris dreemurr #kris deltarune #berdley deltarune #ignorance cloud on #LORD FORGIVE ME FOR BEING CRINGE ON MAIN. I JUST LIKE THINKING THOUGHTS #LISTEN..........I JUST THINK ITD BE FUNNY. IF KRIS HAD THIS PATHETIC GAMER ALL HEART EYES OVER THEM #also the dance aspect is based on one of the posters you can see inside the school. i am Pretty sure that is what its called #if i was off by like a similar-sounding word i need everyone to do me a favor and pretend im right bc this is cringe enough already #i edited this ONCE at 3 AM last night. i am doing no more than that #anyways here u go izel enjoy ur food.

50 notes · View notes

dapperappleton · 3 years

Text

Random Poly!EraserMic x Teacher!Reader HCs

I highkey want to make one of those text screenshot things for these two, but I can’t find any decent websites to do it, so if you know one please tell me!

Pairing: Yamada Hizashi/Present Mic x GN!U.A.Teacher!Reader x Aizawa Shota/Eraserhead

Warnings: A bit about bugs

Genre: Fluff

When the media went crazy when All Might started teaching, you found an article that mentioned when they tried to get ahold of All Might, a homeless guy and a dude who looked like a human-macaw hybrid stopped them

You teased them endlessly about it, much to both of their dismay (but I mean, come on, it’s hilarious)

Hizashi and Shota are both big time cuddly bois

I am right and you know it

Shota literally has an ugly yellow sleeping bag at work, of course he loves to cuddle while he naps

And Hizashi just looks like a big ol cuddle bug

Maybe not a cuddle bug because of the thing that happened during finals

That brings me to my next point

After Koda got the bugs off Hizashi, he legit ran all the way to you and made you hold him while you watched the next team go

If you ever tease him about the bugs, he will freak out again and make you cuddle him for at least an hour

You’re probably a homeroom teacher of one class or another, you are now their parent. Aizawa likes to brag about 1A, show him that your kids are better.

There have been times where you’ll just sit there and either brag about them to each other or talk about how much you love your kids and how proud of them you are

I mean except for Aizawa, he would never admit that he loves and is very proud of 1A

We all see through your lies, Aizawa

If you’re not a homeroom teacher, that means you teach multiple classes. Congrats, you can now adopt whoever you want!

Midnight thinks your relationship with Shota and Hizashi is so cute, she’s y’all’s #1 fan

I hope you’re not the jealous type, because at some point you’ll probably meet Ms. Joke

It’s a little funny because Shota obviously hates it, but Joke obviously does not care about that so she probably wouldn’t care that he’s with you and Hizashi

But don’t worry, if Aizawa sees that you’re pretty uncomfortable, he will shut her (or anyone else really) down

All of your sleep schedules are the absolute worst

Aizawa “do whatever you want, just keep it down so I can sleep on the job” Shota

And Yamada Hizashi, who is a teacher, pro hero, and has a radio show

Neither of them sleep, and when they do it’s not for long

Make them go to bed. They cannot take care of themselves and get decent a decent amount of rest.

They’ll do it for you too. All of you are really protective of each other and make sure you take care of yourselves, so it balances out where everyone is usually fine

I FORGOT ABOUT ERI SOMEHOW

ERI LOVES YOU

But I mean she also loves Shota

Hizashi is too loud for her, and this upsets him so much. So so much.

One time you walked in on Eri sleeping on Shota’s chest

You and Hizashi took so many blackmail photos

I feel like Shota has a phone, but for three reasons and three reasons only.

To text you and Hizashi

To take/look at pictures of cats

To look up slang words that 1A uses

I hope you can cook because they are both absolutely horrible at it

I feel like Shota would realise this as a weakness and just... not cook, but Hizashi...

He repeatedly burns and ruins food because every time he underestimates how bad at cooking he really is or thinks that he magically got better

If you can cook/bake, he’ll want to join you, and if you let him, over time he will get a lot better

Okay last one I just want to talk about Hizashi with his hair down

So first off it should be illegal to be that pretty, like seriously tho

But also play with his hair please

He will be forever in debt to you

Like if you ever want him to do something, play with his hair for a bit and he’s down

He just looks so cute curled into you as you run your hands through his soft hair

I am so soft for these two

#erasermic #erasermic x reader #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #Hizashi Yamada x reader #Yamada Hizashi x reader #poly!erasermic #poly erasermic #aizawa x reader #present mic x reader #aizawa shota x reader x yamada hizashi #head canons #headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #gn!reader

183 notes · View notes

lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

Text

Enough - George Weasley

Title: Enough Pairing: George x Fem!Reader, Adrian Pucey x Fem!Reader Summary: Losing the girl of his dreams was never in George’s plan, and watching her marry someone else certainly wasn’t either. He can only hope that it’s not too late to make things right. Warning: mentions of vomiting, alcohol abuse and comments that can be references to child abuse, but nothing is specifically mentioned. A/N: I combined two different requests for this one because they were pretty similar! So this is for the anons who wanted George crashing the wedding off the woman he loves! Feedback is always welcome!! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @thefifthweasley

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

“There’s my girl,” George greets happily as Y/N skips towards him out of the Arithmancy classroom. He’s still slightly out of breath from running there from Herbology, but it doesn’t stop him from wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist and lifting her up slightly.

“George!” Y/N giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck when he finally puts her back on the ground. “You can’t have missed me that much,” she teases, before pulling him down into a brief kiss. “You could have just waited for me in Transfiguration.”

George kisses Y/N again briefly before he grabs her hand, intertwining their fingers. They head towards McGonagall’s classroom slowly as the hall starts to fill with students heading towards the last lesson of the day. “I could have waited for you. But I wanted to walk you to class. I’m a gentleman after all, Y/N.”

“Mhm, sure you are,” Y/N teases, a pink flush on her cheeks.

George truly is her prince charming come to life. Despite the fact that they’ve been together for over three years, George is still finding ways to surprise Y/N and make her feel special. Every evening before a big test there’s a red rose and a bar of her favorite chocolate on her pillow, whenever she gets ready to leave school for a holiday break one of George’s jumpers ends up folded neatly in her trunk and most days George runs across the castle to make sure he can walk Y/N to class, even if it makes him late for his own.

“You break my heart, Y/N,” he jokes, using his grip on her hand to twirl her in a circle. He watches as a smile spreads across her cheeks, his heart pounding in his chest.

From the moment he first talked to Y/N his heart has beat for her and only her. George often feels like he gets lost in a sea of Weasleys, like he’s the one everyone glazes over. To George it seems like all of his siblings stand out in some way, Bill is the oldest, Charlie has his cool job with the dragons, Percy is the smart one, Fred is the loud charming one, Ron is the goofball who’s friends with Harry Potter and of course Ginny is the strong willed younger sister, while he’s just kind of there. He’s always felt like an extension of Fred, he’s George of Fred and George. And he loves being half of the dynamic duo that they are, he loves causing mischief and chaos with his brother. But sometimes he wants to be just George.

Y/N was the first person to just see him. He remembers the day it happened like it was yesterday. It was dinner time, and most of the people at the Gryffindor table were watching Fred recount their great escape from Filch after they charmed his broom to fly away every time he tried to grab it. Everyone seemed to be entranced by him, except for Y/N. She was sitting on George’s other side, completely oblivious to Fred’s antics. She had nudged him and asked what he thought of the transfiguration quiz they’d had the day before. Despite the fact that they were in the same year, George had never spoken to Y/N. She was pretty quiet and kept to herself, far away from the chaos George and Fred created.

But that night she had sought George out, and it made butterflies erupt in his stomach. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but he enjoyed it all the same. They had sat there and talked about which transfiguration spells they found most useful until dinner was over, and they had to head back to the common room. From then on just the sight of Y/N increased George’s heart rate and made butterflies appear in his stomach. Every time he felt himself getting lost in Fred’s shadow Y/N was there, usually with some kind of thought provoking question that would distract him.

When he finally got the courage to ask her on a date they had sat in the Three Broomsticks for hours, sharing shy glances and talking about anything that came to mind. George had asked Y/N how she knew transfiguration was his favorite class, and she revealed that she often watched him in the common room, and it was the only book he ever seemed to open. George had kissed her right there in the middle of the pub, his heart feeling like it was about to pound out of his chest. Y/N had seen him. Just him. And it made George feel like the most special person in the world. From that day on George didn’t care that most people only saw him as that Weasley boy. Or that he was only known to the masses as George of Fred and George. Because Y/N saw him as just George, and that was enough for him.

They reach the Transfiguration classroom then, and George pulls Y/N in for another brief kiss. “You’re my everything,” he breathes, holding her face in his hands.

“Everything okay, George?” Y/N asks, turning her head to press a kiss to his palm. While it’s normal for George to be affectionate, he usually saves such sentiments for when they’re alone and away from prying ears. Mostly Fred’s ears, but it’s unlike him to say something so meaningful while there’s students swirling around them.

Before George has a chance to answer McGonagall is sticking her head out of the classroom door and ushering them inside so class can begin.

“Next week? What do you mean we’re leaving next week?” George asks Fred incredulously.

Fred shushes George and looks to make sure no one heard before leaning in closer to his brother. “Yes, next week. I’m tired of dealing with mega bitch Umbridge and everything else is ready to go. The sooner we get into the space in Diagon Alley the sooner we can open up business and start taking over the world.”

George sighs and rubs his hands over his face. “I thought we would have more time. Leave closer to the end of the school year.”

“You’re not chickening out on me, are you, Georgie?” Fred jokes. When George doesn’t say anything Fred’s face drops. “Are you?” he asks again, his tone more serious.

“I wouldn’t say chickening out,” George mumbles.

Fred slams his fist down on the table, causing George to jump. “We’ve talked about this, George. We’ve dreamed about this, for years. I can’t do it without you, you know that. How can you just abandon me?”

“Oh, stop being such a drama queen,” George responds with an eyeroll. “I’m all in, of course I am.” He bites his lip. “It’s Y/N that I’m worried about.”

“You’re such a fucking sap George, honestly,” Fred teases, ruffling George’s hair. “So, you’re dipping out of school a few months early? What’s the big deal? She’ll graduate, you guys will get married and make a fuck ton of ginger babies. You think she’s going to stop loving you because you don’t finish school or something?”

The thought of his future with Y/N spikes George’s heart rate, and he has to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. “I don’t know. Something like that. What if she doesn’t think I’m good enough for her anymore? Or she forgets about me or something?”

“Now you’re being an idiot. Y/N is crazy in love with you, George. Like you’re the center of her universe sort of love. Mum and Dad kind of love.” Fred watches George for a moment, frowning when his brother refuses to meet his gaze. “Invite her to come with us if you’re so torn up about it, Georgie,” he suggests softly.

“What?” George asks, unable to believe what he’s hearing. Fred usually loves to tease George about how Y/N has him wrapped around her finger, and usually his remarks are accompanied by him pretending to crack a whip. George knows that it’s his way of showing his approval of their relationship, so it doesn’t bother him too much. But it doesn’t make it any less weird to hear Fred be so blatantly supportive of George and Y/N.

“Invite her along. Having an extra set of hands while we start everything up wouldn’t hurt, and Y/N is the perfect candidate. She’s way smarter than the two of us combined and she’s the perfect balance to all of our chaos. She’ll keep us grounded.” Fred rolls his eyes when George still doesn’t seem satisfied. “Okay, spill it. You clearly have been worrying about this for a while. What’s going on in that big ‘ol head of yours?”

George leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. His and Fred’s grand exit from school and how Y/N fits in to all of it has been weighing on his mind for weeks. The thought of bringing Y/N along crossed his mind ages ago, and as much as he wishes it was a viable option it’s not. For one, Y/N has always dreamed of being an Arithmancer. Arithmancy fascinates her to no end, and George has spent endless hours admiring her as she pours over different books, always making sure to listen to everything she tells him. He doesn’t want to take that away from her. She’ll need her NEWTS in order to work in the field, and if she comes to work at the joke shop now she’ll never be able to.

But mostly, he’s completely and utterly terrified of the joke shop failing. He and Fred have found success with their products within Hogwarts walls, but taking them out to the world at large is a huge risk. They’ve put every ounce of energy and what little money they have into it, and if it fails they’ll have nothing to fall back on. And George can’t subject Y/N to that. She deserves to have the world handed to her on a platter and even though George’s love for her reaches the end of the universe, that’s not enough to give her the life she deserves. They’ve talked about what they hope their future holds, and George wants to give Y/N everything her heart desires. But he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to do that, and his worst nightmare is letting her down.

“There’s a lot going on,” he admits honestly, choosing to ignore Fred’s tease. “I think I know what I have to do about Y/N and I’ve just been trying to deny it. But it’s the only option.”

“What’s that, George?” Fred asks, but he fears he might already know the answer.

George looks at Fred, a sullen look on his face. “I have to break up with her.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, Georgie. Please,” Y/N asks quietly, looking up at George.

It’s Saturday afternoon, and they’re laying together on George’s bed. It’s a Hogsmeade day, so they’re completely alone, just enjoying being together. George is laying on his back with Y/N cuddled on top of him, one of his hands is under her shirt, pressed against the small of her back while the other is holding one of her hands in his. He and Fred are leaving Monday afternoon, and George is trying to enjoy his last fleeting moments with Y/N.

“It’s nothing, baby. Just thinking about stuff,” he responds, his eyes refusing to leave the ceiling and meet hers.

Y/N presses a kiss to George’s bare chest before nuzzling the soft skin. “Thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other?” Ever since the day George walked with her to Transfiguration Y/N has been able to tell that something is off with him. Usually she can read him like an open book, and the fact that she can’t tell what’s going on in his head scares her.

George digs his fingers into the skin of Y/N’s back. He can feel her heartbeat against his chest, and he’s sure she can hear how loudly his heart is pounding in his. “Baby,” George coos, finally looking down at her. “Look at me, please.” When Y/N finally looks up at him George can see tears pooling in her eyes and it breaks his heart. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything in this world. You know that, right?”

“George,” Y/N breathes, squeezing his hand tightly. Normally George confessing his love for Y/N makes her feel dizzy, and makes her heart beat out of her chest. But this feels different to her. Like it’s the last time he’s ever going to say those things to her. “Don’t do this, George. Please.”

George swallow thickly. “I can’t be with you anymore, Y/N. I’m not. I’m not good enough for you. I don’t deserve you and I never have. You deserve the universe and try as I might I’m not the person who can give that to you. I’ve been telling myself I am, but I’m just not, Y/N.”

Tears stream down both of their faces and when Y/N surges forward to kiss George she can feel his tears mixing with hers on her cheeks. She kisses him hard, desperately trying to get him to return it. “Georgie please. I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything before.”

“I know you do,” George says sadly. “But I don’t deserve your love. I’m sorry, Y/N. But it’s over between us.” George watches as Y/N scrambles out of his bed before turning on his side so he doesn’t have to see the woman he loves walk out of his life for good. The sound of the door slamming shut behind Y/N punches a crater in George’s chest, and he finally lets himself sob into his pillow.

“Turn that frown upside down,” Y/N’s mother tuts as she enters Y/N’s bedroom. “Today is supposed to be a day to celebrate. You should be happy.”

Y/N is sitting in front of the vanity in her bedroom, and she locks eyes with her mother in the mirror. Today is her graduation party, a day Y/N had been looking forward to since her parents started planning it at the beginning of the school year. But then George Weasley shattered her heart to pieces two months ago and she’s failed to find the joy in anything since. Y/N is surprised that she even managed to make it through the rest of the school year. The last thing she wants to do is pretend to be hopeful about her future in front of a room full of people when the future she’s spent the last 3 years dreaming about no longer has any possibility of becoming a reality.

“I don’t want to be happy,” Y/N responds lamely. “And I don’t want to pretend to be happy either.”

Y/N’s mother’s expression turns cold. “Your father and I have put up with your dramatics long enough, Y/N and we will not tolerate you embarrassing us today. So get yourself together, get dressed and put a damn smile on your face. This party is happening whether you want it or not.”

“Ugh!” Y/N huffs once her mother is gone, knocking her brush off of her vanity. Of course, today isn’t about her. It’s about her parents showing her off to all of their pureblood friends. Not only had George been the love of Y/N’s life, but he’d been her salvation, her savior from the horrid life her parents had been grooming her for. Y/N’s parents had raised her traditionally, and from a young age it was clear to her that she was going to marry a pureblood boy whether she loved him or not. And even though the Weasley family doesn’t prescribe to many of the pureblood traditions Y/N’s family does, their blood is as pure as can be and her parents reluctantly approved of their relationship.

Y/N and George had talked about what their future would look like, and they both easily came to the conclusion that it would include getting as far away from Y/N’s family as possible. Y/N sparred George from the more intimate details of her childhood but told him enough to make it clear she didn’t want anything to do with her parents once she was an adult. They decided on a large house on a hill in the country, near where George grew up. So their kids could run around barefoot and free, causing all the chaos they want. As graduation had neared, Y/N figured along with it would come a ring on her finger. George had promised to whisk her away from her family as soon as he could, he promised that he would be her new family and it was all they would need. But George had also promised to love Y/N forever. And now all she has left of him are his broken promises to match her broken heart.

Of course, Y/N’s parents had been thrilled when she returned home from Hogwarts with the news that she and George had broken up. All they’ve ever wanted was for Y/N to marry a pureblood boy that would take care of her and give them perfect pureblood grandchildren to spoil. Y/N is their only child, and therefore the only hope of their family legacy continuing on. They had been okay with Y/N marrying George not because they wanted her to be happy, but because they thought giving her what she wanted would give them the opportunity to instill their values in her children, so their traditions could carry on. But now that Y/N and George are no longer together, her possible mates are endless, and they’ve spent much of the past week discussing which son of their friends is best suited to marry her.

Not wanting to face her mother’s wrath, Y/N complies with her wishes. She fixes her hair just right, and puts on enough makeup to accentuate her features, before she changes out of her pajamas and into the expensive silk ballgown her mother had custom made. Y/N is sure it costs more than what most wizards make in a month, and the feeling of the smooth fabric against her skin makes Y/N want to throw up.

“There’s my princess,” Y/N’s father greets as she comes down the stairs.

Every click of her heels against the marble floor makes her stomach lurch, and Y/N can see her hand shake as she reaches out to take the arm her father has offered her. Guests have started to arrive, so she plasters her best fake smile onto her face. “Hi Daddy,” she greets, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Y/N lets her father guide her around the room, shaking the hand of every person they meet and pretending to be interested in what they have to say to her. Y/N is great at pretending, she’s spent her whole life watching her parents pretend to love each other. They had been paired together in an arranged marriage and while they love to put on a show as the perfect couple for their friends, Y/N knows that they sleep in separate bedrooms and her father has had a string of mistress’ her whole life. Everything they do is for the sake of appearances. They don’t care about genuine happiness or pure love, as long as they give off the illusion that they hold those things. George had made Y/N feel both of those things, and now she’s not sure if she’ll ever get to experience them again.

After taking Y/N around the room to greet everyone, her father gets distracted in a conversation with Lucius Malfoy and Y/N takes the opportunity to get away. Her mother has strategically placed a few of their house elves near the staircase so Y/N can’t sneak back up to her room. Instead she finds an empty table as far away from everyone as possible and sulks over to it, sinking down in one of the chairs.

“Why the long face?” a familiar voice asks as they approach Y/N.

Y/N looks up, mustering up the best fake smile she can. “Oh, Adrian! How nice to see you!”

Adrian rolls his eyes as he takes a seat next to Y/N. “You don’t have to pull that crap with me. You know that, Y/N.”

Y/N sighs in relief, and lets her sullen expression take over again. Adrian grew up in the estate next door to Y/N, so Y/N spent a lot of time with him growing up. She spent time with the children of her parent’s other friends as well, but Adrian is the only one she truly considered a friend. He found many of the things his parents taught him utterly ridiculous as well, and it allowed them to grow closer. Their friendship had ultimately faded when they arrived at Hogwarts and Adrian was sorted into Slytherin and Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor, but Y/N still considers him a friend.

“Thanks. I think if I have to pretend to smile one more time my face will actually freeze that way,” she jokes.

“Yeah, I heard about that. About George. I’m sorry.” Adrian reaches out to give Y/N a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Pretty sure the whole fucking world has heard about it at this point. You should have seen how happy my parents were when they found out. Pretty sure it was the only time either of them has felt genuine joy.”

“Yeah, I heard your dad talking about it with mine the night after we got back from school,” Adrian says. “I see he went out and bought you that diamond bracelet,” he comments, gesturing towards the piece of jewelry on her wrist.

Y/N snorts in laughter. “Graduation present my fucking ass. Only my parents would give me a present to celebrate my heart getting stomped on. Fucking pricks.”

Adrian reaches out and puts his hand on top of Y/N’s, giving it a sympathetic squeeze. “I really am sorry, you know. I could tell how much you loved him.”

“He was my everything,” Y/N admits sadly. As weird as it sounds, it feels good to be talking about this with Adrian. Her parents clearly think one week is a sufficient amount of time to get over a three-year long relationship and she’s been dying to talk about her feelings with someone. “We had plans, you know? Turns out he had plans of his own.”

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes has been the front-page story of the Daily Prophet since it’s opening last month. The store has been breaking records left and right and people can’t seem to get enough of it. The store was packed with people when Y/N went to Diagon Alley with her mother for a dress fitting earlier in the week and the sight of the store alone made her want to cry.

“You didn’t know? About the store?”

Y/N shakes her head. “I knew he and Fred wanted to start one. He had talked about it loads, it always made him so excited. I just didn’t know how close they were to making it a reality. Though I suppose that was on purpose, since he dumped me right before opening. I guess the future we talked about starting wasn’t good enough for him.”

“He’s a dick, Y/N. You’re amazing. He should have been on his knees praising you everywhere you went. Any guy would be tripping over themselves to give you anything and everything you could ever want,” Adrian comforts, squeezing her hand again.

Y/N smiles her first genuine smile in months, completely unaware that her mother is watching her intensely, a plan forming in her head.

Y/N wakes up the next morning to a soft knock at her door. She lets out a yawn and stretches before muttering a soft ‘come in.’ She figures it’s one of the house elves, so when Y/N’s mother enters her room with her father trailing behind her stomach lurches and she sits up. “What’s going on? Did Nan die?”

“Oh of course not, it’s nothing like that Y/N,” her mother assures with a laugh, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

“We just have something to talk to you about,” her father says from his spot in the doorway.

Y/N sighs a breath of relief. Ever since her grandfather passed away Y/N’s Nan has become much more vocal about her distaste for some pureblood traditions and she’s the only family member Y/N can even remotely tolerate. “Thank God. What do we need to talk about then?”

“Your father and I have been talking a lot since your graduation about the next steps in your life,” her mother starts. “Marriage, children, things like that.”

“And we know that you thought that Weasley boy was going to marry you but it’s time to be realistic about things,” her father says firmly.

Y/N rolls her eyes to keep from crying. “Do we really need to talk about this right now? I just woke up.”

“Yes, we do. Because I saw the way you were talking with Adrian Pucey yesterday, and told your father all about it so he could have a conversation with his father.”

Y/N’s stomach drops, and her chest starts to tighten. “No. No you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.” The tears she’d tried to avoid a moment ago start to form in her eyes.

“I did,” her father confirms. “He agrees that you and Adrian would be a perfect match. Adrian already has a job in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry making good money, and his father has agreed to pay for your estate if your mother and I pay for the wedding.”

“No,” Y/N cries softly, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Adrian isn’t a bad person, but Y/N always hoped she’d marry for love, not for connections.

“Oh quit the dramatics, Y/N. Adrian comes from a good family, you should be happy,” Y/N’s mother squeezes her leg a little too tightly to be comforting as she stands up. “Now get out of bed and get yourself ready. Adrian will be by with his family this afternoon to formally propose so that the announcement can be printed in tomorrow’s Daily Prophet.”

Once her parents have disappeared Y/N collapses back into bed and sobs.

“Will you at least act like you’ve touched a woman before, Adrian!” Adrian’s mother scolds from somewhere behind the camera.

Adrian sighs and gives Y/N an apologetic look before placing his hand on the small of her back. They’ve been trying to get the perfect photo to include with their engagement announcement for the past 20 minutes, and Y/N feels like a doll being played with. Her and Adrian are standing facing each other, and per her mother’s demands Y/N has her left hand on his bicep to show off the fat diamond sitting on her finger while her right hand rests on Adrian’s shoulder. One of Adrian’s hands is cupping her cheek, while the other rests on the small of her back. At least now it does, Adrian has spent the last five photos with it just hovering over her body.

“Okay, now look at each other like you’re in love,” Y/N’s mother demands. Y/N looks into Adrian’s eyes and plasters her best fake smile onto her face and she can hear her mother make a satisfied noise. “Now as the picture is taken Adrian I want you to lean in and kiss Y/N’s forehead.”

Adrian opens his mouth to protest, but Y/N gives him a look. “Just do it,” she murmurs between gritted teeth as she continues to smile. “I just wanna get this shit over with.”

When the photographer tells them to move they do, and the flash of the camera nearly blinds Y/N as Adrian kisses her on the forehead to complete the photo. Thankfully the photo seems to satisfy both their mothers, and Adrian and Y/N can finally break apart as they head into the other room with the photographer to write the announcement.

“I’m really sorry about all of this,” Adrian apologizes.

Y/N collapses onto the couch with a sigh. “It’s not your fault our parents are the way they are.”

“I know,” Adrian responds, sitting down next to her. “But you’re very obviously still in love with George. This can’t be easy.”

“It really fucking sucks,” Y/N admits with a sad laugh. “I always thought we’d skip all of this bullshit stuff and just get married in his parent’s backyard or something. I don’t care about all of this traditional crap. I mean who even reads those stupid engagement announcements? Why do people care who’s getting married?”

Adrian laughs. “I’m sure no one we know does. It’s just for them to show off to all of their friends. Your mum can show the picture off and brag about how big that stupid diamond is, and my dad can show it off and brag about how hot of a wife he found me.”

“Ew,” Y/N grimaces, a shiver running down her spine. “I really hope no one we know sees it. Not because you’re a bad person or anything, but just because of how embarrassing that photo is gonna be.” In reality, Y/N hopes that no one in George’s family ever sees that picture.

“Nice of you to finally join the living,” Fred comments as he watches George shuffle out of his bedroom. It’s Saturday, so the shop opens a bit later than usual and George has decided to take full advantage and sleep in. Fred puts the Daily Prophet down and pours his brother a cup of coffee as George sits across from him.

“Very funny,” he groans, grabbing the cup and taking a large gulp.

George should feel like he’s on top of the world. Their shop is a huge success, he and Fred are living on their own and they’re finally making some real money. But in reality he feels like shit. He hasn’t felt the same since he broke up with Y/N. His chest feels empty and hollow without her in his life, and he spends all day at the store pretending to be his usual jovial self only to lock himself in his room with a bottle of firewhiskey every night. He knows drinking is not the way to solve his problems, but the firewhiskey burns his throat as it goes down, and it’s the only time of day where he truly feels alive.

“You reek, George. How much did you drink last night?” Fred asks, his voice full of concern. Over the past two months Fred has watched George slowly become a shell of the person he once was. He fakes it quite well for everyone else, but Fred can see through all the bullshit. He feels absolutely helpless as he watches George destroy himself, and Fred’s starting to get desperate.

George shrugs, taking another sip. “I don’t know. Half a bottle, maybe more. Who cares?”

“I do,” Fred insists. “You can’t keep living like this George. I’m worried about you.” Fred pauses. “I know you still care about Y/N-“

“Don’t,“ George says harshly, cutting Fred off. “Don’t talk about her, don’t even say her name. She’s all I can fucking think about and it hurts too much to hear you say it.”

“Okay,” Fred says softly, picking the paper back up. He starts to flick through the pages mindlessly, just trying to seem occupied to give George some space. Fred wants to help him, but he also doesn’t want to push him deeper into his depression. He’s just turned the page to the engagement announcements when George clears his throat.

“You get to the engagement announcements yet?” George asks. When Fred looks up at him confused George rolls his eyes. “Lee and I have a bet going, to see how long it takes for someone from our class to show up in them. You know how those traditionalists are, they pair their kids off before the ink on their diplomas starts to dry.”

Fred laughs, and let’s his eyes scan the page for a moment. He’s about to hand the paper to George when his eye catches a rather large photo. He gasps and immediately crushes the paper up. “Nope. No one from our class yet.”

“You’re full of shit,” George chides, narrowing his eyes. “Come on, give it here. If there’s an announcement in there I win 10 galleons.”

Fred holds the paper just out of George’s reach. “I told you there’s nothing in there. No Galleons for you. Now drink your coffee and get ready so we can head down into the shop.”

George gets up as if he’s going to head towards the bathroom, but he ends up charging at Fred and grabbing the paper from him. “I don’t know what your problem is, did Lee promise you part of his winnings or something?” George opens the paper, letting his eyes scan the announcements. He’s not really paying attention to the photos, just trying to find a name that sounds familiar. “Ha! There it is! Adrian Pucey, who would have thought.” But as George continues to read the announcement bile comes up his throat and he throws the paper down so he can run to the bathroom and heave into the toilet.

Y/N strolls through Diagon Alley slowly, basking in the freedom. Ever since the engagement announcement appeared in the Daily Prophet her house has become wedding central. Gifts and cards from distant family members and acquaintances arrive in droves every day, and Y/N’s mother is driving her crazy with the plans. Every day from the moment she wakes up until the moment she goes to bed is filled with wedding decisions that she truly doesn’t give a shit about. She doesn’t care about the seating chart or the color scheme. The only thing she cares about is that she’s not marrying George Weasley, and no matter how many plans they make that fact will never change.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Y/N apologizes. She’d been so lost in thought she ran right into someone. She looks up at the man she bumped into and her heart stops beating when she looks into a pair of familiar brown eyes and spots a shock of fiery red hair. But a moment later she realizes it’s not who she thinks it is. “Oh. Fred.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Fred sneers, suddenly filling with rage. He knows what happened between Y/N and George is not her fault, but his resentment towards her has started to grow since the engagement announcement. George has stopped leaving his room at all, and the sound of his drunken sobs keep Fred up at night. It kills Fred to see his brother hurting, and he can’t help but blame Y/N for all of it.

“You saw it then?” Y/N asks, hanging her head in shame.

“Even if I didn’t that god-awful gaudy diamond on your hand is a dead giveaway.” Fred clears his throat. “George did too.”

Y/N’s head snaps up and she can feel tears forming in her eyes. “No, no, no. He wasn’t supposed to see that. Is he okay? How’s he doing?” Y/N watches as Fred’s jaw clenches. “Please, Fred. I need to know.”

“Why do you care?” he practically shouts. “So you can go and laugh about it with Adrian? I can’t believe you, Y/N. George gave you his all. You were his entire world. You were apart what? Two months? And now you’re about to get married to some other fuck head. Why? Because he has money? Because his family has a better status?”

Y/N wipes away some of the tears that have started to fall down her cheeks. “Fuck you, Fred. I don’t care about any of that, you know that. And do I need to remind you that George is the one who broke up with me? I trusted him with my heart, and he crushed it. All I ever wanted was George, all I still want is George.”

Fred takes a deep breath, needing to calm himself down. “Then why the hell are you marrying Adrian? George is beside himself. He doesn’t even come out of his room anymore.”

“You think I have a choice?” Y/N asks, her voice cracking under the weight of the emotions she’s feeling. “I’m not marrying Adrian because I love him, I’m marrying Adrian because my parents arranged it to be that way. My parents are vile, Fred. They don’t see me as their daughter, I’m a pawn for them to play with. It’s either submit or be punished and I’m not going to stand here and let you make me feel even worse than I already do.”

Fred grabs Y/N’s wrist as she turns to walk away, and he pulls her into a tight hug. “Y/N, I had no idea. George said your parents were traditionalists, but he never mentioned anything like that.”

“Because I never told him,” Y/N admits as she pulls away from Fred. She wipes away a few of the lingering tears as she looks up at him. “George is too innocent, too pure to know about the shit they put me through growing up. George is the only person who ever truly made me feel loved and without him I feel like I’m in a horrible nightmare that I can never wake up from.”

“You can’t marry Adrian, Y/N. You and George, you guys are soulmates,” Fred says quietly. “You have to be together.”

Y/N scoffs. “Tell your brother that, he’s the one who dumped me out of nowhere. Clearly he doesn’t feel the same away about me as I do him.”

“You can’t seriously believe that, Y/N. George is going crazy without you. He barely eats, he barely sleeps.” Fred swallows thickly. “He’s been drinking. A lot. Way more than anyone should. It’s scary. Every time I try and talk to him he shuts me out. He’s lost without you.”

The ache Y/N has felt in her chest since the day George ended things intensifies with Fred’s every word. It kills her to know that George is hurting just as much as she is. “I still love him, Fred. With every fiber of my being. But I don’t know if that’s enough anymore. Everything’s gotten so complicated.”

“Just promise me one thing. Promise me that you won’t walk down that aisle and marry Adrian until you talk to George.” Y/N opens her mouth to say something, but Fred puts his hand up to stop her. “I’ll take care of George. I’ll Stupefy him and drag him to you if I have to. Just promise me you won’t marry him until you see George.”

“I promise, Fred. The wedding is next week on Friday. I’ll wait for George until the moment I have to walk down the aisle. But if he doesn’t make it.” Y/N shakes her head. “It’ll be too late.”

When Fred gets back to their flat after his conversation with Y/N he’s filled with determination. George is the person he cares most about in the world and he’ll be damned if he lets him ruin is life. He goes straight to George’s bedroom door, using his wand to unlock it. He throws it open, flipping on the light switch.

“What do you want you fucking prick?” George groans, rolling over in his bed.

Fred carefully moves around the firewhiskey bottles strewn about on the floor and heads over to the window. He throws the curtains open, letting the sunlight shine on George for the first time in weeks. “Get your ass out of bed. You’re done wallowing in self-pity.”

“Fuck you,” George grumbles, opening his eyes to glare at Fred. “What’s the point in doing anything anymore? I ruined my chance with the only girl I’ve ever wanted. She’s supposed to marry me, Fred. Not that fucking moron Adrian. He doesn’t love her like I do, and he never will. But she doesn’t deserve me. Not anymore anyway.”

Fred sighs and sits down on the edge of George’s bed. “You’re right, he doesn’t love her like you do. And she doesn’t love him either.”

“Nice try, Fred. But I’m not getting out of this bed no matter how many lies you tell me,” George sighs, before turning over in bed.

“Her parents are making her marry Adrian, George,” Fred says firmly.

George turns back to face Fred and sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I’m sorry what did you say?”

“I ran into Y/N, when I was down in Diagon Alley. I really let her have it, Georgie. I told her off for getting with Adrian so soon after you ended it with her, and she just broke down crying.” Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s knee. “She’s in love with you, George. Not him. Her parents arranged their marriage, she doesn’t have a choice.”

George puts his head in his hands, letting Fred’s words sink in. Of course, it all makes sense to him now. Y/N had once briefly mentioned that her parents never loved each other, George had brushed it off at the time, but it’s all becoming clear. Arranged marriages between pureblood families is pretty commonplace, and he feels like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, Freddie,” George groans, looking up at his brother. “I never should have even dumped her in the first place. What the fuck was I thinking? I was scared of disappointing her when in reality I was being a big fat idiot.”

“Big fat idiot is right,” Fred teases, trying to get George to smile. “But the important part is that it’s not too late. I made her promise not to marry him until she talks to you again.”

“Why didn’t you start with that?” George asks, finally cracking a smile. “So what’s the plan then?”

Fred grins at George, his eyes alight with mischief. “We’ve got a wedding to crash.”

Y/N fidgets as she stands in the middle of her room, unable to keep herself from glancing at the clock. She’s standing there in her wedding dress, thirty minutes away from walking down the aisle and she’s yet to see George or hear from Fred. The possibility that George doesn’t want to see her ever again makes her want to throw up, but she has to hold out hope that he’s going to show up. She knows now more than ever that George is the person she’s supposed to end up with, and she prays that Fred made him realize that too.

“There’s my girl.”

At the sound of George’s voice Y/N turns around a smile spreading on her face. “George,” she greets. In the blink of an eye George is across the room and wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling Y/N into his chest. Y/N wraps her arms around George’s neck and presses their lips together in a desperate kiss.

“I love you,” George murmurs as they pull apart. “I have always loved you Y/N. Breaking up with you was the worst decision I made in my entire life.”

Y/N can feel the tears falling down her face, and she presses their foreheads together. “Why did you do it, George? You mean everything to me. I would walk to the ends of the earth to be with you. You have to know that.”

“I do baby, I do,” George whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I was scared of letting you down. You are a Goddess, Y/N. You deserve to have the world handed to you on a silver platter and I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to give that to you. You deserve the future we dreamed of having, and it killed me to think you’d never get that with me.”

“I don’t care about having any of that. All I care about is having you,” Y/N admits, kissing George briefly. “You made me feel safe, and happy and loved, and that’s all I need, George.”

George kisses Y/N again, needing to feel her lips on his. “I know that now. And I really hope it’s not too late to give that all to you, Y/N. You are the only person who has ever made me feel special, the only person who’s ever bothered to look at me. And if you let me I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you feel special too.”

“I love you, George. It’s always been you. It will always be you.” Y/N breathes in deeply as George kisses her again, finally feeling like she’s home.

“I love you so much and as much as I would love to stand here and kiss you forever we gotta go. Fred should be almost done setting things up by now. Get changed and grab some stuff, okay?”

Y/N nods and gets undressed, throwing on whatever clothes her hands reach first. She throws a few of her favorite things into her school trunk, which is still packed with her things from the end of the school year. “Good riddance,” Y/N mumbles as she yanks off her engagement ring and throws it onto her dresser.

“Ready to go?” George asks, grabbing Y/N’s trunk.

Just as her hand closes around her wand explosions start to go off and people downstairs start screaming. “What the hell is that?” she asks, hooking an arm around George’s.

George grins down at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “A new line of whizbangs we’re testing out. A little goodbye present for your parents and Adrian.”

“Well would you look at that,” George chuckles as he reads the paper.

Y/N presses a kiss to the side of his head as she sets his coffee down on the table, letting George pull her into his lap. “What’s that, love?”

George puts the paper down so he can rest one of his hands on Y/N’s ever-growing baby bump and the other can cup her cheek and pull their lips together. No matter how many years they’ve been together, kissing Y/N makes him just as giddy as the first time. “Adrian’s getting married.”

Y/N laughs and rests her hand on top of the one George has on her belly, intertwining their fingers. “Think we’ll get invited?”

“Considering the way we ruined his first wedding? Not a chance in hell.” George teases with a smile, pulling Y/N in for another kiss.

They might not have as much money as Adrian, or a big rolling estate to show off. But Y/N and George have each other and their growing family – and that’s enough for them.

#George weasley #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley x reader #gw #golden

292 notes · View notes